Inside Outside













Inside all is warm and cosy. The winter flowers bloom extravagantly - note the new amaryllis.













And the geraniums are happy in their winter abode, flourishing in the big bathroom.














The dog and the cat are learning to be comfortable with each other, and sometimes even show signs of enjoying each other's company.

The only time the dog gets upset is if Husband and I should discuss too loudly, when he trots off down the hallway and pees on the bedroom door jamb. Not good for the carpet, but he is old and precious and we indulge him without too much scolding. I am grateful for the Barefoot Lass's carpet tips on cleaning up after pets, though.







Outside it is a different story. The hills glisten with icy snow and it is cold and frosty. The yard is a skating rink, - Husband has furnished old boots with pointed screws that dig into the ice and make walking less of a hazard.

When the sun shines and the sky is blue I am caught up with the memories of prairie winters, but alas, it is more often overcast and cloudy here. And besides, sixty years has passed since those winters when I had a passion for skating and never noticed how cold it was.

The blood runs thinner now, - the legs are not as limber, and the joints complain about the frosty weather. The imaginations runs to spring days; melting snow and thawing ice; bulbs breaking through the ground and the Lenten roses pushing up their little stubs of bloom.

I am incredulous when I hear the fear mongers declare this the warmest winter ever in southern Canada, - we are ten miles from the USA border, and cannot get too much further south. We cannot get too many degrees colder, either, without it being a grave danger to the fruit buds and the vinyards in this valley.

Off on a little tangent --- I have heard it said that Climate Control and Global Warming is the new religion, - one never knows what is going to come along to fill a vacuum!!!

"In nature there are neither rewards nor punishments -- there are
consequences.-- "
Robert G. Ingersoll

Does this apply only to Nature?

It seems to me that this is one of the basic tenets of life, and that many of the problems that face us today are because people refuse to face up to the consequences of their actions.

I remember when one of our granddaughters was very young, but nevertheless very observant about life's rules, the results of one of her childish choices was not to her liking. She sighed and complained to her Grandfather that "she had made the wrong decision!" I can only hope that her realization of the consequences of making the wrong decision will accompany her throughout her lifetime..... If she still recognizes that the "wrong decision" results in unhappy consequences it will not be because the mores of present day society teach her that truth.

We seem to be sliding down the slippery slope that leads to a denial of personal responsibility for our actions. A google on "suing" will bring up a baffling array of petty law suits, all of them launched in an effort to lay the blame elsewhere, and profit from it. Does anybody "suck it up" when they trip and skin their knee, or spill a cup of hot coffee on themselves, or choose to do something that puts their life in danger and suffer an injury? How many organizations have had to curtail good events because the cost of liability insurance has risen so dramatically that they cannot afford to protect themselves against being sued? How many community buildings have had to raise their rents to accommodate outrageous liability insurance premiums, and thus made it impossible for non profit organizations to use their facilities? This year our Diocese requires that anybody who volunteers in any way to assist in the maintenance or operation of a church must be insured, - except those volunteers between 75 and 80, for whom they must pay extra to obtain insurance. Even the Altar Guild ladies!!! And for those volunteers over 80 there is no insurance.

Never mind, - that is the generation who early on learned to "suck it up" during a depression and a world war!!

Where did we turn the corner into never-never land where the Nanny State assumed they could do a better job of educating and caring for our toddlers than their parents?
When did we abdicate responsibilities for what happens on our own personal road through life and start leaning on the State for cradle to grave support? What have we lost in integrity and strength of character by letting responsibility for our own actions slip from us? How have we been robbed of these virtues by a State that assumes itself to be all powerful in controlling the lives of its citizens?

When I discuss this situation with Husband he grows somewhat irate and blames it on the liberal coutenance of our society - and of course I believe he is right. We have the Great Charter of Rights, not the Charter of Rights and RESPONSIBILITIES. How does civilization survive without those twin requirements of a sane and practical world. The Charter has hoodwinked us into a perpetual state of childish dependency, and a petulant attitude that the world owes us a living, resulting in a tragic loss of pride and initiative.

It has stolen the virtues of personal charity and stewardship from us - organized it and put it in the hands of Government and Unions. Who can volunteer now if it offends a Union? Who can go and read to an aged person in a Care Facility without having a police check?

Oh, heavy, heavy stuff - and inclined to make one morose so close to bedtime.

