This Too Shall Pass

We watched a movie tonight and though I can't recall the name Peter O'Toole was the lead character in it. I also can't remember the name of the young lady who was cast opposite him. She's too young and I grew up sort of with him. As Don said, we've watched him get old. It was about an old man who's friend has a nieces daughter come to live with him. Did you get lost in that or did you manage to keep up? Anyway, while the "uncle" can't stand this teenager, Peter O'Toole who shall be known as Morris becomes infatuated with her. Always a bit of a womanizer in his young days, she awakens something in him and he works at developing a relationship with her. She on the other hand, is at first put off by this old man but soon begins to take advantage of his affections, allowing him to buy her things ocassionally or take her out for lunch. At the same time though she becomes involved in a relationship with a boy her own age, which ultimately turn ugly during which Morris gets hurt. And as is so often the case, an injury for an old person suddenly bumps up his aging process. She in turn, is suddenly faced with the ugliness of her behaviour towards him and is stricken with remorse and volunteers to care for him as he recovers. Of course he soon dies and now she must grieve for him and in that grieving becomes aware, because of the turn out at his funeral, of the parts of his life that were, long before she knew him as an old man. Her attitude of course changes, she turns over a new leaf and becomes a better person, at least as far as we can tell.

Maybe this movie spoke to me because I am getting older myself. Sometimes, as long as I haven't walked past a mirror lately, I feel as though I am still young, at least in my mind. There are no wrinkles, no creases at the corners of my eyes or mouth, no grey hair, and a lifetime of possibilities ahead of me. But then I'm reminded that it couldn't possibly be that I am young, by my stiffness from sitting too long at my computer, or by not being able to see the recipe in my notebook even though I've written it with very big letters. So as I watched Morris responding to her, as he would have fifty years ago, only to have her recoil from him, instead of being welcomed because he was so old, and wrinkled and stooped and awkward, I think I saw myself, Don , all of mankind being forced to give in reluctantly to something that as young people, we never foresaw or would ever admit to. But I couldn't help but feel that even in the midst of his frustration, there was a certain grace that accompanied this whole process of aging and dying if you don't allow bitterness to creep in. Morris wasn't bitter and angry, instead just got on with life as he always had, just at a slower pace. I think that that is what I will try to do, just get on with life at a slower pace and to look at this moment, right now, as being all there is, for this too, shall pass.

Why I Am Here

Max is draped across my lap, sleeping and beside me Diesel is snuggled into the folds of a blanket, also sleeping. I would leave them there if I could, just go on with reading but the time has come to go out to the barn. Early on, I could hear Ambra and Sierra out there, chewing on their stalls, banging their buckets; boredom, hunger, a little of both, demanding some attention. I pick up Max's little relaxed body and he hangs limply from my hands, only opening his eyes slightly as though to ask "how could you?" as I tucked him in beside Diesel.

At this time of year, it is layer upon layer upon layer, before you can step out the door. In the barn, the frost glistens on the window panes, and the horses breath is visible like a small fog bank that hangs around their noses, freezing on their whiskers and underfoot, the nights mess is frozen solid and it is like walking on scattered marbles. Ambra comes out first, and as we step into the sunshine from the gloom of the barn, her head comes up and she stares off at the hills and trees that lay along the back of the fields. Walking out to her paddock, her step is lighter and I can feel her energy like a barely contained charge of electricity. Even as I unsnap the lead rope, she realizes she is free and leaps forward, touching the ground so lightly that she almost seems not to make contact. Round and round, up the hill and back down again.

The new days sun shines low above the trees, casting long blue shadows across the fields and as she throws herself down on the hilltop to roll and roll again, she kicks up a cloud of fine, dry, soft snow and the light catches it and it sparkles and glitters as though she is some small and lovely creature caught in the tiny contained world of a snowglobe. Now done with that and back on her feet, she looks back expectantly at the barn, wondering why Sierra has not come out yet to join her in this revelry. So I turn back to the barn and going into Sierra's stall, I can feel that she also suffers from the same level of excitement and joyfulness that had overtaken Ambra. Once freed, she too runs and romps, floating over the snow in that lovely high Arab trot, tail waving high like a flag over her back, that always takes my breath away. She cruises back and forth in front of me, bucking occassionally, then turning to face me. Her neck is arched, and her eyes bright as she stares straight at me and takes a few steps forward, only to turn again and fly along the fence line with Ambra keeping pace on the other side. And as I stood in the sunshine and the snow, feeling the cold against my face and watching them enjoy their life, one more time, I had the thought that moments like this are why I am here.

("You cannot do a kindness too soon, because you never know how soon it will be too late"
Ralph Waldo Emerson )

Photo by: Rian Houston of Colorado

Seasons Greetings!

Seasons greetings to you all! It is looking like it will be a white Christmas after all. While we'd had some snow a few weeks back, it had all melted and then the days alternated between rain and sunshine, some of them cold and some downright suntanning weather. A few days ago it was 19 degrees! Can you believe it? But as I said, Seasons Greetings and best wishes for the New Year to one and all.

