Y for Yanni

ABC Wednesday
June 28th, 2017

The letter is Y for Yanni

A Greek musician

known and admired for his synthesized music

which has been described as 

"a kind of peaceful easy-feeling link

between pop music and classical music".

A video from his concert in the Acropolis...

(The Storm / Vivaldi)

a fitting place

for a Greek Musician, although

Yanni emphasizes the world-wide

aspect of his music.

And another,  which I like very much

The Rain Must Fall

More Ys here at ABC Wednesday

with thanks to those who

maintain this great meme.

X for eXhaustion

ABC Wednesday
June 21st, 2017

The letter is X for eXhaustion

The cure for eXhaustion

Sometimes exhausted

with toil and endeavour,

I wish I could sleep

for ever and ever.

But then this reflection

my longing allays

I shall be doing it

one of these days

Piet Hein

More Xs here at ABC Wednesday

with thanks to those who so

eXcellently maintain this

eXtraordinary meme

This and that as I weave away!

June 17th, 2017

A nice day for weaving....

Here are a couple of scarves I wove after being inspired by Jane Stafford and her tips on balanced weaves.  They are awaiting hemming!

But on this one I cheated - it has a nice long fringe - no hemming required

These scarves are woven with a 20/2 silk, remnants of past weavings.

I am using up my stash.  For two reasons....

The hopeful one is that I will replace it with new threads and go on weaving

forever and ever..

The other reason is that I don't want any of my children

shaking their head, rolling their eyes

and commenting on parents and their accumulations!

When the time comes...

With this in mind I have been gathering up my containers of wool,

sorting them into piles and colours,

or sometimes jut randomly plying two or three of them together.

Using the Indian Head Spinner, as shown below.

I end up with a lovely variegated warp

which I put on the loom

beamed, threaded, sleyed and tied

and then woven gently with a thinner weft.

Down in the lower left corner Callie sits on the throw

as it comes off the loom..

ah, but when water and washing

does its magic...

This cosy blanket hangs on the back of my chair

to keep Callie and I warm while we snuggle and read.

I am now on my second one

and intend to keep going until all those leftovers have been morphed

into something that will light up the children's eyes!

In the meantime our youngest son, on a trip down

from the Chilcotin,

very kindly put together my Countermarche, in the garage.

Here he is puzzling about what goes where and why.

I love him for doing this!

(amongst other reasons)

For the last ten years it has been resting, all in pieces,

because its User (me) couldn't get her

 knees up and down

to tie up treadles.

I have a DIL who is more supple than I and wants to learn to weave

and I'm not going to let THAT opportunity pass by!!!

My children are all so good to me, and sometimes I wonder how

Charles and I had the wisdom to have six of them

to help us in our ancientness!

God bless him this Fathers' Day!!!

W is for Wheelbarrow

ABC Wednesday
June 14th, 2017

The letter is W for Wheelbarrow

A famous poem of imagism by Dr. William Carlos Williams

THE RED WHEELBARROW

So much depends

upon

a red wheel

barrow

glazed with rain

water

beside the white

chickens

More Ws here at ABC Wednesday

with thanks to all who maintain this

interesting and captivating meme

V is for Veritable

ABC Wednesday
June 7th, 2017
The letter is V for Veritable

I have chosen this word for V because I find it has always filled me with such confidence.

How could you not be fond of a word that expresses 

genuine, factual, indubitable, unquestionable, 

authentic, reliable, trustworthy, valid and true.

Would you not say that these

children are listening to

a VERITABLE storyteller?

. . . . . . . . .

On the other side of the coin

the word Veritable holds a little sadness,

reminding me of that last great push

by the Allies in the effort to end

World War Two

Operation Veritable

was the northern part of an Allied Pincer

movement that took place during

the final stages of the war and in which

the Canadian Army played an important part.

My husband's brother was killed here,

in a meadow just across from

the Hochwald Forest.

Such a sad place to die...

a veritable tragedy.

more Vs here at ABC Wednesday. with thanks

to all who maintain this veritably wonderful meme.

June 4th, 2017

An Excerpt from a June, 2007 posting
which only goes to prove that the more things change, the more they stay the same

Despite the devastating things that happen in our lives, the moves we make, the changes in circumstances, still, beneath whatever desolation saddens us there is a core in the way we cope with life that stays the same and carries us through!

Well, I've come to that conclusion, anyway.

In June 2007 I copied that lovely old admonishing William Henry Davies poem that goes thus.....

What is this life if full of care

We have no time to stand and stare?

No time to stand beneath the boughs

And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see when woods we pass

Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see in broad daylight, 

Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at beauty's glance,

And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can

Enrich the smile her eyes began.

A poor life this if full of care

We have no time to stand and stare.

