Point Taken

My Household Gods

2012-02-13T14:04:00.001-05:00

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

2012-02-11T13:52:00.003-05:00

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..

Making the Cut

2012-02-09T07:42:00.000-05:00

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

2012-02-07T08:59:00.000-05:00

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

2012-02-04T13:16:00.003-05:00

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

2012-02-03T10:05:00.001-05:00

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

2012-02-01T07:40:00.000-05:00

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.

Snow

2012-01-29T07:00:00.000-05:00

It snowed on Saturday, bringing happy cheers to skiers and snowboarders.
Cars driving past the house were sliding from side to side so I remained indoors.

It was a good time to play with the new camera.

The new windows upstairs are frozen shut--perhaps not such a bargain after all--and I miss leaning way out to get a better shot.

January Garden

2012-01-26T10:18:00.000-05:00

This is the trellis garden last summer, full of transient horseradish and any other greenery brave enough to fight their way in..

Here it is today, having a winter rest.

So what is this? Well, on top of the shed is the retired bird house with its roof hanging ajar.

The raised beds are waiting out the season and those bags, ah those bags. they are stuffed full of mulch and waiting for the moment when they come into play.

In a perfect world I would have stored them in the shed but (a) they're too heavy to move around and (b) I lost interest in moving them.

I like seeing them each day when I look out the window; they're ready for that moment when the bed is popping up shoots and need a little protection from the sun.

And we all know that if company is coming and you want to put on a good garden face, a spreading of mulch will hide a multitude of garden sins.

In my younger days I would have hauled mulch back from the woods but now I buy it in bags.

Just as long as it gets the job done....

Kwan Yin

2012-01-21T11:15:00.000-05:00

This is Kwan Yin, considered to be the goddess of women everywhere. This is the Thai version, a gift from my sweet daughter-in law Aw and in her country the goddess is called Kuon Eim.

The story varies with each culture but in all she has the deepest love and compassion and would sacrifice herself for others.

When Aw's English gets a tad more advanced, I will learn her version of this goddess's powers. There is a place for incense sticks (you must only burn three, says Aw).

The jar in her hand is for pure water and the green stalk is a willow branch.

Aw and I learn from one another; I tell her about the gods worshipped here and she tells me more of her Buddhist gods.

In the meantime each morning I greet this special porcelain lady when I come downstairs and I feel stronger in her care.

Snow

2012-01-20T09:18:00.000-05:00

We had a fitful snowfall yesterday and the way the winter has been going, any snow is unusual.

The wind made the best of this one and it was a good day to observe it all from indoors.

After nightfall, .I ventured outside in my jammies to see how the new camera would behave without a flash and I liked the results.

The street look rather lovely, which is a first. That's a porch mirror on the right.

The porch light was on for this shot.

Camera and I are getting to be good friends

Winter, not so much

Something New

2012-01-13T13:26:00.000-05:00

Ever since my small glass-topped kitchen table exploded last summer, I've been searching for a the perfect replacement.

I concentrated on finding a glass top that wouldn't blast apart because of frequent heat and cold and apparently laminated glass is the answer.

There seems to be a general consensus among furniture dealers that people do not live alone, therefore rendering small tables unecessary, besides taking up valuable floor space.

That kind of thinking made my quest really annoying, especially since I do not like to shop. I know what I want, so show me and I can get out of there.

Then I happened in one of those everything- you- don't really- need shops and there it was--a bistro table and stool; I hadn't thought of that but the table was just the right size to hold a plate and a book.

Okay, I didn't ask about the quality of the glass but it's plate glass and I'll hope it remains steadfast.

I can sit at a normal level or hike the chair and table up to cocktail serving size. I stopped drinkling cocktails and other hard stuff a few years ago but my diet coke looks just fine perched up there..

The best part of this is that I don't have to go into any more stores until the next calamity and the new furniture gives a nice hard edge to my black and chrome kitchen.

Winter Mist

2012-01-11T22:41:00.001-05:00

Still Life

2012-01-11T08:22:00.002-05:00

If snow piles up on the deck I can't get out to the back so I took advantage of the winter lull to check out the pond. Everything is lovely and still .

The fish are hunkered down at the bottom waiting out the season and the pond pump is purring away to keep them happy and breathing, fish-style.

A Confused Peach Tree

2012-01-09T09:50:00.000-05:00

I took the new camera out to the back forty this morning (forget acres--it would be stretching it to think forty feet).

I wanted to check out the budding trees.

The peach tree is looking more like a pussy willow right now.

Enjoy the respite while you can, guys--winter will catch up with us.

Our Winter--So Far...

2012-01-07T12:18:00.002-05:00

This is the way things looked on the deck this morning; everything swaddled tight and ready for snow, ice and anything else that's cold.

This is the way it looked on the deck a year ago.

Here's the view from the front window this morning--a smattering of snow left.

And a year ago.

I suspect that deep down we all know this is not a good thing happening to our planet--wild weather changes and winter sometimes turning into spring.

In the meantime, I will take guilty pleasure in the dry roads and non-treacherous path to the mail box.

THAI NEW YEAR IN CANADA

2012-01-05T10:06:00.000-05:00

Aw performed her wondrous cooking for Thai New Year, celebrated in Kitchener, Ontario.

Our time is twelve hours behind Thailand time, so we gathered at Aw's house at 11:30 in the morning and at noon the festivities began.

She Skypes the relatives while we're making the food evaporate and she tries to get used to the way North American eat; apparently we eat a lot. It's her fault--she's a fabulous cook.

Shortly after she arrived here I took her to a mall food court to check out Thai meals Canadian style . I sat her at a table and brought back the food and the look on her face was a study.

She marched to the food counter and said indignantly to the server, "That's not Thai food."

Now that was a lost cause because the server had never eaten Thai food although her roots were from that area.

That's okay Awesome--you're maintaining the tradition in Canada and we are only too happy to act as your faithful slavering critics.

Another bonus for this early celebration is that if you are really young and like noise, shouting, loud music and excessive alcohol, you can still make the party that evening.

The rest of us kick back in front of the telly in our jammies, eating the last of the chocolate rosebuds before it's time to knock off the extra Christmas weight.

Happy New Year to you.

First Snowfall

2011-12-28T14:33:00.002-05:00

We had out first no-kidding snowfall last night and this is how the back yard looked at eight this morning.

The first fresh snow is a pretty sight.

To be continued.

Decorating Magazines Are Not Knocking At My Door

2011-12-21T09:07:00.001-05:00

Some of my favorite blogs are written by women who live in old farm houses painted pristine shades of white inside and out, and the furnishings are sparse.

They go quietly wild over Christmas by tramping outside to find enough cedar boughs to form a nice display for the front door, the tree is cut on their property and the few trimmings are hand-made.

So why am I the total opposite of these dedicated women? Beats me.

My tree is totally artificial, as are the decorations and if one strand of tinsel would make a statement I toss on an a truck-load.

Whatever drives me to do what I do, it's my comfort level at stake so I continue to do it while admiring the restraint of those minimalist ladies.

The dining room table is already set for Christmas day. There's a good reason for this--I do as much ahead as I can to have energy left for the last-minute work.

I guess it's too late to ask Santa for a better camera.

The family of lambs are settled under the tree.

And here's Mr. Cheerful who is probably not fond of any of us over-the-top or carefully austere.

Merry Christmas to you anyway, you old coot.

An Exercise in Messiness

2011-12-16T09:37:00.001-05:00

It's a good bet that I feel secure in my own skin otherwise I wouldn't show you the aftermath of a lovely afternoon of Christmas baking.

I begin neatly, and then things just happen. I stop to water the plants, find three bottles of pure vanilla and pause to reflect on that, then wonder when I last used that big bag of whole wheat flour.

The phone rings and I deal with those pesky snake oil sales people, run upstairs to Google how many children Mia Farrow has, all the while keeping a careful eye on the cookies.

Eventually the baking is done and when the last cookie is out of the oven, clean-up begins and the place again is pin-neat.

I'm not showing you pin-neat--but honestly, Dr. Jekyll never had a lab so pristine.

And all is well with my world.

Slap Happy Butterscotch Men

2011-12-13T17:20:00.001-05:00

I made these people for the kids attending my son's staff Christmas party

They were going to be the usual gingerbread people until I ran across a recipe using dry butterscotch pudding mix. Add to a basic sugar cookie dough and there you are.

It tasted just fine.

I'm an all-thumbs kind of person when it comes to using a pastry bag; either a little squiggle comes out when I want a big squiggle or it becomes a shapeless not-to-salvaged- blob.

So I ad lib.

A pair of tweezers and the back of the paring knife did the trick.They look pie-eyed but who will notice?

I mean, the kids just want to lick the icing anyway.

Welcome to John

2011-12-10T15:19:00.001-05:00

This is my new great grandson. John Jason, age two days.
His brother Daniel is stroking his head and he'd thunk his rival if the photographer parent wasn't watching.
Understandable when you realize that until yesterday Daniel was king of that particular castle.

It scares me to think that I had my first four in slightly less than five years.
No wonder I have trouble recalling which was which.
And those were the days of cloth diapers. Yikes. I washed diapers every day for twelve years.
Forget the poor trees--those packaged non-fabric diapers are a godsend.

Welcome, little boy. I hope to hug you and your big brother soon.

Sweetie and Me

2011-12-08T12:32:00.000-05:00

Right off the top let me say I have been sewing since I was fifteen years old, a long, long time but recently I learned the hard way I haven't been keeping up with sewing machine technology.

A couple of years back I upgraded to a super-duper type of machine and I thought we were compatible until last summer when I packed her in her special container on wheels and trundled her in for a checkup because she sounded like a thrashing machine.

$300- plus dollars later she was back to her quiet and refined self and sewed brilliantly but not before I was confronted at the shop by a bunch of solemn head-shakers about the broken gear and the absolutely impacted mess of thread in her gizzards.
Can't be thread I said since I don't sew that much. Oh yes, said the store people-- you sew a lot. The way they talked, I must be sewing 23- hours a day.

On the drive home, feeling put-upon, a scenario flashed into my mind and I knew what really happened. I recall the day when another repair man pulled a ton of cat hair out of the refrigerator gizzards just before the condenser was about to wave the white flag.