I am often glad that I am forced to get out of the house in the morning to take care of Sierra and Ambra. Today was one of those times because the light was soft, and it was not too cold even though it had snowed the day before. The snow was dry and powdery and only ankle deep. At moments like that I am sometimes tempted to be spontaneous, be the wild one (yeah right!), and throw caution to the wind and ------go for a walk. But then common sense prevails, "you need to have breakfast, you haven't had a shower yet, you are in your pjamas......", and I usually listen to that little practical self that sits on my shoulder and I go back to the house, the fire and my first cup of coffee of the day. But after sitting around a bit, and doing a few things I finally felt I could justify slacking off to enjoy this beautiful day up close.

The nice thing about our property is that we can go for a walk and see a variety of views and vistas. Open snowy fields with that blazing blue sky above, little brooks trickling darkly beneath overhanging branches that are weighted down by fat cushions of snow, tall evergreens with branches draped in overcoats of glistening crystals and distant hills lying quiet and glazed under a blanket of white and blue. So very pretty and we feel very blessed to be able to have this experience in total.

I'm in a funny kind of mood today. Sort of coasting in neutral you could say..... maybe the weather, grey, low hanging clouds, snowing lightly in fits and starts, but not real cold, is making me feel that way. Maybe the time I already put in to altering some curtains that I bought, only to discover that a quick run through the dryer shrank them so much that I have to take out what I already did and start again, is making me feel that way. Maybe I'm just getting so relaxed and I'm not used to feeling this way. I'm just not real sure what it is all about. I do know that I had plans to go into town and do some grocery shopping and run a few errands, but the weather man's warning of icy rain(bad roads?) put me off until about noon. It was warm, well sort of, and no rain, so I decided I would follow through on those plans which meant I needed to get into something a little more town-worthy instead of the sweatpants that I'd been schlepping around the house all day in. By the time I was ready, the snow had started falling! New plan, stick with the plan of staying home after all. Well, to make a long story short, the snow fell for an hour, didn't stick at all, and by then I had bread rising and I was not going to try the town plan again. But that didn't mean that I wasn't totally bugged and frustrated. I like to make a plan and then follow through, sort of tunnel vision and town and errands were at the end of the tunnel originally. All this might explain the funny mood that I am in.

The one thing that makes me feel good no matter what, is our puppy-potty. The dogs are heading straight for the bathroom door in the mornings now when I let them out of the kennel, instead of the back door. The habit is getting stronger which means that it won't be long before we can take our eyes off them when they are walking around the family room. Diesel was used to doing his business indoors in the old shower, but Max arrived at our house in summer and the bathroom was being renovated already so this is all new to him. But he's getting the hang of it now. The shower was replaced by a tiled curb and a hand-held shower and then I filled the basin with gravel. So they do their business, I rinse (or pick up, whichever is necessary) and it all stays clean and odor free. When you have very small dogs and you live where the snow can get much deeper than they are tall, this is the ideal solution. So much nicer to guide them into the bathroom than to stand there in ones housecoat with the rain coming down first thing in the morning. So much nicer.

But I've put off getting back to work on my darn curtains long enough. At this rate, they'll never be done. So I will force myself to put the computer away (I should call it my lap top time waster) and do what I need to do. I would dearly love to be done with them. So til later......

Coffee breaks and puppies...

Another coffee break with my sweetie.....one of the things that Don and I have always attributed our good relationship to is the habit of going out together for coffee each day. It got us out of the house and took me (especially) away from the never ending to-do list. We focused on each other and shared our days events. We actually communicated! The feeling was that if we stayed at home for coffee, it would be too easy to each grab our coffee cup and head for different corners. Here there is only a Tim Hortons close by, no Wired Monk, no Starbucks, no Esquires, so now we stay home because you can only go to Tim Hortons so many times before you are tired of it. And instead of preservative laden, hormone filled goodies to go with the coffee, I found a blueberry muffin recipe that is fabulous. No eggs, no milk, no butter and they are so good. When Holly and Sean came for a visit, she brought her favourite vegan recipe book to show me and after checking it out, I ordered one of my own and that is where this recipe came from. Diesel and Max really appreciate our having coffee breaks at home too, and I'm sure they've come to understand the phrase "come and get your coffee" because the minute they hear that, they are right there at our heels, waiting for their share of whatever is the treat of the day. They are so spoiled silly puppies. Now I should look for another fabulous recipe as I think they would like a change, spoiled little mutts that they are.

The Tiny Reprieve

The last time that we got together here, the images were as in the depths of winter, drifts of snow piled up against the car, blanketing the driveway, and the thoughts that crossed my mind were much the same, with visions of sugar plums dancing in our heads and snuggling down for a long winters nap, and all that sort of thing.

