Sorting old photos

I spent the majority of the afternoon with one of the boxes of old photos (which I do treasure) on the table beside me, sorting through these precious snaps and making sure that the people in them were identified, and perhaps adding a small note as to time and place and memories. 

 For some reason I found as the afternoon passed I was getting more and more depressed, and this was a puzzle, as most of these photos are of places or people that I have been fond of, and one would think they would bring back affectionate memories. Well, they did that. At least some of them, - even the graveyard pictures. They reminded me that I have work to do on genealogy and as one ages you just simply have to face the fact that time is limited, and you can't put off these things forever!!!! 

I rescued many of these pictures of the older generation from a cousin who was on the verge of throwing them away!!!  How could he!!!

 Perhaps that was what was causing my blue mood? The realization that the photos depicted the past, and as wonderful as the memories were, in many cases the chance of making more memories with these same dear ones was long past.... I have a little file of photos of grave sites of grandparents and great uncles and aunts and cousins, and even parents. They are precious to me, but a lingering reminder of time and its habit of "passing" - never to be retrieved. It leaves in its wake these dear nostalgic memories. 

There is a picture of my great grandparents "gingerbread" house, and a whole raft of relatives on the porch, in the picture below, - my father, his sister, for whom I am named, my grandparents, and my uncle Bob, leaning nonchalantly against a post, and a couple of aunts who were swept away when both were just newly married, by the pandemic of 1918/19.

And the young girl sitting on the steps, who is the image of my own granddaughter.

I muse over a picture of one of my grandmothers, standing close with her own mother, - and a dear, sweet photo of another grandmother at the age of probably two, seated on her mother's knee and looking so much like my sister.

 

 Oh time and genes,- how they accompany us into the future and the inevitable end, when only memories remain ...maybe THAT accounts for my nostalgia, which was a little bit morbid as well as grateful for the past. On the other hand, that time and those genes and that future bring the joy we all enjoy in the present, - despite that darned pandemics!!

This and that

Saturday, July 18th, 2020 Oh, it's been a hot, hot day!!! Out the back, early in the morning, it was cool and morning coffee was a pleasure. I took some shriveled up lettuce leaves out of the two big pots I had planted with daisies and various kinds of lettuce greenery, and I went to inspect the bodies of the red mites and white aphids that I had murdered yesterday. I found I wasn't too good at that profession, - a few mites and aphids lying dead, - a few more looking sickly, but the majority were snipping away at the roses and the stems of the yellow daisies. My youngest son and I had buried Callie at the bottom of the garden, and planted a lovely white rose above her (it has turned out to be a climber, so should make a dear little spot of remembrance. However, those sweet buds needed another insecticidal spraying, so I did that; picked a few raspberries to have for breakfast, and Bruce and I sat for a while to watch the birds and the bees and the butterflies while we breathed in the sweet, cool morning air. In these pandemic days there was a service of sorts for a friend from early days who had died a few months ago, and not being able to attend, but wanting to send a remembrance (and not having any sympathy cards in the house - drat it!) I spent the rest of the morning struggling with printable cards, the printer that didn't want to cooperate, and a search for the right size envelope wherein to put said card!!! By this time my six o'clock breakfast had kept me satisfied for long enough, and it was time to renew my energies with lunch......lunchtime already, and no weaving done!! However, I made up for that in the early afternoon. Washed the warp that the same number four son who helped me bury Callie had just taken off the Glimakra. and admired the free style weaving he had accompished. That loom is empty now, and I am excited about preparing the mohair warp for a lovely warm, fuzzy blankie!! And I did a few inches on the lacey tea towels I am making... I began to realize it was fairly warm in the house, and after checking the thermostat I went out to peer at the air conditioner which was buzzing away but not accomplishing much except making ice around its' hoses. I have a little note stuck to the wall, next to the therostat and it tells me what to do if that condition should arise (as it has before) so I did what I was instructed (I think the instructions on the reminder came from Charles so I was careful to follow directions) I do miss him so.... The afternoon didn't get any cooler, - the sun shone down upon us and the air was still, - not a leaf moving or even the slightest breeze blowing. I had a quick supper - peeked out the door to see if the temperature still hovered around the lower thirties Centigrade. It did, so here I am with a fan blowing at my back. I have had my nightly telephone call from D - dear daughter - and I am readyfor whatever the evening brings. Sometimes in the day time evening tasks come to haunt me and I resolve to start sorting and marking snapshots, - especially those of people who will not be familiar to the younger generation, and who I especially want to be remembered..... A little cello music will make a nice background, - Hauser, probably....his music is so very beautiful! I think there is not much chance that tomorrow will be cooler, but it is July and it's fine to embrace the summer days!!