It was long, thick Himalayan cat hair--from the same cats that slept on the sewing table curled around the back of the sewing machine.
My reasoning was that there wasn't any place that their hair could travel into the machine, right? Oh so very wrong.

A few months earlier when I sadly realized that I couldn't keep up with their care and grooming, I took them to the vet for a check-up, got their shots up to date, then to the groomers for adorable haircuts and finally gave them to a younger, enthusiastic couple who adore Himalayan cats.

Back to the sewing machine.

I was still smarting from the expensive bill and finger-pointing when I recently ran into another problem while I was trying to finish a couple of shirts I was making for son #4 for Christmas.

I reluctantly headed back to the shop.

Well, said the nice lady, for starters there's a burr in the needle. A brand new one, Id like to add. She put in one of her own so it had to be burr-less. Try as I might I couldn't see a burr.

It seems the bobbin was in backwards also. This day was not going well.
She spoke very slowly to make sure I didn't miss a word and changed the bobbin around. Then I heard myself mumble that since the machine returned from the factory it ran too quickly.

"You don't know how to adjust the speed ? she asked incredulously.
Um, no.
She showed me.

There's more.

Apparently the tension was set so that it couldn't possibly run properly. I never, ever change the tension so I don't know how that happened.
By this time she was sighing

As if I hadn't suffered quite enough humiliation I mentioned it took forever to thread the needle since I couldn't see that tiny needle hole very well.

"You don't know how to use the automatic needle threader?"

Just throw me in the dungeon and toss away the key.

The thing is, if you just make up your mind it will be a humiliating twenty minutes out of your life you come away from the store with a machine that sews more slowly, you know why she said the the bobbin wasn't wound correctly and the needle can now be threaded automatically. A really nifty trick,that one.

At last I was released, skulking out wheeling my sweetie behind me, with a mental picture of the nice lady in the shop regaling her fellow workers about the ditz she just dealt with.

Back in the peace and quiet of home I photographed the proper settings, practised threading the thing automatically and vowed to read the manual one page daily until I have the thing memorized.

And to be on the safe side I photographed the correct settings.

So, yeah, it was worth the aggravation.

And sweetie's gizzards are immaculate.

Let the Season Begin

2011-12-02T19:49:00.000-05:00

As always the dining room corner will be village headquarters for the next month. I get into decorating mode in early November and when I can't hold out any longer I begin hauling upstairs the basement-stored bins of decorations, beginning with the village.

There's an over-abundance of churches, recalling my childhood when we travelled through small towns with a church on every block. There never seemed enough people in town to keep the churches filled, but they looked pretty.

The sweet shop at the top right looks down on the ice pond where in my world walruses, skaters and skiers happily share the ice .

There are lots of my sight-seers. Like me, they get their jollies watching others exercise.

This skier has an evil look; I wonder about him.

The lights work and there are no cats this year to nibble at the artificial snow that slowly melts as they chew.

Let the season begin.

The First Snow

2011-12-01T08:20:00.000-05:00

We had our first smattering of snow and icy particles were still falling as I took this picture.

Now the ornamental grasses come into their own own and will display beautifully for the winter months.

The Zebra Grass looked like this a month or so ago

And this morning.

Winter has crept in slowly around these parts .

Now that I am driving a small car I am not looking forward to testing it out on snowy--freezing rain days. My last car resembled a mini tank and I always felt safe; sadly it got older than me and had to be pastured.

In the meantime I'm all for the pre-winter weather and the beautiful look of the grass.

The Annual Christmas Shirts

2011-11-28T19:45:00.001-05:00

Here is this year's almost-finished pair of shirts I've been making for son #4.
He's the musician-mountain climber with a passion for cleaning up the planet and he lives his life that way, frugally and tidily.

If the distance isn't too far, he takes a bus to his gigs and fortunately he plays small instruments that can be toted.

The bird or animal patterns began years ago when as a joke I made him a shirt with sea turtle pattern; he loved it and asked for more. The shirt above on the right is an owl pattern.

I've been working my way more or less through the endangered species and I've covered a lot of them.

Last year the gorilla shirt was a big hit.

This year, on compassionate grounds, I made one "normal" shirt to accompany the owls.

You're a good sport, #4.

The Case of the Missing Shoe Polish

2011-11-25T09:19:00.000-05:00

These basement shelves are action central in my house-- I label anything that can't argue and keep like with like so my system makes it easy to locate items.
Unless I change my system--then there's trouble..

I was putting away the summer stuff and thought I'd better give the winter shoes a polish but the polish was missing.

In the past it had been stored in an open pink plastic basket on those shelves--really easy to spot.

I vaguely recalled that I had switched the container for a smaller plastic bin with a lid. So how hard can that be to find?

It took days to zero in on it. I scoured the basement and then moved my search upstairs.

The logical place to keep it was in the sewing room; that made sense because the shoes were kept right across the hall.

The elusive box is in this picture but it took me three days to actually locate it.

See that shelf to the left of the clock? That's where it is.

I was ironing and idly glancing about with the dratted polish in mind and the box almost jumped out at me.

I blame it on my gem of a label maker. It's digital and lots of fun but the label is tiny.

See what I mean?
Now that interfacing label is calling out to me to give it a tidy do-over.
The good news is that my penny loafers are gleaming.

Saturday Night Family Dinner

2011-11-21T07:17:00.001-05:00

Saturday night is family night at my house. Come if you wish, take a night off, it's okay.The only rule is that I want to know how many I am cooking for.

Tonight is individual Beef Wellingtons along with baby carrots and Brussels sprouts in a brown sugar glaze, oven fried sweet potatoes and dessert is coming with one of the girls.

The veggies can be partially cooked earlier in the day, then blanched in ice water to stop the cooking, drained and stored in the garage. The garage is a great walk-in cooler in the winter, especially when there's a lot of action in the kitchen. The fridge won't be loaded with stuff teetering on the shelves.

This is how it looked at serving time after a short time re-heating in the prepared glaze.. The idea is that the colors will be pristine but I messed that up by adding the leftover mushrooms and onion from the wrapped tenderloins. It tasted lovely.

The beef tenderloins were browned in butter and seasonings earlier and also stashed for later and the above mentioned mushrooms and onion were prepared separately.

This left time to get some decorating started.

Under the red stained glass is a lighted wreath. Trust me on this.

It's getting close to show time so the beef is now wrapped in puff pastry. The directions said let the frozen pastry thaw in the fridge. Done. Then the directions say to roll each pastry sheet into a square. What it doesn't say is how to separate the sheets. If anyone knows, please tell me.

I finally had to slice the sheets apart and as you can see the front ones are on the bulky side. Included in the parcel is a handful of the sliced mushroom and chopped onion, sauteed until soft and a dash of sherry added. A beaten egg yolk is brushed on the pastry and it's ready for a few minutes in the oven to brown the pastry and re-heat the meat.

The directions called for 25-30 minutes but in the future I'd do some serious checking at the 20- minute mark.

And here we are, ready to roll. My people have arrived so there will not be a display of the finished product neatly arranged on platters. Everything tasted just fine.

We have some catching up to do.

Is There A Plastic Lid Thief in The House?

2011-11-15T10:49:00.000-05:00

They have to go somewhere, right? We store them away and then a genie takes over. You go for the appropriate lid when your container is filled and the lid is missing. Gonzo.

I live alone so I can't blame someone else for spiriting it away, although I do anyway.
I just know it's gone and It wasn't my doing.

So here's my new system--it takes up a lot of space but it is pretty well fool-proof. Snap on the lids immediately after cleaning and store container on the shelf.

Now let's see if the lids can make a break for it.

And down here in the oven drawer are the orphan lids and non-matching orphan containers. The matching parts will show up eventually, right?

So far so good.

Time For Settling In

2011-11-12T07:20:00.000-05:00

Two things you can count on--pansies will be the last to pack it in for the winter and grass will endure forever.

I lost interest in weeding around late summer, so the grass weaseled its way in where it could..

Next season I think I'll give the pansies their own showcase; they ask for so little and give their all.

As for the grass, well, I'll just keep adding more brick "lawns."

Dove has been sitting outside for years, providing silent companionship for the neighboring cat that likes to nap on the ledge.

This is my variegated dogwood; in the summer it has nice leaves and scraggly flowers but in the winter the branches turn vivid red and look fantastic against the white snow.

The red leaves here actually belong to the bush behind it, in the neighbor's yard. Still, it's a nice effect when everything is settling in for the winter.

The Stragglers

2011-11-09T07:15:00.002-05:00

This shaggy little group of plants was ushered in from the garden before the frost got them.

African violet at the left is used to a comfortable summer tucked away in the shade before coming indoors to settle in under the grow lights, but no more. I am giving away the three-tier unit and going for simple and simpler.

Next in line is the amaryllis that I have been nurturing since last Christmas. They are finicky things but I'm hoping this guy will tire of the naked- bulb look and burst forth with new leaves.

I bought the fuchsia on sale just before the supermarket nursery closed for the season. I found an old macrame hanger for it and hung it on the front porch, then left it to get rained on. Except this was the season of no-rain. There are a couple of buds in sight so we'll just see what time in the kitchen can do.

Last is the clump of garlic chives I dug up and stuffed into the pot. So far so good. I mean, if you're going to make an omelet in the middle of winter, you want nice fresh chives to add to it , right?

Keep this in mind fellas--simple and simpler and try not to feel the pressure.

Ready, set---start.

Lunch Bunch

2011-11-04T12:14:00.000-04:00

This should be a shameful secret but just between us--I'm a junk-food junkie. Love the stuff.

At lunch time, I drive to my favorite spots--first to Burger King for the burger and then on to Wendy's where they have the best value for the diet coke.

I park at Wendy's, pull out and spread over my lap and the gearshift a garbage bag to catch the sesame seeds and goopy dressing in the burger.

Then out comes the veggie burger and my book, propped in front of the steering wheel

I was trying to be discreet when I took this shot but around me are several lone munchers, some reading while they eat, some who listen to the radio, read and chew. I'm in the latter category.

I'm breaking myself of the meat- burger- everyday habit, hence the veggie burger.

Often I bring a sandwich from home and just buy the diet coke. Not just any diet coke . It has to be in a waxed cup, lots of crushed ice in the bottom and a nice straw.

