Gratitude and Satisfaction

Monday, August 27th, 2018

WOW!

What a day!

I woke this morning at six-o-three 

after a fabulous sleep,

and sprang* out of bed

to accommodate the little dog!

What a surprise......

Instead of smoke

I saw blue skies, white clouds, and

the sun just glimmering through

as it rose on the day.

Fresh air flowed through the open window...

The rain bucket was full!

Albeit a small one....

As you can see from the debris floating on top

it has been some time since that

bucket has seen rain water....

June, I think.

Wll it last?

Are we just enjoying the whim of passing air currents?

The fires close by are still burning ferociously...

the smoke is going somewhere?

How lovely not to have it here,

even for a morning!!!

....and I have a warp to beam on

All's right with the world

and the morning's at seven!

*sprang 

definition of this word changes with the years..

definitely it is dependent upon the age of the "sprangee"

I can remember springing out of bed

with the greatest alactricity  (my word)

in the younger years.

Now it is merely a way of expressing oneself

with  delight for the morning, or the greater

need which rouses one to 'spring'.

Light Show

Tuesday, August 21st, 2018

K Mountain - Keremeos, British Columbia

August in the Similkameen has always been a welcome month.

The first two weeks are usually hot, - 

the dog days of August when it would be nice to just lie around in the shade

 if there just weren't so many other things to do.....

The last two weeks were always a gentle preparation for autumn, - 

mostly this was when the summer storms tapered off

 into a quiet few days of rain that re-invigorated the garden 

and brought some relief from the summer heat.

This year has been quite different -
f it weren't for the thirty degree thermometer reading
one would think they were getting by in foggy November,
busy with Christmas preparations.

The smoke has been so bad.

The wildfires in British Columbia have been so horrid and prolific.

In the last few days we have laid claim to our own local excitement
 as the Snowy Mountain fire made its way up from the lower valley
 and crested K Mountain, (which overlooks Keremeos) 

 adding to the dismal curtain of smoke.

But, making up for it by lifting the curtain
 and for a few hours last night
enchanting us with this glittering light show.

Debbie Marten - photographer

This morning, when Callie and Bruce and I rose early,
the curtain had fallen again,
 and the surrounding hills were just a faint shadow,
their outline barely visible.

  

No doubt there were firemen working the flames,
 somewhere behind the smoke,
 but we were once again in the gloom,
confined to in-doors. 

 The garden, crying for attention, but definitely out-of-bounds.

I can't complain, - both looms are busy clacking away as I go from one to the other.......!!!

We are not in any danger, - there is a river and an irrigated meadow

between the town and the flames and K Mountain

is a pretty rocky affair.

 Joe Labeau Hashtag Photography

August

A smokey evening in August

Even as I indulge myself enthusiastically in 'living'

I keep amongst the contemplative books I dip into

(Chris Arthur, John O'Donahue, Thomas Merton)

a book of "Lasting Words" by Claire B. Willis

and in it I came across this poem by Mary Chivers, 

 "Late August"

It's as if we're always preparing

for something, the endless roll of the earth

opening us.

Even on the most tranquil

late August afternoon when heavy heads

of phlox bow in the garden

and the hummingbird sits still for a moment

on the branch of an apple tree -

even on such a day,

evening approaches sooner

than yesterday, and we cannot help

noticing whole families of birds

arrive together in the enclosure,

young blue birds molted a misty grey,

colored through no will of their own

for a journey.

On such an evening

I ache for what I cannot keep - the birds,

the phlox, the late flying bees-

though I would not forbid the frost,

even if I could.  There will be more to love

and lose in what's to come and this too:  desire

to see it clear before it's gone.

And it reminded me that yes, of course,  all life is a preparation

for what's to come next.... and most importantly,

each day, each moment....

the "desire to see it clear before it's gone".

In other words, "Carpe Diem"!!!!

Of peaches and memories....

Monday morning
August 13th, 2018

Here's to the time warp that dwells in the peach,

breathing sweetness and nostalgia in equal parts

as I peel, quarter and dice

at the kitchen sink.

The fragrance of the peach surrounds me,
and the wand of memory emerges....

Suddenly, magically, I am no longer a lady in her nineties!