Here is a picture of Missy, who leads an independent life, and enchants us all.....














And here is a picture from the deck of a beautiful sky, which is the consequence of the sun rising over God's world! Each and every morning....

Winter, a lingering season, is a time to gather golden moments,
embark upon a sentimental journey, and enjoy every idle hour.
- John Boswell









Today I was able to capture a picture of the birds that gather for warmth and sustenance in snow covered yards, fields and orchards.

We have a brave troop of quail that delight in the bounty of summer, and follow the trail of seeds in the winter with diligence, hope and an almost military orderliness.. Here they are, scavenging beneath the bird feeder where the small wild birds have spilled seed on to the icy snow the surrounds the apple trees in the back yard.

One of their favourite route marches is a single file encirclement of the fence that surrounds the garden and upon which we grew scarlet runners this year, in a dense mass. I watch them through the lacy vines as they pass, one by one, - and above them the look-out on the fence keeps a sharp eye out for stealthy neighbouring cats, or circling hawks.

Out here in the country there are tangled vines and piles of prunings which provide shelter. Along our driveway, and around the house the quail pick at the gravel and small stones, so this is where we scatter seed to make their foraging extra rewarding.


The amaryllis today, - four beautiful blooms and a companion stem reaching the blossoming stage.

A little lull in the bitter cold of winter has given us two lovely sunny days. They bring back memories of winters on the prairies when I was a child, and the sun shone brilliantly in a bright, blue sky. And the touch of cold stirred my young blood into the most delightful activities, - walking in the snow, skating on the nearby rink, skiing and sleighing on the golf course hills in Edmonton.

Winter is not as delightful as it once was, but I can still enjoy these sunny days, and the flowers that live in our house while snow blankets the garden.

The amaryllis was slow in blooming, and missed Christmas by a few days. But the paper whites have been enjoying the light and coolness in the big bathroom for a couple of weeks, - so much so that I hate to move them out from where they are evidently luxuriating. The kitten and I enjoy their fragrance whenever the spirit moves us to visit.

The First Day of the Year 2007

And an indolent day it was, - scandalously so!

Lolling around, knitting a bit, dozing a little, browsing a smidgin in the current Christmas books, and organizing some inspirational reading for the year. The really serious resolutions have not yet kicked in, and I am content that the days should pass in pleasant retrospect for a little while yet.

Not so with Husband.....he is champing at the bit and getting himself all fussed up with the constraints the weather is putting upon his outdoor activities. Hard to ignore the mood this puts upon him, and it is enough to make me yearn for a little sunshine and mild weather.

The Christmas/New Year celebrations are passing into memory, and the Time of Birthdays is upon us!!! Six family members, and three good friends!!! Eliot brands April the Cruel month, but methinks it more the month of Romance and Passion.

Our Grandson, David, had a spectacular celebration of his 19th birthday on New Year's Eve - his coming of Bar age, at least! A great bonfire of the year's prunings, - music and family and friends.

Tomorrow I will observe my 82nd birthday - not too closely! At 82 it is best to let birthdays just slip into oblivion, and perhaps their effects will not be too blatant...... I know all the quips about having earned each line and wrinkle, but it is more the weak joints, the creaking knees and the general diminishment of energy that plagues me about the passing years. I try to keep the enthusiasms at a high level, and occasionally I read over the Words of Wisdom posted on my Fridge door.

"LORD, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everybody's affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end.

Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my aches and pains. They are increasing and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of others' pains, but help me to endure them with patience.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility and a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a Saint - some of them are so hard to live with - but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And, give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so. AMEN "



Even the act of re-typing this strengtens my resolve to face the future with courage and with the most sweetness of spirit that I can manage to dredge up!!!!

In the meantime I wait patiently for the January spirit of resolve to fall upon me and get me stirring......the only thought for the future that has so far come upon me is that I should practise Scott Joplin each day until I regain some proficiency with his music, - it brings such pleasure to both Husband and I.

Here is Miss Roo in September, 2005. With a bell around her neck so that we could discourage her wandering spirit that yearned for "home" and the Lost Garden.


















And here is Missy, sitting in the same window, but looking in, instead of out! Methinks that portends good things, and she will hopefully be a stay at home cat.