Tomorrow is the first of December and we've gotten a tiny reprieve from the inevitable layer upon layer of the white stuff since then. The snow has been melting gradually and today I felt that it would be a crime to let it pass us by so I put a saddle on Sierra and then the three of us went for a walk. I didn't get to go up into the woods unfortunately because the heavy snow had bent many of the little birch saplings down across the trail so that it was impassable on horseback. In the summer, I think that Don and I will take out some of them back ten feet or so from the trails so that next year, the trails stay open. Oh well, the sun was shining, only a slight breeze and I didn't get dumped. I think if I had different horses, maybe a couple of old bomb-proof quarter horses, I wouldn't always feel so blessed that I ended the ride on top of the horse. But Ambra and Sierra are Arabs through and through and in some regards match the stereotypes perfectly. I've often thought that while some horses would succumb in a crisis very quickly, because my girls are so reactive, they would survive much longer because they're immediate inclination is to head for the hills. Fortunately for me, they are very well behaved and well trained so they listen pretty good.

I've spent so many of the moments that I have alloted to me, waiting for the other shoe to fall, certain that something was going to go wrong, even in the midst of a good life. But I think that I am finally learning to live "in the now" and to appreciate this day, this hour, this moment, without the fear that it might be taken away. I suppose that my early way of looking at life would have been considered very pessimistic. Don on the other hand, has always been much more optimistic. While I am agonizing over whether or not we could/should take a chance on retiring at the time that we did, Don was always the one encouraging me that it will all work out, it'll be just fine.

The thing is, when you are always waiting for the worst, you get so caught up, that it gets very easy to not enjoy what is good about today. So today, I went riding over the hills and snowy fields, and I made a point of noticing all my blessings and right now, it is all just fine.

Winter Song

In the dark hours of the night, when the world was still and sleeping, the snowflakes began to fall, adding to the whiteness that already blanketed the blueberry hills. It was not a muffled stillness that awoke me, but the sound of the wind, rushing and pushing through the bare branches of the trees, shaking and rattling them like the bare bones that remind us of the summers past life. The sounds that woke me were the groaning of the old house as the wind hurled itself against the walls, seeking an entrance to even this haven that was safe from its onslaught. Carefully pushing the covers aside and slipping into a robe, I went down the stairs, stepping cautiously in the half light of early morning. It was hard to see what was happening on the other side of the kitchen window because the wind had blown little clumps of snow up onto the glass. Only the dark, tossing branches of the big maple tree outside were visible, all else being indistinct in a grey-white shroud that blurred the lines of the world.

The family room was still warm from the previous nights fire. A new fire, another day, and the routine that would fill the weeks ahead had begun again. Another act in this grand play that is life. Quiet strains of classical music drifting around the room, weaving in and out with the sounds of the wind outside creating our own winter song.

It's early yet but the fan that sits atop the woodstove spins feverishly, a sure sign that the fire inside has been burning for a while already. Diesel and Max are laying on their little pad beside it, basking in the steady warmth that radiates off it, warming the room and keeping the winter cold at bay. While Diesel dozes, Max lays up against him, finding comfort in that touch, even as he gnaws on his chew toy. His teeth snap and pop on it. Maybe his vigor will help loosen up some of the baby teeth that refuse to let go even though his adult teeth are almost in place. I wonder if Diesel is pleased in his little doggy mind, that Max is there? Does his world feel complete because there is another dog in the house? Max teases him unmercifully, crashing and running over him, whirling and feinting at him, all in an effort to goad him into a typical dog play response. Sometimes all Diesels fears and anxieties disappear momentarily and he joins in the fray and I swear that he truly grins for the sheer joy of it all. Other times, he crumbles into a little brown heap of phobias and anguish, screaming and quivering. Anyone who thinks that animals can't suffer from mental illness have never met Diesel.

This will be a day for inside things, art projects, sewing, maybe a tv movie or a video. The snow that still blows and dances outside precludes the trip to town that I'd contemplated last night. The last two packets of flower bulbs that are laying on the steps inside the barn will not get planted after all and Ambra and Sierra will snooze in their stalls. And the wind will howl and the fire flicker and pop, and we will be thankful for all that we have.

Who really cares?

You know, I was going to start this piece with a trite description of what the weather has been like over the past few days, but then the thought suddenly occurred to me, "who really cares?". Have you ever launched into a description of some event in your life, or a situation that you were dealing with, and have that thought suddenly pop into your mind even as you are mid sentence. And as your lips are still moving, and you look at the person that you are talking too, you feel an overwhelming desire to just quit talking, but you know that if you do that, while you may feel some momentary relief as a result of giving in to that urge, it will quickly be followed by the uncomfortable notion that some might think you are nuts, unless of course, you feel compelled to give an explanation in which case, you are only exchanging one long, winding explanation for another. Who really cares?
We fill up our days and our communications with the mundane, finding safety I suppose in these words that act like a screen to keep our souls safe from the curious eyes of the world. It is easier than talking about the things that touch us in the most intimate of ways, pain so exquisitely pointed at the core of our being, emotional hurts that we cannot bear to speak of, humilitiations, joys....our own private stories. Do we really want to tell our truths? And how do we decide whom to tell those truths to?

