Snowdrops

"The snow-drop who, in habit white and plain,

Comes on, the herald of fair Flora's train."

Charles Churchill (1732-1764)

My garden suffered some neglect during the two years we lived a little ways north. I'm eager to get it back into shape, but will have to wait a wee bit longer for the rain to lessen. Until then, I wander around, poking around, seeing what's survived. Seeing these nodding snowdrops yesterday made me so happy. And in another spot, the very first tips of daffodils are emerging from the ground.

I'm linking this post to Mosaic Monday, hosted by the ever-gracious Mary at the Little Red House.

And on a different topic, Mater of Mater Familias Knits, tagged me in a meme. I don't participate often, but this one sounds fun. It's also long, so I'm taking extreme liberty with the rules and breaking it into two posts. Today, I'll post 11 random things about myself, and tomorrow I'll post the rules and answer Mater's questions.

1.  I'm the eldest of three children.

2.  My sister and brother insist that the only memories they have of me as a child is with my nose in a book. They exaggerate, but I have always devoured books.

3.  Although our family was small, I have 17 pairs of aunts and uncles, and 56 first cousins. Both of my grandfathers fled Russia during the post-WWI revolution because of persecution against the Mennonites. My grandmothers' families had come to Canada earlier and were also of Mennonite heritage. I loved growing up as part of a huge extended family.

4.  My favourite colour is blue, but I probably look better in pink tones. 

5.  I was married at 20, got my first degree at 22, and at age 24 my husband and I moved to Ecuador, South America to work with a Christian non-profit organization. We went for four years and ended up staying for almost 21 years.

6.  Our three children were born in a small hospital on the edge of the Amazon jungle. When I went into the hospital with the first, I noticed a cockroach in the corner of the bathroom and wondered how I could ever give birth in a building that housed cockroaches. After a few hours of labour, I wouldn't have cared if a tribe of cockroaches broke into song and serenaded me with "La Cucaracha." 

7.  We returned to Canada in 2002, settling on our Island because my husband found work here. It's a great place to live.

8.  I'll take salty and crunchy over sweet and mushy any day. 

9.  Dark chocolate is the exception to the above, especially if sprinkled with a little sea salt.

10.  I obtained my second degree (a BA in French) at 54, just last fall. I love languages, and speak Spanish as well as French and English.

11. Creativity is in my blood. Making things with my hands, by sewing, painting, stitching, cooking or decorating is something I have to do. 

This Little Light

"Let me show you what I made." Last weekend, via Skype, our daughter in Italy showed us her version of a clementine candle. I thought it wonderful and later that day set about making one for myself. I followed her verbal instructions and came up with this adorable little candle, which I set into a glass dish and placed on the dinner table. It burned all evening, a friendly, non-toxic glow. 

I thought you might be interested in making one, too. So I googled the idea and came up with this link to an Apartment Therapy Clementine Candle tutorial. A clementine (or mandarin orange) plus olive oil is all that is needed. So simple. 


I'm stymied these days, unable to think of anything blog worthy to post. I'm really looking forward to moving upstairs into my home. That will happen early next week. (We've been in the basement suite for the past month, which is nice enough, but I want to unpack my stuff.) A lot of our possessions will still be in our house up island, hopefully making it look attractive to prospective buyers. 


Two days this week were Nana days with our sweet little miss. She's chatty as can be although we're all hard-pressed to tell what she's saying. Full of giggles, inquisitive fingers, and a mind that observers can practically see working to figure out her world. 

Wild Weather Week

Our weather this week has changed from sunny, but cold, to cold plus snow, to warmer and rain with fierce winds. Today was no day for picture taking so this mosaic is from the sunny but cold day last Sunday. The Westsong Walkway begins in Victoria's Inner Harbour at Songhees Point and continues along the water to West Bay, curving around small bays and jutting rocky points. 

The wind today made for an interesting experience in church this morning. Our pastor was speaking about technology and about how easy it is to connect via the internet, Skype, texting, or whatever, and suggested that every once in awhile we just need to take time to disconnect from technology and connect with people face to face. At that very moment, the lights, power, sound went out - no electricity. It was a total disconnect from technology that made me wonder if he had planned it! 

So we went out for coffee with friends and connected face to face. 