Heaven.

be Careful What You Wish For

2011-11-02T08:19:00.000-04:00

I found these geraniums on my front porch the other day and I'm happy to have them.

Lately I've mentioned to a lot of people that it's such a waste to toss geraniums at the end of the season when they can be stored and re-planted in the spring.

I'd rather not mention those senior moments (come to think of it I've had them most of my life) but I have no idea where these came from.

I'm glad someone was listening but who do I thank?

Over the years I've kept to the same quick-and-dirty storage method and it works quite well; brush away as much dirt as I can, then stuff the plants into a plastic bag and store them in an a cool, dark place.

Cool is hard to provide. My garage isn't insulated and things freeze into Popsicles out there so that leaves the basement.

I have an empty plastic bin ( a miracle in itself but I'm really trying to thin out) and they are now stashed in the bin at floor level behind the box of birthday decorations..

In the spring when I'm just itching for the snow to melt, I'll retrieve them.
I pull off the dried leaves, make sure the stalks has some green in them and pot in lightweight soil.

Finding a sunny window ledge is always a difficult process and the best window is beside my desk.
By the time all the pots are strategically placed, I have a six inch square all to myself to pay bills and do things like, you know--carry on with life.

But first, there is a pesky winter to get through. and someone to thank, but who?

Stained Glass Reincarnation

2011-10-31T08:15:00.000-04:00

This is one of the stained glass windows I bought at an auction around thirty years ago and I think I paid $11 for each half. At the time I didn't realize they were originally one double-hung window, probably from a farm house. The center panel was plain glass with blue and red inserts on the sides.

The picture above shows the bottom section missing a center and side panel and I decided that was a good time to refresh the paint.

Here's the top, relatively unscathed. Over the years I've replaced some of the stained panels as well as the center panel that started out as clear glass.

I shudder to think what I've spent on these simple windows over the years.

During an earlier incarnation I had a frame made to hang them on the deck, with hooks holding the top and bottom. and the top window shows here. Any strong wind had them waving back and forth violently so I removed the bottom part while I reconsidered.

I retired the top part (probably another broken pane) and the bottom panel tried life outdoors. The wind was still a problem so this one went into the basement. I didn't have any space to hang them indoors, separately or together.

Then came the eureka moment when I turned part of the family room into a home theater; a rather grand name for a nice little nook to separate the viewing area from the rest of the room.

(I had a better picture but I haven't figured out the new blogger codes for switching pictures around.)

The windows hide the telly and they look perfect. The top center panel is still frosted glass and the lower window now sports a mirrored center panel.

Barring a nasty tornado or another move, chances are this vignette will remain unscathed for a long time.

The Deck Goes Undercover

2011-10-25T07:13:00.002-04:00

Here we go again; it's time to bundle up for winter.

Soon only the tops of the furniture will poke out from the white stuff.

The china berry vine has taken a firm grip on the awning and they can hang out together for now.

I had the good sense to love every minute of summer. It's such a luxury to step outside without pausing to lace up the boots, layer the sweaters under padded jackets, find the mitts and hope the snow tires are in good form.

So good bye for now, deck. Looking forward to seeing you in the spring.

Hark--Who Lives There?

2011-10-23T11:58:00.000-04:00

See that big nest in the centre of the tree?

I thought it was inhabited by either grackles or squirrels and sometimes I suspected it might be a house full of noisy vultures.

In the summer when the tree is enveloped in thick leaves I can't see who goes in or comes out but at what must be feeding time, it's loud, a bunch of hungry- little- mouths loud.

I did some Googling and chances are it's a squirrels nest.

Squirrels are not garden-friendly little rodents-- they snap the heads off tulips just because they can and they shove the birds out of the way while the hang from any available post near the feeders, like flexible licorice sticks and eat to their heart's content.

I don't know what they do in the winter; there are always a few around but most of the population disappear for a while but they'll be back. They always come back.

I was kind of hoping for a thousand hummingbirds or something spectacular but you can't choose your neighbors.

Anyway, the puzzle of who lives in the nest is solved.

The Shed Gets An Overcoat

2011-10-19T12:27:00.000-04:00

A metal shed is an asset for storage but it ranks zero on the attractiveness scale.
Mine stood out like the proverbial sore thumb and to soften the effect I planted a vine against the wall.
What I had in mind was a miniature version of a stately though miniature English manor, thick with ivied walls.
Beginning with soft green netting fastened securely, I guided the vine toward its helper, but apparently mine was a shy vine and it hid itself behind the netting, squishing it's way upward.
It got stuck at the roof join but eventually found a way to wiggle its way up and over.

The bird feeder was in its path and vine was up to the challenge; it slowly crept inside and up the walls, found a small opening on the roof and popped up and out.

That wasn't what I had in mind and the stately English manor look was gonzo.The picture pretty well tells the story--my plan failed.

Inside the shed, the interloper was having fun apparently trying to make space for a sun roof.
My clippers made short work of that little caper.

As it re-sprouts next spring, I'll give it a continuous brush cut to keep it in order and the netting will be loosened a lot.

Either that or I'll have a roofless shed.

One Windstorm Later

2011-10-16T17:15:00.003-04:00

Three days ago my vine "fence" was gorgeous

One windstorm later and it's beauty is diminished. Winter's approaching footsteps are getting louder.

The Garden's Fall Colors

2011-10-13T06:52:00.001-04:00

Ontario can be a tad hot and humid in the summer and if you're not into strapping on skis and tearing break-neck down an icy slope you may not care for the winter but we all agree our province excels in the fall.

The partition hiding the clothesline takes on a lush multi-tone effect

These plants come into their own now and best of all they thrive in marshy conditions so they have a special place in the boggy part of the garden.

Hen and chicks flourish in the terra cotta pot; soon I'll turn the pot on its side and leave the plants to settle in for their winter nap; in the spring they'll strut their stuff once more.

I took this shot from my son's deck, overlooking the soccer pitch in the park.

Soon the leaves will disappear and we''ll settle in for the winter but I'll keep this sight in my memory bank.

Horseradish Season

2011-10-10T07:13:00.000-04:00

Horseradish can be harvested anytime in the fall before freeze-up but now is the time at my place.
The prolific roots have invaded throughout the garden and there's a certain satisfaction in beating them back if only for a while.

My method is to position the shovel just so, then jump up and down on it, getting it as deep as I can. The tip of the shovel will cut into the root system and sever a big piece for me to dig out.

There are more leaves than roots but I prevail with the mental picture of my loved ones eagerly awaiting the moment they willingly char their sinus cavities with this stuff .

Here are the roots when freshly captured. With better muscle strength I could have dug deeper to get at the fatter roots, but these will do.

Now they're ready to come inside for a scrubbing in the sink.

After that I use my sharpest knife to chop them up into small cubes, toss a handful into the Cuisinart, add white vinegar, mayo and a touch of cream and turn it on.
By this time the fumes are enough to seriously consider either abandoning the project or investing in a gas mask.

After a thorough whizzing and one or two dashes outside to take in fresh untainted air, it's still not the consistency I want so I move the mixture into the blender, adjust the liquids and whizz again.

Eventually it will be smooth and creamy and ready for pouring into sterilized jars.

Ta da.

A friend told me that as a child she watched her parents prepare the sauce each year and they used a food grinder. I'm tempted to give that a try next time and then finish off in the blender.

Next time I'm going to solicit the help of the most proudly muscled family member to dig deeper so I can increase the output.

And I will look into buying a gas mask.

Defrost Time

2011-10-06T06:49:00.000-04:00

Okay, I confess the freezer hadn't been cleaned out for four years.

It took that long to want to clean it out.

Large chunks of ice rimmed the interior and that didn't seem to fit into any energy-saving category, so they had to go.

I dredged up from my memory bank just how I went about cleaning up last time and I remembered using the hair dryer to defrost; turned on and left dangling closed inside, once all the food items were pried out.

The hair dryer only took a few minutes and then I got busy with a paint scraper and carefully chipped at the slabs of ice that fell quickly to the bottom.

Here's the debris at this point. A few food stains and a lot of scattered blueberries but it didn't take long to clean it up. It would have taken longer if I had been a bit taller but my reach wasn't that good.

In fact, you know those ducks you see in the pond? The ones that spot a goody at the bottom and they bob down with their rumps and birdie legs sticking up in the air?

Well, I did bear a fair resemblance..

Here we are with a carefully edited bunch of stuff returned to the freezer, like with like, orderly and organized.

And a lot fewer blueberries.

The stuff in the basket is mostly hot dog and hamburger buns; I'm hoping to foist them on my daughter-in-law with the three teen-agers next time she drops by.

In case you wonder, the freezer is draped with a skirt because I keep it in the family room, to save heading down the basement everytime I need a package of peas.

Now that I know how relatively painless it was, I may not wait so long for the next time.

Unless I shrink some more.

The mirrors

2011-10-04T12:52:00.000-04:00

There are mirrors hanging on every fence in my garden. I pick them up at

Habitat where they were once part of shower enclosures.They disappear from sight during the lushness of summer and reappear as growth dies down

Morning glories didn't get into gear this summer. Not enough rain.There are one or two blooms at a time but they are shy. The mirrors help the illusion that there are more of them, although at this moment they are sleeping in.

Cow stands guard over the too-lazy-to-chop-up compost pile stashed behind her. By spring this pile will be flat as the proverbial pancake, and I may hide that with another mirror.

Potato Harvest

2011-10-03T10:06:00.000-04:00

This is my second barrel; I harvested the first one a few weeks ago and delayed with this one in hopes the potatoes would grow larger. That hope didn't pan out but they are lovely little things.

They will be divine steamed a little and finished off in the skillet with butter and seasonings.

I'm just finding my way planting seed potatoes in barrels; next year I'll experiment and add two or three layers.You plant the first sprouts near the bottom and cover them with earth and as they grow, you continue to add more earth. That's when I'll add more sprouts, during the topping-up process.

The garden space is too small to accommodate planting them in the beds.

The great thing about gardening is you are learning forever; it's very much like experimenting in the kitchen with an often-cooked dish, finding ways to to add variety.

Next year.....

End of Summer

2011-09-28T06:25:00.000-04:00

Collect your booty and scram, fella. And stop digging your winter fodder into my flower beds. Think about it--the ground will freeze and you'll never get it out.

