Skywatch Friday

An evening shower in the Similkameen, June 2nd, 2010

For more wonderful sky pictures from around the world click here and visit Skywatch Friday.

ABC Wednesday

The letter this week is the elegant T

T is for Tarantella

Continuing the musical theme from last week, here is a wonderful video of David Harris and Jelani Eddington   playing Gottschalk's Grand Tarantella.  These two musicians have graced this Blog before, but they give such a great performance I couldn't resist adding them again for your enjoyment....



And here is a gypsy version of the Tarantella Calabrese that should make you want to dance!



For more T's visit here at ABC Wednesday, with thanks to Mrs. Nesbitt and her kind helpers.

The last few days have brought a little of this, a bit of that, a smidgin of nostalgia, an earthy fragrance

redolent of the garden, and when I contemplated them all together

behold!  a lovely potpourri!

I was tidying the book shelves at the Bargain Centre when I ran across a book which

immediately leapt into my hands, and stirred up memories of days when I read avidly the author's

views of life, of marriage, of love and friendship.  Small notes in the margins, underlined paragraphs,

and where had these cherished books disappeared to?

Merle Shain, the Canadian journalist and author, died in 1989, about the time we left the farm and moved to town and life changed.  I can remember giving a copy of her book "Hearts that we Broke Long Ago" to someone I felt would benefit from it, but how did she disappear from my heart's radar screen with only a faint trace of lavender for remembrance until this book came once again into my hands?

"People who are loving toward each other set up their marriages so that it is possible for both partners to get what they need from life and so that no one is expected to give up his needs to meet those of his spouse. And when their partner meets one of their needs they accept it as a gift, instead of viewing each unmet one as if it were a betrayal".

When I read this particular quote the sweet smell of roses drifted up from the basket of potpourri.

Today we took the car to Penticton to have its oil changed and we seemed to be bathed in an aura of the still tender greens of the grassy hillsides and the springtime shades of new leaves.

May has been wet, but our reward is these lovely green hills

and gardens that are bursting with delight at the cool weather and draughts of water that feed their thirsty roots.

I think this special gift of green hills and burgeoning gardens must account for the lovely smell of bergamot....

A birthday visit with a granddaughter who 'lives away' and who we don't see too often any more was especially precious this afternoon, and it must have been the aroma of the lilies of the valley that enveloped me as we talked and embraced and as I enjoyed her happiness with life.

I came home and made my favourite stir fry, - chicken and onions and colourful strips of peppers, with a hint of lemon and pineapple on a bed of rice, - hoping that Charles will adopt it as one of his favourites too.  It adds that beautiful fruity fragrance to the potpourri.

My nose is twitching in anticipation of tomorrow's addition to this mix of lovely smells.

Skywatch Friday

A variety of skies in the Similkameen this week....

On the 21at a brilliant rainbow with pots of gold at both ends!

Showers in the distant hills

Painterly early morning sky

A gentle sunrise

Moody, brooding skies that turned on the taps of heaven...

For more interesting sky pictures visit here at Skywatch Friday.

Morning in the Garden.

I am late waking, and when my eyes do open I quickly slip out of bed and meet Caspar at the bedroom door, - legs crossed!

I carry him down the stairs and he heaves a gentle sigh of relief...   I carry him up the stairs, put him on the couch and he curls around himself and begins to snore gently. I push the button on the coffee maker and decide not to go back to bed.

It is so quiet and still in the sweet morning air, - too early for birds, - the sun is hiding behind the eastern hills, every morning rising a little further north.  Miss Callie and I take coffee on the deck, camera at the ready as we contemplate the valley and the long shadows where the sun strikes the top of K mountain.

Eventually I wander down the garden path, looking with great satisfaction at the cleared and ordered space around the lilies, and the good start I have made at demolishing the ubiquitous mint bed.  When it is cleared of every small iota of white root I plan to plant a yellow rose in its place.

I note the first pink peony unfurling its sails along a veritable sea of bobbing buds.

There is only one lone poppy in bloom, but the iris have grown tall and stately and very, very beautiful.

The peony tree is past its best shelf date, but who can deny its slightly blowzy mature beauty.

The pretty pink climbing rose takes pride of place for now.

Along with the new blooms on the clematis.

I wander off into the pasture, keeping an eye out for the homing pigeon who first came to visit last week, and who I thought had left for home after a long day's rest.  However, he has not yet become oriented and stops in two or three times a day to nibble a little corn and have a drink of water.

Morning shadows across the green meadow, and the hawthorn tree is opening its pale pink blooms.

Callie has joined me, and we linger by the fence awhile where the meadow rue marks Miss Roo's grave, - she who could not settle here but yearned for the Lost garden and lost her life returning to it.  

I see how nice the new growth is on the evergreens we brought with us when we moved and think that perhaps this will be the year they 'release' and are no longer babies but grow straight and tall and true.

