Friday Favourites on Saturday

 

There we were, walking with friends along a wooded path. As we approached a couple standing very still, they put their fingers to their lips, then pointed upwards. In the middle of the afternoon (do owls suffer from insomnia?) a Barred Owl watched us from a branch just above our heads. I think Tim could have reached up and touched him. We watched each other for several minutes, the owl and I, then his feathers fluffed and he flew, low and silent, so close that Tim felt the wind of his wings. A magical few moments. 

I clipped a bouquet of Lichfield Angel Roses from the bush that keeps giving and giving. Creamy pink or salmon, depending on the light, with a delicate fragrance. They made me smile every time I passed through the dining room. Those particular blooms are now spent, and I will cut another bouquet today.

"All in all, it was a never-to-be-forgotten summer -

one of those summer which come seldom into any life,

but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going..."

L. M. Montgomery (Anne's House of Dreams)

Slowly, slowly summer changes to autumn. It's autumn in the morning and summer in the afternoon. I keep a light sweater handy and pull it on when I walk. Yet it's still so lovely to sit on the patio with a cold drink and enjoy the garden later in the day. Cosmos dance in the breeze and the bees - my how busy they are - buzz about the dahlias. The birch tree leaves are aging to a dull yellow-green.

The vegetables continue to produce - green beans to share, tomatoes, kale, carrots, onions - so much delicious goodness. The basil has outperformed itself this year - huge leaves that are large enough to make into cabbage rolls. (Not that that is in the plan.) I've made pesto for the freezer and dried the leaves, shared with family, and am throwing it with abandon into any tomato dish and vegetable soups. And oh my, the apples! It seems to be a mast year. Along many streets there are boxes set out along the curb inviting anyone to take free apples. Our trees are loaded and I'm processing and sharing them as time allows. What's your favourite way to use apples?

"Dear old world," she murmured, "you are very lovely and 

I am glad to be alive in you."

L. M. Montgomery (Anne of Green Gables)

The world is indeed a beautiful place despite the heartaches everywhere. I am becoming more and more convinced that social media feeds the violence and nasty rhetoric so prevalent in the world. AI plays a large role in this. I'm restricting time on line more and more, and feeding my mind with the best and most lovely writing and images. 

This week I read a book by Caroline Moorehouse, Village of Secrets, about a French community who defied the Nazis and saved many children from certain death. It was not always easy reading and I wept for the little ones clutching their soft toys as they were led away to the death camps, and I rejoiced when others crossed safely to freedom into other countries. 

Other books read recently were Ann Cleeves Cold Earth, from the Shetland series, and J. L. Carr's A Month in the Country, both easier reading. Shetland is currently being reshown on our local public broadcasting station (Knowledge, available throughout Canada), and we are enjoying watching it. It's especially fun to recognize some of the places we visited during our day in Lerwick last summer. 

A small bouquet of the same Lichfield Angel roses for my bedroom. How sweet they are in the sunshine. 

With the cooler temperatures and the focus on indoor living increasing, I'm inspired to do some deep cleaning, clearing out cupboards and drawers, and rearranging things neatly. So satisfying. I began yesterday and will continue on. 

Wishing you days of golden light and sweet peace. 

Friday Favourites: Here and There

 

The deep rasping caw of a crow high in a treetop sounded like autumn this morning. When I walk into the garden I cringe at the invisible spider webs that I walk into between the tall beanpoles and the sunflowers. A few moments ago I stepped outside and saw the waxing moon glowing red from forest fires. All these things add up to a changing season. Although the days are very warm, even record-breaking, once the sun slips away, coolness descends. Summer when the sun shines; Autumn in the darkness.

We try to take a yearly camping trip, just a few days, with our family. The past weekend was the date we settled on. Tim and I went a day early and hiked to Hole in the Wall, seen above. The hole is man-made, drilled many years ago through rock to place wooden pipes to supply the nearby town with water. The pipes are long gone and water is sourced elsewhere, but the large hole is a definite attraction. We both climbed the rocky ledges and walked through the opening to the forest on the other side. 

"It was a lovely afternoon - such an afternoon as only 

September can produce when summer has stolen back 

for one more day of dream and glamour." 