You were a fine specimen and the birds loved you.

How about flyng south this year? Those practise runs don't fool us--we know you're going to stick around.

Last Showing

2011-09-25T13:04:00.002-04:00

A gorgeous September morning.The sun soon made an appearance.

The roses just keep on blooming

Sweet William isn't ready to close shop for the winter. I hope we have a long, long fall.

The Ant and the Sunflower

2011-09-23T19:30:00.000-04:00

Amazing thing, nature. We're so fortunate to be part of it.

September Song

2011-09-21T22:32:00.000-04:00

Colchicum

2011-09-21T06:46:00.000-04:00

These gorgeous little guys bloom at the end of summer.

I always forget to shoot pictures of the leaves that appear in clusters in the spring. They remain green and vigorous until the end of June and then--poof--they disappear, just like that.

Sometime in the fall that blank garden spot sprouts a magical grove of what look like giant crocus and the cycle is in motion again.

Chinaberry

2011-09-17T11:11:00.000-04:00

My China Berry infatuation has about peaked; each day the colors become more intense and enhance that porcelain look.

I promise this is the last view of it for at least a year. It is gorgeous though.

It has completely overtaken the honeysuckle in its path and even the bird nest is looking squished.

I hope the next door neighbors like vines creeping over the fence; wait until they find it peeking in their bedroom window.

Ode to the Drosophila

2011-09-15T08:42:00.000-04:00

Okay I'm showing off-- it's a fruit fly.

It's the season; they swarm in silently and they'll swarm out when it darned well pleases them.

I read somewhere that when civilization crumbles, the fruit fly will be the last living organism to pack it in and I believe that.

Open the fridge and a couple fly out; lift the lid off the tea pot--same thing.

To keep them at bay, my kitchen waste container remains outside on the deck by the kitchen door, lid firmly shut. No matter--I open it to add more stuff and a cloud of them fly out, apparently having just met, courted, married, produced children and grandchildren in a five minute period.

No one will accuse me of wanted to be known for my spotless housekeeping but even I have qualms when those minuscule wretches are flitting about. There are only a few at any time, but they're there.

In the morning while I wait for the kettle to boil, I dampen a dishcloth and have at them, perched on the cupboard doors, probably wiggling their ears and chanting, "nah nah de nah nah."

Seems they are handy for lab experiments but frankly I wish they'd stick around the lab and leave us humble folk alone.

End of complaint.

The Old and The Old

2011-09-13T09:25:00.000-04:00

When I was a kid I lived in the same house in the same neighborhood until I married; my dad worked for the same company until he retired and my mom was the homemaker, proud that her husband didn't want her to "work."

In all that time the furniture was rooted in the same spot, the appliances never wore out and if a saucepan wore thin and developed a pin hole, you mended it; replacing it wasn't considered --you made do. It wasn't a case of thrift as much as custom--and there were no house and garden magazines encouraging consumerism.

My mother had no interest in owning a refrigerator and we kept an ice box on the back porch. We were the last family to get a fridge and the only reason we got one then was mom's best friend moved out of the province and sold hers to mom. As a kid I remember the good thing about a fridge is that the jello sets quickly; with an ice box it takes much longer.

We augmented the ice box with a cooler, an ordinary cupboard with some screened vent holes built against an outside wall,. We lived in Vancouver so the weather never got extraordinarily hot or cold and we used the cooler year-round.

Wringer washers were a fact of life and the laundry dried outside on the line and that might take days in Vancouver weather. Our wash day was Monday and it was an all-day affair, or it seemed that way to me when I was small.
Mom attended the wringer washer and the hired girl hung the wash out on the line that stretched from our back porch to the post at the very back of the garden.
When the wash came in, the pull-down ironing board in the kitchen came into play

This is a roundabout way of telling you about my fascination with my pal Vee who is a throwback to those times.

She is not affected by house and garden magazines or punchy consumer ads; she lives contentedly in her own time warp.

Vee and her husband built their house in 1962 and nothing has changed since they moved in. Same furniture in the same place, same wallpaper, same stove.
I haven't checked the washing machine and furnace.

The furniture is family pieces. I play bridge there and come to think of it I've never actually sat in that room.

We play bridge on the dining room table--yep, the same dining room table she has always had.

She does have a television set--just one, in the living room. I asked her once if she would consider getting a set for her bedroom and she looked at me as if I were nuts--Two televisions? What ever for?

I am fascinated with her stove. It was state-of-the-art when bought for the new house; for several years two burners weren't working and just recently she had them repaired.
If they couldn't have been fixed she would have carried on without them.That's an oven above the elements, not a microwave.

One of her daughter's slept in this room.
The lovely quilt was made by an aunt and there are many others folded away in old fashioned hump-back trunks.

Vee comes from local German stock and it was the custom, around here at least, to have an above-ground basement complete with living room with wood-burning fireplace, full kitchen and dining room. That's where the large visiting family members were entertained and by her description the meals were hearty.

After her husband died some twenty-odd years ago she swept out the fireplace and never used it again or the kitchen, and the furniture is gone from there.It wasn't as much sentiment as they shared the tasks and her practical side decided she didn't want to take on the full load herself.

She is a constant reminder to me of how far we have strayed from the habits and arrangements our parents established.

I doubt that Vee has ever thrown away any family items and eventually her daughters are going to have a problem sorting through that collection.

No matter--she thoroughly enjoys her home and her life on your own terms and may the stove elements last another twenty years.

My Resident Chip-Punk

2011-09-08T20:51:00.000-04:00

I shamelessly stole the name from my daughter.
Chip-punk is sitting in valuable bird space, his cheeks so full he probably can't shift the ballast to maneuver his way home.

Until I checked, I thought that chip-punks were considered the neighborhood mascot and that all animals left them alone.
Silly me.
Dogs, cats, foxes, owls and hawks consider them fair game.
Yikes.

My little guy has his home deep inside the rockery piled around the fish pond and I have no doubt he already has a larder stocked for winter.

He will probably live there for his full three-year life-span, if all of the above predators leave him alone.

I wonder if has a reclusive wife in that little nest.

Such a cute little guy.

Happy un-Anniversary

2011-09-07T09:05:00.017-04:00

Hal and I were married sixty years ago today.

We were a couple of clueless optimistic kids, just as it is with young kids marrying or the equivalent today.

We met when I was hired as the only permanent staff of a local neighborhood weekly paper; he edited the paper while taking a full course load at the local university. He'd take the streetcar over from campus after classes each day and he seldom slept.

I wrote some, managed the classified ads and young paper carriers and did my best to avoid my lecherous boss.

In the blink of an eye, Hal graduated, took a job as reporter with a daily newspaper, I worked as a commercial artist painting flowers on wooden salad bowls and it seemed a perfect time to get married.
In hindsight if we'd waited until we could afford it, we'd still be waiting.

My parents had dreamed of a fluffy white wedding for their only daughter so that's what we had. Still, by today's standards it was simple and relatively unpretentious.

We were dumb as sticks about the way the world works and it's probably just as well.

We quickly had two children and we moved to his new job three thousand miles away.

As an example of our dumbness and extreme good luck, we found a tract house an hour's drive from his workplace and we wrote a cheque for a down payment. This was on a Saturday; we had no money but for some reason this wasn't daunting.

Hal got on the phone and by Monday we had money to cover the down payment along with a mortgage and two demand loans.

We celebrated by having another baby.

We had six children all told and he spent the better part of our marriage working as a free-lance writer working from our house.
another time I'll tell you what that was like.

This may sound strange but the last year of his life was a happy one.

He had cancer and we both knew he wouldn't survive; every silly marriage game fell away and I learned what unconditional love really means.

We were together every step of the way and he died a week short of our thirty-eighth anniversary.

We had time to say all the things we needed to say.

This I've learned -- we never get truly smart about life--we just bumble along doing our best, trying not to hurt others in the process. Eventually we learn not to repeat the same mistakes and we concentrate on our own behaviour and forget about judging others.

Happy anniversary Hal, wherever you are; that was quite the adventure we shared.

Sunflower Insubordination

2011-09-05T08:40:00.001-04:00

I really, really like sunflowers but--why do they refuse to face the same direction as the rest of the garden blooms?

The sun rises in the east and that's good enough for them, so east it is.

This one looks as though it's in detention.

No need to run for the compass--

I see you you big rascal.

My daughter plants hers in big pots so she can turn them at will.

Next year.

Gardening 101

2011-09-03T07:37:00.001-04:00

Our local nurseries have a native plant section and they claim this is Lobelia, Canadian style.
So they say. Anyway, I couldn't resist and we'll see how this one handles life in a suburban patch of land.
So far it behaves like a rather pretty and sturdy weed.

And on that subject, If I were to give advice to a novice gardener and it seems I am about to--never never buy anything with the word "wort" attached to it. It may look just lovely in the pictures but consider it a weed. Another word for weed is prolific. You will spend a lot of your natural gardening life trying to keep it controlled.

I do have one or two in my garden and deliberately so. But I know how to control then. In the spring I attack them ruthlessly so that only a small clump blooms for the remainder of the summer.

It's sound garden planning to invest in perennials like Delphinium-- lots and lots of them and keep them clustered, Hostas for the shade (they spread out in time) and any kind of Daisy and you have the start of a garden.

A few annuals planted in bunches of one color give a lush appearance to their surroundings.

It isn't written anywhere that you must plant rigidly around the edges of your property. Go wild and dig out a bed in the middle or somewhere off-center to draw your eye in a pleasing fashion.

Perennials will stay with you for many years and they are usually at their peak in the sixth year. After that, you might want to thin them out or divide the roots but by this time you won't worry about doing that. It's like cutting your kid's hair or removing a sliver.

Once you get the general idea, you start layering colors and textures like a wardrobe and add a berm or two so the land isn't too flat.

I'm not a big fan of lawns.I say leave them to golf courses and have some fun substituting ornamental grasses, rocks, ponds, anything but lawn. They require fertilizers, they get grubs and other nasties and it's tough to maintain them since those awful poisons are taboo now. Sneak poisons in if you want but remember your children play and roll on that lawn and is that good for them?

End of lesson

I'm still on my hydrangea kick; these show another beautiful facet each day.