Or maybe I'm just tired.

Bonsai garden....

I've been laid low by a virus for the past couple days. Lack of sleep, periodic coughing spells and lack of interest in food have all combined to leave me just a bit worn out, even when I've just gotten up in the morning. But I'm on the mend I think and then I can start taking care of Don, because he is beginning to sound a little sniffly. We haven't had a cold/flu in so long, I guess we are due.

The morning has dawned, warm and golden. The sunshine streaming through the kitchen window feels pleasant and lights up the plants that I have on the window sill. Some people like African violets on the sill over the sink, a lovely array of pinks and purples, blues and lavenders. But I have little bonsai in training. Mind you, they aren't your typical junipers and japanese maples. These are plants that do well indoors and they are small size (called mame which is pronounced "mammy"). When we lived in BC, I had quite a nice little collection of great bonsai. As nice as some that I see on a bonsai website that I like to go to. But they ranged in size up to 2' high, quite large really and with correspondingly large pots. Unfortunately, when we moved, it wasn't possible to fit the big pots and all into the car so I donated them to the local bonsai club to be used as raffle prizes. I thought that when we arrived here in NS, I would give up the bonsai hobby. Too much work and maintenance. While I don't have the big ones anymore, I have started a few small cuttings with the intention of developing this very small size. In the event that we ever move again, particularly into an apartment one day when we are really old and rickety, I can take a few little plants with me.

I have a little fuschia and I'm developing a small flowered chrysanthemum, as well as a few Chinese elms. Chinese elms are actually interesting as a bonsai subject. They are a tree that will grow up to 50' tall, but you can maintain them in a size that will fit in the palm of your hand and as the small pot size restricts their growth, the leaves are correspondingly tiny. The pictures above are of the fuschia and chrysanthemum, part of my indoor garden.

When I Was a Child...

When I was a child I read voraciously. The printed word was the passion and I read books beyond my years, each of which carried me into another world where I could live the lives of people who's existence seemed far more exciting that the one I trudged through day after day. Instead of walking along the sidewalk on my way to school, I often found myself stepping through a woodland path, lined with the quiet blue of violets and touched by the sweet kisses of the warm summer sun, filtering through the lace canopy of trees that hung overhead. The sound of birds calling to one another was the music that followed me along that peaceful road. Hardly lifting my head as I stepped off the curb became an act of picking my way across the water-worn rocks that poked above the brook that forever found its way down to the sea. The blaring horns of city traffic were not worthy of notice in the face of the clarion calls of trumpets and the clash of armour and booming artillary or the whispered words of a lover scorned. These were the worlds that I moved about in, like a wraith that longs for what once was, lonely, haunted, and haunting.

Then my children were born, and the books were put away. The act of my sitting, whether to read or to write a letter, became a signal that I was available to be climbed on or simply cuddled with. Good purposes all, but not something that could be done at the same time that I was trying to find out what had happened in that other world. Printed words and far away places and times were set aside for the place in time that had become my new lot in life.

But now, the children are long grown and gone, and only one grandchild who tomorrow, will again be far away. Our big projects are winding down and the winter winds are on their way. My eyesight began to change a long time ago and I'm wondering how long it will be before the reading glasses from the pharmacy will meet the increasing limitations that I find myself struggling with, so the art that I used to fill the time with before is becoming less comfortable to do. I am turning back to the books that used to draw me in and allowing them to illuminate my world again. Paint their pictures with words carefully chosen. Giving back to me the worlds that I used to haunt

Sunset Years.

Now that the big chores are done, the list of projects diminished to where we can putter or put things off, I am finally facing retirement. What to do? Of course there are the day to day things to do, the things that keep our days moving forward, a moment at a time. But when I sit quietly, as I have learned to do of late, and just be, then I find myself wondering....is this all there is? I have no passion it seems, not like I used to. In a time long ago, I was passionate about my garden, my horses, my art, and found then that the day to day demands of life got in the way of those things. Now those things have joined the day to day things.

How do you rekindle a passion, or find a new passion or a meaning or a purpose? Is this all there is? How many decades are left to me to wonder these thoughts aloud and in the quiet of my mind? Is this all there is?

Maximum Dog, Mad Max....

I don't think that I've introduced you all to our new dog and just by saying that, I think that I've put Don and I squarely in the arena of old folks who dote on their little mutts with an intensity usually reserved for first time parents. A couple days ago, Don called me upstairs to his office. He had come across some old videos that we'd made several years ago, of Casey, Lucy and Diesel. We stood there watching and remembering Casey and Lucy, remembering how Lucy would come when called and then drop flat to the floor to be petted or how Casey would prance over to be petted and then be so nervous that she could only take it for a moment or two. Right now Don is sitting on the couch with Diesel sleeping in his arms, unable to do anything because "it will disturb the dog". I tell you, they have us wrapped firmly around their hairy little paws!

