Friday, July 04, 2014

A Summertime Potpouri of Days

We have settled nicely into summer, here in the Similkameen.

I had thought that I might take a little trip down to Ginty's Pond this morning, to see if the lilies are in bloom
and hopefully to catch sight of the turtles sunning themselves on the big log....

However, an  'emergency' meeting of the Museum Executive was called and so I must pop next door to Doreen's and take minutes - I see through my kitchen window that her trumpet vine is just coming into bloom, - a good opportunity to get close to those gorgeous golden blooms.....

There will be another day for Ginty's Pond, - you will perhaps remember what it looks like early in the day; somnolent and heavy with greenery and shadows, the mallards floating purposefully along the edge and the dragonflies darting hither and yon.  If you are lucky you might get a glimpse of the raccoon family that lives in the shrubs at the far end.

These days mornings find me out in the garden with the first cup of coffee;  all is still and quiet and I sit for a bit, relaxing into the day ahead, listening to the chittering of the early morning gossipers at the bird feeder and delighting in the baby quail, picking at the gravel in the lane.

I have had a lovely spate of company during the last few weeks, - family on early summer trips and some who came to say goodbye to a dear grandmother (whose service I mentioned in a previous post).  And I have the promise of a summer trip to the Chilcotin meadow to visit dear ones there, which I have committed to.  I find that as I grow older committing myself to leaving home, even for a few days, is rather a tenuous affair - it is such a temptation to give in to the comfort of home rather than the lively adventure of travel, - new sights and places I would love to be, and see.  I think I am living in the wrong century - I would like the 'beam me up, Scottie' type of travel, - popping in for a little while and then home to the comfort of my own bed and routine.

I am so pleased with Blogger this morning, - for the past few weeks I have not being able to access my dashboard or create a new post, and have had to rely on Windows Live Writer but today Blogger is being very agreeable and has allowed me full access.  It is the vagaries of this technical way of life that keep me keen as I search for detours around all the detritus that suddenly appears when all seems to be going smoothly.

Well now, time is flying by and I must go and ready myself for this morning's activities - these 'emergency\ meetings always end up with coffee and lovely chats and Doreen has a beautiful garden.

Life is good, - not as good as it once was, but good!

Tuesday, July 01, 2014

Y is for William Butler YEATS


ABC Wednesday

July 2nd, 2014

The letter is Y, for William Butler YEATS


Born in Dublin in June of 1865 William Butler Yeats was a member of the Protestant Anglo-Irish minority that controlled much of Irish economics.

Despite spending the first fourteen years of his life in England he was a fervent Irish patriot.

Many of his poems were about Irish legends, folklore and ballads, and he was very much inclined towards the Occult, being, with his wife, a member of the ‘Golden Dawn’, a society of mysticism and occult symbolism.

Yeats is considered one of the greatest poets of his century, and here is one of his famous poems based on the Irish legend  of Diarmuid and Grania, two lovers frustrated and destroyed by the machinations of the Irish Finn.  Lovely imagery.

A Faery Song

(Sung by the people of Faery over Diarmuid and Grania in their bridal sleep under a Cromlech)

We who are old, old and gay,

O so old!

Thousands of years, thousands of years,

If all were told;

Give to these children, new from the world,

Silence and love;

And the long dew-dropping hours of the night,

And the stars above:

Give to these children, new from the world,

Rest far from men.

Is anything better, anything better?

Tell us it then:

Us who are old, old and gay.

O, so old!

Thousands of years, thousands of years,

If all were told.

Faery Song

William Butler Yeats

For more interesting Ys visit here at ABC Wednesday, with thanks to Denise, Roger and helpers.

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Week’s End


A busy week, dotted here and there with joy and a little sadness.   Bittersweet, but pleasure and solace in the garden, which is a good place to start.

A typically beautiful June.  A few days of gentle rain but other long, long days of sunshine, full of roses and late spring flowers. 


and now the bee Balm and the yellow daisies speak of the beginning of summer – the coreopsis itself good for the long haul through July and August and into fall.  The Lilies form long, pregnant tubes which eventually peel into elegant pastel petals and the lovely perennial/ heritage sweetpeas that have bloomed in Finch gardens for almost a hundred years climb higher and higher on the side fence and mark this year once again with pink and white stalks.


We have a glorious summery welcome at the front gate, reflected in the SUV parked in the driveway.        


and in the back the tiger lilies brighten up a far corner at the bottom of the garden.


all is well in the garden, but I must show you the showpiece in the back, – a dahlia which is growing ever skyward and blooming above the eaves, – along with the massive pumpkin, squash and tomato plants competing with the soon to blossom sun flowers.


and the first peachy/apricot coloured raspberries that make breakfast such a treat.

Well, gardening is not the only thing I have done all week.  I baked two ‘slices’ for a funeral reception, and on Friday I acted as church sexton/verger/beadle in preparation for the memorial service and reception for a dear friend, -  and then played the organ.  Lovely music for the hymns and everybody KNEW them and SANG them – In the Garden, Beyond the Sunset and Amazing Grace!  A real treat when everybody sings! 

I was pleased but exhausted when the day was done – especially pleased as this dear friend and I shared two grandchildren who come from afar and who I don’t often see.  Wonderful hugs and conversation all around.

The day before a son and DIL from the Chilcotin  meadow country arrived at my door and besides the pleasure of their company they have knelt under my computer desk where dwells the tower, and where I can kneel but can’t get back up and have vacuumed up all the accumulation of dust that was causing my PC great distress.

AND removed a flat headed tack that had fallen into my printer and caused it such agonies in the rear tray it refused to slip the paper through to print any pictures!!!  I am eternally grateful for this as I looked on the purchase of a new printer with some horror!

Now, as the week ends, the town gets ready to celebrate Canada Day on the First of July and I have good memories of Charles and David raising the flag two years ago, and a lovely picture of Charles, coming through the side gate as we were going to the celebrations and the eagles that flew overhead..

068 (2)


Charles and David flag



Charles gatecart