Perfection

2011-09-01T06:28:00.000-04:00

My Best Unplanned Crop

2011-08-29T10:50:00.001-04:00

See that? It's horseradish and it flourishes with no effort on my part. I first planted a root in my last garden two miles away and the location was perfect--close to the back door and blocked in by the pool. By sheer luck and ignorance it was contained and couldn't possibly wander off.

After I moved on to this new place, I tucked a nice root in the back corner of the garden but--but--there should have been a steel barrier installed underground at least seventy feet deep, to keep it in place.

I can't live without a grand supply of home-made horseradish sauce it but I wasn't counting on the huge leaves and god-knows-what's growing-underground taking over the entire garden and it probably has its sights on every other garden in town.

The pungent aroma and taste tends to thoroughly clean out your sinuses, let alone anything else above the eyebrows not thoroughly fastened in place, but it's worth it.

If only it would stay put.

If I ever move again, I'll plant it in a steel drum; with luck and effort on the part of the drum, it will be contained.

But, ah, the sauce.

Garden Kitch

2011-08-27T07:12:00.003-04:00

My weather vane has been through four moves with me. He has circled his domain from the third floor deck of a downtown century house in Toronto, atop a post attached to an above- ground pool in Waterloo, perched on a rod inserted in an old tree stump in Kitchener and now, from the shed roof in Waterloo. He is a reminder to me of the life that was with Hal.

Angel looked every bit the part until the it had an altercation with a garden rake. I was unsuccessful at mending it so it tries to behave angelically in two parts.

Not entirely successful since that head takes on a menacing face don't you think? It reminds me of "The Omen."

My cats are living elsewhere now but I have this in their memory.

The antiques sign is a newer find and it amuses me that we continue to hang in there together.
I use it as a snow marker in the winter.

Somewhere out there is more kitch just waiting for me.

My Storm Was Bigger Than Your Storm

2011-08-25T08:30:00.020-04:00

Forgive my silly title but we are all brimming with tales of our most recent storms and this is mine.

We were alerted yesterday that a tornado-strength storm was on the way and as news dribbled in I realized my daughter lived on the storm path and that was foremost in my mind.

We're still shaken from the news that the nearby town of Goderich was savaged by a tornado on the weekend and now it might be our turn.

In the early evening rumbles of thunder and lightning flashes lit the sky.

Shortly after a ribbon message at the bottom of the TV screen warned people south of us to take cover.

The storm hit us; the thunder and lightning was violent and lasted for hours; sheet lightning, forked lightning, we had it all.

This picture was taken by an unidentified photographer in Toronto.

It was the kind of storm that made me ache to take my grown children in my arms and tell them how much I love them.

All in all, a dramatic time.

So this morning I looked out the window and everything seemed normal. I turned on the radio and they were discussing Libya.

I know there was a storm. I saw the storm.
Was I dreaming?

On my morning walk the sky looked like this--a little uncertain but stable.
I E-mailed my two local sons--are you okay?

Both replied virtually the same way, "Well, duh." Apparently I took the storm more seriously but they had company and I didn't.

My daughter reported she prudently spent part of the night in the basement so she was impressed with the storm.

I took this shot in the late morning. It's just an uneasy sort of day.

Now I know why last night's storm wasn't in the news first thing this morning: it happened at night and the storm specialists don't know how to grade it until daylight and they can see the damage.
One city south of us might have been hit hardest and in a lot of places trees were uprooted and there were power outages.

The hail stones were this size south of us.

Next time there is a warning of this kind I'm high-tailing it to the home of the nearest son, then I can be calm and collected while all hell breaks loose.

What's With the Roses Aiming Sideways?

2011-08-24T06:55:00.001-04:00

If my rose canes continue to inch sideways instead of straight up I may be inspired to write "The Mystery of the Deadly Wandering Tendrils." Or--- I might just tie up the canes and get on with life.

I don't know whether it was the new brick carpet installed above their roots but now they really like to spread out at a ninety-degree angle and that isn't what I had in mind.

They have such pleasant surroundings with the brick I thought they'd continue heading up the arch as usual and I'd just clip the blooms at each end.

Their personal preference is to bloom at the very top of the arch and clipping them would require a six-foot step ladder and determination.

Making the correction takes a little planning and preparation.
It's always loads of fun wrestling them into an upright position and maneuvering twist ties around the thorns while hampered by critically needed garden gloves .

Voila. They are having a blooming sabbatical right now but there will be more color shortly.

Look at that--four perfect roses peeking out from those crazy branches. And at pick-able level too.

They make it all worth while.

My Vine Must Be On Steroids

2011-08-22T12:04:00.001-04:00

This is my china berry vine today. Soon the berries will turn porcelain white with a mystical purple aura.

Just don't get the idea this is a sweet, delicate little vine. No indeed.

I brought it home as an impulse buy from a nursery three years ago and read up on it.

Words like "vociferous grower" and "hard-to-manage" popped up time and again.
I figured a spoil-sport wrote that because my sweet vine grew in a stately, almost languid manner.

Until this year.

This year despite a drought that sent plants into early pack- it- in for the season mode, my vine decided to try for the marathon; any marathon as long as it meant breaking world records.

My plan was was that the honeysuckle would grow at one end with its blooming time earlier in the summer and when it faded the china berry would take over at the other end.
And take over it did. This year my once- polite vine sprinted over the archway, shimmied down a trellis and across a window.

I'm thinking of alerting the next door neighbors that it's heading their way.

I'll let it have its fun for now and next spring, we'll see if the honeysuckle is just as tough. They can duke it out.

This is why gardeners never have the last word.

End-Of-Summer Performers

2011-08-20T09:39:00.002-04:00

Passing birds dropped sunflower seeds in the planter. Good aim. Lovely effect.

The Pee gee Hydrangea is slowly coming into bloom. funny, I used to dislike this type and now it's a favorite.

The yellow raspberries are beginning their second crop; I'll freeze this batch and bring them out on a snowy evening--to remind me that winter is merely part of the cycle and we'll get to the growing season before long.

The peaches are growing nicely under the netting but I've got to think that removing that netting will be an adventure.

You know, it would be just fine with me if we had a really, really long summer/fall.

Aw's' Trip To the Driver's Center

2011-08-19T06:38:00.002-04:00

Aw finally went for her written driver's test. I'm not sure why it took her so long unless she wanted to improve her language skills first.

At the center we stood in line like quiet sheep until it was her turn; she handed over forms, duplicate forms, passport,copy of her Thai license, all that stuff.

The nice lady at the counter said there was one stamp missing on one duplicate form so we had to drive back to the multicultural center where we had started, and pay another five dollars so they could correct their mistake.

Back to the drivers test centre and back in line.

A little progress; this time the papers were in order, she was handed another number and we sat until she was called to the counter. The person presiding at this next counter was seriously uptight and I am presuming his skivvies were too tight.

The counter was so high she had to stand on tip- toe to sign more forms and take her required eye test. After that Mr.Up-Tight gave her another number and again we sat.

For diversion we watched people emerge from the test area; most were elated but there were a few dejected ones.
Aw's turn came and she disappeared behind the screened area for half an hour.

She aced her written test and received her temporary license so we happily drove off to lunch before it occurred to us that we weren't sure what to do next.

We're practical; first we tackled the food and then we returned to the driving centre, had another wait in line and then the nice lady booked the road test.

I'm not worried about that test. Frankly, anyone who learned to drive in Bangkok (population somewhere in the area of ten to twenty million (seriously) can handle driving in a nice little city like Kitchener(population 200,000 and change).

Stay tuned.

Late Bloomers

2011-08-17T09:38:00.001-04:00

Hippo looks pleased with the blooms sprouting behind him. I guess it's better than having a monkey on his back. (what on earth have I been reading lately?)
I've been harvesting petunia seeds for years and at first the color varied and now they're this two-tone and I like the effect.

So far one morning glory has pushed through the dry soil; the mirror helps with the more-is-better factor.

The reflection also clearly demonstrates that the raised bed needs a lot more more soil and mulch; before winter sets in, I'll begin supplementing.
I'll have to find a willing person with muscles to tote the bags from the front driveway over to the side and up some stairs, across the deck,down the stairs and across to the back of the garden.

It's not that I can't find a generous soul to help-it's just that there are so many pokey things like that and I have to prioritize or the family will run in the other direction when I ask, "How busy are you?"

This is where we envision sweet perky little grandma whipping up a yummy apple pie as a thank you. Gee, I wish. My pies are sometimes fabulous and then there are the other times.
Come to think of it, I make gorgeous Yorkshire pudding, most of the time.

Saturday Nights

2011-08-16T07:15:00.001-04:00

Saturday night is family dinner night at my place. It's flexible--come if you're in the mood, bring a meal contribution if you wish and everyone kick back.

The architect of these evenings, going on for around four years now, is #3 son, the one on the right wearing his goofy look. Actually the hall mirror reflects two goofy looks.

He moved here from Alberta around five years ago to re-connect with family and at first we had barbecues on the deck, just the two of us; soon we were joined by his bride. More local family members joined in and occasionally out-of-town members drop by to make sure they don't miss anything.
This is pure gold to a mother's heart.

This was one of those iffy rain-threatning nights so I decided to do the cooking indoors. When it's on the barbecue, one of the others takes over the grill.

On this night it will be oriental flavored pulled pork on toasted buns with crunchy salad and a light dessert. Super simple for a summer evening. The pork went into the crock pot at seven in the morning and the major part of the work was done.

There's always a word or board game ready for later--mostly we talk politics, resolve world or family issues or settle in to watch a movie.

See that clump of items on the shelf to the right, in front of the cow? That's my to-do stuff. A little sneaky I admit, but family is all here and there are some things I can't manage so it's stop and fix it time. Usually it'll all over within ten minutes.

Tonight it's change a watch battery (I couldn't open the case), take the lethal cork screw out of the bottle top opener, move the couch a few inches from the wall (that way I can vacuum behind the couches and it's one of those theater seating set-ups I can't move on my own). Finally A quick fix on my computer and we're done.

If the guys have a designated driver with them they have a single malt scotch to signify the end of the stop- and -fix moment.

A little more "Try to look natural" posing and we are well into another wonderful family evening.

Great idea, # 3 son.