Anyway, this new little guy is named Max and is also a Chihuahua although I do think there might be a little something else mixed in there. But he is a little guy, only about five pounds. Where Diesel is short legged and solid and chunky and moves like an ancient dog, Max is long and very lean and active and athletic. They are polar opposites. Max loves to play and wrestle and tries to antagonize Diesel into getting involved but he really has to work at it. More often than not, Diesel just stands there and takes the abuse and as you can see in one of the above pictures, often seeks refuge in the dog kennel when he just can't take it any more.

We sure love these little dogs. They make us smile constantly. Diesel with his tongue peeking out and Max, always wagging his tightly curled little tail. Because winters are harsh here, we remodelled our bathroom that is downstairs. There was a shower in it and we replaced it with just a little tiled lip and then tile a foot up the two walls. I filled it with gravel and on the wall hangs a hand held shower. That is the puppy potty. They can lift their leg against the tiled wall and then we rinse it down right away. It is perfect and they are learning to use it quite easily. Mind you, you can teach a dog to do just about anything with love and a treat.

What We Did On Our Holidays....

We've had a good day, lots to do and lots done. It was good. It was very warm although the sky was overcast and drizzly. So I spent some time cleaning up the workbench in the barn, trying a couple of new recipes from the super, terrific Vegan cookbook that Holly suggested when she was here, and I made another jacket for Max, our other little dog. I don't think I've introduced him have I? Well, I'll have to take a picture of him and do that in the next couple days.

So Holly and Sean were here for two weeks and it was fantastic having them here. We cooked together, rode horses together and just happily hung out. We went up to Cape Breton for three or four days, staying in Sydney for the nights. We went to the fort at Louisebourg and that is amazing. It was an active, thriving French fort in the 17th century with about 10,000 people who lived and worked there, at its height. As it was well past tourist season, when we were there, the dramatic enactments of life there were pretty much over, but we still enjoyed strolling around and imagining what life might have been like there four hundred years ago. Then we spent a day driving the Cabot Trail and that is where some of the pictures that you will see in the link that I will include here, come from. The wild rocky coastline is gorgeous and a counterpoint to the glowing gold and red of the maples and birches that blanket the hillsides.

Another day was spent on PEI and Holly lost her heart to that little island province. It's pastoral beauty was too much for her! That day was also lovely with blue skies and no wind to cool the air. We had lunch in Charlottetown before heading home across the Confederation Bridge. The bridge is far more interesting to look at from a distance. But the sides are closed in so that you can't see anything unless of course, you are in a truck and sit higher than our car.

By the way, those pictures of the red hills, rimmed with colorful maples were the blueberry fields up behind our house. Holly and I rode up there and the color was spectacular! The last couple days of their visit, were spent just chillin' at home, riding the hills. No urgency to go here or there, just time spent together. It was so nice and came to an end far to soon. If you want to see some pictures that Don took, here is a link that you can click on. A picture is worth a thousand words and words will never be as beautiful as the pictures, so take a minute and a tour of Nova Scotia....

http://gallery.me.com/coolslug#gallery

The Summer is gone....

The days have flown by since we first arrived, summer into fall into winter into spring into summer and now the autumn again. And through it all I have felt immersed in a whirlwind of activity with deadlines around every corner. But the light shines at the end of the tunnel for us now and we plan on being finished with the garage by the end of the week and then there is little do save the usual year end things. Raking leaves, raking leaves, and then there is raking leaves. The garden patch which we had started in the summer was left to languish and the weeds started in again and I hope to finish turning that over and pull them out yet before the snow flies but we shall see. The fall has been beautiful, clear blue skies, little rain, warm days and with the inevitable cold that lies ahead, I am reluctant to spend these precious hours inside at some sewing that I have waiting, so outside I go, just one more day.

Holly and Sean were here for two weeks that seemed far too short, and now they are gone once again. We had such a good time and in my next post I will post some pictures and talk more about our visit. Just to let them know, we miss their faces and the pitty pat of their little feet.

My marigolds froze last night, the miniature roses still look lovely (they like the coolness I suppose) and the leaves are almost off the trees and it is getting cold enough outside at night that the dogs are quick to do their business and come back in to the warmth of the wood stove. But now I will leave you. My bread must be popped in the oven and the pot of soup stirred so that the hungry pit upstairs can be fed some supper. Til next time my loves....

Dragon Flies and Myths....

The phone call was taking up all my attention, the passing of news from one to another, family events and such. The sun was shining outside after many days of grey clouds and off and on rain, and so for a change, the patio door was open to let the breezes and fresh air take away the staleness. A loud clattering against the window glass suddenly made the conversation of less importance, especially as the noise was on the inside. It was accompanied by the sound of a vibration, a buzz. A huge dragon fly had for some reason decided that a tour of the house was in order, but maybe realized his mistake immediately and was trying hard to find his way back to the garden. First one window, then another, then another.... Don came in at that moment and phone still in hand, I pointed out the lost wayfarer, and he captured him in a small handtowel and released him back to the world beyond the glass.