L. M. Montgomery

On a hot day it was cool beside the shaded water. The air held the memory of wildfire smoke and we saw recent patches of fire damage. 

Once everyone else arrived at the campsite there was swimming, games, lots of chatting, and plenty of eating. We all take turns providing meals and it's become tradition that I make doughnuts. The deep fryer is packed when we know we have electricity, or else we use pots on the campstove. I make the dough, a couple of guys man the frying, and all the grands glaze and decorate. Our daughter-in-law keeps them under control. There is always enough to share with the neighbouring campers who can smell the donuts. 

Our youngest grand, Cora, begins kindergarten this year. It's a very gentle start, 90 minutes, then building up to all day. I collected her this morning after her short stint in school, and we went to Butchart Gardens. I laughed when she told me that the statue lady above was cold and needed a towel to wrap around herself. 

"Summer is dressing herself in showy dahlias 

and splendid marigolds and starry zinnias."

Oliver Wendell Holmes

Dahlias are the stars of the garden just now with so many varieties. Both Cora and I liked this pink one with the bee on it. We rode the carousel and enjoyed a little lunch in the coffee shop. A fun outing.

Other activities this week included blanching and freezing 5 pounds of green beans, making pear marmalade, and a peach galette. How delicious it was to enjoy a piece still warm from the oven. Next up is apples. Our trees are loaded this year, with plenty to share. 

I plan to make the most of these golden days, enjoying the fleeting days of warmth. How about you? 

Friday Favourites: August Ends with Sunshine

 

I don't need the calendar to tell me that the end of August approaches. The patch of bright Rudbeckia under the birch tree is a sure sign that autumn is just around the corner. While I love that beautiful season, there is a corner of my heart that wants to hang onto summer. The bees are so busy among the flowers these sunny days. I wonder if there is a hive nearby for they have been so plentiful recently. 

We wait all year long for deliciously sweet Okanagan peaches. Last year we had none because of unexpectedly cold weather in January, but this year there is a bumper crop. How sweet and juicy they are. I wanted to use peaches for a cold beverage to serve to guests. After searching online, I put together this most refreshing drink. 

Peachy Mint Lemonade

1 cup water

1 cup sugar or honey

1 cup fresh mint leaves

4 ripe peaches, peeled, pitted, and cut into chunks

1/4 - 1/2 cup fresh lemon juice

2 - 3 cups water or club soda

Combine the water and sugar in a saucepan. Heat until the sugar dissolves. Remove from heat, add the mint leaves and let cool completely. 

Place the peaches in a blender and process until smooth. Press through a sieve, getting as much peach pulp through the sieve as possible. 

In a large pitcher, combine the mint syrup, peaches, and lemon juice. Add water or club soda. Taste to adjust the lemon juice and water to your liking. Chill well and serve over ice, if desired. 

Makes about 6 generous tumblerfuls. 

Best enjoyed outdoors on a summer evening.

Cosmos are blooming like crazy just now. Mostly this medium pink, but a few dark ones and I spied some white ones just opening. I love to watch the flowers dance on their delicate stems when a breeze passes through the garden. They remind me of ballet dancers swaying to the music. 

The garden is producing abundant green beans. I cut, blanch, and freeze most of them to use in soups throughout the winter. My zucchini is not producing as well as it has in the past. Some years are like that. The other day I made Bacon, Lettuce, Tomato, and Avocado Sandwiches (shall I call them BLTAs?). There is absolutely nothing to compare with the sweet taste of a garden ripened tomato blessed by the sun. 

Sunflowers were planted late and I wondered if I would get any flowers at all. I'm watching the flowers forming now and think that in a few weeks they will open. Warm temperatures last through September here, so I'm confident I'll see some of those cheerful faces. I've noticed that it's not just the flower that turns toward the sun, but the entire plant. Throughout the day the plant shifts, following the path of the sun overhead. 

Another delicious dish using peaches is this Chickpea Peach Salad. It makes a lovely light lunch served along with bread. I substituted basil for the mint called for in the recipe, added cucumber chunks, and used lemon juice in place of lime because that's what was in the fridge. Leftovers keep well, too.