Tuesday evening, July 14th, 2020

A few months ago I cane across a book of poetry written by Jane Kenyon.

Her name was new to me, as was her poetry, but the few poems that were available to me interested and touched me, and I sent away for her Collected Poems.  I have been enjoying them immensely ever since, and was sorry to read that she had died in 1995.

I had marked Page 248 with a little slip of paper, to remind myself to go back and read her poem "Not Here", because it reminded me of a little calamity I had experienced, (and  I will tell you about after you have read Jane's account of her experience)......

"Searching for pillowcases trimmed

with lace that my mother-in-law

once made, I open the chest of drawers

upstairs to find tthat mice

have chewed the blue and white linen

dishtowels to make their nest,

and bedded themselves among embroidered dresser scarves

and fingertip towels.

Tufts of fibers, dropping like black

caraway seeds,and the stains of birth

and afterbirth give off the strong

unforgettable attar of mouse

that permeates the old farmhouse

on humid summer days.

A couple of hickory nuts

roll around as I lift out

the linens, while a hail of black

sunflower shells

falls on the pillow cases,

yellow with age, but intact.

I'll bleach them and hang them in the sun

to dry.  There's almost no one left

who knows how to crochet lace.

The bright-eyed squatters are not here.

They've scuttled out to the fields

for summer, as they scuttled in

for winter, along the wall from chair

to skirted chair,  making themselves

flast and scarce while the cat

dozed with her paws in the air,

and we read the mail

or evening papers, unaware"

Well, my calamity happened in the dead of night, but it was while Callie was still with us, probably deep in sleep on the couch.

I had been busy weaving, as usual, and had made a scarf that I was especially delighted with,,,  Along our hallway my oldest son put a railing at elbow level, to discourage falling, but I found that it was just the thing to hang folded scarves and tea towels and other weavings, straight off the loom.

This is where I had put the scarf in question, so I could admire it!

Here is a picture of the fringe that hung on each end!!

Some time during the night a little mouse (or a little rat) came along and chewed each fringe from one end of the scarf - right  to the hemstitching on the end!!

So now the scarf sits in my Hope Chest (although I don't have hopes that it will grow a new fringe) -

and some day soon I will snip off the fringe from the other end, and hem both ends neatly.

So there is my tale of woe which is quite as soul searing as the damage done to Jane Kenyon's mother-in-law's lace edged pillow case.

Oh look!!

Blogger and I are starting to get along quite nicely 

and I was able to capture a garden picture

and put it just where I wanted it!

It's been a nice Sunday - I went to church online this morning

and afterwards spent a few hours on the loom -

I made a real mess of threading a lace pattern

and so am ignoring the lace threading and 

making a pretty kitchen scarf in plain weave

before I get up enough courage to cut off the warp

and re-thread it to the proper pattern.

I suppose it doesn't really take courage ---

Just a weary acceptance of the fact that I have

created a little monster

and I must spend time re-threading.

But then, what else is there but time

with this on-going pandemic that only seems to

affect us with a little "lockdown" that discourages

us from gadding!

Lovely afternoon of music on the TV .....

Enjoyed a young man's violin music

and Pressler - the 96 year old pianist

who plays the piano like a young and vigorous man.

I admire him greatly, - he has such a sweet smile, too.

Oh, if life is kind to us oldsters

we do make the most of our gratitude!!!!!

I

An Up-Date.....

Friday, July 10th, 2020

When I talk about "an up-date" I am really taking about what happens daily around the house, and out in the garden.  And maybe with a slight comment about what the rest of the family is doing, they who seem to lead the normal life that I once did, and wander hither and yon about their daily schedule.

