This and That

The week has passed in a haze of smoke, some days more dense than others as the wind shifts.

On Wednesday morning the day dawned clear and bright, but soon there were thunderclouds forming to the north and evening brought a great crashing and lightning show that stole away all power from the valley for three hours.

We hunted up the candles and the LED lights and sat out on the deck in the candlelight, watching the sheet lightning and listening to the complaints of the thunder, rumbling off in the distance.  Just as we went to bed the power came back on, so I was able to have my pre-sleep read by lamplight.   I have a Seven Day book from the library, - Joanna Trollope's 'The Other Family'.  I am enjoying it in snatches and have put away 'Surprised by Hope' by N.T. Wright, a book that requires a little more thought and mindful reading.

There are a couple of fires in neighbouring valleys, and occasionally we hear the helicopters and the water bombers, but seldom see them through the smoke.

The days pass quickly and when I realize we are a week into August I am needled into picking up my knitting to resume the sock marathon.   The sock stash grows and then diminishes when birthdays arrive and it is so handy to parcel up a pair of handknit footwear.  It is a project for which my enthusiasm also grows and diminishes, and I hid it all away during the heat of July, but now I have cast on again!

I was also seduced into playing the piano every day when Charles remarked that he hadn't heard any Scott Joplin in a long while and I thought 'Yes - we are missing that joy from our lives' so now I have made room for some practising  in the morning as he gets ready to go out and do the things he really feels must be done!!!
This week involving the tractor!!!

Was he always this disciplined about accomplishing something important every day?  Surely I remember the wonderful cool mornings we went golfing, and the Saturdays we spent at yard sales, and fishing, and bridge games......well, we can't golf any more, and we don't need anything to tempt us at yard sales, and the friends we played bridge with have all been lost to either death or dementia, so I guess these accomplishments are a good compensation.  And they do contribute to our togetherness as I don my Go-fer Hat.

Yesterday a friend needed some help sorting out medications so Charles came with me and we went on a little camera oriented drive, around the back benches and through the ranching meadows.

In the evening I went out to take a picture of a cloud that had caught Charles' eye, and ended up strolling through the garden, noting how it is changing from a summer garden with all its lovely Monet colours into the shades of fall.

I am off to pick some white phlox and Prairie Princess roses for the altar tomorrow.

and to take some coffee to the man on the lawn tractor....

Skywatch Friday

August 6th, 2010

Similkameen Skies

A tender sunrise from long ago

Sunrise on the first of August

And at noon, as the smoke started to drift in from neighbouring wildfires.

For more sky pictures from around the world click here to visit

Skywatch Friday.

ABC Wednesday

This week's letter is C

C is for costermonger

Costermonger

Oscar Rejlander

From Wikipedia -  Costermonger, or simply Coster, is a street seller of fruit (apples, etc.) and vegetables, in London and other British towns. They were ubiquitous in mid-Victorian England, and some are still found in markets. As usual with street-sellers, they would use a loud sing-song cry or chant to attract attention. Their cart might be stationary at a market stall, or mobile (horse-drawn or wheelbarrow).

Louise Moillon - The Fruit and Vegetable Costermonger

Here is an excerpt from Dick Sullivan's Web Site

"Victoria's reign was the costermonger's heyday even though the word had been coined in the early sixteenth century (coster is a corruption of costard, a kind of apple).  Mayhew gave us a detailed snapshot of their lives, habits and beliefs in a series of twice weekly articles for the Morning Chronicle in the late 1840s. Later they were published as London Labour and the London Poor. Costermongers qualified because they were far from rich. Mayhew thought there were between thirty and forty thousand of them, quite a large number in a city of under two and a half million. There was no mystery about what did; they bought fruit and vegetables wholesale and sold them retail. Technically they were hawkers since only a minority had fixed stalls or standings. The rest cried out their wares as they walked the streets with barrows, donkey carts, or shallows (trays carried on the head).In the 1840s they accounted for ten percent of the cheaper produce sold in Covent Garden's wholesale market, and a good third of Billingsgate Fish. Earnings ranged from an average ten shillings a week to thirty at a time when a collier's wages was around twenty."  more

This site is an excellent source of knowledge about a colourful period in London's history, and an eye opener about the social conditions of the times and the lives of the costermongers.