And said, in so many words  "One of the most delightful advantages of aging is an awakening awareness that probably hasn't been felt so strongly since childhood.

Do you rlemember the intense kinship you felt with all of nature when you were a child?  The awe that little things inspired?  A wiggling worm, a taqdpole, the green grass growing and the passion for four leaf clovers?  What a precious affinity we had with GRASS, embracing time in guiltless idleness as we lay on the lawn, imagining shapes in the white clouds of summer.

And the little girls who romanced with the flowers in their mothers' gardens, making princesses our of hollyhocks and sweet heaqds of clover, - all dressed for the ball and Prince Charming.

Now, as age steals busy activity, it leaves in its place the time to recapture some of the awe of childhood.

The 'trailing clouds of glory' that Wordsworth saw surrounding the very young child seems to return to us, and surround us, as we reach the final years.

Some are lucky (or wise) enough to carry the sense of wonder throughout their whole lives, but for others it is a surprise gift, bestowed by a sense of infinity and appreciation".

At this point in 2007 I entered some of the gorgeous flowers 

that grew in the garden Charles and I nurtured in those days. 

Different garden, but yes,

 my time in the garden today was spent amongst the same beauty....

and gave me the same comfort.

I am still stirred by the magic in the early morning garden, 

and have great awe and enthusiasm for the new blooms that surprise me every day. 

 Such a comfort, too.....

From Francis Hodgson Burnett, and the Secret Garden..... 

"and the secret garden bloomed and bloomed, and every morning revealed new miracles".

Coffee is at seven if you would like to join in the back garden,

just down the lane...

Ukulele Part 2

ABC Wednesday
May 31, 2017
The letter is U for Ukulele (part 2)

Well, I'm still having fun!

Loving the Ukulele......

It keeps me company at Breakfast time

when we practice a few chords

and sometimes sing

"Five Foot Two"

which I can play now without having

to look at the music.

Here's a little poem from Sandra Beasley

that has a few words to say about the tranquility

of the Ukulele.

"The vessel is simple - a rowboat among yachts.

No one hides a Tommy gun in its case.

No bluesman runs over his uke in a whiskey rage.

The last of the Hawaiian queens translated the name

gift that came here

while the Portuguese historians translate jumping flea

the way a player's fingers pick and fly.

If you have a cigar box, it'll do.

If you have a fishing line, it'll sing.

If there is to be one instrument of love,

not love vanished or imagined, 

but love, it's this one.

Fit a melody in the crook of your arm and strum."

more Us here at ABC Wednesday
with thanks to those who maintain this meme....
it keeps me blogging....

Tripping in the garden..

ABC Wednesday
May 24th, 2017
The letter is T for TRIPPING

Tripping - 

a pretty big stretch here, but I am late with my post,

 and I have some garden pictures that do delight me,

and so I am going to show you what you see when you go TRIPPING 

 through the garden!!

The latest flower to bloom is the Iris..

It has grown tall, and the buds have been full and pregnant

This morning they were waving in the morning breeze

(a remnant from last night's fierce wind storm)

Just the common variety of Iris, but delicate and lovely all the same....

They join with the  Allium

(leaning up against the neighbour's fence)

and the ubiquitous but sweet ranunculus (buttercup)

that spreads itself throughout the garden

now that the Chinese Lantern Railway has

evidently found the winter too cold for passengers.....

a lovely yellow lily

the early peonies, which have just come into bloom

the lilac

the windflowers

and  the gorgeous quince blossom

The passionate orange poppy down the lane

is about to make our walks

(Bruce's and mine)

a cause to wonder and stand in awe.

here is the pretty pink fairy bell flower

whose proper name I have forgotten...

and the pure white bridal bush

that is now beginning to fade.

Beside it is the single white virginal peony

that blooms so generously

and this year is laden with full, bursting buds

which I will show you soon!

I will now take off the slippers I used for Tripping (no tulips left)

and urge you to visit ABC Wednesday

here with many thanks to all who make this meme possible.

Time, Gardening and a Good Book

Yesterday morning, just after breakfast, I went out into the garden, anticipating a quick look-around to see what magic had happened during the night!  And with every intention of coming back in and making a rhubarb crisp from the stalks I had picked the day before.

However, - my son-in-law came to inquire if this would be a good day to cut back the poor Blaze rose who didn't make it through the winter, and how could I not take advantage of his kind offer.  One thing led to another, - with the dead wood gone I was able to reach all the couch grass that finds its way through the fence from the neighbours yard.  And then there were the saplings that had grown up around the elderberry tree, and the remnants of my potting flowers that needed to find a home in the new bed I had made beside the house......

I stopped for coffee, thinking it must be 'that time' - hobbled into the house (I was hobbling by this time!) and discovered it was twenty minutes past twelve - lunch time!!!!  How time flies when one is in the midst of passion of one kind or another.........