Today Missy and Caspar had their first skirmish. He is being amazingly patient, but she became just a little too familiar when she decided to sniff his leg! Indeed, - decidedly too familiar. I had thought it would have been his waving tail that would initiate the first stand-off, if she should decide to bat at it with her little paw. Not so - and I'm afraid we have lost some ground in the friendship game.

All this happened later in the morning, but first thing, just after getting up, here is the spectacular sunrise that kept us outside in the cold wind, taking pictures and marvelling at the fiery beauty.

























Eventually the colours faded to a soft gold, and so began the day!

Somebody new has taken up residence, with headquarters in the Big Bathroom.




But she has quickly taken to roaming the rest of the house....




and capturing hearts right and left!!




When I first heard that David, our grandson, was wondering if we were ready for another kitten yet, the pain I felt at losing Miss Roo last spring twinged in my mind and behind my eyes.

When Christmas passed and no kitten arrived on the doorstep I thought an awkward moment had been avoided.

But when David and Missy arrived on Boxing Day I knew that he was wise, and I was beguiled by this little miniature image of Miss Roo, - friendly and sweet and full of adventure. When she first met Caspar I venture to say that she was the "spitting" imagine of Miss Roo, but after two days they are becoming comfortable with each other.

Any objection Husband might have had to another little animal around the house was immediately overcome by his soft and tender heart for all things small and vulnerable.

So we start our days with Missy - the only name she has so far, and perhaps that is the one she will end up with.

Thank you David!!

P.S. A wee, tiny, fragile kitten has inspired Husband to remember to put down the lid of the toilet in his bathroom. UP UP with MISSY!!!!!

In Praise of Boxing Day

This morning I had occasion to look into the kitchen pantry with my eyes wide open - my "housekeeping eyes" that is! I viewed the carnage that seemed to take place silently in this little catch-all in the days before Christmas, and mentally made a note of priority regarding restoring order.

But Not Today - Today is Boxing Day.

The day that I understand arose from the practise of taking boxes of food and essentials to the poor who lived on the estates of the rich.

When I was a child the day was devoted to visiting friends, - a continual round. I never figured out how it was determined who was to travel and who was to stay home to receive the travelers with good cheer and the traditional grog.

Then there was the practice of using up the left-over turkey to continue the celebration with those who weren't present for the actual Christmas Dinner.

And in the days when Christmas Parties were de riguer, Boxing Day was a favourite to gather all friends together for a "cocktail" and an exchange of Christmas stories.

Most recently Box Day has degenerated into an economic frenzy, and I could say more about this aspect of the secular take-over of a Christian religious celebration, - but that is a subject for another Blog.

But none of these things happen in this House. And not at this time......

Since the mellowing advance of age, this is a pictorial view of how Boxing Day is preferably spent around these parts! Not that friends aren't welcome, but in between times snoozes are delectable and to be indulged in along with left-over turkey and plates of sweets.




The Master and the Dog. And the blog person is about to go and make a quick turkey sandwich before falling on to the couch to join the slumberers.....

The days draw in as we reach The Birthday Celebration.

Already the shortest day in the year has come and gone, and if one had time to ponder the future surely the prospects of February, March and April would rouse one's gardening spirits.

However, here we are in the midst of busy and blessed days.

And I find I am not as swift as I once was. In my effort to stay calm and serene during Advent days I have reluctantly relegated some of the Christmas traditions to the Once-upon-a-time-we-used-to Era.

There are no mince tarts in the pantry. None in the freezer, either...... The outside lights are simple - no elaborate displays of stars or fancy strings of lights along the fence and through the garden.

All the myriad pieces of silver we received for wedding presents lie tarnished as the elves who used to clean them grew up and go about their own fascinating teen-age business. This will be a down to earth Christmas, - lacking in elegance, but not in joy or in a grand feast.

Despite having to play at two church services Christmas Eve we will have a modified family drop in Christmas Eve gathering supper, - Oyster Stew for those who grew up loving it, - Chili and Ham and buns for those who entered the family not knowing of this exotic tradition, and not prepared to do more than sip a little oyster broth and try to look as if they were enjoying it!!

The morning sun comes up on intermittent days, and glorifies the skies where the clouds linger over the mountain tops. On other days the clouds hang low, but the air is milder and the wind is still.



All the parcels and letters and cards have been sent away, and the most intriguing boxes surround the Christmas Tree in return.