I still have that lovely little internal alarm clock that waken me just before six, and especially now, when I see blue sky and white clouds and breathe in the sweet morning air, it behooves me to reach for my slippers and an airy kimona and go and stir Bruce from his slumber.  Well, sometimes he is already awake, and we make our way down the hall and he skips down the stairs and through the doggie door, to do whatever doggies do when they first awaken. Mr too, I attend to morning ablutions and then we are ready for the first cup of coffee and a home-made biccie or two for Bruce.

This is my quiet time, and I sit around and think a lot, ponder a bit (that's more serious thinking and sometimes it involves a memory or two). It has been my habit for a long time - Charles was a late night person and not such an early riser, so many times, after the thoughtful time,  I would slip out to the garden and be knee deep in the raspberry patch, or picking peas or beans, when he would appear at the window, waving the coffee pot.

At seven o'clock my daughter phones, to touch base and discuss the night's sleep, before she goes to work.

Bruce and I have breakfast.

My son-in-law and daughter live just across the lane.  When she has gone to work he appears in the garden, collecting up bird seed to feed the birds and refilling the lady fountain whose water trickles all day and provides the birds with a place to drink, and sometimes to bathe.  Especially the robins, - they make a great fluster with droplets flying everywhere, and wings flapping around the fountain lady's bended knees.

My son-in-law comes in for coffee - he is a youngish  Cawston pioneer, and we are both well versed in the lores and ways of this little village and the people who live there, so we have all sorts of people and events to talk about before he is on his way to work, and I am on my way to whatever I have planned for the day.

But first I check my mail, and always Facebook!  A great way to catch up on village news and often little snatches of news from and about grandchildren and even the great grands....

Sometimes in the morning I bake, or stuff something in the slow cooker for supper- especially in the summertime.  But before I do anything in the house Bruce and I are out in the garden/jungle, - eagerly now when there is so much blooming and everything is green and luscious.

After a while I hear the loom room calling, or a great yearning comes over me to do some threading or sleying or to wind some warp, and I drop my housewife aura and turn into a weaver for as long as my back allows me, before it complains...

I am so fortunate, and so grateful that even as I age I have this passion that allows me to plan projects, do the math and get the warp on the loom, and then spend lovely afternoons throwing the shuttle.  It keeps my mind active much better.

Our youngest son is spending some time in the South, from his home in the Cariboo, and often he will drop in, - a wonderful conveyor of news, and groceries when I need them, and a Star performer at fixing looms and tying up treadles.

I no longer have my driving licence and have reached this "could-be-lonely age" when my dearest beloved and all my loving peer friends have shuffled off to whatever awaits us all.  With the pandemic that troubles us all I don't go shopping anymore, and the church is closed.  But I can always go to the fruit stand around the corner.

My mode of transport is Charles' cart which I have seen him do wheelies on, but I drive it much more modestly and feel much more vulnerable if I should run into traffic.  So I am thinking that I shouldn't be such a wimp, and despite my advanced age I should show a bit of courage and a lot of aplomb and just pop down the Main Street, traffic or not!!!  Ten years ago I had a friend (not quite as old as I am but much more adventurous).  She was going down the Main Street in the middle of the day when a great huge truck came up behind her, and when he passed the breeze the truck created blew off her wig!!!

I don't wear a wig, but I might lose a hat!!

Well, I will consider this in the morning, but right now Bruce is telling me it is time for him to go out into the beautiful night air, - look around for the moon, make his bladder comfortable, and say goodnight and go to bed.  Me too!!!

Tomorrow is another day!  And I am half way through sleying the threads for a towel warp, which must get before I can make that luscious mohair blanket!!!

The day beckons, - there is much to look forward to...

P.S.   I would post some pictures of the garden and the fountain lady but it is late and the blogger is being difficult and dare I say, almost obnoxious.  Certainly it does not pick up and deposit photos where I want them to go so I will do battle with Mr. Blogger another time...

Sunday

July 5th, 2020

I have just said good-night to the garden, - turned the water off here, and put it on there for the evening

Admired the flowers that are greeting July with lots of bloom and enthusiasm.....and noticed that the garlic scapes are curly nicely and making a lovely structural picture where they are growing amongst the raspberries - don't asked me how they got there, but they are welcome, and making themselves right at home.