This morning, at five o'clock, my aching muscles muttered at me - "foolish woman, foolish woman" and I couldn't stay in bed a minute longer!!

Today my gardening will consist of a long session in the comfy garden swing, a cup of tea and one of the new books I picked up at the library yesterday.  Over breakfast I glanced at the first few pages of the preface to "The Cloister Walk" by Kathleen Norris, and on the second or third page she talks about time and our perspective of the fleeting quality of life, - enemy or gift?????

Time does not hang heavy on my hands, but it does occupy my mind now that I have come to realize it is not limitless....  And so I will start with this book, which also has another story to it.  In conversation at church last Sunday Kim, our new adventurous minister, asked if I had read Kathleen Norris.  I said 'yes' but not realizing which Kathleen Norris he was referring to.  My Kathleen Norris was a novelist, whose books I read early in my marriage, - but Kim's Kathleen Norris is a poet who writes about religion, meditation  and has a history of being a Presbyterian Oblate to a Benedictine Monastery.  When I realized this I ordered what books I could from the library, and they came immediately.

The lines which drew my attention like a bolt of lightening:---

"Gradually my perspective on time had changed.  In our culture time can seem like an enemy: it chews us up and spits us out with appalling ease.  But the monastic perspective welcomes time as as gift from God, and seeks to put it to good use rather than allowing us to be used up by it.  A friend who was educated by the Benedictines has told me that she owes to them her sanity with regard to time.  "You never really finish anything in life," she says, "and while that's humbling and frustrating it's all right.  The Benedictines, more than any other people I know, insist that there is time in each day for prayer, for work, for study, and for play"  Liturgical time is essentially poetic time, oriented toward process rather than productivity, willing to wait attentively in stillness rather than always pushing to 'get the job done."  (end of quote)

So today I plan to devote my time to an appreciation of what I HAVE done in the garden, 

(though it is not finished) 

and to feeding my soul with an appreciation of what Time I have had,

 and what Time I have left...

and how best to fill these lovely days....

And my aching muscles say 'thank you'!!!!

All they have to do today is hold the book......

Strawberry Pecan Pie

ABC Wednesday
May 17th, 2017

The letter is S for Strawberry Pecan Pie

If it EVER stops raining the Strawberry Season will be upon us

and all the Mums and Cooks and strawberry lovers

will delight in baking this delicious treat!

At least once a year this scrumptious pie in a nutty, buttery shell

is an absolute MUST.

Here is the recipe...

First the Pecan Pastry.

In a bowl combine 1 cup of flour, a quarter cup of brown sugar

and a half teaspoon of salt.

Cut in one half a cup of butter until the mixture

resembles coarse crumbs....

and then stir in one half a cup of ground pecans!

Beat together 2 tablespoons of icy water and 1 egg yolk

and using a fork stir into the flour mixture until crumbly and  moist

Press into a 10 inch pie plate

Flute the edges and cover and refrigerate for about half an hour.

Meanwhile prepare the filling....(below)

When the half an hour is up

Prick the pastry all over and bake in a 375degree oven for ten minutes.

So, for the filling - puree four cups of strawberries

and in a saucepan combine 1 cup of sugar, one quarter cup of cornstarch

and one half a cup of water, blending well.

Add the pureed berries, bring to a boil stirring constantly, then reduce heat to low 

and cook for one or two minutes until the mixture

is translucent and slightly thickened.

Keep stirring while doing this.

Remove from heat and blend in one tablespoon of butter.

Let cool until lukewarm.

If you want the mixture extra smooth you might press it through a sieve.

Arrange four cups of whole strawberries tips up, in the pastry shell.

Pour in the filling and refrigerate for at least two hours....

Just before serving whip a cup of cream

with two tablespoons of icing sugar and pipe it around the edging....

My image, which I borrowed from Mister Google,
says to KISS THE COOK
and that would be o.k. too!!!

More Ss here at ABC Wednesday with thanks to
all those who make this meme possible!

R for Rubaiyat

ABC Wednesday
May 8th, 2017

The letter is R for The Rubaiyat

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

is the title that

Edward Fitzgerald

gave to his translation of a selection

of poetry originally 

written in Persian

and numbering about a thousand verses

attributed to Omar Khayyam (1048-1131)

a Persian poet, mathematician and astronomer

And here are a few of the lovely verses you will find

in the first few pages of the book.

Lo, some we loved, the loveliest and best

The Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest

Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,

And one by one crept silently to Rest.

Remember that the Moving Finger

does move on ........

and although Omar Khayyam would be

much more passionate about it,

still it is my reason d'etre

for DaybyDay

More Rs here at ABC Wednesday,

with thanks to all who work so diligently

to make this meme so interesting

and widespread.

