Saturday, March 01, 2008

I trudge the wheelbarrow down the garden path, peering over the pile of dried stalks, ubiquitous cutch grass and various invasive roots that travel the underground garden subway. I calculate the height of the pile to reach the proverbial elephant's eye, - at least...... and a large elephant at that... I like that word "ubiquitious" as it pertains to cutch grass, - the SOUND of it seems so relevant to its sly and pushy ways. Ubiquitous, ubiquitous, I mutter, as I prepare to do battle.

These underground travelers I speak of have set up way stations where from they make an ascent to the daylight and the sunshine. For some reason the Yarrow seems to have business wherever the Iris have established themselves, and send emissaries. I look with dismay at the leafy spikes that are pushing their way up through the corms.

The glowing orange lanterns of the Physalis brighten an autumn day, but they too are rampant in their travel habits, and I swear that given time they could turn up half a mile away, - laying their own tracks three feet below as they go!

They must cultivate the Wild Buttercup as traveling companions. They arrived in the New Garden with the Japanese Peony, and before that they journeyed from #2 Son's Penticton garden. In my zeal to dig up the Buttercups I forgot about the Peony, and had to quickly replant their roots with the long ghostly shoots that had been reaching for the sun.

I search in vain for the first Violet, - in the Lost Garden they would be opening their tightly clustered buds under the old apricot tree, amid the lawn and the little apricot seedlings. The Hellebores are the only flowers in bloom, here in the new garden, but I note the golden promise along the branches of the Forsythia, and the shiny stubs of spring bulbs.

It is a soft and tender day, - I am wondering if I can seduce Husband into going for a drive to see what is happening at Ginty's Pond........

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

I have been browsing tonight, - cropping the clover in other people's pastures.....and what an intriguing experience it's been.

The awe and the wonder of being able to do this never completely leaves me....

I get lost in the blogs of young Welsh women, and am transported to the countryside of Thomas Firbank and the mountain passes of his early sheep farm. I am taken back in memory to the days of being a young mother, living in the country. And I am beguiled by the changing mores, and yet reminded that in most cases "the more things change the more they remain the same". It is so easy to relate....

I move on to an hilarious blog entitled Pigs in the Kitchen .

The humour makes me smile, - the writing makes me green with envy... A Machiavellian sense of creativity that raises eyebrows and inspires a chuckle or two. Wonderful recipes tagged on at the end, as well, for those of you who are still eating heartily and not trying to lose the stray ten pounds that has attached itself to one's waistline. (as well as other places)

The trail of blogs leads me on and on, - learning new things, absorbing new attitudes, inspired by new ideas, new writings, lists of books, - and being thoroughly entertained.

Time now for the evening stroll with the little dog, - the day has been cloudy, but mild and I expect our little trot down the road will find the evening the same. I will sniff the air for Spring.......ever hopeful.

Sunday, February 24, 2008

Being somewhat in a state of flux, and finding it difficult to articulate my feelings, my desires and the direction I mean to take, here instead are a few pictures of the valley as it advances (slowly) into Spring.
The neighbour's soft fruit trees, as the sap rises and the sun clears the eastern hills, enveloping the little orchard in a rosy haze.
And simultaneously K mountain is touched by the same light of the rising sun.
A little earlier, as Caspar and I took our morning stroll, we captured the gnarled apple trees against a bank of colourful clouds.
A mid afternoon shot of the sun, shining through a cloud and catching a ridge across the Valley.

And in the house, the forsythia twigs have burst forth in golden bloom....fair are the bulbs poking up their shiny little leaves amongst the old dried stalks from last fall.
The creek, in early spring, still cosseted by the faded grasses of autumn. Life holds great promise.....