This week I've spent time with my two eldest granddaughters, on separate days. One wanted to sew a new book bag, and the other wanted to jazz up a pair of jeans. They both learned to use the rotary cutter and did very well. I neglected to take a photo of the book bag, but remembered for the jeans. Do they not have a 70s vibe? They just make me smile. Both girls enjoyed sorting through my stacks of fabric to find just the right ones for their projects. 

The jeans reminded me of my college days. Tim and I attended the same college and one day he asked me to mend his jeans. My roommate Carol and I decided to embellish the jeans with all sorts of floral embroidery. Oh, we had fun. Tim's face was a sight when he saw his jeans. He said he spent hours unpicking all of our hard work - he wasn't about to wear them in public! When I reminded him of the incident today, he said he would definitely wear them now. 

Labour Day is this weekend, followed by school starting on Tuesday. It's summer's last hurrah in many corners, and we've planned some family events to celebrate. 

I wish you all a most lovely end to August and a beautiful beginning in September. 

Friday Favourites: There and Back Again

"So where did your adventure take you, Bilbo?"

"There and back again."

J. R. R. Tolkien

Our adventure was much shorter than that of Bilbo's and much less eventful, but fun nonetheless. Above is our small boat (25 feet) in the very large and remote landscape of the Broughton Archipelago, a maze of islands and inlets between northern Vancouver Island and the mainland. It was very much like camping, but on the water, and we felt very very small. It's a rugged and weighty landscape, made even weightier when the fog rolled in and rain fell. 

Fog draped the mornings in ethereal mist for the first few days, mist that burned to sunshine by midday. Then the water sparkled and the colours shone. 

This coast is sparsely inhabited. Fewer people live here than once did around 100 years ago. Both First Nations communities and settlers have moved to larger centres, although the First Nations continue to hunt and fish on their traditional territories. 

There is little evidence remaining of the settlements where people eked out a living by fishing or farming. The stone wall above was built on the site of a former Catholic mission by a farmer/storekeeper who ringed his property with local stones. Artifacts such as glass bottles and broken fragments of pottery are found on the site. The doorway above was once an archway, now fallen and the stones scattered. 

Potts Lagoon is accessible only at high tide, with small watercraft. We took the dinghy through one day. Fields golden with grass bear witness to the man who cleared the land. Tides are inexorable and have made inroads into the fields, creating channels that twist and turn. 

One day there was a gale warning. Although there is little to no cell coverage, the Canadian Coast Guard provides weather updates via the marine radio on the boat. We hunkered down in Bootleg Cove, a very sheltered spot. Gusts of wind blew over and rain pounded down, but we were dry and cozy. We spent the afternoon indulging in a downloaded movie on Tim's tablet and I made hot chocolate and popcorn. 

Can you figure out the photo above? It's a seal, head and backside sticking up out of the water. He was playing peek-a-boo. 

Typical morning mist. Rocky islets and small islands dot the landscape, requiring close attention to the nautical charts. It was like being in a dream. 

After the fog left, the water looked almost tropical. Access to the land is difficult - there are few trails to walk as the forest is so dense. 

We were lucky to see three bear sightings. The first was a bear swimming across a narrow channel just in front of us. He paddled hard and paid little attention to us. 

Thousands of birds live here: Rhinocerus Auklets, related to Puffins with similar beaks, Gulls of all sorts, Eagles, Cormorants, Osprey. 

Sometimes, the islands look as if they were castle walls, impenetrable, rising straight out of the water, and making access difficult or impossible. 

We watched another two bears forage along the shore at low tide. They looked at us briefly, then returned to the business of filling their stomachs for soon-approaching winter. 

The sunny days ended after the gale passed and each day the rain fell, in drizzles and in sheets. We ventured into Simoom Sound where Captain George Vancouver anchored his ships, the Discovery and Chatham in 1792 and spent a week surveying the coastline. There is a small isthmus that he walked across, and I would have loved to do the same, but the weather precluded that.

One evening around 8:30 we were reading and heard a series of distinctive deep exhales. Dropping our books we ventured out and sat on the deck to watch a pod of orca whales swim into our anchorage and slowly circle out again. The light was fading resulting in poor quality photos. Magical. 