The Garden Etceteras

2011-08-14T06:38:00.000-04:00

I had high hopes that birds would set up housekeeping in the little houses on the fence. A sparrow peeked in once; have you ever seen a sparrow snicker? Well, he did.
Some creature gnawed on the entrance to one house so perhaps a squirrel was momentarily distracted--or teething.

I placed an artful assortment of watering cans upright on on this hanger but the squirrels made a game of knocking them to the ground so now they are tucked in spout-first so the rodents have to find their amusement elsewhere.

Water barrels aren't pretty but such a life-saver during the dry times.

Alas, the season was too dry for my acorn squash to develop. Next year baby, we might have just the right amount of rain.

Summer Vacation

2011-08-12T14:44:00.010-04:00

Some mothers worry when their hedonistic kids spend their vacations at Club Med and have no intention of reporting what they did and why they look so tired.

My son Peter is back home from his annual vacation and he is fit and full of energy. He selects his area far away from hotels and room service with only an occasional passing cougar or bear for company.

This was taken in B.C. in July; although it's been a hot summer the mountains apparently didn't get the memo.

The photographer was not a passing furry creature--Pete took the shots himself.

Now he's refreshed and raring to go, plotting his next mountain adventure. By himself.

Welcome back, Pete. You're super cautious and prepared but I must confess I might have allowed a small sigh of relief to escape my lips when you arrived back home.

Taming A Garden

2011-08-11T04:28:00.000-04:00

I don't think my son Steve and his wife Aw will disagree if I say their house falls to the bottom of the chart for curb appeal.

That didn't bother them when they bought the place three years ago because once you forced yourself to go inside, you could see lots of potential.

She is a fabulous cook and he is a fabulous carpenter/contractor too busy to tend to his own place and gardening doesn't fit in their list of interests.

After I whimpered and mewled for a while they gave me the green light to tackle the front jungle with my grandson Jamie as helper. That means he got to do all the digging.

The road on their block is being upgraded (i.e torn up,along with driveways and sidewalks.)
Probably not the best time to take on this challenge but I was hot to go.

This is a "before" view of the front on the bedroom side.

It wasn't intended to be a lovely landscaping job--it had to be quick and dirty and something that would care for itself.

I couldn't resist taking this picture of Jamie. Some day they willl shudder at the sight of those low-crotch pants. They will shudder won't they? Please.

Below is "after" in that corner. We took out some scabby shrubs and things that had been planted too close to the foundation to flourish and tucked in the hydrangea and dwarf Alberta spruce.

Below is the "before" of the area under the porch.

And after.

In the spring we'll level the ground and plant grass seed to cover the places where the old garden beds had been.

Aw says that next year she will plant lots of colorful annuals in the blank spaces and that's encouraging. She might even find she likes gardening.

Next on my whimpering list is to get them to paint over that obnoxious false brick front.

Some people might describe my actions as nagging, but Steve and Aw are too nice to say that.
And the neighbors love me.

The Rise and Fall of The Sunflower

2011-08-10T06:08:00.003-04:00

Sunflower was looking happy and perky at its station right alongside two bird feeders.

Admittedly that was a planting mistake; birds just love sunflower seeds so naturally they munch happily and thank me for placing it in such a convenient spot.

It look pretty dejected here but I hope it understands I meant nothing personal.

Munch on, birdies.

A Surprisingly Wrenching Car Swap

2011-08-08T06:30:00.002-04:00

I've always been attracted to cars that vaguely resemble army tanks and my Honda CRV fitted the criteria. It was the first car I bought on my own after Hal died, and it had one previous owner, a Mennonite who never engaged in any frivolous acts, like speeding or running a red light.

When the kids were young we bought some kind of a second-hand vehicle that a friend said resembled a World War Two ambulance (are you seeing a parallel here?) and I kind of think it did. It had four cylinders and we used it to haul a nineteen- foot house trailer from Ontario to B.C. and back without a falter. Later we headed for the east coast and around Lake Ontario with great results.We called it the Iron Elephant, a fitting name.

Now I always believed the CRV and I would be ready for the bone yard at the same time but my timing was out and although it was still going strong, it was old in car years.
I'm old in human years but the family genes are holding me together just fine and I'm still driving.

It was time to upgrade.

It was surprisingly heart-wrenching to part with old faithful the other day and I was on the mopey side getting used to the more compact and not- meant- for- hauling anything Hundai Elantra.

I'm slowly getting used to this newer car and it's non-tank appearance and I'm sure we'll be friends. Keyless entry is sacks of fun and in the winter the seats can be electrically warmed. How luxurious is that?

Most of the time I am grateful I am still mobile because once the car goes, the walls close in.

Just saying.

Potato Crop

2011-08-07T06:14:00.001-04:00

This is the second year I've grown potatoes in a barrel and it's a good method when space is at a premium.

When the leaves start to wither it's time to harvest and that part is simple enough--lay out a tarp and dump into it the barrel contents.

I'm not done foraging through yet but this is the crop so far.
I cooked some last night in a skillet in a puddle of chicken broth and when the liquid was about gone, I added a dollop of butter, salt and pepper.
Yum.

The other barrel is not going to be harvested for a while and we'll see if the potatoes get any larger.
The soil is that light-as-air stuff that doesn't qualify as real dirt and I'm thinking that next year I'll use the real stuff.

Nothing will be wasted; the stalks go into the compost and the pseudo- dirt goes into the raised beds.

And there's always next year.

My Never-Fail Crops--Although I'd like them To Try

2011-08-06T05:42:00.000-04:00

Frog is keeping a brotherly eye on my two fastest garden-growers.

Garlic and horseradish are nice but I was hoping there would be more lettuce and acorn squash.

The garlic at least had the good manners to grow where it was planted but the horseradish is another story.

I planted one root in the back left corner of the yard and now the stuff grows wherever it jolly well pleases, and that seems to be everywhere.

I wouldn't be terribly surprised to find it popping up through the bathtub drain.

Horseradish sauce is a big winner in my family, despite the fact that when you're preparing it, the fumes could flatten a thirty ton bull.

So you keep watching, frog and before you know it, that stuff will have you clinging precariously to the garden gate.

First Harvest

2011-08-05T06:22:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I spotted a flash of red deep inside the leaves of the un-pruned tomato plant and there it was--my first ripe beauty.

Now this may look like a small-potatoes harvest to you but I'm really quite proud.

And speaking of potatoes mine are also ready for harvesting as soon as I find the energy.

It's still hot and humid.

I've been munching the peas right off the vine but it might be fun to actually cook some for a change.

The spinach didn't make it at all and the rabbits left me one head of lettuce but that's okay--mine is an equal opportunity garden.

On the positive side, there have been gentle spatters of rain the past couple of days.

I love summer.

The Old And The Old

2011-08-03T12:59:00.017-04:00

There is nothing more beautiful than the pond lotus; perfect in every sense. They're probably as old as Buddha and as enduring.
Here, Buddha is admiring the view.

Also old in time and enduring are many old order Mennonite families in the surrounding area; in fact, many stores provide mini stables for tethering the horses while the owners shop.
This owner chose a close-by convenience --shade and a sturdy hitching post.

The story goes that Mennonites buy retired race horses to pull their buggies and their steeds have a spirited look about them.

Not to be confusing, but my son is a new order Mennonite and I don't believe he is sure which end of the horse is which; lucky for him the new order group drive cars and doesn`t own any black clothing, unless it`s a tux or a basic black dress.
If I continue it will be confusing.

I`ll stop now.

The Air Conditioner In Hiding

2011-08-02T09:52:00.002-04:00

As you approach the back garden, you will see and often hear the clunky but well-loved air conditioner.

What can I say? I got it in my head it should be heard but not seen and since I was on a roll and the nurseries were selling off everything at the end of the season, I bought ornamental grass.

Not just any ornamental grass as it turns out--the mother of all grasses and if you don't stand by with a machete, it will spread three houses over, never mind the brick walls in its way.

Okay, I exaggerate a tad.

This season, I snip off a bit once in a while and the harsh drought stems the exuberant growth.

And I guarantee you won't see the machine.

The Family Chef

2011-08-01T08:06:00.002-04:00

Aw married my son Steve a couple of years ago. They met on his second back-packing trip through Thailand and eventually she visited Canada to check out his relatives and if we hadn't passed muster she was not marrying Steve.
Family is all-important to Thai culture and she wanted family support. She has it.

Her formal name is Ladawan and the custom is to use a nick-name so hers became Aw.

Bringing her into the family also gave us an inspired cook and this is what we learned from law Aw's cooking : deep fried tofu is amazingly good and one chicken breast is enough to supply meat for two for a week.

The Thai mainstay is noodles, mostly very thin noodles that are first soaked in water and then tossed with oil in a wok-like pan along with meticulously sliced veggies and eventually a small handful of shrimp or a hint of chicken.
And the wonderful spices--she doesn't give us Thai strength because she says she is afraid she'll hurt us.
The results are out of this world delicious.

Aw watches carefully while one of us is cooking and takes notes or simply remembers all the steps and can reproduce the dish with her own embellishments. She also absorbs the cooking shows and takes careful notes.

I had always done ribs by parboiling and finishing off by basting them briefly on the grill. Aw dry-rubs them with her brought-from-Thailand spices, tents them and cooks them at a low heat for hours. When she serves them they look dry and that's misleading --they're out of this world succulent.

When I have the family over for Saturday evening barbecues she gently nudges me out of the way and her cooking results are brilliant.

She attends ESL classes and her fellow students appreciate her enthusiasm and her lack of shyness; she regularly shepherds them to restaurants to teach them how to order North American food. They wanted to but didn't know how.

Here she is finishing up a dish.

Bon appetit.

Hummingbirds Where Are you?

2011-07-31T06:03:00.003-04:00

I loved the look of the glass hummingbird feeders on the garden tours and when I spotted one at a shop, I bought it.

I filled the globe with the water and sugar mixture and sat back to watch the hummingbird invasion. The invasion turned out to be wasps and they believed they have found nirvana.

I'll have to sneak out at night when the wasps are sleeping and move the feeder to a away-from-people place.

Of course, then I won't spot a hummingbird even if one does come visit.

Alas

My Garden Drought Survivors

2011-07-30T06:41:00.000-04:00

Funny thing about planting sunflower seeds; drop them directly into the soil and I swear the earth opens up and swallows them whole.
Except for this big soldier, my one survivor.

