Painting the picket fence, tender leaves and buttercups

I only do this job in bits and pieces, and have started with the inside of the fence, the part we see from the window that was all dingy, even though it wasn't too noticeable when the birds were gathered on the ground and around the bird feeders, and your eyes were not focused on the fence.

But when you put on your 'company' eyes, oh my, - it called out for some attention!  And so I went to the Irly Bird store and bought a couple of gallons of white recycled outside paint, and doing a couple of hours at a time over the last few days I have it looking quite respectable.  From the house side......

From the street side, where walkers and talkers pass by, it still has patches where the paint has worn off and it looks sad, shabby and neglected, so tomorrow, when it is warm and the sun will be shining, I will pretty up those pickets that are seen by the world in general!

Painting in patches often leaves you with extra paint in the bottom of the can, and I have been using this up on the steps and the garden furniture, and to clean the brushes I have been squeezing out the last bit and decorating the wheelbarrow.

And I spruced up the coffee bench and table with a new coat of blue paint....

I know this sounds quite mundane, - what is exciting about painting the picket fence??  Huckleberry Finn passes through my mind......  Mark Twain certainly did well by writing about painting fences.  However, I must be content with finding a great deal of satisfaction in welcoming spring this way, and look forward to lazy summer days when I can potter around or read, or day dream, without being nagged by raggedy tagged fences and unhappy looking benches and tables

So after a few days of brushes and paint buckets I welcomed an invitation to have Sunday brunch at the Grist Mill with an old friend and her daughter, and a further invitation to accompany them on a drive south through the Chapaka Indian Reserve to the U.S. border.

I was amazed that even ten miles south of us Spring had set up an encampment, planted buttercups along the roadside and tenderly opened the green leaves of spring on poplars and willows and small bushes.

Foliage at the Grist Mill.   Changes as we travel south.....

 Past vineyards  and high peaks beyond the Similkameen mountains that tower, snow covered.

To where the river winds under the Red Bridge to the Reserve

and along the meadows  - not cattle in the distance but bee hives,

 wintering on the Reserve

We reach the small Roman Catholic Church that lies close to the Border

I couldn't get the square bell tower into the picture from the back seat of the car, and would have

got out to take a better picture, but there were people there and I didn't want to intrude.

Here is a small picture with all the car paraphernalia included.......

and here are the buttercups, although I know you will have to search to find them and my

Photoshop skills aren't great enough to make them more visible.  And I really mucked up 

the blues and greens trying!!!!!

It was a lovely afternoon - we came home and had tea and exotic shortbreads from the Bakery.

Linden Gardens

ABC Wednesday
April 2nd, 2014

The letter is the elegant L, which stands today for Lovely Linden Gardens

Located about 10 minutes south of Penticton in the orcharding community of Kaleden, Linden Gardens was a pioneer fruit farm.for seventy-five years before the 1990's. 

Now it is a most resplendent nine acre garden with flowers and trees and shrubs, ponds and streams and winding pathways, and at its entrance The Frog City Restaurant which serves home made bread, soups and salads for a snack for garden lovers and wonderful full course meals for celebrations!  A perfect spot for weddings, anniversaries, birthdays and reunions!

The Class of '42, (Penticton High)  before its numbers diminished, held their last two annual reunions there, and these are pictures taken in May of 2012 as we wandered through this beautiful acreage.

And some of the graduates of the Class, seventy years on, - still dear friends bound by memories and close association through the years.

I think small town schools are perfect places for fostering Long Lasting Liasons, and I count some
of Charles' classmates of '42 amongst my dearest friends.

Many thanks to Roger and Denise of ABC Wednesday.  Visit here for more interesting L's!!!

A Different Pathway Home

I rose early this morning with thoughts of baking uppermost in my mind.  The recipes were laid out on the kitchen table, and some of the ingredients.- I was making 'squares' (or do you call them 'slices' ) for a funeral reception tomorrow.  Because I have passed the time when I can scurry around with the younger ladies, setting tables, making sandwiches, feeding multitudes and cleaning up after I now concentrate on leisurely baking goodies, and usually promise two.  So this morning I made a nice lemon concoction and a pan of rich chocolate brownies.

But what  has really been on my mind the last few days is a wonderful trip we ( son Sid, and I) made through the hills and lakes above Okanagan Falls as we wended our way homeward after seeing the bone man who did such a marvelous job in mending my broken wrist.

There is the quick way to get home from Penticton, along the highways, but there are also a few ways that are even more of an adventure, where small lakes appear beside roads winding through the hills before they connect up with the highway, and we chose one of these lovely drives on Tuesday.