There are still costermongers on London's streets, but I doubt that their living is as tenuous as that of their forebearers.


In 1875 Henry Croft, who grew up in an orphanage and graduated to being a municipal road sweeper and rat catcher got in with a group of Costermongers.  'They wore highly decorated clothes to distinguish themselves from the other market traders and to make themselves look a bit flashier. This involved decorating their trousers and waistcoats with a row of pearl buttons down the seams. The costers looked out for one another and if another coster was in need, they would have a 'whip round' for him to get him some money.


Henry was influenced by the caring attitude of the costers, and decided he wanted to raise money to help the poor and the orphaned. He thought that the best way to raise money would be to draw attention to himself. So taking the idea from the costers, he went a bit further and covered a suit entirely with pearl buttons.

He became an instant attraction and was approached by many hospitals and churches to help raise money for the poor, deaf, dumb and blind. Henry worked hard for these charities but he wanted to raise more money, so he asked the costermongers for help.

Eventually there was pearly family for every London borough and the Pearly monarchy began.

Henry Croft's family still carries on the tradition, his great-granddaughter is Pearly Queen of Somer's Town."

On the first Sunday in October the Pearly Kings and Queens gather for a Harvest Festival at the London Guild Hall, from where they parade to St. Mary-le-Bow, the London church whose bells determine who is a true Cockney (you must be born within sound of these bells).

For more interesting C words click here to go to ABC Wednesday, with thanks to Denise Nesbitt and all who work at maintaining this popular meme.

White Rabbits, White Rabbits on the first day of August.

I had every intention of murmuring their name when I first woke up, but I awakened twenty-two minutes late, and so I said, quite clearly, - 'Oh, Shoot!'  I slipped into my short red robe and Caspar met me at the bedroom door, - amazingly the sweet dog had been patient and we were able to make it outside for our first business trip of the day.  The sun lingered just under the horizon and touched the clouds gently with light.

Perhaps the White Rabbits will be as accommodating and all my August wishes will come true.......

With the first day of August comes slightly cooler weather, and the long range forecast is for rain off and on for the next two weeks.  The Valley is smoky from fires near and far,

 - dark blue clouds lit up with flashes of lightning in the late evening did nothing to lessen the wildfire dangers in the province, but sometime during the night if must have rained as the garden was freshly watered and refreshed this morning.

A stroll through the garden as July packed her bags reveals a gentle slide into autumn colours and a farewell to true summertime growth.

The sunflowers who creep in uninvited, but always welcome, are stretching their sunny faces to the sun.

And the barn flowers that were banished this spring from the middle of the garden are 

brightening up the fenceline. 

The white phlox are budding whilst the bee balm bravely sways in her tattered tutu.

These lovely yellow daisies will be with us until frost comes in September or October

and the roses are blooming again

The perennial sweet peas require constant deadheading, - as does the lamb's ear that crops up in unexpected places and provides a honey bar for the bees with it's long splendid spiky blooms.

Each season is preceded by lovely omens of what is to come, and as the grasses seed 

and the autumn sedum and mums hint at the splendour of their beautiful colours

 we seem to prepare ourselves for the slow quiet days of Fall.

"As Summer into Autumn slips

And yet we sooner say

"The Summer" than "the Autumn," lest

We turn the sun away,

And almost count it an Affront

The presence to concede

Of one however lovely, not

The one that we have loved --

So we evade the charge of Years

On one attempting shy

The Circumvention of the Shaft

Of Life's Declivity."

-   Emily Dickinson, As Summer Into Autumn Slips

Skywatch Friday

No interesting Similkameen skies all week, -  until last night, and then pure golden beauty in the midst of a wild thunder and lightning storm.

It was a hot, humid day with a few desultory thunderheads around.