I am a young wife and mother,

making peach pie for those I love

perhaps a chocolate cake  to go

with a bowl of Red Havens

and a spoonful of ice cream

or canning jars of lusciousness

for winter suppers

while yummy peach jam

bubbles on the stove

or perhaps I am taking the steps of a ladder

up amidst the green leaves of the peach tree

while my hand reaches out  for

a bit of globular heaven

Or I am a mother

coming in from the orchard

hot, and covered in peach fuzz

-- inclined to be a little sharp with the young ones

who impede my way to the shower!!!!

and then we are retired!

regretting the loss of our peach block

but haunting the fruit stands

for a tree-ripened peach

to take home to my loved one

all these lovely memories evoked

by the fragrance of the fruit I hold in my hand.

the magic of time disappears

and I am alone with my peach and my paring knife

and my memories.

grateful for the days that inspire them.

Life is good

The magic of memory 

bewitches me!!

Vichyssoise

Saturday, August 11th, 2018

I woke this morning to a certain lightness in the East, - small patches of blue sky, a few white clouds, and some delicately touched with the coming sun.... lovely!!!!!

Yesterday had been such a dull and oppressive day, - the valley full of heavy smoke from the wildfire down aways,  which they say will not be gone until some time in September. And the steady throb of the four heliocopters. bucketing water from the Similkameen to dump on the advancing fire.......

Doors tightly shut and windows all closed. I bent my head over the loom and wove a bit on the adventuresome black and white placemats I am making for Christmas presents.

and when my back said, sternly, "that will be enough of that" I went to comfort it in the easy chair, whilst I read and looked for culinary inspiration that made "meals for one" look attractive.

Soups are good for lunch, and the book where I searched was one written by Margaret Hayes whose seasonal selections had been published in her husband's newspaper.

This book is not only great for recipes, but also for the thoughtful and descriptive prose which she interspersed amongst the recipes.  Much of her writing is about family, and a fair amount about the beauty of the Okanagan Valley, as it was probably thirty years ago before it became so populated and touristy.

She says about a blackbird morning...

"On a tall, leafless tree branch pointing upwards to a busy morning blue sky, a large blackbird sat alone, swaying this way and that as a light breeze caught and ruffled his cola-black feather.
I stop and crouch on the grass, unmoving, observing.
The birds head swivels, his ever watchful eyes, dark and aware, take in all unusual movement.
The, when he felt all was safe, his yellow beak opened wide and magical notes came burbling up from the depths of his rich, red throat, notes soaring and diving with ease to what one might imagine to be impossible heights and depths.
The sound was liquid, as soft oil tumbles from a bottle;  easy, soothing."

It is her awareness as well as her collection of wonderful recipes that keep her cookbook secure amongst the more elaborate publications.

I am intrigued by her entry for Irish Coffee...

"the way tis' served all over Ireland.

1 double measure Irish Whiskey               1 Tbs double cream
I cup strong, hot, black coffee                   1 heaped tsp sugar

First warm a stemmed whisky glass.  Put in the sugar and enough hot coffee to dissolve the sugar.  Stir well then add the Irish Whisky to fill within an inch of the brim.  Now, this is the tricky part;  hold a teeaspoon, curved back side up, across the glass and pour the cold cream slowly over the spoon.  Do not attempt to stir the cream into the coffee.  It should float on top and the hot, whisky-laced coffee drunk through the cold cream.  "Slainte 'gus Saol agat!"  (Health and long life to you)

However, I digress.  I was looking for a recipe for summer soup that I could make, and freeze in small jars, and that would get me through August lunches until it is time for more hearty September hamburger soup.

Which brings me to the Vichyssoise.......

Margaret says this about it...

"Cool soups are very refreshing for lunch or for a pre-dinner savoury, especially if the days are hot.  Make your soups ahead of time, preferably in the early morning - and life will become less of a hassle."

The Recipe!

2 lbs. leeks                                    4 potatoes
1/2 cup butter                                2 pints chicken stocks
1/2 cup cream                                salt and pepper

Wash leeks and slice white parts only.  (use green parts for casseroles or stews).  Peel and slice potatoes.  Melt butter in a pan, add leeks and potatoes and cook very slowly without browning for 17-20 minutes.  Add stock, bring yto boil, cover and simmer gently for 30 minutes until vegetables are very soft.  When cool, put in blender, or sieve.  Put soup in bowl and chill.  Just before serving mix in the cream and seasoning to taste.  Serve sprinkled with chopped chives or tarragon."