Connecting (or linking) to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Mary at the Little Red House.

A Bookish Sort of Day

Grade 6. George Hilliard Elementary School. The library was my favourite place in the school. I read constantly. And re-read stories that appealed to me. One was Time At the Top, a book whose title I could never remember but located by its yellow hardback cover on the "O" shelf. (Note: I just looked it up on Google and discovered that it's by Edward Ormondroyd and was indeed published in a yellow hardback in 1963. And that it was made into a movie for television in 1999.)


But I digress.  


On this particular day, our class is in the library, helping the librarian straighten bookshelves.  Our teacher is elsewhere. Each student is assigned a section of books to straighten. Each book is to be pulled out to the edge of the shelf and lined up neatly with the others. All goes well until one of my classmates pokes her fingers at the books I'd already aligned. I redo them. Again. And again. Completely frustrated, I use both of my hands to shove all of her books back against the shelf. Rather violently.


At this moment, the librarian turns and looks at me. In shock (for I was one of those annoyingly good students who rarely, if ever, got into trouble), she scolds me and sends me back to the classroom in shame. I am so embarrassed that I pick up my things from the empty classroom and walk home, unwilling to face my teacher or my classmates. 


I haven't thought of that day for many years, but yesterday, I filled in for the librarian at school. As I straightened shelves I remembered that sunny day so long ago. And I still felt, from a distance, the embarrassment and the injustice. Funny how memory works, isn't it? 


The books at the top are on my shelf at home, arranged at random, not aligned.

The Poires Au Vin (Pears in Wine) that I made the other day were so good. And easy. I found the recipe on Sharon's site, My French Country Home. Here's a link to the recipe. I used D'Anjou pears, just three, and added about 1/3 cup of sugar to the wine. 

Also, since I had no homemade marmalade to use in the recipe, I used Bonne Maman's. The label is so pretty. The pears were delicious, sitting in a pool of concentrated syrup and drizzled with a spoonful of salted caramel chocolate sauce (which I did not make).


Today I'm at home. Laundry, bread-making, cleaning. Hoping the freezing rain passes us by. What's on your plate for today?

A REAL Snow Day

Yesterday's snow was nothing compared to today's. We woke up to a drift outside the door and snow still falling steadily. The world was transformed by white snowflakes.

The cheers of school children resounded throughout the region as schools were pronounced closed for the day. Many people chose to stay home and work via computer, or just enjoy the day off. In the afternoon, the snow ceased falling and I went out for a walk with my camera. 


On a bench, this little snowman bears witness to someone's playful spirit.

"And still the snow falls in delicate stars

Covers the wide earth gently"

I read the above lines on a German blog (translated into English) last winter and copied them down because I like the imagery. They were credited to F. Stocklin, but I could find no information on such a poet. If anyone knows more about her/him, I'd love to find out.

This photo is taken with a special effect on my camera - it's supposed to look like a painting. 


I spent a quiet day - sewing, reading, talking via Skype to one daughter in Italy and the other just a few miles away (also home because of the snow), making butternut squash soup and poached pears. This evening Tim and I took another walk in the snow, in the dark. How quiet the streets are. How muffled the noise. 

Snow Day

Snow has been falling in fits and starts around here for the past couple of days. We haven't seen much, sad to say. Winters here are so very mild that I'm happy to see a couple of weeks of snow. It never lasts long. This is the sum total of our snow. Not much.

But in other areas close by the accumulation is much heavier. In fact, I was called in to teach today because one teacher was stranded at home by the snow. I loved being back at school. I taught four lovely classes in the Home Ec room. The students did a great job and good smells wafted throughout that particular wing of the school. 


Now I'm home again, with tired feet and a happy heart. Time for a cup of tea before starting dinner. And can I wish for more snow?

A Little Pink

The temperatures around here are the coldest they've been this winter - hovering around freezing. Some areas have had snow. Last night I went outside and a few flakes twirled lazily to the ground. But that was all. I'm still hoping for a snowfall this week.


I bought a bunch of tulips this week. They were just tight buds but have quickly opened in the warmth of the house. I love the way they anticipate spring. I try to stick with seasonal flowers from the yard, but at this time of year nothing's blooming. I took them outside to photograph them and love the way the shadows fall across them. 


Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Mary at the Little Red House.