It started to rain up valley, to the west

but the sun still shone on the toe of K Mountain

 As the storm moved down the valley the light changed to gold, even as the rain started to fall

A faint rainbow reached up from the mountain in an arc across the sky

towards the north there was still blue sky but the clouds were suffused with the light of the setting sun

the golden glow in air and clouds

eventually the storm moved off over the hills towards the east, all of the time being guided by the grumbling of the thunder and bright flashes of lightning

the heavy rain was doubling welcome, first to cool the air and secondly to inhibit lightning strikes and forest fires, and to aid in controlling the fire high in the mountains in the Lower Valley

the garden thought it was just pure bliss, freshly washed with cooling rain

For more glorious views of the sky from around the world

click here to go to Skywatch Friday, with thanks to all who organize this wonderful meme

ABC Wednesday

The letter of note this week is B

On a literary note, B is for "Boys, Bombs and Brussels Sprouts" a 'knees-up wheels-up chronicle of WW11'; a tale of J. Douglas Harvey's wartime adventures with Bomber Command and the Squadron cooks who forever put a blight on Brussels Sprouts for thousands and thousands of servicemen.

A copy of this book sat on Charles' reading shelf until he loaned it to another reading enthusiast, - alas, never to be returned.  It was 'a joyous' book, written by a young man who was only twenty when he piloted 31 sorties over the Continent, and was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.

Another literary B is a sophisticated classification of Canadian Prime Ministers written by Will Ferguson, "Bastards and Boneheads,  Canada's Glorious Leaders Past and Present"

Robin Ryan of Vancouver, British Columbia, reviews this book quite adequately.....

"Ferguson does a wonderful job making Canadian history, traditionally perceived as a dull topic, into an enthralling tale of a budding nation, people, and the strange contradiction that is inherent to all things Canadian. The language is simple, yet the ideas are very critical. The humoUr is terrific, yet Ferguson pulls no punches in condemning some of Canada's more shameful history. An excellent primer for anybody interested in Canadian history."


You may not agree with his opinions, but it is humourous, a good read and well researched.


If you were one of the servicemen who only allow brussels sprouts on the dinner table at Christmas time, for tradition's sake, - here is a recipe for the tiny, overboiled, grey-looking cabbages that may change your mind.


Brussels Sprouts Cheesy Casserole Recipe


Cook 2 10 oz. packages of frozen Brussels sprouts according to package directions; drain and cut sprouts into fourths - set aside.


Combine 2 slightly beaten eggs with 3/4 cup of soft bread crumbs, 1 can of cream of mushroom soup, 1/2 cup of shredded cheddar cheese and 2 tbsp of chopped onion, - also a dash of pepper.


Fold in the sprouts and transfer to a casserole.  Combine another 3/4 cup of soft crumbs with 2 tbsp of melted butter and sprinkle over the top of the sprouts.


Bake uncovered in a 350 degree oven for 35 minutes, - it is bound to change your jaundiced view of Brussels Sprouts for the better!


For more B entries visit ABC Wednesday here, and prepare to be educated and entertained.


  

What I am reading, and why, - and when for heaven's sake!!

I keep hearing about those lazy, hazy days of summer, - the kind that finds you whiling away the time under a shady tree, listening to the cicadas with a cool drink in your hand and your finger holding the place in your book where you stopped reading and closed your eyes for just a wee little nap.

I suspect in this valley they might be mythical times, -  farmers are not inclined to lazy days.  But hope springs eternal, and just in case I might turn a corner and run into one of these lazy, hazy days of summer and be caught unprepared I make sure there is a good supply of Orange Brandy and Ginger-ale in the cupboard and read the lists of summer reading materials recommended by authors and reviewers and journalists and all sorts of people who have time to sit out under the acacia tree and listen to the crickets sing.

This results in trips to the library and sideways glances from Charles as I tote home treasures that may or may not get read.  He knows how many times he has come to bed to find my eyes closed, the book fallen upon my chest, my glasses still hooked around my ears and probably only a page or two read before sleep slips up on me.