It has been a warm day, and this afternoon I was glad of the shaded patio out in the back garden

 - perfect place for cold drinks and cool books. I am reading (re-reading) The Language of God (a scientist presents evidence for belief) by Francis Collins, who seems to know what he's talking about. He seems quite satisfied with the theory of "theistic evolution" - many thoughts which I am entirely  in agreement with.  Well, as much as you can be in agreement when you are pondering "life, and where it arose from".

Sometimes the best you can do is just lay it down to a MYSTERY.

I have some nice McCall Smith books to lighten the reading load a little, and give my mind a rest, and some entertainment.

In the morning, when I still have more than just a shade of energy, I have been winding warps with firstly a set of lace and spotted towels and secondly a mohair blanket, the thoughts of which make me wonder if I am over-reaching my capabilities at this advanced age!  However I am game to give it a try, and am quite excited by the cones of mohair that arrived in the mail.

Before I started counting warp threads I went to online church - lovely to be able to arrive and listen to the old familiar words of the Anglican service - although I don't hear the words of my youth 

"Dearly beloved brethren, the scripture moveth us in sundry places to acknowledge and confess our manifold sins and wickedness" 

 (I remember in my younger days exchanging these words for "Dearly beloved brethren, the scripture moveth us in sundry places to go and watch the donkey races, and when we've seen which donkey won etc. etc.- I have forgotten the last part about what we would do upon seeing which donkey won.  It will probably come to me in the night, when my mind rescues those little bits and pieces that get stuck along the way from my memory to my mind!!!

Anyway, without getting all dressed up for church I was able to take part in that hour that has meant so much in my life....I have to say that I did miss Charles, beside me 😐😐 or signaling to me to crank the organ either up or down, depending upon how loud it was coming through...

Life goes on, day by day and one must somehow cope with the losses and appreciate the pluses - which are pretty well made up with our children and their loving attention and care!  

And this makes me think of the other day when Bruce and I went out to sit on the bench in the back garden while my youngest son, and my oldest son, together dealt with a rat that had somehow got into the house and was causing much confusion while I slept.....well, not much, but enough to be noticeable.

Fine men and hunters, those boys!!!!  Home is now rodent free.....

I would like to leave a picture here, but this new way of putting a blog together is one I find quite stressing, so I guess I will leave things as they are, and say Good Night, - God bless,  etc.....

Farewell to June

• What is so rare as a day in June?

James Russell Lowell asks the question, and one can only say, June is the rarest month of all, and never, in all the other months, will you find a "perfect day".   as you will in June ----- if you are aware and alert to the beauty that surrounds you, as nature awakens and the earth stirs and all the greenery and the summer flowers take over that bare brown earth that was the sleeping garden.

Oh gosh, I am getting carried away, but the garden has been so lovely this past month and I have found such pleasure in all the flowers that bloomed, - one after the other as the month moved on.  I have to admit it is a bit of a jungle in spots where the plants are revved up, and I have not be diligent enough to go about thinning the extra stalks and greenery.

Right now the Bee Balm is raising it's lovely scruffy red head above the creamy yellow lilies that are just starting to bloom, and they wave around in the summer breeze amongst the golden daisy-like flowers (that I don't know the name of),  There are other beautiful pink lilies across the way in the eastern bed, and beside them the Shasta daisies are in their glory - they are such nice, dependable daisies, and last so long in the garden, - and in the house when I bring in a bouquet.

I am hoping to post a few photos but I find myself at odds with this new way of posting a blog - the icons are all so unfamiliar and they don't seem to respond to my urgent clicks, so at this point I have not been able to access any pretty pictures!!!

I will keep trying but I find it very frustrating as bedtime looms, and I have been up since six a.m. (which is my usual time of rising because the morning hours have always been so precious to me, and a great time to ponder and plan).

I digress!!  I will go and click on those two peaks and see if any photos come up, - and if so I am able to manipulate them on to this page!!

Yes, yes!!!  I am beginning to be hopeful!