Despite the rain that caused us to return home earlier than planned, we had a wonderful time. I think that Simoom Sound, even drenched in rain, is one of the most beautiful places I've been. A thousand shades of green that shifted colour throughout the day. When the rain stopped the water looked as though it were a piece of charmeuse silk I could pick up and slip through my fingers, smooth and soft. 

Since our return a few days ago, I've been doing laundry, taking care of the garden, and visiting with family. It's always good to be home. Like Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit, I'll close with 

"If ever you are passing my way," said Bilbo, "don't wait to knock. Tea is at four; but any of you are welcome any time." 

J. R. R. Tolkien 

Friday Favourites: Here and There

 

Outside my window the faintest streaks of orange and pink are quickly fading into darkness. And it's only 9 pm. By the end of August our days will be about 1.5 hours shorter than at the beginning. It seems that the garden is well aware of the shortening days, too, and everything is in a hurry to ripen. There are many apples on our two trees this year and we'll be picking them in a few weeks. Apple Crisp, Apple Pie, fresh crunchy apples - such a delicious fruit. 

One of my hydrangea bushes produces enormous mopheads in a variety of colours - brighter then softening to these purple and blue hues. Just a single mophead is filling a low vase on the coffee table, like a pot wearing a flowery hat. 

When I paint I use a scrap of watercolour paper to test my colours. I had the idea to draw designs in those daubs, and quite like the effect. It's now a bookmark used by my husband. I think I'll plan on doing more of these. 

The roses are showing off just now with plentiful large blooms. Secret, above, glows in the evening light and smells wonderful. Another rosebush, Boscobel, is covered in coral-pink blossoms. Last summer when granddaughter Cora took a sniff, she said, "It smells like baked raspberries." Quite descriptive for a three-year-old. 

After reading about planting flowers among vegetables to encourage pollinators, I seeded some cosmos at the end of a couple of beds. They are blooming profusely now and are constantly full of bees. 

This morning I picked a pound of green beans, several tomatoes, much basil, and two fistfuls of sweet peas. With some of the basil I made a puree and froze it in ice cube trays. The rest I set on a platter to dry. There is much more basil in the garden and I'll be making pesto later. 

A few weeks ago my eldest daughter and I were chatting and I mentioned seeing an advertisement for 40% off David Austin roses at a local nursery. Cristal jumped up, "Let's go!" So we did, each bringing home two rosebushes. There wasn't a great selection, but we chose Harlow Carr, a pink rose, and Molineux, the yellow one above. How pretty it is. 

I am taking a blog break for a couple of weeks and look forward to catching up with you all on my return. 

Friday Favourites: Slow August Days

 

August - a month of contrast, of winding down, of full summer. Already the days are shortening. The sun glows with fierce intensity, but slipped over the horizon, coolness descends quickly. Now in the garden golden Rudbeckias add their brightness. Roses enjoy a second flush. Sweet Peas carry on with their abundant and fragrant blooms. 

"Bees blew like cake-crumbs through the golden air, white butterflies like sugared wafers, and when it wasn't raining, a diamond dust took over, which veiled and magnified all things."

Laurie Lee, Cider with Rosie

Our across-the-fence neighbour grows thornless blackberries that droop over into our garden. "Help yourself," he says, and we do. He is disappointed that the berries never become very sweet, but they make wonderful sauces and jams. 

In every neglected corner of the city wild invasive blackberries sprawl. Armed with clippers, people wearing long-sleeves as armour against the fierce brambles, pick buckets of the sweet berries. I freeze them for baked crumbles in the cold of winter. 

"The kitchen smells of spices and syrups, mint and sweet pepper. It is the time of 'putting up,' a rewarding time for country folk. 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."

Gladys Taber, Stillmeadow Calendar

Dahlias are slow to bloom, but are coming along now. Soon there will be enough to clip a bouquet. They are such lovely long-lasting flowers and will bloom until the first frost, usually in October. I'm hoping some of the brighter varieties will soon show their faces. 