As we turned off the highway we looked back upon the meadows and mountains of the Okanagan Valley.

and soon came to Green Lake, still rimmed with the beautiful dried grasses of autumn and swimming with Mallards who came closer to shore as we stopped to admire the clear green spring waters.

Some of the hills have been turned into vast vineyards and there are vestiges of old homesteads, 

built by early settlers.

We came eventually to Mahoney lake, located on the Mahoney Ecological Reserve and protected by a post and rail fence from damage by motor vehicles.

Mahoney is an extreme Saline Lake, well known around the world in ecological circles.    It is 18 m deep and occupies a kettle basin of glacial origin - a 'meromictic lake' in which much of the water remains unmixed with the main water mass and which fails to have the typical spring and fall overturns. A layer of purple sulphur bacteria extends completely across the lake at about 7 metres in depth and it is said to be the finest example of a purple sulphate bacterial plate known to occur in the world.  There is a small opening in the surrounding fence to allow 'foot' visitors to read this information on an information plaque

Continuing on we reached the Willowbrook Road, a more inhabited agricultural area where the roads join, but further on is the White Lake Ecological Reserve where we stopped to take a picture of the Lake. 

 As we rolled down the windows of the SUV we were delighted to hear the first Meadowlark song of the season, - not just one meadowlark, but a conversation!!!!  Marvelous!  It is a family tradition that he/she who hears the first meadowlark of the spring is mightily blessed!!!!  As we intrude on the meadows with our homes and tightly planted orchards the meadowlark is not as plentiful or generous with its beautiful melody so this really warmed our hearts!!!

Off in the distance lies the White Lake Observatory about which I have posted in the dim past,

 and likely will again, sometime.

We pass by typical rock formations and follow the winding road that borders Twin Lakes and the golf course of many memories.....

I miss the wonderful leisurely drives Charles and I used to take, along with the camera, but I appreciate the generosity of time. the conversations and the empathy our sons show in traveling with me 

through the byways and back country roads.  Good fellows all....!

Keremeos Columns

ABC Wednesday
March 26th, 2014

The letter is K for Keremeos Columns

Picture by Sid Finch

The Keremeos Columns are tall columns of basalt resulting from Volcanic activity 

some thirty million years ago,  located in the Similkameen hills and
overlooking the town of Keremeos.

They are thirty meters high and form a l00 meter-wide cliff with more or less regular fractures of basalt which followed further cooling of the already crystallized liquid lava, 

just like mud cracks after a puddle has dried.

These  volcanic monuments of slowly cooled lava with the characteristic vertically hexagonal columnar jointing of basalt  loom out of the surrounding forest.

This is the same geological phenomenon that has formed the Giant's Causeway in Northern Ireland

and the Devil's Tower in Wyoming.

It is possible to drive to within fairly close proximity to the Columns, 

but permission must be obtained from the owner of the gate that accesses the road.

If you choose to walk it is a three to four hour hike through forest and meadows,

uphill all the way!!!

The spectacular view of the valley below, and the grandeur of the columns themselves

makes it all worth while.

For more interpretations of the letter K klick here to visit

ABC Wednesday, with thanks to Roger and Denise

and all their visiting helpers.

This and That

It's like being on a roller coaster!!!  Or inside a kaleidoscope!

April is fickle, but March is just totally confused and can't make up it's mind what the day shall be. So it vacillates.....

The catkins grow longer each day, fringing the branches of the hazelnut with a golden glow in the sunlight, and quivering gracefully when the March winds pass through.

I am lured outside by the sunlight, which may or may not last as long as my energy and enthusiasm for tidying beds and raking leaves and poking carefully around the little dry sticks left on the perennials, looking for signs that something is stirring!!!  Especially with the new bed of peonies, - did I plant them too deeply?  Did their roots have time to settle in before November brought the frost and snow?

And somehow my enthusiasm exceeds my energy, and I remain outside, lost to time and indications of creaking knees, so that the whole garden operation results in days like this, spent indoors doing this and that and the other thing, while my knees recover.

I finish the thumb on my latest pair of fingerless gloves, made from Navajo plied singles

And I read a chapter of the Quick Read I brought home from the library the other day - The Invention of Wings by Sue Monk Kidd.  It is a novel inspired in part by the historic figure of Sarah Grimke who with her sister Angelina played a large part in advocating women's rights and the abolition of slavery, especially before the Civil War.  I am only on page 59 but expect the book to live up to the praises on its jacket.

I tinker with my new bedside CD player and radio, looking for a station that will carry me through the night with soft music, and bemoan the fact that it is no longer possible to get a multi disk CD player. Technology changes so quickly and I am continually learning about new ways of doing things from children and grandchildren when sometimes I would be quite content to just carry on with those things I am familiar with.