I sigh a bit - it all sounds so elegant.  Then I remember the package of Cream of Leek soup I have on the bottom shelf of the kitchen cupboard, and that, alas, is the Vichyssoise I have for lunch.

But perhaps you have company coming and would like to make it Margaret's way!!

Almost bedtime on the 31st of July, 2018

I am never bored!

Life is too full of any number of things to do...

As a matter of fact, I have an equation that haunts me....

"Will the number of things I long to do = the time I have left to do them in"

But today I must confess to being bored, and the thoughts

of bed and a half an hour of Netflex

seem quite delightful!

"I'm the child of your rainy Sundays.

I watched time crawl

Over the ceiling.

Like a wounded fly.

A day would last forever,

Making pellets of bread,

Waiting for a branch

On the bare tree to move.

The silence would deepen,

The sky would darken,

As Grandmother knitted

With a ball of black yarn.

I know Heaven's like that.

In eternity's classrooms,

The angels sit like bored children

With their heads bowed."

Charles Simic

Saturday I ran out of "bleached" white thread while

winding a warp..

.

Bleached is important, - it is whiter than white

and there was no way I could substitute one of the cones

in my closet.

So I ordered it online, immediately...

but of course the order didn't get filled until Monday

and posted until Tuesday

and is due to arrive on Thursday!!!

In the meantime the warping board is fully dressed

and both looms are naked, naked, naked

and I have no way to wind another warp to dress them.

I didn't realize how much I was relying on weaving

to fill these  'growing old' days!!

The garden is another spot where I can lose

hours to pure pleasure,

but we are in our eleventh day of extreme heat

and the only time it is comfortable

is early in the cool of the morning.

I could go for a ride on my loved one's scooter.

but there is a wildfire just over the mountain

that has filled the valley with smoke,

and best for the elderly to stay indoors

(I do count myself amongst those who are confined to the house)

(although I did go to the store today and visited

with shoppers and the girls at the till)

Taken out my 

front door, across the valley.

TV bores me at the best of times..

but there are always books!!!

And drawers and closets to clean and 'purge'

and old photographs to sort

(though that might bring on a fit of melancholia)

Or I could make an apricot pie..

or a chocolate cake....

or have an ice cream cone!!!

Oh well, tomorrow is another day..

one day closer to when I can resume weaving

and perhaps the wind will blow the smoke another way

so the air will be fresh

and the thermometer will not be up in the 30's!!

Enough whinging.....

Hope springs eternal

and one must remember

to praise what comes!!

Thursday, July 26th, 2018

The BIG BEN that resides in my computer has just struck the hour of Three!

Oh dear, how did it get to be that time already this afternoon.  I had such plans!!!

This was the day I was going to complete winding the warp for the deflected double weave  placemats I have planned, - practicing with 8/2 cotton before I warp with silk to create a couple of luscious scarves for Christmas (fast approaching).... 

But you know how it is in the summer, and in the midst of July's  hottest days.  Each day is warmer than the last, - this afternoon the thermometer hovers between 39 and 40 C, and on a day when the bright blue sky and the scorching sun are covered with a haze of smoke from local and far distant wildfires.....

While there was still a vestige of morning coolness I turned on the Air Conditioner, gathered up my grocery list and went to town,  The grocery store was crowded - all the townspeople are well acquainted with sweltering summer afternoons and like me, do their outdoor chores in the morning.

So the Air has been on for almost five hours, and has reached the stage where it starts producing ice, rather then flooding the house with cool air.  Why does it do that???  Ah, I wish I knew......but I do know how to remedy this situation.  Turn the fan to 'on', raise the wanted temperature to 28, turn off the AC and wait two hours while the ice melts and the machine is ready to fulfill the purpose it was meant for.  (I typed in "dratted machine"  but then I had second thoughts, - firstly not wanting to encourage it to not work at all, and secondly, realizing how very lucky I am to have it, labouring away in this hot, hot weather to make being inside a pleasure.)

I will wait two hours and by then, when I turn it back on, it will have regained its energy and when my daughter comes for Thursday Happy Hour we will be able to sip and chat in cool comfort.

On the farm, when the needs of the Barn came before the needs of the House, we did not have Air Conditioning.  But we did have windows with ventilation that opened inward, into the house, and if we had a large sprinkler whirling on the roof, the effect, if you used your imagination, was of a sudden and welcome spot of rain each time the sprinkler came around.  Not so out in the orchard,- there you had to rely on leafy shade and one day when we were picking apricots in July the thermometer brazenly reached 117 Farenheit (this was before the time of C.)  But we were young, and resilient, and anxious to market the apricots (which were so luscious, tree ripened).