Nicky and David, - our family who are too far away to spend Christmas with us physically, have once again made donations of various farmyard animals in the names of the family, through World Vision, and it inspires me to do the same next year (God willing!!)

The world is too much with us; late and soon,
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers;



William Wordworth, in his time, bewailed the lack of simplicity and the loss of the core of spiritual life as we spend our energies accumulating stuff and as a consequence keeping our head to the ground, our shoulder to the wheel, our nose to the grindstone - while above the stars shine brightly and unheeded.

Ah, I am sinking into the philosophical mode and I think it is time to take up my knitting and ponder the ways of the world in a meditative mood.

All the time wishing Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men, a joyous Christmas, and the spirit of love pervading the whole wide world.

How beautiful the march of days
as seasons come and go.
The hand that shaped the rose has wrought
the crystal of the snow.














Has sent the silvery frost of heaven,
the flowing waters sealed
and laid a silent loveliness
on hill and wood and field.














O'er white expanses sparkling pure
the radiant morns unfold,
the solemn spendours of the night
burn brighter through the cold.

























Life mounts in every throbbing vein.
Love deepens round the hearth
and clearer sounds the angel hymn,
goodwill to all on earth.


Francis Whitmarsh Wile

I keep these words in my heart as
the beautiful days march on to Christmas
and I busy myself with parcels and
letters and baking and music and
love of the season.

Taking a Toll of the Bell Choir










Well, actually we aren't the tolling kind of Bell Choir, - we are an English Handbell Choir. Nonetheless, we are wondering for whom the bell tolls as illness "takes its toll" and we have had to cancel all the Christmas events we planned and practised for.

We made this decision tonight, and I was caught in a mix of emotions. Sympathy for those who are ill; a little sadness for those who have looked forward to our concerts at this special time of year; but also a small and secret sigh of relief as I struggle with efforts to simplify Christmas celebrations.

This is not an easy thing to do! I yearn for a quiet December in which to prepare for The Birthday. It would be nice to recognize Advent for what it is, - a time of quietness and reflection, and yes, preparation. But not the frenzied preparation we seem to start earlier and earlier. Not the demands on our time and our budget that we inevitably seem to yield to.

Even the loving preparations, - the baking, the shopping, the plans for gift giving and for entertaining family and friends, the Christmas letters, the bazaars and the Christmas bake sales and teas...they all take their Toll (there we are, back to that word again)

However, this will be my 61st year as a wife and mother - she who is responsible for all the Christmas traditions and the aforementioned busyness. I scan my Christmas cook books for easy and simple ways to cut down, and all the traditional baking recipes jump off the page and pull at my sleeve. (or is that my heart)? How can we do without butter or mince tarts, - or lemon curd and shortbread. What about hard sauce and toasted almonds, and sausage rolls and oyster stew!!!!

And not put up a Christmas tree, or all the treasured wreaths and ornaments from years gone by?

It is a dilemna - one that calls for stern discipline and an unemotional approach.

Not sure I'm up to it!

Wintry Weather



The weathermen - and the TV weather girls, - rumoured the imminent arrival of wintry weather well before it finally arrived.

The first morning we woke to snow the Johnny-jump-ups were sheltered under the remnants of the fall mums.

All around the hills were blanketed, but the clouds were still light and bouyant.













The garden looked gentler than it has during the past weeks, when the dry stalks of faded summer flowers and plants gave a sad atmosphere of neglect.













Meanwhile, back in the house where it's warm and cosy, Caspar the dog, inspects with interest the process of cutting vitamin D pills in half, and discovers that the noise that snaps and sends him woofing down the hall is really not so bad when he understands the operation!!!












Tomorrow we brave the wintry weather to go and pay our respects to the doctor and enter the fray as we start Christmas shopping venture.

Putting the garden to Bed

The sun shone brightly this morning and one would not have given credence to the dire weather report that is currently being touted for the week-end.

However, experience has made me aware of how temperatures can plummett, especially when the skies are clear and brilliantly blue, and the snow on the mountains is glistening in the sunlight. So as the temperature rose this morning, so did my gardening spirits.

I went out and tidied up all the pots and pathways, snipped back the long stems on the roses, admired the few violets that have mistaken the mild weather for spring, and even a little clump of johny jump-ups. The allysum, which grew abundantly and kept the garden sweetly scented all summer, made a wonderful addition to the compost pile.