Watching Don save the bug reminded me that when he was a little boy, someone, his bother Bob perhaps, told him that you have to be careful of dragon flies because they will sew your lips shut. To a small child that likely seemed perfectly plausible considering the long, very thin and seemingly pointy tail that they had. So he would clap his hand over his lips when he would see one and run as fast as his little legs would carry him. It has been a standing joke between he and I, that at the sight of a dragon fly now, we also, would clap our hands over our lips as we shouted a warning, with a huge smile for one another.

Children are so gullible and will swallow the silliest stories completely. But they also believe stories that aren't meant to be jokes. I remember when I was old enough to read, I saw a magazine in a doctors waiting room (or somewhere else perhaps, not that the where really matters), and there was a story with a caption about an asteroid or meteor hitting the earth and causing destruction, etc., etc. Being very young, I didn't read the whole story and likely misunderstood it as well, but I believed that it was a warning that this was in fact going to happen. I worried and was afraid for months over this.

Casual comments, meant in fun, or information not explained well enough can cause anxieties that children shouldn't have to carry around with them. I will have to remember this when I am with Liam. I wouldn't want him writing a blog when he is older and remembering how his Grandma messed with his mind when he was a little kid.

The Hummingbird Sparkle....

We've been working so hard on renovating houses for the past year, but in the back of our minds, the forest calls to us. We've walked up there a few times, talked in vague terms about the plans we have, but done nothing to speak of. Until now. Kim and Oliver and Liam have moved into the Stanley Street as of three days ago and we fully intend to do nothing that involves paint brushes, hammers, saws or anything else of that nature for at least a couple weeks so now the time is right to work up in the woods in the grand tradition of Paul Bunyan and Babe, the blue ox. Paul was big and young and he could handle an axe all day long without tiring. But we are old and little and Ambra would never pull a log. So instead, we will have a chain saw and a tractor and a bush hog and we will not work all day long, only until we are pooped or bored, whichever comes first.

Yesterday, Don went up with the tractor and the bush hog in the morning while I did gardening. Every so often, I would hear the sound of branches crashing and snapping, or a dreadful grinding, roar. But my phone didn't ring with Don on the other end, screaming for me to get help and I puttered around the yard. It was quiet with no baby Liam at the living room window, calling out to me for attention, almost a little weird. I think that I had gotten kind of used to them being here. After all, it's been almost three months.

Today, we took the chain saw up and in the morning, cut up the small trees that had to be pushed out of the way, picked up branches for chipping later and just had the grandest time. By lunchtime, we were pooped so back to the house. A bite to eat and then time to relax for a bit but the air was still cool and the rain had not begun yet as promised by the weatherman, so revived by a coffee and a piece of pie, we decided to go back up to the woods. This time we took the tractor and the brush hog with the plan of extending the trail instead of continuing the cleanup on the first one. You know what they say, "a change is as good as a rest".

There is a fern glen that at the right time of year is quite nice, shaded and quiet. I've always liked it, although going there before August is not advisable because it is also the nicest place for mosquitoes to raise their families. But now we decided to extend the trail through it. First one tree down, then branches cleaned off a big old fir, now time to stop and take stock of what the next move might be. While we were standing there, from the corner of my eye I caught a movement. It was slow, and seemed to float gently through the air, but because it was so small and so erratic, it was hard to tell what it was. I figured that it was possibly a fat, lazy June bug and as both Don and I watched it's wobbly progress, it hovered for a moment over a twig and then softly came to rest, hardly moving the twig so light was its landing. A fat, tiny baby hummingbird, possibly trying out his first long distance flight. Oh my gosh it was adorable! He rested for a few brief moments and then the little cutie launched himself off into the woods again. The baby "hummer" was the highlight of the day for me and while I will always enjoy our trail and remember the fun we had clearing it, the little bird adds just the right amount of sparkle to the memory.

Kung Foo Liam

I just thought that you all might like to see a true kung foo master. Look at that form, that concentration. Bad guys beware.

Light Shows and a Lot of Bull...

I had to go out late, after we'd watched a movie in the evening, to get the horses off the side pasture, and right after I'd done that, I came in to try and coax everyone outside into the dark. This is the time of year that the fireflies dance. It was magnificent, little sparks of light all over the hillside and in the trees. We stood there in the dark pasture just absorbing the magic. Fortunately, the mosquitos were either over at the neighbors or we didn't appeal for the evening, because our reverie wasn't cut short by the attack of the little torturers. Such a delight in so many ways. I wish we could share it with you.

