A babe in the house is a well-spring of pleasure,

a messenger of peace and love, a resting place for

innocence on earth,

a link between angels and men. ~ Martin Fraquhar Tupper

This sweet May-morning, And the children are culling
On every side, In a thousand valleys far and wide,
Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm,
And the babe leaps up on his mother's arm:—

I hear, I hear, with joy I hear! Wordsworth Ode to Immortality

And welcome that darling little Blossom Time Babe


with dearest love to Jess and Derek

sweet innocence, trailing clouds of glory....

A Visit to the Nursery

The plant nursery, that is.

A project fraught with a number of emotions. Delight, anticipation, wild abandon, - which leads in its turn to a little guilt, and then a little resentment. The guilt and resentments are personally inflicted and involve in some strange way the physical inability to recreate the old Lost Garden at this stage in our lives.

However, equilibrium is recovered, and resentment banished, and one gets lost in the joys of the search. Did Anna plant the white nicotiania this year, - the kind that is so fragrant on mid summer evenings and attracts the large hummingbird moths. Or will I have to search for seed and quickly get it in the ground. What about Cleome? Sometimes I find it, - sometimes I don't.

In deference to a lack of space and a dirth of extra energy I do not plan to frequent the little shrub department.....well, - maybe a Bridal Wreath as the Spirea I started off with turned out to be two of the tiny variety, when I envision extravagant masses of white froth.

And if I could find a Korean Viburnum I would not be able to turn away from it's delectable fragrance....

There is also a little stealth involved in this expedition. A lady at the Bargain Centre yesterday told me of a woman who, when she found an article of clothing she couldn't do without, would buy two in different colours. One she brought home and showed her husband, - the other she slipped surreptitiously into her closet, hoping it would be lost to the husbandly view of what hangs in ladies' closets. Is there some way I could apply this subterfuge in my dealings at the plant nursery?

Ah, I fear not, - togetherness is too much with us in these advanced years and there is no opportunity to slip the odd plant or two into the garden without its arrival being heralded by stern looks and the odd finger wagging and shakes of the head. Sigh.....

David Harris and Jelani Eddington play Louis Moreau Gottschalk - The Grande Tarantelle




Brilliant music to celebrate the Merry Month of May.......

Potpourri

Early this spring Husband pruned the curly willows, and in the process we snipped a number of pruned branches into small lengths, put them in a pot of water for a while, until they began to shoot, and then into a little nursery row where they developed nice, strong roots.



In an endearing act of faith Husband once again started planting trees. A row of wee curly willows to stretch out down the fence that lines the road to home. Each planted with the expectation that we will be here to watch them grow and mature.....

We are getting the occasional day when the air is warm and pleasant, and the chilly winds don't blow. On those days we come in weary and tired at lunchtime, but full of satisfaction with what has been accomplished.

We have new neighbours across the fence.... Baby, with the white socks and shattered star is not yet a week old. His lovely long legs carry him on little bursts of joyous sprints around the pasture. Mother and Uncle Ducky watch over him carefully and all of them are growing sleek and shiny on the lush green pasture.



Yesterday the day was stormy, and we were ready for a break. We took the day off to do errands and shopping in the "City". Everything went so well, and we got finished so quickly Husband suggested that we might go looking for the often contemplated van to replace the sporty red Grand AM that we have, alas, outgrown. Not enough spring left in the knees to enter and leave jauntily, - just getting out of the car casts a pall of old age.

Here is what we found, and we are thrilled and excited as we step in and slide out of this equally sporty vehicle that accommodates our old bones so nicely.


The countryside is awash in blossoms and burgeoning greenery - tender leaves, filmy catkins, the apples are in the pink and the Ramona tulips open each morning to the sun.A tender memorial.

Husband is setting out the cards - time for Caspar and I to make the evening trek.

Gardening in the Slow Lane....

Or else they simply go to seed........

One thing Husband and I are finding is that it's easy to be mindful of what you are doing, because everything gets accomplished so slowly that you can just put your whole heart and soul into it, and time stretches on and on until it's lunch time, and you think "What a pleasant morning".

Be that as it may we have been messing about in the garden most of the week, and this is what we have accomplished.....

Monday we did some outdoor painting , Two bistro chairs, half a wicker high backed seat, a table and the nice structure husband put together to accommodate the climbing roses and whatever annual vines we plant to hurry along the visioned picture. At 84 one does not plant exclusively for far into the future - immediate gratification is more realistic.

Tuesday we picked rock and loaded up an old freezer and a variety of metal cast-offs to make room for backyard garden plans. Late in the morning I went to pick up a piece of rhubarb root so kindly offered by a friend. While there I admired her friendly accommodations for the neighbourhood birds, and vowed to come home and create a lovely little spot in the garden incorporating her design for bird bath, feeding stations and a couple of green lounging spots in nearby trees.