While I worked I was heartened by the sounds of the young fellows installing the new garage doors. They were young, and full of vim and vigor. And competent as well!

Not ever having had a garage before, - let alone one with doors that open and close automatically, - we are luxuriating in this up-town addition to our lives. And Husband looks forward to finally having a place where he can go and tinker and fix things. I am happy for him, although he is still welcome at the breakfast nook table when the weather is bad. At least by me, - Caspar, the dog, is another story. His sensitive ears disturb him greatly when Husband makes any sharp noises. Even the three hole punch causes him to retreat along the hallway, woofing in distress. After thirteen years of doggie loyalty he has a fair amount of influence about what goes on. Who'd a thought it!!!! What next, I wonder...

I have been sorting through pictures with my final goal to put them into albums and pass them out amongst the family. I am amazed at how many snaps of faithful canine friends I find in the boxes of pictures. We have never been without dogs, since the first Doberman Pincer we were given for a wedding present over 61 years ago. Mostly wonderfully intelligent Border Collies who worked with the Sheep and were dearly beloved by the Shepherd. May the grass grow sweet o'er the spots where they lie sleeping.

The Church Bazaar

Here are a few pictures from the Church Bazaar, setting up for the big day, all the hurly burly of the selling tables and the friendly chat over tea and the ladies' scrumptious dessert.

The Bazaar is a well loved and well attended tradition in the community. In that it draws people to help who look upon the church as "their own", even though they don't attend or support in any other way, it is a form of mission into the communityl And one that is hard to give up.

After a fifty year run its future is considered year by year, but the congregation is loathe to abandon it. Nature hates a vacumn - what might replace it?????














Dessert was delicious, wonderful time was had by all, - but at the end of the day I wondered if there wasn't some little niche I could fill that didn't require so much work!!!

Remembrance Day was observed with due respect and loving memories. The Day has passed, but the memories are eternal.

Life turns over so quickly, - we are now into busy Bazaar times, at the same time we cope with shifts at the Bargain Centre, (the church's mission outreach). A traditional event, the Bazaar is part of the vitality of the Church and the Community, in cooperation. As is the Bargain Centre.

I muse about this cooperation in the secular society that has evolved in the last forty years, and am grateful that the spirit lives on in many non-church-goers, as much as it does in those who gather to worship and keep the church alive.

The congregational members of the church age, and we lose them, one by one. The few young people who are still part of the parish have found other places to put their energies, - all of them of the utmost value.

If I go back fifty years and remember the Evening Branch of the ACW, - all young women with young families, and full of young ideas - I have a better perspective of what keeps the young people of the Parish from participating in this "old ladies" endeavor.

We weren't old ladies then, - we were young and full of new ideas, vast stores of energy and enthusiasm. When "Rummage Sales" outgrew the small parish hall we looked for a place to store and sort and make these sales available to the community on a weekly basis. It was a lark, and great fun! It contributed to a growing friendship amongst the members, and established the Bargain Centre in the community as a place of outreach and help. We moved around from spot to spot as the enterprise expanded and required more room. In the meantime we grew middle-aged, - still having fun and making inroads into an ever growing mission in the community, - providing clothes and household needs at bargain prices from donations that arrived with generous abandon.

When the Anglican and United Churches came together to form an ecumenical parish the United Church parish hall was made available to us, and we grew by leaps and bounds.

And when the secular world had made sufficient inroads into the church family, so that church givings were not large enough to enable us to maintain a full time minister, then the Bargain Centre and the Community who supported it, helped in meeting these expenses. And everybody profited, - where there is a church there is a sense of spiritual stability, even to those who have lapsed. In this community there are people who refer to the church as "our church" even though they have not been inside it's doors for any reason except a baptism, a wedding or a funeral.

Ah, but alas, - now the original members who started with such enthusiasm, have grown old. The spirit is still willing, and the friendships which have been forged are strong and true. But oh, the flesh is weak, and so we value and appreciate all the younger people who come from the community to assist us in our Bargain Boutique.

Next month we will take them all out for a Christmas Lunch, - but our true thanks lies in our grateful response to their help, week by week. It is a wonderful example of friendship and cooperation between Church and Community that strengthens the bonds that tie us together.

I'm off to knit another scarf for the handicraft table at the Bazaar!!