I love these lingering summer days and am in no hurry at all to see them pass. We sit and read on the deck in late afternoon and when dinner is done. Often, the book waits while I admire the garden. I notice the immense sprawl of the Red Kuri Squash plants with their huge leaves. There are at least eight squashes forming and I look forward to their harvest in another month or so. The Sugar Pumpkins planted by the little girls are growing round and orange, delighting them and me. Pole beans are climbing ever higher, with bees buzzing around its flowers. Tiny green beans are beginning to form. Almost every day I pick a cucumber to slice into a salad. 

"My garden - oh, the delight it has been to me this summer! I am positively revelling in flowers. Roses - such roses!

L. M. Montgomery, The Complete Journals of L.M. Montgomery, The PEI Years, 1901-1911

We had a Black Mission Fig tree for a number of years that produced a few early crop figs and lots of second crop ones that never had a chance to ripen before autumn. Three years ago we replaced that tree with a Desert King variety known for its plentiful early crop. This year dozens of figs hang heavy on the branches. I've made a delicious fig and onion jam to eat with crackers and cheese, and for this evening I'll be preparing a Fig and Blue Cheese Flatbread for guests. 

The sun has risen over the hedge now at 8:30 and dappled light covers the back garden. It's time to leave my computer and do the things I want to do today. There will be some inside chores and some time outside. All part of the rhythm of life. 

Wishing you a most lovely weekend. 

A Bit of This and That on a Sunny July Afternoon

 

One evening this week we drove downtown and watched the Snowbirds - the aerobatic team of the Canadian Armed Forces. This was a non-aerobatic display of precision flying in various formations. It was beautiful to watch the planes forming and re-forming so gracefully. I know it takes hours and hours of practice. 

On another day we took our youngest daughter and her family on a boating trip, again to Portland Island. We hiked a shorter distance with the little girls than with our older grandchildren. How interested they were in the boat and all the sights they saw along the way. Full of questions. Much less talking on the way home. Riding the dinghy from the boat to shore was a big hit. 

A chill wind at our picnic site meant we searched for the lee side of the point and enjoyed our lunch there. The Great Blue Heron was not invited and he searched for his own meal while we watched. 

The garden is producing cucumbers, lettuce, small carrots, zucchini, and lettuce. Blueberries and raspberries continue to be picked, but at a much slower rate than a couple of weeks ago. I think going to the garden and choosing a dinner menu from what is available is truly luxurious. 

On another sunny evening we visited Butchart Gardens. How surprising to see very few people there. It's not often that the view above is seen without crowds on the paths. There was a concert later and perhaps people were planning on arriving then. I didn't mind the lack at all. 

It's a truly lovely place at any time of the year, but comes into its glory in summer and autumn. 

The original Butchart family home is now a restaurant, with some living quarters for the family above. The two of us enjoyed a delicious dinner on the verandah, overlooking the perfect expanse of lawn and the Italian Garden. We wandered the garden paths before and after our meal, taking this time to celebrate our wedding anniversary. 

A few posts back I mentioned that one of my David Austin roses, Falstaff, was on notice. Well, it's come through with flying colours. The deep crimson roses have won my heart. They grow next to the pink/coral Boscobel and make a lovely couple in a vase as well as in the garden. I'll give the rosebush a good pruning in autumn to shape it and hopefully will be rewarded next summer. 

When I'm not gallivanting I try to accomplish a few things in the house and the garden, as well as continuing to refine my book. I'm beginning to speak with publishers and am looking forward to having it printed by Christmas, hopefully. Meanwhile, I made Cherry Raspberry Preserves and Black Forest Chocolate Cherry Sauce. The pantry shelves in the basement are filling up nicely. 

I read a very compelling book recently - The Frozen River by Ariel Lawhon. She tells the story (fictionalized) about Martha Ballard, a midwife in 18th-century America who investigates a murder and a rape. Not always easy to read, and a good picture of what life was like in those days. The writing is beautiful and I was moved to write the following words into my own journal. I hope you find them equally lovely. 

"I step into my husband's arms, soaking up his warmth and scent. We are in the twilight years of a long love affair, and it has recently occurred to me that a day will come when one of us buries the other. But, I remind myself, that is the happy ending to a story like ours. It is a vow made and kept. Till death do us part. It is the only acceptable outcome to a long and happy marriage, and I am determined not to fear that day, whenever it arrives. I am equally determined to soak up all the days between." 

May we all soak up all the days given to us.