Here are the three hens and the 'rooster that has come into his own' that share the overflow around the feeding station early in the morning, scratching now in the green orchard grass.

Wednesday Husband went singing and I went out for Lunch with the Ladies.

Today we planted the rhubarb, put the water on the garden and cleared a little strip along the bank by the trailer cum loom room to make a spot for a length of embedded flower seeds in an eight foot length of bio degradable tape. (Which I bought at the Bargain Centre for 50 cents and which I can see being a bright light in the back garden achieved at practically no labour cost. Important aspect of any slow lane gardening venture.)


Nice rhubarb, - looks quite healthy and virile.

What will we do tomorrow?

Oh, we have a long list. and we can choose at our leisure. Whatever we do spring will surely keep up with us. Here are some of the exciting things that are happening in the garden.....

The perennial alyssum that found its way from the garden to the side of the house is now in bloom.


A bevy of spring bulbs - the rich blue of the grape hyacinth making a beautiful foil for the narcissus, the half opened tulip and the red maple buds.



In just a few days it will be apple blossom time, and their sweet fragrance will join the cherries and the peach blossoms in celebrating the season.

Life is good, and satisfying, and there are a myriad of wonderful and mysterious things to see if you amble along in the Slow Lane.

Weather Report

I rise early and grope my way into the bathroom with its frosted windows through which you can't see a blessed thing , and so it is only when I come back into the bedroom that I am surprised and somewhat appalled to see a thin layer of snow on the ground and the valley bathed in misty clouds.

Caspar greets me in the hallway, legs crossed, and so we hurry along for our morning walk, and these are some of the scenes that met our eyes. Well, Caspar doesn't see too well, but he does dearly love great gulps of that fresh snow.....
The daffodils huddled together in wet misery, their sweet little heads bowed down with frosty snow....

but the few brave tulips that have had enough courage to face this cold and windy weather were showing their bright colours.

Over yonder, across the valley, the top of K Mountain was lost in clouds.

#1 son reported that the temperature in Fort McMurray was -18C, and the Guru Grandson was off to move snow from parking lots as per contract. The Apricots in full bloom shivered in the chilling breeze.

By late afternoon the snow had disappeared into the green grass, - only the tops of the Cawston hills were still frosty.



But tonight the full moon is brilliant and cold, and there is no cloud protection. Ah April, - you truly are the cruelest month.....

Today, in The Review, there is a sweet picture of a dozen or so little girls. Some are dressed in striped shirts with a bright kerchief. Sparks perhaps, or Brownies. Some may even be Girl Guides out of uniform.

They are selling Girl Guide cookies, - the kind that has to be hidden from Husband if I am generous and buy a number of packages.

Just a few years ago they would arrive on my doorstep, being very entrepreneurial and driven on their rounds by a parent. And it was a joy to have a little conversation as we carried out our trade. For them a few dollars support, and for Husband and me the chance to enjoy the traditional cookies. Separate the layers - eat the one with icing first......

Longer ago than that Daughter #2 canvassed the neighbourhood with cookies, probably accompanied by another small Brownie, and it was a lark and an adventure.

On Saturday the Keremeos Girl Guides will be selling their Girl Guide cookies at Bob and Ev's Custom Framing on 7th Avenue, across from The Review. Will it be fun for them? Oh, probably, - everything is fun for giggly girls. Will it be an adventure, - will it be a contact with the community, - will they be welcomed into a home that is not often visited by young people - well, sadly not. A bitter commentary on the fear that permeates today's society. And unfortunately with good reason.....

When daughter #2 was first a Brownie she was too young to go to camp unaccompanied, and so I went with her, - helped with the cooking and the crafts and enjoyed myself immensely.

When I was first a Brownie I was too young to be an "Official Brownie" and so I spent the time while everyone else was To Whit to Whooing sitting under the Toadstool in the centre of the circle.

Eventually the months passed and Brown Owl accepted me into the Pack as a Sprite - I still have the badge. Did we wear sporty striped shirts with bright kerchiefs? Alas, - no. Did we learn how to tie knots, and cook at campfires, earn badges and become good citizens, - oh yes...



This picture is ca 1931 - probably taken on the day of my induction. Look at that shiny new brown uniform, - those seductive stockings, held up with garters and always a little baggy at the knees. No slacks for these Brownies..... The HAT - and the scarf, tied just so.

Different times, - simpler times. But we played Run Sheep Run and Kick the Can outdoors in the evenings, unencumbered by fear. We were not exposed to the violence of television, - we read books that stirred the imagination and created pictures in our minds and dreams in our hearts.