I look back at the house and feel blessed to be here...

under this painterly sky and with this lovely small garden to lose myself in, with dirt on my hands and the wonderful fragrance of the green things growing - to say nothing of the challenge of the sea holly and the violets and the Chinese lantern and the yarrow and the lamb's ears who all have this passionate wanderlust and love to move house each spring, putting down roots  and nudging their new neighbours to make room for themselves.

I see that the flax is gradually opening its heavenly blue eyes, with fresh bits of sky to decorate today's garden. 

The sun rose over the hill a while ago, and now it's time to go and start the day indoors.

I turn for a last look at the garden

those cool shadows on the hills which still wear their springtime greenery

and I really don't think, - I just feel the blessed presence of it all.

ABC Wednesday

The letter for this week is S

S is for Sonata

Here is Artur Rubinstein playing the 3rd movement of Beethoven's Opus 57 Appassionata Sonata, Allegro Non Troppo.

Enjoy this lovely interlude of passionate music......



For more interpretations of the letter S visit ABC Wednesday here, with thanks to Mrs. Nesbitt and her faithful helpers.

The Day of Pentecost

"And when the day of Pentecost was fully come, they were all with one accord in one place. And suddenly there came a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind, and it filled all the house where they were sitting. And there appeared unto them cloven tongues like as of fire, and it sat upon each of them. And they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and began to speak with other tongues, as the Spirit gave them utterance."  Acts


Today we celebrated Pentecost  with a spirit of joy, the wearing of red to represent the cloven tongues of fire, the awareness of the Spirit which permeates the world with love, balloons, the doves of peace, lovely music and a birthday cake for the Church (which, ironically, in these days is being so grievously assaulted by zealot atheists).


Among the hymns we sang was this beautiful and haunting music written by Daniel Iverson in 1926, both words and the tune, ' Living God'.



A small congregation (sigh) - big Rodeo weekend here in the Similkameen and a Cowboy Church under a big striped tent!

Pentecost is an important festival in the life of the Christian Church, but unlike Christmas and Easter it has not yet been secularized or even recognized.......and yet its message of the Spirit of love and peace and grace is so vital to the survival of our civilization, and even of our species.

Whitsun Day

by Christina Rossetti

'When the Day of Pentecost was fully come'

At sound as of rushing wind, and sight as of fire,

Lo flesh and blood made spirit and fiery flame,

Ambassadors in Christ's and the Father's Name,

To woo back a world's desire.

These men chose death for their life and shame for their boast,

For fear courage, for doubt intuition of faith,

Chose love that is strong as death and stronger than death

In the power of the Holy Ghost.

Skywatch Friday

Sunlit clouds. late on a Saturday afternoon in the Simikameen.

Monday, in the early evening, the clouds come rolling across the hills and into the valley.

It's been a varied week as far as skies go, - sometimes kindly, sometimes moody and occasionally terribly exciting with crashing thunder and large sheets of lightening causing small dogs and nervous ladies to shiver and shake a bit.  Thunder and (f)rightening a friend calls these night time episodes.

For more skies visit here, at Skywatch Friday.

A wonderful exhilarating thing happened on my way to town!!

I am approaching a turn in the road at the top of a hill that falls away into the valley.  Suddenly, about ten feet in front of me and almost touching the road, a magnificent american bald eagle swoops in from the north, crossing my path.  There is another car behind me, - I cannot stop, but as I look into the rear view mirror I see that the bird has circled and is swooping once again across the road between me and the car behind!!

The heart of some poor small creature must be filling with terror, but my own is beating with excitement.

You will see that this photo was captured by Ted Steinke at some other time and in some other place, but it depicts the speed and the ferocity with which the eagle swoops.

I turn the corner and continue down the town hill, filled with awe at the serendipity of being in the right place at the right time, and the magnificence of this splendid bird.

At the bottom of the hill I look back up the valley, but the eagle is nowhere to be seen, and I know that the next time he hovers in my vicinity I will be running to get the camera and he will be a mile high in the bright blue sky, making his way in great circles and swoops southward, down the valley, and I will gaze in wonderment.......and envy?

ABC Wednesday

The letter of note this week is R


R is for RAVELRY


Ravelry is a free social networking enterprise, beta-launched in May 2007. It functions as an organizational tool for a variety of fiber arts including knitting, crocheting, spinning and weaving. Members share projects, ideas, and their collection of yarn, fibre, and tools via various components.  As of January 2010, Ravelry had over 600,000 members worldwide. (from Wikipedia)

Francoise Duparc (1726-78) Woman Knitting, n.d.

Husband and wife Casey and Jessica Forbes founded Ravelry with the idea of creating a web presence for all fiber artists.

