Friday Favourites

 

The stars are always above us, swirling in the vast reaches of space, hidden by clouds or, more frequently, by light, that of the sun or of man-made light. We walked last night in a dark campground. The occasional light shone from a fire or lantern, but the darkness was deep. The Big Dipper looked ready to pour out its starlight, and straight above the Milky Way spread itself twinkling over our heads.  

We are exploring a bit of our own province with its varied landscapes. From coastal mountains into the interior plateau where dry grasses wave across the hills and scraggly pines line the horizon. 

In a small creek the Kokanee salmon are beginning to spawn, their bodies turning bright red as they struggle upstream to their birthplace  Kokanee are a type of freshwater salmon living in lakes rather than in the ocean  

Okanagan Lake stretches for 135 kilometres. It’s a popular destination for vacations with its dry hot summers, and an increasingly popular place for living year round. I’m so glad there are park lands set aside for everyone to enjoy. 

Above is a photo of Loch Ness, taken on a cloudy day in June. I confess to being a bit underwhelmed by the sight of this famous loch until I remembered that we have so many beautiful lakes in Canada. Loch Ness and Okanagan Lake have something in common - each claims fame to a mythical or seldom seen creature living below its waters. Have you caught sight of such a creature? 

Cawdor Castle: Living History

 

Our summer trip took us around Iceland followed by three stops in Scotland. The ship docked at Invergordon, and we had originally planned to spend the day wandering the town on our own. A fellow guest mentioned a wonderful tour they had taken previously and so, on the spur of the moment, as soon as we had internet access on our phones, we booked the tour through a local operator. I'm so glad we did. It was a full day with an excellent local guide. First stop: Cawdor Castle, near Inverness. 

photo credit: Historic Houses

Legend says that the Thane of Cawdor sent out a donkey carrying a load of gold with the idea of building a castle wherever the donkey stopped. The donkey chose to rest underneath a holly tree, around which the medieval tower was constructed. The tree, long dead, still stands in the lower level, protected by iron fencing. 

The Campbell family acquired the castle in the 16th century and has held it ever since. There have been family squabbles over the estate, with the current resident being the widow (second wife) of the 6th Earl of Cawdor, and the 7th Earl, her stepson, lives in another home on the property. The Dowager Countess lives elsewhere from spring until October during which time the castle is open for tours.

It's very much a lived-in building. The drawing room above is a cozy place. Pools of lamplight in many of the rooms, along with fresh flowers, made it seem as if the owner had just stepped out for a few moments. I believe the blue tartan runner seen in the corner is installed during the tourist season to protect the lovely carpets underneath. 

The Tapestry Room dates from the 17th century. The walls are covered with gorgeous tapestries commissioned for this room from Belgium. The velvet hangings add to the opulence. Both the bed hangings and the tapestries would have helped (and probably still do) keep the room warm in the depths of winter. 

We wandered through hallways, up curving stone staircases, through arched doorways, seeing about eleven rooms in all. The old kitchen stretched under a vaulted ceiling in the basement. A large selection of copper pots stood ready and waiting for the cook and her helpers to put them to use. 

We exited the castle the same way we entered, over the old drawbridge spanning the moat, now a neatly mowed space with attractive shrubs. 

The day was dull, but not yet rainy, so we explored the gardens.

One of my pie-in-the-sky dreams is to have a walled garden. I love the way one passes through a door in the wall to another world. This particular door led to a wooded area and a burn (stream) flowing through it. 

The wings of the castle protected this space where roses clambered up walls and vines grew to the eaves. 

Another, more formal garden lies a bit further from the castle. Here roses, along with other flowers, grow in beds bordered by neatly trimmed hedges. There is also a maze and other features to enjoy. We just didn't have enough time here. 

I'll leave you with another of the beautiful flower arrangements inside the castle. This was a lovely place to visit with an audio guide full of interesting tidbits about the building and its owners. Scotland certainly won our hearts that day. We would love to return on our own to explore further. 

Have you been to Scotland? 

On a Friday in August: Camping, Gardening,

 

Last weekend we went camping for a couple of nights with our three children and their families. Thirteen of us in all, two families in trailers (caravans) and two in tents, in a fresh-smelling forest not far from the beach. It was cool in the woods and warm on the shore, just as it should be. 

It's become a tradition that this Nana makes doughnuts for breakfast one morning while camping. Sausages and fruit go along with the sweet stuff. I make the yeast dough, roll, and cut. The guys do the frying, and the grands plus my daughter-in-law do the glazing and decorating. It's a jolly affair. 