Well, I am sitting here at the computer, when I should be winding warp, - 8 yards, 420 ends, alternating four white with four black threads......

I have been re-reading Chris Arthur's "Irish Willow" in wonderment at his wonderful choice of words, as well as the inventive and captivating ideas he describes in his essays.

It occurs to me that I could turn on a fan, rest my legs and read, and that I could finish that warp in the cool of the morning - tomorrow!!!!!

The weatherman says no relief from this heat until August is upon us, - a few more days!!!!!

I know it is this way in other parts of the world too, and I hope you are all coping!

This and That

Monday, July 16th, 2018

If we're talking "this and that" THIS would be the first thing we would talk about, 

- given present circumstances.

The WEATHER!

We are having a heat wave, - just finishing up the second day and with a couple more in the forecast!

I am in the garden shortly after six, and the cool morning air is deliciously refreshing!

Small birds twitter (we have a little family in the bird house that

hangs from the Mountain Ash) and there is a gentleness that is totally

lacking in the heat of the day.

As the morning progresses my youngest son arrives for breakfast

(visiting from the Chilcotin - lovely!!)

and I go back into the house, reluctantly.

The heat does not keep him from doing great things for "Mother"

the most recent being the painting of the outdoor furniture

(not in the slap dash way I would be inclined to do it,

but complete with scraping and primer and a careful application

of a fresh blue coat.

Just about the same shade as the gorgeous borage that the bees

are so fond of....

He has also resurrected the batteries required in the Scooter

Charles used here in town

(mainly by buying new ones)

and given me great encouragement about driving it

to the store, or the library,

or to visit friends...

All this in anticipation of the Doctor looking at me askance

when I go in for the required medical

for my driving license...

As he did when I was 92, and this coming birthday I will be two years older!

(but you know I still have my wits about me,

and am a very careful and conscientious driver)

Still - one must be prepared for all eventualities.....

When this dreadful heat finally breaks and it will be O.K.

to have doors open and fresh air wafting through the house,

we will tackle the Glimakra and change the treadle tie-up

so I can do beautiful deflected weaving

and make gorgeous scarves for Christmas present.

Oh,life is good, and the evening wears on and perhaps if I go and look

I will find that the temperature has cooled enough that

I might open the doors and windows.

The leaves are still, and there is no sign of a breeze

but the sun is not shining and making the porch floor

unbearably hot and scorching on bare feet

and one must Praise What Comes!!!!!

Here is a picture of the Barn Flowers, Sallie.

They are wonderful for privacy and so gay looking

floating to and fro in the breeze!!!

June 30th, 2018
The garden at the end of June

A stroll through......

A visiting swallowtail, and some volunteer

poppies that sprang up in the same pot as the borage and the sweet basil

and the lettuce, which is sure to bolt if somebody doesn't help me harvest it.

The little corner where the bag of potatoes, the curly end of the garlic

that appeared, unplanted, and the marigold  (which were supposed to be Cosmos)

brighten up a spot where the yellow climber reaches up to

the bird house on a pole.

The Shastas are happy and healthy and their golden centres blend nicely

with the yellow daisies,

which are happy too, but not too healthy

as their stems this year are playing host to a great horde

of red mites.

Over in the corner the day lilies bloom at the feet of the barn flowers,

which have grown tall and leafy, but won't bloom for another week,

or so.

The small, purple clematis has spread itself generously over the back fence

and here are a few volunteers that are filling in the other corner of the garden

at the end of the raised bed

where the lilies and the bee balm are vying for attention

or else just enjoying each other's company

some spirea, some comfrey and the lovely lavender

clematis that climbs the arch above the gate

to the side garden

Outside the front fence the common day lily and the yellow daisy

stand behind a wonderful array of yarrow that came to visit

uninvited, but so welcome.

It has been a cooler spring and one encouraging  to wandering seeds.

Look closely and you will see those dratted red mites....

it is probably the weather that has encouraged them, too.

If you're in the neighbourhood, come to visit

Tea. coffee and cookies, - lots of birds

and bees, buzzing around.

And the mosquitoes which were so horrendous

have retired to wherever mosquitoes go when they

quit harassing the gardener.........