Ravelry is a place for knitters, crocheters, designers, spinners, and dyers to keep track of their yarn, tools and pattern information, and look to others for ideas and inspiration. It has been a most successful venture, with what appears to me to be pretty sophisticated underpinnings - Ruby and Rail technologies for creating research and distribution.  And all this for what was once the humble knitter, crocheter, weaver, or spinner - fiber arts which have now reached heights beyond crafts into gorgeous creativity. YouTube is loaded with videos based on Ravelry activities, many of them giving instructions in the whys and wherefores of fiber art. Here is one about an event that I would love to have attended!

If you are a fibre artist and don't know about Ravelry it's great fun to surf the net and see what you can catch....


For other versions of the letter R spin off over to ABC Wednesday here.

A welcome visitor..

A pretty sky to greet us as Caspar and I opened the door for our five a.m. business trip.

We had gone to bed amongst great excitement in the heavens - dazzling sheets of lightening followed almost immediately by thunderous drum rolls that echoed around the house.

Wild weather for man and beast, and also birds!

Mid-morning and Charles came looking for me so that I could meet our newest feathered visitor and perhaps offer a little sustenance to this iridescent homing pigeon.

I can imagine this bird, steady on course for home and then running into such confusion in the skies that  he would surely tire and perhaps lose direction.  Homing pigeons have such an affinity with the earth, either magnetically or with a built in direction finder, and I'm sure with all these magical attributes this particular pigeon would know - somehow - that right below him lived a lady who just two short weeks ago posted a blog entitled P for Pigeons, and that he would be assured of a hearty welcome and a good rest before he continued his journey.

Which he did this evening, after a long afternoon nap on the roof of the travel trailer cum weaving studio.  He moved first to the ridge of the house, and after gathering himself together and focusing all that magical equipment he carries with him, with a whir and a wave of the wings he was off!

I wished him bon boyage, - a safe trip and a loving welcome from those who watched for him at home!

Peonies

We are busy in the garden making a small corner for a cutting garden where we will plant the fragrant plants of the evening, white and ethereal and smelling ever so yummy!!!  The ghostly Nicotiana and the lovely evening scented stock;   the gorgeous stephanotis and some humble sweet alyssum for edging.

We stop for coffee, and I  wander down the garden path to where the peonies are starting to bloom.  Indeed, the ferny Oriental peony is already beginning to fade, - their beauty is so short lived.  In our garden the buttercups that accompany them continue their golden blooms for another few weeks, and push further into the surrounding Iris.

Just today the peony tree we planted when we moved here five years ago has started its annual blossoming, - every year a few more blooms.

These peonies are a forerunner to the grand opening of the passionate peony buds on the plants that we brought with us when we moved and that are now becoming familiar and at home in this new hillside garden.

Watch for them, - another week and the garden will be heavy with their fragrance and  beauty.

The soft lovely images that Mary Oliver evokes in her poem 'Peonies'  will keep us content until that time.

This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready

to break my heart

as the sun rises,

as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers

and they open ---

pools of lace,

white and pink ---

and all day the black ants climb over them,

boring their deep and mysterious holes

into the curls,

craving the sweet sap,

taking it away

to their dark, underground cities ---

and all day

under the shifty wind,

as in a dance to the great wedding,

the flowers bend their bright bodies,

and tip their fragrance to the air,

and rise,

their red stems holding

all that dampness and recklessness

gladly and lightly,

and there it is again ---

beauty the brave, the exemplary,

blazing open.

Do you love this world?

Do you cherish your humble and silky life?

Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?

Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden,

and softly,

and exclaiming of their dearness,

fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,

with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling,

their eagerness

to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are

nothing, forever?

Skywatch Friday

May 14th, 2010

Similkameen Skies

The worn silvery branches of a tree, long dead, silhouetted against a May sky.

Meanwhile, back at the pond, summer clouds reflected in still waters.

For more skies from around the world visit here, at Skywatch Friday.

A lovely bush we bought for our sixty fifth wedding anniversary to plant in a corner of the garden, - an Exochord Macrantha called "The Bride" Pearl Bush.

And here is another picture of a Bride taken sixty-five years ago today on the morning of our wedding day.  I call it The Pensive Bride.

Was I reluctant, - oh no, never - but it was a big step I was taking moving away from family and friends with this handsome man who just twelve days ago was arriving in New York Harbour, returning from service overseas with the RCAF/RAF.

We celebrated quietly today.  A drive, then out for dinner.  When we make Seventy we will have a party!  Fireworks and a live band and a carnival, as one of our grandsons suggests!

Hope you can join us......

ABC Wednesday

The letter this week is Q

Q is for QUICKSILVER
Quicksilver is the archaic name for Mercury, but what an enchanting name it is, calling up all sorts of wonderful images of Little People, Middle Earth, shining magical quickness, - imagine if the God Mercury were to be called Quicksilver.........

How very apt and beautifully descriptive of this winged messenger of the gods.

See what other surprises Q holds for you at ABC Wednesday, here.