These good sports are doing pretty well although they are on the runty side. They endure on a smattering of rain and any bit of hand watering that comes their way.

Ornamental grasses stand proud no matter what and their elegance and strength pull the entire garden together. I think they have a camel-like method of storing water.

I tried planting tomatoes amongst the regular flowers and they didn't do at all well. A big fat zero. Did they not like their companions or was it the parched soil? The reflection of the rose in the mirror helps this one along in the picture.

I dug out one skimpy tomato plant yesterday and re-potted it in its own container; let's hope if it was in time.

This is my one happy tomato plant in the centre bed and it represents what keeps gardeners at it year after year. You learn from your mistakes and carry on.

Every year, new mistakes and new discoveries. It keeps you both humble and grateful.

My Kitchen Table Exploded.

2011-07-29T04:25:00.002-04:00

I thought a huge brick had been hurled through the window and I cautiously entered the kitchen to find it wasn't a brick--the glass top had really and truly exploded into fine powder-like crystals.

How does this happen?

Had I had been in the room I would have needed E.R. assistance and a child would have suffered a worse enounter.

Mine is not the only to suffer this crazy upset. I couldn't get the link to work but try this: Arvada woman says Martha Stewart table exploded for no reason

House Guest

2011-07-28T06:18:00.000-04:00

Eli is visiting while his family is away for the week.

I figured it would be smooth sailing until I checked over the manifesto regarding his care.

Right off the top--forget Peter Rabbit--lettuce can give them the runs. Dear-god-please-not-on-my-watch.
They like parsley and carrots, a scoop of pellets each day and a bit of hay. I haven't noticed any wild or even moderate enthusiasm for the latter but we'll see.

Keep the water bottle filled but he really prefers his water from his food, so you make sure you run it under the tap before he gets it.

A closer look at the section on FOOD--how much and what and when. I had been giving him both parsley and carrots and it's supposed to be either/or. What if he waddles when his family returns?

Then there's COMFORT. Stroke him from nose to back. okay, so far so good and he likes it.

Apparently rabbits will chew any electric cords in their path so he isn't coming out of his jail call for the week and he's a bit cramped.
He has a lovely big cage at home but it was too difficult to bring that here in a small car.

Next, HOW TO PICK UP A RABBIT.Well, I would except for the intimidating last sentence: "they have a scramble instinct and he may try to jump out of your arms."
Listen I'm not as agile as I once was and I've got those electrical cords to think about. I like reading at night and the flashlight won't do.

I think we're doing fine. I talk and he pretty well has to listen.

Your peeps will come get you soon sweet guy.

In the meantime it's you and Gramma.

And no scrambling.

Market Day

2011-07-26T06:55:00.007-04:00

We took a family trip to the Kitchener Saturday market and watched Aw, who is five foot nothing, dart through crowds and under elbows to find the best and freshest of everything.

Her sister-in law Lorrie is no slouch herself but Aw has that Bangkok edge.

Satisfied we had accomplished our mission we headed down the street to the big Chines grocery. Forget sterile, neatly polished and waxed supermarket fruit and veggies and think more basic.

There are Thai markets in town but Aw finds most of what she wants here and in a nearby Vietnamese grocery store. I'm not sure why this is and when her English gets to the next level, I'll ask.

This market is like stepping into another world--different aromas, multi languages and great prices on live crabs and frozen baby scallops and spices. You can find most of these things at the big supermarkets but the atmosphere will never be the same.

I'll admit some of the displays didn't entice me to buy.

Steve seems to agree with me on this.

I was surprised to find English on many of the items so you have a better chance of buying the right thing.

At Last! A Bird Sighting

2011-07-24T22:38:00.000-04:00

Remember how I lamented a blog or two back that the new bird feeder was being boycotted?

Well, now I am in finch heaven.

The sweetie even noshed at the appropriate slot for finches.

Such a smart bird.

Next time, bring your friends.

PETER

2011-07-24T07:16:00.000-04:00

This is my # 4 son Peter and it's his birthday today. He always celebrates the day the same way; a friend drives him to the base of a pre-selected mountain and he heads off and up on his own for several days and he is later picked up at the starting point.

Not bad a for a kid who had his first asthma attack before he was a week old.

Pete chose a simple life style not always understood by others: he lives well below the poverty level, doesn't owe money, drives a bike instead of a car and given the opportunity, will figuratively grab your lapels to warn you of the ecological savaging of the planet.
He is knowledgeable and speaks from study and experience.

His lungs benefit from the clean mountain air and he learned a long time ago how to live with and by himself.

He takes beautiful movies of his adventures with nature. I'm not crazy about the idea of him being close enough to film a grizzly fishing, but I do know he is careful and I hope the grizzly minds his manners when they're in the same area.

He was pretty young when he decided to be a musician for all his life and this was his official start, on a Christmas long ago.
He refused lessons and has been self-taught all these years.

Drums are still in his life but he has branched out and can play most instruments.

He takes public transit to most of his his gigs, lugging along his guitar or mandolin or keyboard, but he has to work out a compromise when larger equipment is called for.

His family love and appreciate him as he is, but still, what if something goes wrong during one of those hikes? We persuaded him to carry a G.P.S. tracker he calls "Zippy," and Zip tells us several times a day where he is hiking and if he gets into trouble there is an emergency button to push and his exact location is sent to the appropriate help.

So birthday boy, breath the clean mountain air and come back as always ready to fight for the planet you love and respect.

The Peach Tree Saga

2011-07-23T07:16:00.001-04:00

Last year the peach tree came to live at the back of the garden and the squirrels loved the convenience of sitting on the fence and casually reaching over to nibble the fruit.

Next time anyone strong enough to use a shovel dropped by the tree was moved closer to the house, next to the rose bushes.

So far so good, win or lose a couple. Then, I bought some netting to give the two remaining peaches a chance to grow to full term.

I've never bought netting before and I envisioned stuff that resembled fish nets, suitable for catching smaller fish. All I could find is this and I don't think it's the best kind to get--As you shake it open it floats up into the air in slow motion and wherever it chooses to land is pretty well it.

On what turned out to be my first and last try, everything nearby was covered but the two peaches stood proudly untouched and I sported the results of vengeful rose thorns.

Oh well. This will provide more of a challenge to the squirrels and next year, another kind of netting. That's assuming I can ever remove this one without suffering serious lacerations and derision from the squirrels.

Does the New Bird Feeder Have The Cooties?

2011-07-22T06:30:00.000-04:00

It looks okay. I bought it recently when the other one split in half, rolling bird seed out over everything.

The stickers attached to this one claims that it holds every kind of birdseed, so no bird can feel slighted.

I added something for everyone, big seeds, tiny seeds and in between, so where are the birds? The seed level has gone down some but I've never seen a nibbler at the buffet.

Either this feeder attracts reclusive birds that don't like people watching them eat or the new plastic smell is putting them off.

Mental note: next time, wash feeder before filling to get rid of the nasty plastic smell.
Or hope for invasion of winged extroverts.

A Hot Day In Paradise

2011-07-21T06:31:00.000-04:00

This was the temperature yesterday. It felt hotter. Much, much hotter.

The hosta took a liking to the white blooms and makes a pleasing bouquet. It's particularly nice to admire while we slowly bake.

Meanwhile Fish and Buddha have the shadiest spot in the garde, overlooking the pond.

I'd join them if I could figure out how to extricate myself after cooling off. The muscles don't always cooperate for the return trip and if I got stuck there long enough Buddha would have permanent company.

Thrift Takes A Wrong Turn

2011-07-20T07:10:00.007-04:00

I'm a thrifty person and when I was plotting economical ways to cover my back lawn with bricks I didn't have and wasn't planning to buy, my first thought was to check Kijiji, a good place to find free almost-anythings.

A nice lady promptly responded, offering me a large complement of pavers she wanted removed from her walkways. Pavers are like bricks but have square corners.

I hired someone to go dig up and collect the pavers, bring them here, unload them and stack them round in the back yard.

There they are in the picture--waiting for the next step.

I hired someone to start the process. He knew as much as I did--you just dig out a little bit, slap in the pavers and fill the joins with the dirt you dug up. Easy.

Then a professional person happened by my yard soon after we got started. Coincidence?
I rather believe a family intervention was taking place.

Anyway, quickly the pavers are uprooted and a professional crew came in to grade, lay down a bed of crushed stone, pound it down and then, only then, did the brand new just-purchased- from- a- brick yard bricks go into place. Followed by just-purchased sand to fill the spaces.

I guess you can see that my thrift wasn't well thought out.

I had to hire someone to take the now aging pavers from the back to the front and stack them neatly on the driveway while I figured out how to get rid of them. They stacked them directly in front of the garage door so the car lost its shelter for a couple of weeks.

An ad in Kijiji brought us someone eager to take the pavers away.

Moral of this story? Let's see, free pavers, pay for labor to bring here and set in, then pay someone to un-set and stack them around the front, and then we have the hiring of professionals to do the job with brand new bricks and sand.

Have I learned my lesson?

We'll see

cows and hedgehogs

2011-07-19T06:42:00.000-04:00

Cow keeps close check on the back yard happenings. Not much to do during the hot spell. No one had the energy for mischief.
The drought has left my squash vines stunted but they may yet make a comeback.

I finally painted the rain barrel; white just didn't set the tone and the blue is friendly. Okay, I admit it could use another coat. manana.

Badger or hedgehog? I've never met either one. Anyway, he finally had his chance to act as the mud scraper he's supposed to be and his bristles fell out.
Poor dear. He's retired now.

I try to stay away from kitch, but really, a corner cow? How could anyone resist.
My junk yard man is gone now so there may not be anymore corner cows in my future.

Update of the South Side

2011-07-18T07:04:00.000-04:00

Here is the south end of the property on day one of the move seven years ago. Yes, feel free to say the house closely resembles an army barracks.

First thing, I took some flour and made an outline of this bed, making it deep and with scallops. My daughter the Empress then dug it out and chopped up the rough soil.

She was also the champ who, until the move, stored umpteen plants and shrubs I wanted to keep from the old garden; we were so tidy about it you wouldn't know we had pillaged.