This afternoon the finals of the women's world curling championship will be on the Sports Channel, and the Canadian team are at the top and will be playing for Gold - I sent my timer so that I won't miss it!!  And search for a scarf pattern to cast on lovely lilac wool while I watch.....

This and that, and the day passes from sunshine to clouds, - a little shower, perhaps a cold March wind just passing through.  Lovely white clouds in the east - a dark curtain in the west that speaks of rain.  Never a chance to get bored with the weather in March......

I wonder if the sap is stirring yet

If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate,

If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun

And crocus fires are kindling one by one:

Sing, robin, sing:

I still am sore in doubt concerning spring.

Christina Rossetti

ABC Wednesday
March 19th, 2014

The Letter is J, for Jelly Roll

When we were young and newly married we were part of a Veterans' community involved in establishing a new orchard project on the Cawston Bench, - the Fairview Heights Irrigation District.

Amongst our many friends was a War Bride from the United Kingdom who brought with her two great accomplishments;  the knack of gathering together friends for wonderful parties, (most of which eventually included a round of Knees Up Mother Brown),  and her elegant and delicate way with Jelly Rolls!  They were the star of most tea parties, and she was generous with the recipe, - which follows....

Norma's Lemon Jelly Roll

4 eggs, separated
1 cup sugar
3 tbsp hot water
1 tsp vanilla
1 cup sifted flour
3/4 tsp baking powder
pinch of sale
1/4 tsp cream of tartar

Lightly beat the egg yolks, gradually beating in 1/2 cup of the sugar.  Continue beating at a high speed until thick and very pale in colour.  Beat in water and vanilla.

Sift together the flour, baking powder and salt, folding it into the yolk mixture.  Set aside and wash beater thoroughly.

In a large bowl beat the egg whites with the cream of tartar until peaks form; gradually beat in the remaining sugar until stiff shiny peaks form.  Fold the yolk mixture into the egg whites with a rubber spatula, turn into a prepared 15x10 inch jelly roll pan lined with parchment or waxed paper.

Bake at 325 F for 25 minutes, or until the top springs back when lightly touched.

****sprinkle icing sugar over tea towel; invert cake on  top.  Remove paper and gently roll the cake in the tea towel from the long side......   Let it cool on a rack.

Unroll the cake when it is cool and spread with Lemon Curd.  Re-roll and dust with icing sugar....

Put it on your best plate and prepare for accolades....

****this is the delicate part

If you're going to make this for a party here's a little bonus to make things even gayer!

For more interpretations of the letter J join Denise and Roger and all their helpers

  here at ABC Wednesday!

with many thanks.

Oh, this week has been quite perfect.  Blue skies every day, - warm sun and that lovely spring energy that urges you to be outside; tempts you into the garden even before the breakfast dishes are done!!!

I have been raking leaves, cutting down last year's dry flower stalks and poking around where

the earth is soft, looking for precocious pale green stubs, rich red folds of awakening peonies, and baby daggers amid last year's beds of iris.

Marvelous to have been released from gingerly treading on slippery ice to a springy step on dry ground!!

A wonderful drive on Sunday, over the Richter Pass and into the south Okanagan, 

looping up through Oliver and Okanagan Falls and then back on the

highway to the Similkameen.

All the baby calves and the beautiful naples yellow of the grasses, tinged with the emerging greens

of spring.  A sharp shinned hawk sits in the sun, with vigilant eye....

Too early, I know, but I imagined that aura of green that surrounds the poplar trees

before they burst into leaf!  And the gold of the willows as the sap rises!!

I have been very remiss in visiting in blogland, but the temptation to be outside 

has been overwhelming......

Tonight, as I came to the computer after a busy day outside, I found this

poem from Wendell Berry's  'Timbered Choir: The Sabbath Poems'

No, no, there is no going back.

Less and less you are

that possibility you were.

More and more you have become

those lives and deaths

that have belonged to you.

You have become a sort of grave

continuing much that was

and is no more in time, beloved

then, now and always.

And so you have become a sort of tree

standing over the grave.

Now, more than ever you can be

generous toward each day

that comes young, to disappear

forever, and yet remain

unaging in the mind

Every day you have less reason

not to give yourself away.

It seemed to describe so well and poignantly the space I now occupy.

Idioms

ABC Wednesday
March 12th, 2014

The letter this week is I
I for Idiom

An Idiom is a phrase where the words together have a meaning that is different from the dictionary definition of the individual words.

Phrases such as:  singing the blues

at your fingertips

nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs 

 jumping in with both feet

yesterday's news

spit nails

Well, you get the drift!!!

For more great interpretations of the letter I idle on over to ABC Wednesday, here, 

with thanks to Denise and Roger and all their intrepid and industrious helpers.