The first night of camping went well; everyone slept and the weather was perfect. The next day at the beach was a lot of fun, but then someone looked at the weather forecast. Yikes! We rarely see thunderstorms, but one was headed our way that evening. So after dinner, the family with the two little girls packed up and went home. The rest of us battened down the hatches. Lightning zigzagged across the sky followed by immense echoing thunderclaps. Wind howled in the tree tops although it was fairly calm on the ground. Pinecones and small branches hit the roof of the trailer and we didn't sleep until 2 am when it was all over. All was well. Fun times! 

Gardens have been so very slow this year. I harvested basil and made pesto to store in the freezer to use when the cold seeps in and we need a hint of summer. 

I go blackberry picking. How fragrant the dark berries are, and how sticky. I've learned to pick berries with just one hand, holding the pail in the other. There are inevitable thorns, but the sweetness of blackberry syrup and blackberry-plum jam make the memory of thorn pricks fade. The sight of jewel-like jars lined up on shelves in the cool basement evokes feelings of satisfaction in having prepared for the winter. Gladys Taber says "I believe it is an instinct in man to store things against the winter, even when there is a supermarket a few blocks or miles away. It is part of the rhythm of life." I am glad that we do not have to rely entirely upon the produce of our garden or on what we've preserved for we would soon be thin as wraiths. 

I went out late one afternoon and saw six or so bees busy in the borage and oregano flowers. How quickly they flew from one flower to another. Perhaps they sense the waning of summer, too. 

Yellow and gold do not feature much in my garden, but in late summer the Rudbeckia suits the light and I enjoy the glow of the small patch I allow. 

Dahlias faithfully produce bloom after bloom. I deadhead regularly and cut bouquets of them for the house. I do love their symmetry and variety of colour and form. 

Something was eating my tomatoes. I purchased a quantity of organza bags and dressed dozens of tomatoes carefully, making sure there was plenty of room to grow. The bushes look odd, but I've not lost a tomato to the critters since. As an added bonus, I think the material prevents rain from splitting the fruit. Green beans are prolific; zucchini is a bust. There are several fat pumpkins just barely turning orange that will make delicious soups in another month or two. 

August teeters between summer and autumn. This year the weight seems to be leaning to an early autumn. Our nights are decidedly cool. September could turn it all around again. Weather is endlessly varied, don't you find? Meanwhile, we will enjoy the days as they come, like "pearls slipping off a string" as L. M. Montgomery once wrote. 

Wishing you all a lovely weekend. 

Friday Favourites: Baking, Flowers, Books

 

In the evening light the garden glows. I hate to admit to the waning of summer, but it's coming. Days are shorter, nights are cooler. Hydrangeas mellow from bright blue to soft mauves and beiges. Still beautiful. 

This week we enjoyed dinner with friends, eaten outdoors in just the right temperature. We didn't linger long, though, as cool air drifted in with the twilight. I made a peach-plum galette for dessert. Extreme cold last winter ruined the stone fruit crop in our province's fruit growing area, so peaches are imported from the USA - Georgia or California. I confess that they are not quite the same as our local ones, but still sweet and delicious. Not a crumb is left of the galette. 

Most of my poppies self-seed and are of the double pink variety. One lone stem of darker purple ones grew up among the squashes this week. I've marked it and will save the seed in hopes of having more next summer. Also in the garden, dahlias, zinnias (finally), rudbeckia, and roses continue to bloom. The grass is dry and brown, typical for our area, and shrub leaves are beginning to show that weary green colour of late summer. 

This week I also baked a fig clafoutis. The two of us polished it off over the course of a couple of days. I love this rich season of produce and try to use what's in season. 

No book photos, but I recently finished The Private Patient by P.D. James. I love all the descriptions of rooms and houses in the book, along with the puzzle of figuring out who did the dastardly deed. Always a delight to read this author. 

We All Live Somewhere

 

I have always been fascinated by the way people live - their homes, their furnishings, their customs. Last summer, on our road trip across Canada, we visited L'Anse aux Meadows, the site of a Norse settlement in Newfoundland. Those Norse settlers sailed from Greenland, but were originally from Iceland. So it was with great interest that we visited Laufas, near Akureyri on the northern coast of Iceland. Turf houses have existed here for 1000 years, rebuilt, added to, and altered over the years as styles and materials changed. 