ABC Wednesday
May 3rd, 2013

The letter is Q, for Quoits

This ancient game 

whose history reaches back to Greek and Roman times

is not as popular as it once was

but in the United Kingdom

(and perhaps elsewhere)

in Scotland, Wales and Yorkshire

there are still Quoit pits

and on a summer's evening  

the music of the quoits

zinging through the air

and the melody as they clash with each other

in the clay pit

still draws rural gentlemen

to the game.

More Qs here at ABC Wednesday

with thanks to all who maintain this meme.

A Tribute

My Favourite Sister-in-Law

When I first met my husband there was a lovely little chemistry going on, so the fact that he had a sister didn't make me love him any more, but it was a definite plus on his side, and she grew dearer as the years went by.....

Wenonah Finch - a beautiful girl, lively and spirited with many of the same interests I had and a sweet, compassionate nature.  She was to play a welcome part in my life, through books and music and family and philosophies.  I looked forward to her letters, all beautifully written (she had her mother's penmanship and her own wonderful way of putting things) and full of news of the little ones, when we both became mothers, - books she was reading, music she was playing, nature, and later on the part she took in publishing the books and paper she and Grant wrote.

She also introduced me to word games - like Hinky Pinky (hinkity-pinkity, etc. etc.) but the very best thing she shared with me was her discovery of Scott Joplin when he became popular again.  I have her to thank for his book of Ragtime, and in the last few years of her brother's life I played The Elite Syncopations, the Peacherine Rag, Solace,  The Maple Leaf Rag or some of his other favourites each morning after breakfast as he got ready for the day,  and invariably I thought of Nonie.





When we were quite young, and while Nonie was still nursing st St. Paul's, -  before she and Grant were married, our first born (Steven) was admitted to St.Paul's with an auricular flutter.

 Granny and I took him down over the Coquihalla when it was just a rail line, and after a few days left him there with Nonie, in pediatrics. Much lighter of heart knowing that someone who loved him was helping to take care of him.

We both had large families,
 so there were cousins by the dozen, and just a few more....

My children, all grown now (Steven is seventy) remember with great affection the visits of the American cousins, all peering out from the top of the camper as they drew into the farmyard.

What an exciting time, - for grown-ups as well as the children.

They roamed the hills, investigated the caves on the hillside, and helped with chores. When they got older some of them came and stayed a few days and formed nice friendships.

They came with water skis and boats,  and one winter they brought a toboggan and had an exciting time in the Fairview Pass.  And I looked forward to those times when Nonie and I could have conversations about life and how it was affecting us......about books we were reading, how we thought about politics and religion (we had lots of ideas to exchange, carefully, having different views on both subjects).

There was Expo when Nonie and Grant came to Vancouver at the same time we were visiting the Perrins, - the BC Centennial, when Charles grew an old fashioned moustache and we did a side trip to Seattle, and I recall vaguely that we spent an evening pub crawling?

Time passed, - the children grew up and away.  We all traveled a little more and increased our memories of lovely visits when Grant and Nonie came back to Seattle and the West.  We took our friends to Mats Mats Bay and enjoyed sharing in the wonderful life they had there, - the boat, the harbour, the music and the conversation.

Nonie took me with her to Turtle Island when she went for a music lesson with Gwendolyn Moore, and on the way she showed me where Betty MacDonald of "Egg and I"fame lived, - the sun shone, we chatted, the music was marvelous and it was another day with Nonie to put away and treasure.

Before you could turn around twice and say Jack Robinson we were all Grandparents!!!

Now when Grant and Nonie traveled it was just the two of them, and the dog,  and Charles and I would go to wherever they were camped close to the border, - sometimes at Chopaka and once, when we were getting quite old and not as mobile as we once were, to a lake, east of the Similkameen,
probably over the border?  Grant took the little boat out (rubber???) while Charles and Nonie chatted on the deck of their cabin and I wandered between the three of them.

All fond memories of a tender family relationship that I learned to cherish.

I keep Wenonah Finch Sharpe's book of poems beside me as I write and am astonished at how beautifully and profoundly they define her, and her life.  And how deeply I relate to them - this interaction with our loved ones.

Nonie's maturity, her compassion, understanding and acceptance speak clearly through her words. Her "Pantoum for Lena" is poignant and heart-breaking, as are all the poems From the First Five Years.  "Irish Air" and "Retreat" bring back many memories  of Granny Finch and how she bore the loss of her two sons in battle.  I love "Sidney at 100", and see his staunch and sturdy figure out in the orchard, at a steady pace, or sitting playing crib with the children when he was with us.

She had a nice mind.  Wonderfully articulate, quick-witted and sensitive to her role as daughter, wife, mother, sister and friend.

To her children who gather to remember and honour her life I send my love and my appreciation of the extraordinary mother you were blest with.  And I know what a blessing you all were to her....