The next year showed a small improvement; no overall plan--just creating day by day. I had lugged the old pseudo brick fountain-turned-planter around with me from house to house and it settled nicely into the corner.
Keep an eye on that hosta in the lower left corner. Man oh man, did that little puppy have a growth spurt.

See what I mean?

This is the usual sight in the spring, once the snow melts. Seasoned gardeners know that underneath that debris are sleeping sprouts that will soon come looking for the sun.
It's best not to go mucking around the beds just then because you might lose or displace the little guys, possible permanently.
And okay I confess, I scrabbled out there in the mud during our long, long rain spell this spring and it turned out very well. The ground was so pliable it was a pleasure to weed and tidy up although I'm still working the garden out of my fingernails. The plants didn't seem to suffer from my stomping around. Lucky is what I was.

The pond-turned-planter is gone now and the small plants have turned into extra large and the results are pleasing.

The right hand corner needs work now. That's next on my list, the minute the temperature goes down from its current plus 38C.

New Neighbours?

2011-07-17T07:55:00.000-04:00

For a couple of days it was treacherous to step from the deck to the terrace.
Whoom! Sparrows chattering at me from all directions and warning me to mind my manners. The nest is in the center of the picture.

Okay, I get it--they're building a nest in the arbor right above the steps.

If I knew how to Photo Shop, I would have drawn some squiggles to show you where the nest is located. But I haven't and I can't so it's in the upper left side of the arbor.

Yesterday I saw six or seven sparrows perched near the nest as I passed through; they remained quiet.

Today, not a sound. Or a peep. I wonder if they decided I wasn't trainable. I thought I was behaving, I really did.

I guess in a day or so I'll know for sure if the nest is occupied.

I was really looking forward to babies peeping out from that nest.

The Potato Crop

2011-07-15T18:45:00.008-04:00

This is my potato crop--two barrel's worth.

I drilled some holes in the bottom of two plastic garbage cans, gratefully accepted the gift of several seed potatoes, added soil and I was in business.

It's pretty simple: as the green leafy stalks push up, add more soil until finally the top of the barrel is reached. by that time, the plants have flowered and apparently that is the signal that the little duffers are plumping up down there. I can't remember when one harvests them. I'll wait another month and then try a trial test burrowing in one corner to see what's what.

Last year on my first try, I used ordinary wizened out-of-the-grocery bag potatoes with green shoots and my crop consisted of twelve spuds. Twelve.

This years I think the crop will be larger.

After that comes the problem of storage. I recall books on pioneer life when root cellars were the way to go. To accomplish that I'd have to dig under my nice new brick "lawn" so we'll forget that and there's no cold room in my tiny basement.

So- during the winter my basement is warm and the garage is freezing cold. Where to store the home-grown veggies?

That's my conundrum.

The Challenge Of An Empty Wall

2011-07-15T07:44:00.008-04:00

At first the deck wall was short. Really, really short. See the grey-ish boards at the lower level? That's how high it was.
Picture this--you step out of your kitchen onto your deck and directly in front of you is your neighbor stepping out of her kitchen onto her deck.
This works if you and your neighbor are over-the-top friendly and itching to chat but honestly, I prefer to be separated by a tall screen.

Son#3 came to visit, and since he is a carpenter it seemed just wrong not to get him on his feet and working to create a taller wall to screen out--well--people.
And a fine he job he did.

Having decks side-by-side, which incidentally is apparently not to code, you have to pretend you're alone. It doesn't help when the people on the other side smoke a lot but it beats sitting on a steel fire escape outside your fourth-floor walk-up.
Bear with me--I've been thinking a lot about the novel, "A Tree Grows In Brooklyn," and it reminds me how lucky I am to even have a house of my own.

What I started out to say was--did you notice that enticingly blank space on the wall? I keep that blank space in mind on my travels. I'm still searching for another junk yard to find a round, flat steel something that would bring that area to life.

Meanwhile, each garbage pick-up day I'll scout the discards and something will pop out, begging me to lug it home.

The Firsts

2011-07-14T07:34:00.000-04:00

The prolonged rains set the gardens back and the firsts are just now showing their faces.

The first of the tomatoes.

They probably have a lovely Latin name but to me they are the golden berries. They start early and last until first frost; biting into one is a sweet, magical experience.

The start of many kinds of daisies

My advice to people who need plants and have no love for gardens: always say "yes" if offered lilies.Plant them far apart from one another and soon you will have a full-to-the-brim garden. See how easy that was?

A word about this kind of lily. if you live in Ontario it should be the provincial flower.
Although--when my son married his prairie maiden, she carried Prairie Lilies, and guess what? The same flower.
Mine is actually a double and I love it. I call it Miss Lorrie after my sweet daughter-in law.

Don't consider this a whine or anything but--a fifteen minute rain shower would be welcome. My rain barrels are almost dry.

West Side Story

2011-07-13T09:17:00.000-04:00

This was the upper west side of the property when I moved in. I couldn't afford to replace the chain link fence and it took a while to figure out how to soften the effect.
I think this property was bog land and after a rainfall, that side of the garden was soggy bordering on flooded. Eventually it became the place to dump debris and plant anything that likes wet bottoms.

The new brick "lawn" has corrected the flooding so this section might become dear to my heart in time.

This is the upper west corner with its gate shortly after I moved in.
The gate is to the right of the mirrors.
Each fence had a gate so the original group of home owners must have been a friendly group with small kids who played back and forth. Unfortunately there are few kids now and no reason to keep the gates.
In fact, the last time mine was used was around 2AM when my neighbor noticed two prowlers in my yard and alerted police; the intruders scooted through that gate to avoid detection.

Now a raised bed deters two-legged night visitors.

One of my helpful sons assembled this container for the gangly cuttings that are a nuisance to stuff into yard waste bags and besides, it will break down into yummy garden loam in time.
Cow has been sitting on that tree branch forever. She seems to like it.

Here we are today. The wheel barrow always ends up there and the area embraces the shade (bog) garden, a couple of the raised beds and two bins of potatoes.

Here it is from a distance which is a good idea. The flaws blend into the busy-ness of the area and it looks fairly tidy.

Seven Year Itch

2011-07-12T07:56:00.009-04:00

This was the small wasteland I moved into seven years ago this month. It was perfect. The previous owners considered lawn-cutting to be serious gardening so I had a blank palette to play with, and I did.

The pond was an early addition. We placed it close to the deck so that the fish could be admired from there. Now that I know better, the placement was correct but it would take a healthy forty-five pound Koi to be seen from a sitting position on the deck.

Ornamental grasses went in first to provide a solid base.
I also scouted the area construction sites for rocks and slowly hauled away a sizeable amount.
The down side is that the fingers and wrists declare a national holiday for a while until the muscles heal. No matter--we're getting a garden here.

And here we are today. My dreams come in small bursts. Never an entire plan to work from. Just pick away at one end, then tug away somewhere else and eventually it pulls together into a pleasant setting.

About that seven-year itch. I find myself snooping around to see if there's another small plot somewhere that might benefit from my poking and pulling.

I've probably got one more move in me.

Connect The Ankle Bone To The---

2011-07-11T12:30:00.000-04:00

Two years ago I asked son #3 to make me a lattice screen to hide the rotary clothes drier.
The war still rages about the desirability of outdoor clothes lines. Don't ask me. I continue to hang out the clothes but I'm doing it gracefully to appease any fretting neighbors.

The following year, son #2 came to visit and he and son #5 built me three raised beds and you can see one attached to the lattice screen.

This was my opportunity to follow my original plan to plant a vine or two that would attach to the screen.

This year I stained the sides of the raised beds and the effect is pleasing.
Clematis thread their blooms through the vines and it's lovely.
You're not seeing that loveliness because when they were at their best, the brick men were installing the brick "lawn" and both the clematis and vines wore heavy, dusty grey beards.

This is where the clothesline rules. The growth is more lush on this side and I am delighted with the way this has evolved.

It all began when I stared out the window in the middle of a painfully long winter, dreaming of summer.

Lucky for me I have a collection of sons to bring my dreams to life.

Yin Yang, Episode Two

2011-07-10T08:14:00.004-04:00

Yesterday I left you with Buddha contemplating cat, who was contemplating a fish meal.

This morning, cat has disappeared from the rock.

I suppose a helpful raccoon knocked cat off his rock.

Does that look like a smirk on Buddha's face?

Just asking.

Yin and Yang

2011-07-09T08:47:00.004-04:00

My Date With The Junk Yard

2011-07-07T22:56:00.015-04:00

I found this metal arch in a yard full of rusting junk, all deliciously for sale. The place was a panacea of found art, if you had the patience to look and stepped carefully. The most difficult part was finding the yard owner who preferred to hide out in his house with his cats and didn't always reply to desperate pounding on the door.

My faithful '97 Honda CRV always accommodated any relic I might find on my travels.

By the time I hauled it home I'd figured out where it should go and the end of the new deck looked like a winner. #3 son did his magic and presto, an archway was born.

It looked pretty silly for the first year, skinny and awkward, until the honeysuckle vine came upon it just about the time it was running out of something to cling to and eventually a china berry vine joined the fun at the other end.

By the end of year two it all began to pull together

Now, year three, it's at its peak when the honeysuckle is in full bloom and later the China Berries will take over with their porcelain-like white berries with a tinge of purple.

Sadly, the junk man retired and no one took his place. It's still a mystery to me where all the junk disappeared to from his yard.

Perhaps he did me a favor--mine is a small garden and I am running out of space to add anything. The only way to go now is up and I'm thinking about that.

Fluffing and Folding Time

2011-07-07T15:46:00.009-04:00

I intended that the small front porch to show off a few shade-loving plants in the urns. turns out there's a surplus of shade-lovers so they all mass together where there is the most shade in the day.

The under-the-window planter never thrived when I inserted the sold-at-the-nursery-coconut fiber inserts. They dried out fast and the plants never looked good.
My daughter hit on the idea of using burlap and hers looked fine. Mine looks strange. Perhaps if I add a thin layer of sphagnum moss where the burlap shows and all will be well.
Also, I bought the geraniums in the spring when they were all leaves, and the label said they were all reds. it turned out to be a nice surprise.

So you're thinking "so what?" to a picture of a composter. Until #1 son dropped by to hack the tree back and add stepping stones, it was hard going to get the compost to its destination.
Now it works tickety-boo.
Thank you #1.