Nevertheless!!!  I have just finished The Infinities by John Banville (winner of the Man Booker Prize).  It is a tale told by the god Hermes, concerning the relationships of the inhabitants of  Mount Olympus amongst themselves and between the gods and mortals; in particular the rather disfunctional Godley family.  Lovely prose and lots of humour, - I enjoyed it immensely in the many snatches it took me to read it.

I now have beside my bed two wonderful books written by Alexander McCall Smith - one a book of short stories written in the 1990's  (Heavenly Dates), and the other the first book in his new series, Corduroy Mansions.

I read McCall Smith because of his gentle and civilized way of writing, his great imaginative stories and his tender and compassionate humour.

For different reasons I am reading Lynne Olson's 'Citizens of London' in which she 'tells the story of the Americans who did the New World credit by giving their all to help Churchill's Britain hold on against Hitler".
I have picked up the book and read pages while passing through to do something else, and what I have read intrigues me and casts a different light to the one I had always thought shone on British-American relations, - but then I am inclined to be a bit naive.

Which probably explains why I am reading the last book that goes to bed with me, - 'Surprised by Hope, by  N.T. Wright, Bishop of Durham.  Having read Marcus Borg's account of the modern politicalization of Religion I was curious to discover the Anglican slant on this subject.  The Bishop has written a book in collaboration with Borg, 'The Meaning of Jesus' and I am wondering if Jesus is taking on a new role of Social Activist, whilst his divinity is abandoned.  It concerns me that Christianity, ( from which the moral structure of our society has risen) grows weaker, while the Muslim faith grows ever stronger in the western countries.

Will the book have any answers to the 'By Chance or By Design' debate?  I rather doubt it.

And that is my summer reading list.  A little heavy for the time I have to devote to it.  If any of you happen upon a hazy, lazy day - please send it my way!!!

Skywatch Friday

Sunset in the Similkameen 

And the moon hangs like a pendant under an apricot cloud in the south western sky

To the East the sun's rays catch the top of a potential thunderhead with a heavenly glow

and to the North a few cloudy fish swim in a subdued sky

Some nights, after a hot cloudless day, the sun goes to bed weary with its constant blazing, and doesn't bother putting on a show, but when a few clouds linger around he is seduced into creating  ethereal fireworks for us mortals.

For more wonderful skies visit here to reach Skywatch.

ABC Wednesday

We are off on another round and the letter this week is A

I had thought of Aspidistra, as in the greatest in the world a la Gracie Fields.

But when our son from down the hill brought us a beautiful basket of freshly picked Apricots

I decided to don my Apron and make some Apricot pies,  and I will give you the recipe  - anon

But before I do, a word about Aprons.  They have been looked on as practical, humdrum necessities designed for keeping the homemaker clean and tidy, but times are changing and the aprons of today are stylish and pretty and fun to wear.

I was very surprised a few years ago when a gentlemen with whom I am acquainted confided to me that 

.he was quite attracted to ladies in Aprons.

I was not sure if he was referring to this kind of Apron that his mother might have worn when he was a toddler and she was his best girl.

Or if some sophisticated lady had caught his eye in one of these glamorous Aprons

Or perhaps he really had fantasies of naughty French Maids who were costumed thusly.....

In any event, here is the recipe for delicious Apricot Pie

(we had some for lunch)

Find one son who will bring you enough Appetising Apricots to make a Pie

Make your best pie pastry with which to line a 9 inch pie plate

Prepare 6 cups of Apricots by halving them, sprinkling them with 2 tsps of fresh lemon juice, and then incorporate them with the following mixture...

1/2 cup granulated sugar

1/4 cup light brown sugar

1/4 cup all purpose flour

1/4 tsp cinnamon

1/8 tsp nutmeg

pour the apricots into the bottom crust and decorate with 2 tbsps of butter, cut into 1/4 inch cubes

top with the remaining pie crust, crimp to seal and cut slits in the top for vents.

Bake for 35 to 40 minutes at 425 F until golden and bubbly

Sprinkle the top of the pie with 1 tsp white sugar as soon as it comes out of the oven.

If you can't wait for it to cool serve warm with ice cream

while you are enjoying it pop over to ABC Wednesday, here, 

and see what other goodies the letter A has to offer.