The Storm

I opened my window wide last night, when I went to bed, hoping to catch a little coolness, - a little breeze to aid in sleep.  The day had been humid. and there wasn't much relief in the evening...but we did all the before bed things, Bruce, Callie and I.  Treats, - a last minute run outside and a bark at the gate, and I settled in bed with Prime Video to watch a bit of a movie, - (Out of Africa, once again!!).

I suppose I was only half asleep when the storm struck!

At first I thought "It is the dratted Village, bringing in heavy equipment to dig up the intersection at 7th and 7th, to accommodate their Soil Reclamation project, and they are using 6th avenue rather than main street because it is already all dug up!!"

And then I thought " No, it cannot be that - and it cannot be a freight train, but it sure sounds like one"

Finally I awoke enough to realize it was the wind, furious in its first gusts through the neighbours pine and walnut trees, rumbling through the air and sending strange sounds and fierce winds through my bedroom window.

I thought about Callie, and how she burrows in the blankets on my bed when the wind blows wild!!!

Went through the house, to check on her, and on Bruce, and found them looking fearful, and somewhat quizzical, so I stopped to reassure them, find a flashlight to put by my bed in case the power went off, and we all decided when the wind calmed down we would survive this storm quite nicely.

That was before the thunder and the lightning staged their version of "The Storm", a fairly spectacular show!

 I warmed some milk and sat with the small ones for a while before I went back to bed and my memories of prairie summer storms, when I was snuggled in an upstairs bedroom of my grandparent's house and the room was filled with the growling of thunder and the sudden brilliant  flash of lightning, - sometimes a jagged cut across the sky, - sometimes a light that brightened all the dark clouds and illuminated my summer bedroom around me.

The Similkameen is not given to rain showers and summer storms,

 being partially a desert climate, and I miss that....

Last night I smelled the lovely freshness of the rain and thought how welcome the moisture would be for the flowers and plants and the lawn.  Now, in my nineties, I have a special appreciation for the unusual and as I slipped into sleep I had grateful thoughts that this sweet storm had come along to stir my memories and give me another chance to enjoy nature and her light and thunder show.

This morning, as I cleaned up the debris and put the broken leaves and branches

 into the compost barrel, 

I still had a fondness for the night's events.....

THE STORM

Wendell Berry

We lay in our bed as in a tomb

awakened by thunder to the dark

in which our house was one with night,

and then light came as if the black

roof of the world had cracked open,

as if the night of all time had broken,

and out our window we glimpsed the world

birthwet and shining, as even

the sun at noon had never made it shine.

A Post Script, later in the day!

I have just listened to the local news and am feeling quite quilty that I should have expressed even a bit of enjoyment with this early morning show nature staged for us.  It appears that as the storm moved up the Okanagan it picked up a couple of locomotives, blew vigorously and fussed around and caused a great deal of damage to the cities and the countryside, - trees felled, houses crushed, thousands of people without electricity, even now.  oh dear, - one man's treasure, another man's trash!  Shall I be grateful that we only experienced the beginning of this rampage and that it was quite beautiful to behold???

Breakfast menu

Thursday, June 14th, 2018

I come from a family familiar with English Cookery - roast beef and yorkshire pudding,, steak and kidney pie, Eccles cakes and bread and butter pudding, treacle pudding (grandmother style) and Toad in the Hole and Beef  Wellington....one of my earliest memories is sitting in bed between my grandparents, sipping morning tea in bed, from the saucer!!

My mother, she was ENGLISH. and quite often in the mornings she fed us soft boiled eggs with "soldiers"!!

My beloved's mother, -  she was IRISH, and so he had never become familiar with that delightful practice of dipping the toasted soldier into the lovely yellow yolk, and spooning out the white of the egg from the shell.

As a matter of fact he thought it was a rather degrading and ungenteel way to enjoy breakfast, and so our children never got to cherish this lovely English custom.

Unfortunately, -  I am free now to have whatever I please to break the night's fast, and a couple of times in the last two weeks I have fore sworn the coddled egg, or the fruit and cereal bowl, and made myself a nice, warm piece of toast, all cut up into straight and stalwart soldiers, ready for dipping!

My son-in-law fell into someone's favour and came across a couple of dozen beautiful big, fresh, brown farm eggs, which he kindly shared with me.

It has been heaven, first thing in the morning!!!!

Thank you to Christina for the picture, - 

she also wrote about the delights of eggs and soldiers!!!!