Seven a.m. in the morning.  Everything froze up last night, - I think it was the White Rabbit pretending to be The Trickster.

I have decided to post this as it is, and get on with the day.  (Which is cool and promising to be a good day at the loom).....

Friday, June 26th, 2020

Youngest son arrived early this morning with a virtual chauffeur's hat and a delightful invitation to go for a drive....which I so readily accepted!!!

Since reaching this venerable age, and since my driver's licence expired I am not so inclined to make these  drives down through the Valley, - the ones that Charles and I used to take on the spur of the moment, and found so enjoyable.

Without even checking my hair or my lipstick I was out through the door, down the steps and into the car, ready and raring to go!

This is a drive that we used to take fairly often, poking around in all the nooks and crannies of Cawston where we lived for so long, with apple trees and sheep and a wonderful family of children. 

found that things have not changed drastically, - many things still the same to stir my memories of the thirty-six years we lived on the Cawston Bench with our children, Charles' father, and a flock of sheep.

Different occupants of the houses and orchards from those who planted the Benchland;  all veterans of the Second World War, as it was a "Soldier Settlement" project, as they called such entities after the First World War.

So probably the community is somewhat different, and perhaps the farmers are not all so young, and peers of the military, and there may not be so many children, but the orchards are all looking green and vital and cared for, and here and there are the remnants of some of the veteran families whose children have stayed with the farm.

 All sorts of memories came flooding back, - the year we had all black lambs from the beautiful silver/black ram we had, and the field above the fruit orchard was ebony dotted with his offspring.  The children of various ages, all catching the school bus, and the involvement of the ladies of the Bench in the Parent and Teacher's Association - the festivities in the Cawston Hall, and the Father and Daughter dance that opened the evening - the wonderful feeling of comradeship among these young veterans and their families, -  stirring up Memories' Well can result in great nostalgia, and it is enough to say it was such a pleasure to be in this small community again.

And there were the other memories of the fields of tomatoes we planted for the cannery, while we waited for the orchards to produce fruit and provide us with a living.  I remember playing bridge with friends in their unfinished house (as most all Veteran's houses  were - unfinished -.as the money had all gone for trees and irrigation equipment and tractors) and one of the rooms was stacked with tomatoes for the market in Vancouver.  The smell of tomatoes in great quantities always reminds me of that bridge game.

.We went a little way down the Valley, saw a raptor flying overhead - my son tells me it is safe to call this lovely soaring bird a "raptor" as it wasn't an eagle, or a raven - although I have seen eagles in the Similkameen, and I have heard that old timers have called it the valley of Eagles.  Probably my most memorable sight of them was a lone eagle,flying in circles above a funeral cortage of an indigenous pioneer of the valley.

Ah, to be young again.  

 And how much pleasure these memories give me, 

- and how much I appreciated this unexpected little drive!!!   

On the whole, life is very good!!

Thursday, June 25th, 2020

Ten o'clock, and it is time to close up the house.  The thermometer indoors is 23C. and outdoors on the porch, where the sun shines relentlessly from the time it gets up until about noon - there it is 30C - and climbing!!!!

I have  come in from moving sprinklers around, and picking a few flowers to replace the ones who recently brought pleasure to the house, but have now just faded away!!!  The Shastas are starting to bloom and the yellow daisy types threaten to give me total privacy as they tower above the back fence that runs along the lane.  I should know the name of these plants, but it has escaped me, as so many names seem to do now.  When people inquire about the blooms I should not sputter and fluster but just name them confidently, - any old name!!!!  Evidently the enquirer doesn't know, and would probably forget immediately whatever I tell them!!!! Or better that I should admit to being forgetful, and don't know....😞😞

My memory these days works best in the middle of the night, when the name of some old acquaintance suddenly comes to me!  It's a good thing I am at home almost always, - it saves me from that embarrassing flounder for the right name to call someone, - I use "Love" a lot.  It covers up my forgetfulness and gives the recipient a feeling of affection!!!

