The New Reality

Look at this--I live in the boondocks and  yet my windows are barred.

Mine came about  because my next door neighbor  spotted two men in my yard at 2 AM. The men ran off before the police arrived.

At first I wasn't alarmed; I had a mental picture of anyone  navigating that maize of raised beds and garden ornaments in the dark and  marveled that they survived..

So now I have barred windows and yeah, I do feel safer. I even had a motion sensor light installed  and when it flashes on, I can't resist getting out of bed to  see who is visiting . So far: raccoons, skunks , possums and rabbits but no two-legged intruders.

It's a different world now; I guess my generation was the last to  to let the kids roam freely all day and  now people have to make play dates for their kids. Good lord, if I'd had to do that with my six kids I would have been either phoning, marking the "play chart" or driving the kids to their dates.

No wonder computer games are so popular--it's the substitute for playmates.

I wish I hadn't taken a picture of the bars--now I have to clean the window.

Cake Frosting

The snow piles up nicely on the  deck. The heaped bundle at the center is like  icing on the best chocolate cake you'll ever make.

Perhaps I am suffering from cabin fever today

The Storm That Wasn't

 Environment Canada alerted us on Thursday that we were about to be hit with the big storm that had eluded us all winter.

Always looking out for a blog opportunity, I did a "before" shot of the back garden; it  was thawing nicely and the bunny tracks were slowly melting away.

The next morning wasn't the dramatic sight any of us expected to see--a tidy little smattering of wet snow that the  kiddies with the unexpected school holiday struggled to work  into a puny snow ball.

So far this winter, I figure I am paying my snow removal company $75 each time they come to work on my tiny driveway and sidewalk. Never mind, other years they sometimes have to come twice a day just to keep up.

The poor weather office is under siege since the school boards cancelled classes and many bosses told their staff to stay home

Mostly, the weather office gets it right but this time, at the last minute the wind veered off to the east lightly touching us and Toronto while cottage country got the brunt of it.
also, it seems the mild winter prevented Lake Ontario from freezing and that affects the weather. Who knew?

Ah, but we weren't quite done.

The wind picked up during the night and fat, wet snowflakes fell and this morning  the garden is looking more like winter.

The raised bed looks beautiful and my desire to get out in the garden has suddenly waned.

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Just the same, I like to think this was winter's last gasp.

A Spring To-Do List In The Making

See that pile of snow to the right of the shed? I have plans for that. Last summer my grandson dug out part of the lawn when it was replaced by bricks.  He piled the dirt over by the shed while I thought about it. By the time winter's done,  the soil will be yummy and I'll ask him to scooch it over to cover the raised beds.

I guess you may have noticed the scraggly leaves in the foreground. I lack interest in yard clean-up in the fall but am really gung-ho in the spring, as soon as there are signs of thaw.
Before long the leaves will be tidied and I'll be happily mucking around out there in my gum boots.

This is what makes Ontario winters bearable--the blue skies and we get a lot of them.

As a child in Vancouver I remember the endless dreary rainy days, although our spring bulbs popped early and here we're still wondering where our bulbs are located.

My window refused to open so there is a reflection from the indoor shot.

Now I am  giving some thought to planting  spinach in a deck planter and keeping it from being frozen while it grows.

I think I'm having premature spring fever.

It's Summer Indoors

My orchid is blooming again; it rests for a couple of months and then springs to beautiful life once more. Just the right sight at what we hope is the tail end of winter.

I gave away my three-tiered light shelves  and this guy and his cohort sit on my desk over a nest of  pebbles and moisture in my east window study

Meanwhile, winter persists as it's inclined to do in February in south central Ontario. I was playing around with my new camera and liked the icicle at the side of the shed. Trust me when I tell you the picture looked much better before I posted it.

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My Household Gods

When I was a kid I attended was marched off to Sunday School regularly where there was a lot of talk about "God" and "Jesus". but I never got them straight; apparently the picture of the bearded man with children on his lap was Jesus but it was never clear to me about the God person. I did ask but the answers were vague  and made no sense.

When I grew up I did some investigating on my own and found other paths, each when I was ready. Along the way I  noticed that different religions had statues of their gods and in many cases they were on the gory side.

Now these are my household gods and I have no idea what they stand for but I  promise you they are not gory.

The one above is obviously Chinese and looks both wise and mischievous and I like that.

This is a Thai god and all I know about most Thai gods is that they wear pointy head gear. Thais are mostly respectful of Buddha and I do have him straight in my mind. In fact, he and Jesus are a couple of my heroes.

Pointy head--another Thai.

One of my sons thought I was an old soul and this was a gift from him, although I don't look or feel as old and jaded as he looks.

This one? Well truthfully, I bought him at Fishermens Wharf in San Francisco and he looks suitably enigmatic to make the team.

He's not supposed to be a god but I find him to be rather mysterious and lovely. I found him in Rome, where I had a lot of amazing spiritual dreams, dreams that I still remember vividly so many years later.