And earlier, much earlier, while Don was having his morning coffee out on the porch, I happened to look over his shoulder as I came out to tell him something, and saw a great big bull moose, standing there on the hillside as he watched the horses. He was very curious about everything and just strode across the hillside and back again. No hurry, no worry, just stop and look, few more steps, stop again. So cool! Then just as casually, he disappeared into the woods. I remember reading a little piece in a small paper a few months back and a local person had said that although she'd been born here, she'd never seen a live moose. Here we are, barely a year and one strolls across our back yard. A couple weeks ago, we also watched a mother deer take her little baby for a walk across the back hill. Our hillside is our theatre it seems. So here is a picture of Mr. Moose for your viewint pleasure.

Bugs, bugs and MORE BUGS!!!

Our summer has finally arrived, hot and humid! On the other hand, maybe it's just warm and I'm in a sweat all the time because of hot flashes---hmmm, wonder which it is. Whatever the case, the warm weather has brought out the flies and my poor Sierra and Ambra are going crazy. A few days ago, I took their halters off at the pasture gate, and later, noticing that they were galloping back and forth in the field, I went out to discover that they were being swarmed by a couple dozen great big,brown deer flies. They were so frantic I could hardly get their halters back on so that I could take them into the barn. Poor girls. You know, when all the transplanted easterners used to tell me how beautiful Nova Scotia is, not one of them ever mentioned the flies. Anyway, at this point, I'm thinking that I will have to buy full cover mesh fly sheets with a belly bank and a neck cover so that they will be able to graze at all. Even if I leave them out at night, right now the mosquitos get them after dark. They are loosing weight because their grazing is being affected and they are wearing off the calories just be trying to evade the flies. I am going to measure them tomorrow for sheets and we will see.

Who is he?

Last week, a terrible thing happened and if you are a follower of Kims blog you will have already heard but for those that aren't, a quick lowdown. Kim and Oliver had two little dogs, one named Boo and the other called Griffen. To make a long story short, little Griffen, who by the way was the dearest little fellow, was killed. We've all been devastated by his passing (our family is very, very, very attached to our little mutts, thinking of them as family, not pets). Anyway, Don thought that a new puppy might help ease Kim and Olivers grief, so he was looking on Craigslist and found several that he subsequently called about. And as you might know from Kims blog, she found a little merle puppy, four weeks old, that she decided to buy. Even though he is with his mom still, he now has a name and it is Mr. Bingley.

In the meantime, a lady who Don talked to during the search, finally sent Don a photo of her little guy, and to make a long story short (again), we now have a new little charmer too. We haven't decided on a name yet, we have a harder time with names than Kim does, but so far the choices are Patches, Digbey, Bingo, Smudge, Little-bugger-peed-on-the-rug-again, and my least favorite, Bytore. He is very different from Diese,l who was born old. Diesel never, even as a puppy, knew how to play. He is very serious and awkward and fearful of getting hurt if he attempts to climb over anything and I could never get him to chew on acceptable toys which is supposed to be good for their teeth.. This little fellow on the other hand, is fearless, and likes to play whenever he isn't sleeping, and chews on whatever fits into his mouth and some things that don't.

Sitting here discussing names, we got to talking about Diesel and came to realize what a good little dog he is. He has never chewed on anything and destroyed it, he is very quiet, put him on the couch and he's stuck there, you can keep him from escaping by simply putting a six inch board across the doorway. But now I think we will have to exchange the 6" board for a 6' fence , possibly with rolls of barbed wire on the top. Yes indeed, things will be different around here.

Holly, I didn't want to tell you because I know how much you want a dog but your life is in such a place right now that it just wouldn't work. I knew how sad you would be sweetie and I feel bad for you, but your time will come, it will.

Anyway,here are a couple pictures of this new member of our family.

We had the nicest day today. We played hooky from renovating and instead, we went to a yoga class together in Pugwash. Yes, can you believe it, yoga! I thoroughly enjoyed it and the lady who teaches is a tiny, and very nice lady named Mary. She is very good at helping you understand the movements and their benefits and how to achieve them and she makes you feel very comfortable even if you are only a beginner. And at the end, during the time that you lay quietly and let your muscles all relax, she play some beautiful music made up primarily of gongs. Very melodic and very spiritual sounding. I am looking forward to Monday when we go again. Don decided to give yoga a try because he always has such stiff tight muscles, especially in his shoulders and neck. He thinks that might explain the frequent headaches he was experiencing. Anyway, after going once, he suggested I might like it so I decided to come along and I'm so glad I did.

But enough of that, the other thing that I have lately been renovating is my horse stalls. Did I mention that yet? I can't remember. Anyway, I had two smallish box stalls and one standing stall. The boxes were too small for a horse Sierra's size and because she is a bit nervous she is inclined to pace and circle and this just makes a horrible mess of her stall. So I've changed things to two very wide standing stalls where they will be tied for the night and this will keep their business ends in one place so they won't be eating their hay out of the manure, and they will lay down and sleep on a clean area. I'm almost finished with it and when the rubber mats are delivered, I'll build the mangers and then I'm done with that. And one more thing to check off on the To Do List. Hmmm, what can I add on to fill in the newly opened spot then?