It is time to retreat to the loom room, where the warp lies waiting to be threaded.  I still have not decided if I should stick with a plain weave or search for some exotic pattern that requires me to concentrate on a more difficult order of threads.  To be truthful I am very inclined to go with the plain weave - I like to tell myself it is more absorbent in a towel, although I know this is really not so.....  1,2,3,4, 1,2,3,4,....allows me to wander in my thoughts, which is sometimes a good thing for the ancient!!    

 Before I go, here are a few pictures of the garden.  I say this confidently, not knowing where I should go next on this new and confusing blog order (confusing to me, anyway, but that may be because I am NINETY-FIVE and in love with THE WAY THINGS WERE!)

Well, there are three pictures, - eventually I will get used to this new way to Blog, and then, of course, it is quite possible someone will change the whole order of things!!!!!  And where will I be then??????

out in the garden eating worms, poor thing -

this is a little rhyme I used to tell the children, when they pouted or were down in the mouth.......

"You'll be out in the garden eating worms,

poor thing!

Long, slim, slimy ones,

short, fat, furry ones!!!

Oh how they tickle

when they squirm, yum, yum!!!"

............Accompanied by a fond tickle to the tummy, and soon they were smiling again!!!

I found a few worms the other day when I was digging around, and it reminded me of the days we used to collect worms to go fishing, and I did miss Charles!!! And the fishing trips with grandchildren, - all grown up now......but still sweet in my memory....

This and That and new ways to confuse old ladies!

Another day "confined to barracks" as was the wartime phrase. I don't complain - there is so much here to keep my hands and mind busy and creative, and out in the garden the greatest pleasure is to sit with a book, a cold drink and a hammock to rest my feet upon!!

I have just finished reading Chris Arthur, - his latest book of essays "Hummingbirds Between the Pages". I am very taken with books of essays - they give you something fairly short to read, and then to ponder. The last chapter of his Hummingbird book is entitled "Thirty-six Ways of Looking at an Essay" and he presents this list as a defense of the Essay which he feels is a victim of the misconceptions that "too many people dismiss the essay as "something of little interest, a relic occupying a literary dead-end or a chore that belongs in the academic backwaters of student assessment,"

 This is surely not the case in the group of essays that Arthur has put together. which covers a wide range of subjects including (from the back of the book) "Charles Darwin's killing of a South American fox to the carnal music sounding in the statue of the Buddha" - whether he's looking at sea shell, skipping stones, old photographs or butterflies, the book is just pure pleasure!!!

 I was taken back to holidays at the lake, when I was a child, and the underhanded skill of skipping stones into the water to the point where I would really like to go out and determine if I still have that movement that comes so naturally when I think of "skipping" stones, and how many times you can make the stone graze the water, and what shape the very best stones are, for doing this!! Ah well, all this is probably many years behind me and I don't envision the opportunity to see if I can still make stones skip - not any time soon!!!!

 If nothing else keeps any elderly lady home this current pandemic surely does!! Luckily there is lots to do here.... I am in the midst of threading the LeClerc with a cheery towel warp - orange and apricot with a few brown stripes to make the colours glow. And besides that I still have boucle towels to hem, and a new Cello DVD to watch and listen to. Nevertheless, it has been a long time since I've even toodled down the street, or around the block, and each night, as darkness falls, I think about the 'morrow and the plans I keep making to run over town on the Scooter that sits in the garage, ready for adventure.

 The day is bright and the sun is shining, after a little bout with thunder that really put the wind up poor Bruce, who came looking for reassurance. Blogger has introduced a new and unfamiliar way to draft a post, and I am not much into new ways, but appreciate the familiar that doesn't tax my brain too much. However, I will see if I can publish this, and maybe I might even be able to add a snapshot or two!!!  If I can find where you click to add photos!!   Or even where you click to "post"!!!!!

Oh dear oh dear, - change is inevitable, but often not welcome as the years go by and you cherish the old and familiar!!!

If I find the POST icon hopefully you can read this!

And more good reading!!!!!   

  

June 17th, 2020

I woke to blue skies, white clouds and the faintest summer breeze, blowing through my open window.

For a week it has rained, been dreary and wet and the flowers and plants bent over, peering at the damp grass!

But this morning put joy in my heart when I opened my eyes to sunshine, and I quickly slipped out to put on the coffee while I dressed and let Bruce out to gambol on the nice fresh lawn.