These are my household gods; we all co-exist peaceably, and I finally did figure out the Jesus-God puzzle. From where I stand most religions have the same goal but take wildly different ways to reach them.

May the blessings be.

My Favorite Statue

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I. bought this sculpture in a Vancouver art shop near Stanley Park, a long time ago. At first glance it's simply a crudely fashioned piece but as you focus on it, it tells its story..

It first  reminded me of the exercises we did in are school--take a handful of clay and produce a story in a brief time frame.The artist succeeded.

 

The artist scratched his name on the bottom: David Gray, 1974.
I'm left with a need to go hug a stranger..

 

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Making the Cut

There was a time a few years ago when I told my daughter I had just cleaned out the garage.
the sceptic known as my daughter asked just what I had thrown out and I replied, "A flower pot."
Listen. it was a big flower pot. Anyway, her little girl was sitting across us at a Wendy's booth at that moment and my poor little grandchild was royally sprayed with a  mouthful of coca cola.
That burst of laughter happened because I have developed a reputation as a pack rat.
Just so you know, I am getting so much better that there is an empty drawer in my dresser. So that's progress.And that brings me to today's discussion.

I'm sorting through things, room by room.

This chunk of amethyst--well, it stays. Number four son found this on a hike somewhere in the Sudbury area. It's also my birthstone so I can't part with that. 
There is that moment when the sun catches on a fragment and it's heart-stopping beautiful.

This is Guairn;  on our way too buy a stained glass panel we spotted Guairn  in an art shop window and we forgot about the stained glass. My daughter named him; we have no idea why that name.
He is noted for his ability to seemingly puff on a cigarette while smoke spews out of his nostrils, although that sort of parlor trick is frowned upon these days. He's really not displayed well on this shelf but when we place him on the floor where he really belongs, some kid comes along and steps on his toes, which causes immediate amputation. He'll stay there a while longer.

I bought these cats at an auction but a ninety-something friend tells me that in her childhood, the cat patterns were stamped on a square of cotton and tucked in Quaker Oats boxes for the housewife to stitch up. How sweet is that? They take up premium space but now that my real live cats are gone, these little guys do their best to be of pet service.

So they stay.

Okay they made the cut but I did throw out a jar of three-year old candy and sent an armload of books to the thrift store.

So that's progress--right?

Family

This christening cap was worn by my grandmother,  Mary Letitia Alice Cooper Hawkes, who was born somewhere around
1865.

This is her christening gown, worn by one of  her great-grandsons.
The gown is now retired and displayed in a sealed cabinet with a glass front.

My grandfather was Ben Hawkes; both were born in England and  lived their lives in simple circumstances, and.

 the clothing they wore as babies seemed surprisingly decorous.

Ben wore this petticoat under a long hand-embroidered baby gown, always white on white

This is the only gown left from his baby things and it's slowly disintegrating. As far as I can tell, both the petticoat and gown were hand made with tiny perfect stitches; a minuscule flaw here and there to convince me they are hand made.

Here is a sample of the tucks;  there are feather stitches embroidery on the band.

Here they are all grown up.

I wonder if she was called Letty? No one ever said.

Ben was a Tailor's cutter and Letitia was a seamstress. I have Ben's tailor's shears and I treasure them and use them always in my sewing.

 I can't think of anything else of theirs that lasted through the years.

I wonder if anything of ours will exist in family hands after a hundred-plus years?

Here's to you Ben and Letitia--sorry we never got to know one another.

Last February

A year ago the deck looked like this; the barbecue was almost covered and the antiques sign was hiding some letters.

Here is the deck today.



A year ago the back yard looked like this, as seen from the deck.

Today you can see the brick floor and the raised beds look temptingly ready.

Winter has been tame so far this year but there is still time for a flexing of icy muscles.

In the meantime, I really like this weather.

Ladies' Day





I bought this soft sculpture titled "Flower Girl" in Toronto years ago. She depicted the young maidens of that time, the sixties and early seventies, with the long straight locks and  dressed in sinple long gowns. She is dressier than most but then she is older, though not necessarily wiser.

She hangs out with the three Graces and I bet they have some amazing stories to tell.



These girls were my version of the "hippy" style  and I made them during my short-lived dollhouse  manufacturing era..

Those days were an incredible time.

Tiger on a bad tooth day

My carved tiger has been with me a lot of years. I bought him in Vancouver's Chinatown  when I was back home for a visit and in those early days he had a full set of ivory teeth. but some went permanently missing when the kids played dentist.

Funny thing--generally he generally manages to look  both noble and  ferocious but today he looks plain goofy. He probably should be moved so he something new to look at.

He wasn't always in the filigree frame--I found that at an auction and it sat around waiting for inspiration.

One day I lined the center part with brown velvet from a discarded evening skirt (dear lord when did I have time to wear it with those six kids?)

When the frame was ready for some kind of centerpiece, tiger seemed a good choice and he has been bursting out of his cage ever since.

Here, he looks as though someone stepped on his paw and come to think of it, it would have had to be something the size of  a rhino to keep him relatively docile.