Although the gables in the photo above looks like three separate buildings, they are all part of a large home that housed up to 30 people depending on the time of year. There are two more gables to the house not shown in the photo. You can see that there is only one door above. Constructed in the mid-1800s, the interior is furnished in the style of around 1900. The inside goes on and on, room after room, like a maze. Some have wooden floors, others are packed dirt. Altogether fascinating.

 

From the back of the house one can see that it is almost buried in the ground. The windows in the lower section look out from full height rooms, and the smaller ones at the top light a large open attic for sleeping quarters. 

The setting is magnificent with snowy mountains all around, sloping green fields going down to a marsh where eider ducks nest, and to the fjord beyond. 

Some rooms, like this dining room, have wood paneling on the walls, others are turf. It would be very cozy to sit down to tea at this table with its pretty cloth and porcelain dishes. 

Laufas was the home of the local priest for many many years. The last priest moved out in 1936 and the current priest lives just metres away. A wooden church, built in 1868, has a carved altar from the 17th century. 

From the eider ducks nesting on the marsh, soft down was collected, washed, and sorted in a workshop in the house. This was intensive labour and continues in much the same fashion today, a very sustainable practice. It takes 50-70 nests to provide enough eiderdown for one fluffy warm duvet! 

I was surprised at the amount of light in the house. The bedroom is at the back, where most of the house itself is hidden in thick turf and grass. 

In this room the pastor studied and received his parishioners. There is a separate door that enabled people to come more or less anonymously, not having to enter through a main door. Woven hangings decorate the wall and provide a bit of warmth in winter. 

All of the turf walls were constructed in a herringbone pattern, surely a laborious effort. 

Using earth to insulate homes was not uncommon. My paternal grandmother lived in a sod shanty during her early years of marriage. Nowadays, earth-berm homes, adobe shelters, and others are built as sustainable practices. People from long ago used what they had and adapted to the harsh environment to live as comfortably as possible. 

On an August Evening

 

It's 9:00 pm and the lamps are on. Long summer evenings will soon be a thing of the past. This season seems to fly by. I don't want to think of the end of summer yet and am resolutely ignoring advertisements and social media posts that show autumn. Like Shakespeare, I think that "summer lease hath all too short a date." But I know that our summers are pleasant affairs without excessive heat and humidity, unlike other places in the world. Are you enjoying these summer days or wishing for autumn? 

We've been away for a couple of days, visiting my parents on the mainland. I had hoped to write a blog before we left, but that didn't happen. There have been outdoor meals with friends and family, morning walks, time in the garden, reading, and all the usual things that make up daily life. 

Our apricot tree was very generous this year. I made a big batch of Apricot Jam. It's my favourite - I can taste the sunshine and warmth when I eat it in the darker, colder days of winter. There were a few upside-down cakes and an apricot-blueberry platz - a dish from my Mennonite heritage. Here's a link to a plum version, the same dough, just different fruit. And of course, we ate a few sweet apricots out of hand, juice dripping down as we took a first bite.

We arrived home from the ferry around 1:00 pm this afternoon, quickly unpacked, and then I worked in the garden in spite of the heat. Later, I cut flowers for the house and had fun photographing them with different settings. I think the increased light exposure adds softness to the dahlias now on the mantel.

Several of my rosebushes are between blooms, but Lichfield Angel is a mass of creamy flowers. It's so luxurious to pick a big bouquet of them. I chose a moodier setting for them and think they look almost like an old painting. These are for the dining room table. 

Hydrangeas are the most generous shrubs, producing long-lasting blooms. The crystal vase was a wedding gift of many years ago, and I use it regularly. 

Anne Morrow Lindbergh wrote, "Arranging a bowl of flowers in the morning sun can give a sense of quiet in a crowded day - like writing a poem, or saying a prayer." Filling vases with flowers or greenery is one of my favourite things to do, and I love catching glimpses of them as I pass through the various rooms of our home. Plants and flowers make a house come alive. 

On the window sill by the breakfast table a row of old glass food and drink containers hold just a few stems - feverfew, roses, rudbeckia, hydrangea - bits and pieces from around the garden. 

This weekend we'll be doing a couple of airport runs, picking up children and grandchildren from vacation trips. Friends of one daughter will be staying in our guest room since hers is already full. Fortunately, they live close by and there will be much going and coming. 

Darkness has fallen completely now. My pillow is calling me. Tomorrow will soon arrive, another beautiful August day.