When the morning coffee visitors had gone about their business I gathered up cups, had a hasty piece of toast, and we were out like a flash to welcome the sun (after all the dreary rain...)

Took a few pictures....

The small clematis is clinging to the back fence in great bundles, while what remains of the honeysuckle  intermingles around the edges

Towering over the garden shed the red rose blazes, as it is supposed to do in compliance with its name.  We have had Blaze Roses in all our gardens (as I have probably said before).  I would say they have a sentimental place, but somehow it is more than sentiment, but a continuation of a love and relationship we have had for this handsome and loyal flower.  There were Blaze Roses growing against Charles' parents' screened in porch and it just seemed natural to plant them in our first garden

There are lots of things in bud - not so many in bloom - but here are a few delphinium,  the remnants of the peonies in the back garden, and the last of the roses.

some pink roses and a few tubs of herbs and flowers....

and a shaggy peony!!

In a week or so the garden will be a glorious mass of yellow and gold

as the barn flowers and the yellow petaled daisies 

start to bloom,

with the shastas as a lovely complement to them.

When the clouds gather I go in and weave

and have this great long warp

to show for it!!!

It's all cut up now. into individual bits

with ten towels to hem

and two placemats which are nicely fringed!!!

busy days for busy fingers!!!

It fills the hours when we are so confined

to home these pandemic days.

June 10th 2020

A slightly despairing June day.  The clouds are grey and lowering, and the dampness echos in my bones.

I go from one thing to another, - a bobbin of boucle woven into the towels I am making on the loom  - a page or two read out of the Chris Arthur essays I am reading (Hummingbirds Between the Pages) a second cup of coffee and I turn on the '40's music I am listening to on Serius Radio.  The memories it arouses are tender and poignant.

Days like this urge one to follow the call from the kitchen to busy oneself with making  pies, or cookies, or cake - filling the kitchen with appealing odours and the cookie jar with chocolate chips!!  However, days like this also discourage one from standing at the kitchen counter measuring out the ingredients, and my back aches at the thought!

Things are o.k. in the garden - rather at a standstill until the sun starts shining again.  A few golden petals are starting to come out, and the Monada is about to scatter it's lovely shaggy blooms throughout the garden.  What is really looking quite beautiful, even in this damp and shadowy weather, is the white rose we planted over Callie's grave - and the Honeysuckle, smelling divine.

I see that the sun has deigned to appear and I shall pull up the blind and let its rays encourage the day!  Is it here to stay or is this just a teasing glimpse????

In any case I shall continue with the day, - maybe go and pour a cup of coffee and read a bit - and if the sun doesn't suddenly disappear Bruce and I will go and pull a few weeds and try to make our way through the jungle that the garden is becoming, out the back to the rhubarb.

I have a few strawberries left and a ball of pastry in the freezer that is just enough to make a rhubarb and strawberry pie!!!

Time, you old gypsy man.....

June 3rd, 2020

Before I went to the loom this morning I sat and mused,

as I lingered over coffee...

Mused about the passage of time

and where I now exists on its line

between birth and death.

Well, I am naturally more involved

with the "now", rather than with

what may come  (what 'inevitably' may come!)

The breakfast table

is right next to my book shelves...

I would like to call it a library

but the books are not that well organized..

I picked out three, randomly,

and leafed through them as I lingered

over my second cup of coffee.

"The Human Revolution" by Ashley Montague....

a book that fascinated me fifty

(or maybe sixty) years ago.

It, along with Loren Eiseley's "Firmament of Time"

melded and influenced much of my thinking in those days

when I came rather late to asking so many

questions about life ....

The third book was "Handwoven Laces" by Donna Muller

and it represents the path my mind followed 

when I took up weaving seriously.

I am eternally grateful that I was so drawn.

I cannot complain about being alone

as our children are close, physically and emotionally,

and I find they assuage the loneliness that so often

comes in old age, when you have lost your Beloved, 

and there is nobody to discuss at the breakfast table,

the here's and where's and what's and so on!!!

However, the looms have kept the creative part

of my mind active and the actual day-to-day act of weaving

is sometimes even exciting!!!