Harmonica

ABC Wednesday
The letter is H for Harmonica

Sometimes known as a mouth organ, the Harmonica is a free wind instrument used notably in the blues, American Folk music, jazz, country and rock and roll.

Although it may seem a simple instrument to those who pick it up and play a simple tune its construction is really quite sophisticated.  The varieties of Harmonicas are numerous and it has an interesting history, beginning in Vienna at the beginning of the 19th century.

The music produced by an artist and master of the harmonica is quite spellbinding.  Well, to me, anyway, who cannot perceive of making such glorious music with a tongue and puffs of air!

For more interesting takes on H visit here, at ABC Wednesday, with thanks to Roger and Dennis

 and all who help.

Dreams, Wind and Weather

Now that my wrist has healed nicely I am afflicted with itchy hands,
 - itching to get out into the garden, to prune the roses, to search for spring bulbs,
 to see how the compost is progressing and to rescue the hellebores from their icy bed.

It seems life is centered around the weather report,
and the weather man has nothing to say about spring
until at least the middle of March.

Two weeks ago Son #3 came to visit in the afternoon.  The sky was blue and the sun was shining and all was so promising that we rescued the small garden table and chairs from the shed and had tea on the deck!

I should have taken a picture, for now here is the selfsame table with a couple of inches of snowy icing decorating its glass top!!

and winter has returned for what we persist in thinking is 'one last visit' when really he is only reminding us that the polar vortex is in charge of his travel arrangements and he can drop in just any old time the spirit moves him - alas!!

This morning the sun tries bravely to shine through a thin cloud cover 

and in the west there is a little blue sky, but this, I fear, 

is just Winter cruelly teasing....

I am reminded that the spring after we moved to town from the farm (1988) we planted early potatoes on the 3rd of March!!!!

( in that lovely vegetable garden we had )

I sigh, and think of all the things that can keep me busy and optimistic for the next two weeks.  I am emptying drawers and being firmly stern with myself as I discard into a black bag for the Bargain Centre.

All the spring cleaning I do now will leave me free to indulge myself in the garden

whenever Winter decides to vacate.

I have some denim strips cut to bind the ends of rugs I made many years ago that are beginning to curl.

The wonderful Crazy Quilt duvet cover I made in early days needs mending and I have plans to turn it into a proper quilt and pass it on to the granddaughter to whom I promised it.

And the warp on the loom begs to be finished.......

Inside, the pussy willow branches I cut keep company with some late amaryllis that lay forlornly in a bin at the Garden Shop, passed over by earlier shoppers.  And I yearn for some forsythia branches

to brighten the house with their cheery yellow blooms.

I pour a cup of mid morning coffee and devour the gardening book I brought from the library -

'Green Places in Small Spaces'  by Kerwin Fischer, and I make plans

for a DIY garden tower made out of pots and sturdy gridded wire.

And perhaps a window box hung along the top rail of the porch, 

extravagant with petunias and flowing blue lobelia.

And veggies planted in among the raised bed flowers.

God meant every day to be lived to its fullest potential, I think

so here's to dreams, tidy drawers and 

clean woodwork!

ABC Wednesday
The letter is G for Guitarist

The famous guitarist shown here is Django Reinhardt, (1910-1953)  born at Liberchies, Belgium into the rambling lifestyle of his gypsy parents.  Django grew up 'in a world of contradictions, one foot in the bustling big city of Paris and the other in the age-old life of the nomadic gypsy'.

When he was twelve he was given a banjo/guitar by a neighbour who had notice his interest in music and he was soon astounding adults with his ability on the instrument.  By the time he was thirteen he began his musical career playing with a popular accordionist at a dance hall on the Rue Monge.

In 1928, at the age of eighteen, Django was in a devastating fire in the caravan he shared with his wife.  He was bedridden for eighteen months and the fourth and fifth fingers of his left hand were permanently curled towards his palm, due to the tendons shrinking from the heat of the fire.  He took his convalescing time to devise a new technique of soloing with only his index and middle fingers, a graceful and precise technique that is visible in the bottom right hand picture above.

He went on to have an amazing career with The Quintet of the Hot Club of France, formed with a fellow guitarist Stephane Grappelli.  They were playing in England when war broke out.  Django returned to Paris, and somehow managed to survive the war, avoiding the fate of many of his kin who died in Nazi concentration camps.  After the war he was reunited with Grappelli and toured briefly with Duke Ellington in America.

On May 16th, 1953 Django suffered a massive brain hemorrhage and died.  His music remains as vital and exciting today as when he lived, a truly great guitarist and one well loved amongst all my family.

One of Charles' favourites

and one of mine

for more great Gs visit here at ABC Wednesday, with thanks to Roger and Denise.

http://abcwednesday-mrsnesbitt.blogspot.ca/