I guess on Saturday I will go to Ev's and buy enough Girl Guide Cookies so that I will have some to stash in the freezer. These Older Men who are so attractive to us Older Ladies do not have the temerity of children who will raid the freezer and eat the cookies frozen.....I don't think?

If only for the day, Spring was a welcome visitor around these parts. The temperature rose to +20C, - the warm wind blew gently (until late in the afternoon when it got all pumped up and sent great gusts of warm air across the meadow and through the Valley).

Off to the north west the last vestiges of winter capped Apex mountain...



...here in the Valley the clouds were wispy and spoke of summer. In the south the moon was faint against the brilliant blue of the sky.

The curly willow is a delicate golden filagree at the edge of the garden


and down by the river the leaves were tenderly green on small bushes, whilst the buds on the cottonwood still cast a yellow hue to leaves just partly opened.


Before the tulips appear in their delicate spring colours, Spring clothes herself in ravishing yellows and the daffodils and forsythia are bright and glorious....


The buds on the flowering Almond .....so anxious to add a little pink flavour


and driving past the Lost Garden yesterday I noticed the Star Magnolia and the Forsythia were beginning to bloom.

I carry a little picture of them around in my memory....
and sometimes my heart truly aches for the peace and the happiness that garden brought to our lives.

The weatherman does not have kind words about tomorrow's weather......

The term Internet meme (rhymes with dream) is a neologism used to describe a catchphrase or concept that spreads in a faddish way from person to person via the Internet. (Wikipedia)

A neologism is a word, term, or phrase that has been recently created (or "coined"), often to apply to new concepts, to synthesize pre-existing concepts.......etc.

Dictionary.com is even more specific - a meme is a cultural item that is transmitted by repetition in a manner analogous to the biological transmission of genes.

And now that biology has been mentioned - Memes are the basic building blocks of our minds and culture, in the same way that genes are the basic building blocks of biological life.

According to Richard Dawkins this phenomenon is surely a catalyst in an ongoing cultural revolution.

The subject gets deeper and more fascinating, opening up new avenues of understanding, - but on the lighter side this method of transmitting information can be clever, amusing and creative, as well as intellectually challenging. Great entertainment, as witness the many fun memes that pop up like corked bottles while I am out surfing....

I found a "picture meme" on one of my regular visits to Pie in the Sky, which required that you use pictures from Photobucket to answer pre-set questions. When I visited the available pictures on Photobucket I found I was right out of my generational depth....WOW

Pie in the Sky had remarked on the possibility of creating a meme using pictures you had taken yourself, and that seemed to make the whole project more realistic. She issued a general invitation to participate, and I couldn't resist it...

So here goes.....

1, What is your current relationship status?

2. What is your current mood?What is your favourite band/singer


What kind of pets do you have?
Where do you live?

Where do you work?


What do you look like?

What do you drive?



What did you do last night?



What is your favourite T.V. show?
Describe yourself.



What are you doing tomorrow?


What is your name?


What is your favourite movie?

"Truth to tell," sez Husband, "this business of Memes is somewhat beyond my ken"

And I look at the definitions of memes and acknowledge that they are somewhat ponderous and there is a simpler explanation of the concept.

And so I sez " When millions of people huddle over their computers at night they tell stories and exchange information /misinformation through blogs and memes, surfing and stumbling, and in this way contribute to a vast surge in ideas, contacts and influence. The world becomes a village (somewhat raucous at times) and Marshall McLuhan gives a little sigh of contentment and turns over to sleep another 100 years. The building blocks of the mind accumulate and as we absorb and share on such a grand scale our culture gathers it all in, ferments a little - the world quivers slightly and changes its mores and its ways, - in more ways than one, if you will forgive the play on words.

Memes are the sparks from the campfires of ancient days, and the lingering stories of strangers passing through."

Well, this is what I think.

I am driving home from Bell practice tonight, and off to my right a sliver of a moon is lying on its back balancing what looks like a very large beach ball on her tummy. She is skimming the top of the western hills (probably on her way to a strip of sand in Aussie Land) when she slips from view over the top of the mountain as I make the little rise up to our turn-off.


Too many people away for it to be a very productive Handbell practice, but vigorous and fun as we put our best effort into Early One Morning, A Little Wheel A-turning, and a nice Suite for Bells. The level of proficiency we reach remains the same, but the difficulty of the pieces we attempt changes constantly with the shifting of our group from experienced to beginner. So that we play simple pieces with aplomb, and remember when we could play difficult pieces quite elegantly before our more professional musicians drifted away out of this small community.

This is the Jubilation Handbell Choir from the Baptist Church in Birdsville, - but it could be us just as easily........we are not the Raleigh Ringers (sigh)

Monday evenings are always pleasurable, and the moon tonight was just the icing on the cake.