It fills my time, and that is so important , (I think)

as one ages, and copes somehow with the loss of friends

and the means to be more mobile.....

I took two lovely silk and linen, blue and grey scarves

off the loom, - washed and pressed them -

and now I must go and twirl all the fringes!!!

White peonies

Peonies at Dusk

White peonies blooming along the porch

send out light

while the rest of the yard grows dim.

Outrageous flowers as big as human

heads!  They're staggered

By their own luxuriousness.  I had

to prop them up with stakes and twine.

The moist air intensified their scent,

and the moon moves around the barn

to find out what it's coming from.

In the darkening June evening

I draw a blossom near, and bending close

search it as a woman searches

a loved one's face.

Jane Kenyon

May 29th, 2020

Morning in the Garden

The shadows are lengthening

as the sun rises higher in the sky

but still it is morning,

and there is that lovely fresh aura

in the air

Spring is late this year, -

at least the gardens' response to spring.

I look at pictures from earlier years

when the Blaze and Princess roses

were in full bloom...

but I am not impatient.

It will all happen in good time

and I find joy in watching the garden gradually

settle into summer!

Here's what's blooming!!!!

The Iris, of course

Iris and a few pink roses, although they are far behind last year's generous offering....

not so with the buttercups, - they are inclined to be weedish - but bright and heart warming, so they 

get accepted!!

 Out back there are some lilies and more iris, a garden shop basket and the promise of lilies and shastas and peonies - SOON

a few early poppies and the honeysuckle coming into bloom

along with the clematis that lives beside it.

The scarlet peonies along the front fence have been quite gorgeous,

but here, in the back garden, the single white peony starts to bloom

and they are so lovely in the evenings when they spread wide

their petals, and their beautiful golden centre glows.

The Blaze rose got a terrific pruning job this year, and although they are not

the brilliant blaze of glory as in other years

we will look forward to 2021!!!

Lilies - the first of many

and more pink cabbage roses

 Everything welcomes the sun and the rain

and blooms merrily

Oh, life would be so dreary without a garden!!

Bouquet No. 1

A beautiful sunny day!

  

a few perennial buttercups at the feet of the iris and alium

yesterday was dismal........

but today is inviting!!

Following a little after-lunch nap

we left Bruce sleeping

and The Walker and I

went out for  a little stroll

(as much as you can 'stroll' with a Walker -

but that's the way things are these days!!)

There are some lovely light lilies in bloom

a perfectly wonderful yellow.....

and the early peony is showing signs of

calling it a day, while the later ones

are still pregnant, - growing closer every hour!

A few early white daisies are crowding in

amongst the clover that persists on growing

at the front of the flower bed,  just 

beyond the fence (that needs painting)

And the yellow daisies show dire signs

of the problems that afflicted them

last year,

which means I must seek expert advice

and get them sprayed, or they will

all curl up and die.

The garden needs attention,

but not this afternoon.

I am here to enjoy the few roses that are blooming,

the poppies that are pushing against

their white metal fencing,

and to pick a few flowers to

brighten up the house.

Not an awful lot to choose from

but soon I had a nice selection lining The Walker's basket

and here they are....

..

placed in front of the "arrival mirror".....

an old dresser that fills the bill nicely,

and makes one think that we have just twice as many

blossoms as the garden yielded.

Off to make a cup of tea, or a glass

of lemonade,

and I shall sit outside and glory

in the late spring.

at 95 one must take advantage of the beauty

that cometh from above....

Just in Case.....Carpe Diem.

On reading Mary Oliver

May 22nd, 2020

I breakfast with Mary Oliver

and one sentence she writes

out of the vast and beautiful picture

she paints with words

takes me back years, into another world -

to when we were young

and tending the orchard

with all the other veterans

on Fairview Heights........

and the children were so contained

in our lives - school buses and bicycles,

picnics on the big rock,

listening to the Night Hawks

as they break the evening air

with their cries and the clap of their wings

Such wonderful memories -

did we realize at the time that we were

manufacturing these beautiful memories

 so they would sit beside us

when we were ancient

sipping our morning coffee and

losing ourselves in the words of the poet.