Racing against the calendar....

Yes I know---it has been a long time since I wrote anything here, but honestly, the summer has arrived and it seems like I've been waiting since forever to be able to be outside in the sunshine! I need my garden time, or Debby becomes a dull (and cranky) girl. So sorry, just can't help it. Mind you, we are still working on the Stanley Street house for Kim and Oliver so that has kept me hopping too. But it is coming along and before you know it, I'll be putting some before and after pictures on just to impress you with the hard work we've been doing. Just think, in the course of one year, we will have upgraded and renovated three, count 'em, three houses! I am looking forward to retirement.


I have so many projects that I want to accomplish and I feel like I am in a race against the clock (or should I say calendar). Don and I have started a garden area, but that won't get planted until next year. But at least the sod has been removed. We need to get a rototiller as the next step is breaking up the hard packed ground before we add back a some topsoil. We also would like to get a start on a new roadway up into our woods and extend the walking trail. The original roadway was also a natural low spot on the hillside, so in the spring, it becomes a trickley little stream and as a result is not an easy or comfortable stroll. And I want to put some fence posts in so that I can leave the horses in the field when we go to town. I just don't feel comfortable leaving them inside a temporary hot wire when we go away from the property. I have visions of lawsuits dancing in my head I guess (should they decide, for some unfathomable reason, to walk through the wire and go for a stroll up the road). And of course, there is always the yardwork that I love to do....just not enough time, that's all I can say.

Giant babies and visitors!

It has been an awful long time since I wrote anything here and I am sorry for that, but I've just been so busy----when will it all end?!! Kim and Oliver and Liam got here the day after Mothers Day and since then we've been working like crazy to make the little Stanley Street house ready for them. We'd quit working on it at all because we decided to focus on our place and make it livable, but of course that meant that now, almost everything needed to be done at Stanley Street. So busy, busy, busy. At some point I will put on some photos of that place too because the change has been dramatic there let me tell you.

So Kim and Oliver got here, their trip was pretty uneventful except I think they did sleep one night in their van. I guess Oliver likes to drive long spells and when he finally got pooped they weren't near a motel, so they just tucked themselves into their seats for the night. Must have been tough, all day in the van and now the night and then the next day. Yechh. But they got here and having them stay with us has been nice. And Liam has had the chance to get to know his grandma and grandpa gradually and easily. For the first four or five days, we didn't even touch him, just said his name lots and played peek-a-boo for a moment or two over and over. He would always "hide" behind his hand initially. And gradually he started looking back at us, although still from behind his hand. Then one day, when Kim had to go out of the room for a second and he started whining, I scooped him up, quickly threw a sweater around him and we headed right out the door to go look at the horses. He hardly had a second to think about what was happening before he was distracted by Ambra and Sierra. So we stayed there for about five minutes and then came back in and from that moment on you could see him beginning to thaw. And now he smiles at us and is happy to come into the kitchen (without his mommy or daddy) and shows us things.

You can see by the photos, that he is a big boy (or maybe I'm just smaller than I thought?). Kim said the last time they weighed him he was about 31 pounds (at 15 months) and that was about a month ago. His head is as big as Kims. Kim was a little, skinny baby so this size comes from his father that's for sure. Now that he's comfortable with us, it is easy to see how lucky Kim and Oliver are as parents because Liam is a sweet, happy little boy and very affectionate. It's so nice to be able to get to know him this way and it will be fun to watch him as he grows up. I think that he might grow up and be very chatty because he chatters away like he's having the most important conversation. It is very cute.

While Oliver will be going off to work in town on the house, Don and I are going to get busy and do some work on my barn. We've lost the last sawdust supplier in this region (owner of the mill died and family shut the business down) so I have to re-think my stall situation for Ambra and Sierra. I have two small box stalls and while Ambra's isn't too bad because she is smaller, Sierra's becomes a cesspool, because she paces in it, scattering the mess overall. So I've decided to remake the stalls into two largish standing stalls so the mess is only at the business end. It's not ideal, but if I am going to have to buy sawdust in bales during the winter, then this will use less. I will be putting rubber mats down too so that they can lay on them comfortably. And in short order we'll be in fly-season full throttle so I may be stabling them during the middle of the day to keep them away from the flies. So that is my plan for the day. And now I'm done, but I'm thinking about all of you each and every day. Love to you all.

Ran out of room for pictures on the last post so here are some more to look at.

The hills are greener today than yesterday and I can see a soft green haze of new leaves on the tree tops. Even the tiny bushes have fat buds about to burst open. But neither Don nor I have had too much opportunity to gaze out at the landscape because we've been working feverishly to get the kitchen done before Kim and Oliver and Liam arrive. I just don't want them to walk into and have to live in a mess here with us. At last though, it's done (mostly) and we are ready for the unveiling. Try to remember the pictures that we posted here a while back that showed things in disarray and see if it looks any better!