Days at Home

 

Last night after dinner the sunshine illuminating the bouquet of peonies prompted me to grab my camera. I love the frilly elegance of the blooms and their faintly spicy scent. They have not been too bothered by the wild winds we've had again, unlike the petunias whose blossoms are pulled loose occasionally. 

We celebrated two birthday girls this week, a 12-year-old and a 5-year-old. Each one celebrated with their friends and we got together for a family party on Sunday afternoon. The 5-year-old's mother, Ashley, made 11 stick unicorns for the guests, with rainbow manes. Each guest was able to choose flowers and jewels to glue on - Nana manned one of the hot glue guns. The girls were enchanted and rode their ponies aka unicorns around the garden. Ashley said she knew it was a bit over the top, but she's been studying all year for a master's degree and craved doing something creative. 

On a very hot July day in 2016 Tim and I walked in Frith Wood, part of the Laurie Lee Nature Reserve. I had not heard of Laurie Lee prior to our visit to the woods, and have been looking for his memoir, Cide With Rosie. When Tim's sister visited a week or two ago, the two of us spent some time in a used bookstore. I picked up a couple of books and then on my way out the door spied this lovely, like-new hardcover illustrated Cider With Rosie. I went right back to the cashier. It's a lovely tale, so far, of life in the early 20th century. I am looking forward to spending more time with the book. You can read about our visit to Frith Wood here. 

Dear Paris, by Janice MacLeod, is a collection of illustrated letters written by a Canadian woman living in Paris. Her observations of Parisian life are delightful to read. Makes me want to return to that beautiful city. 

Here at home Lichfield Angel rose (a David Austin variety) is just stunning. Such a proliferation of creamy pink blossoms. I wish I could have you all over for tea to show her off. The rose is named for a very old Anglo-Saxon carving discovered at Lichfield Cathedral in 2003. 

What's blooming in your garden these days? 

Strawberries, Spanish, and Flowers

 

Twice last week, I rode a small school bus down to Fisherman's Wharf with my students. Grade 11s on Monday and Grade 10s on Friday. Fisherman's Wharf is a bustling place where working fish boats tie up, where elegant float homes bob in the water, and where there are a number of great restaurants. 

My students line up at the Mexican restaurant where they can practice ordering their food in Spanish. It's hard to have an authentic Spanish-speaking experience here, but the staff at Puerto Vallarta Amigos are so kind and accommodating, allowing the students to interact with them in Spanish. The food is also very good - my go-to order is Fish Tacos. We've not been able to do this for a few years because of the pandemic, so I was happy to give the students this experience. 

Classes end on Friday, and next week is graduation and tying up loose ends. I'm happy to say that the school has found a good Spanish teacher - someone I know very well - my eldest daughter, who is shifting from teaching English and Humanities to Spanish, the language she grew up with, although we always spoke English at home. Retirement beckons once again for me, and I'm looking forward to it.

In spite of our continuing very chilly spring, the strawberries are ripening, ever so slowly. We're enjoying them sliced onto our breakfast bowls of yogurt and granola. Here they are fresh from the garden, still with a bit of soil on them. I rinse them just before using them and they keep for several days. 

Gertrude Jekyll is opening beautifully, with many more buds to follow. I love her fragrance and pink colour. In the background you can see small buds of peonies still waiting to open. It's a rather topsy turvy spring. 

One of the few open peony blooms. They smell so wonderful. I read recently that peonies are edible, but I've not tried them, nor do I think I will. I'll just enjoy their blowsy blooms and sweet fragrance. 

Is it chilly or warm in your corner? How is your garden doing? 

Friday Thoughts- Things that Matter

 

Dense fog greeted me when I pulled back the curtains this morning, brought on by yesterday's steady rain. How un-June-like this weather is. Weather experts tell us that we are experiencing La Niña - a cooler than normal weather pattern. El Niño years are generally warmer than normal. 

For many, many years South American fisherman noticed periodic warmer ocean temperatures occurring in December, hence the name "Little Boy" or "El Niño" because of the celebration of Jesus' birth around that time. Colder years were then named the opposite "Little Girl". 

Enough about the weather. In spite of it all roses are blooming! Boscobel, above, is a little droopy because of the rain, but isn't she a beauty? 

Peonies are just beginning to bloom, too, and we'll soon have pink and white blossoms galore. 

In a moment of extravagant faith I clipped the few roses that are in bloom, along with a couple of peonies. There are more buds forming and I am confident they will soon open. 

At the time of our second wedding anniversary, Tim and I were directing a children's camp. It was intensely hard work with long, long hours. We had two days off over our anniversary weekend and spent them away from the camp, in a small hotel in the town of Revelstoke. We mostly tried to catch up on sleep, but we did go out for dinner, and shopped for gifts for each other. Tim wanted a pair of binoculars, so that was his gift (still being used), and I had my eye on a crystal flower vase. It's the perfect size, as you can see above, for a small garden bouquet. 

Last summer, I filled the vase with roses and took it to our friends from Iran. Her mother was very ill with Covid-19, and Ate felt very far away and lonely. In September Ate returned home to Iran as her mother passed away. When our friends present us with Persian food or other items, they always arrange everything beautifully on pretty dishes. No paper plates or tin foil! I've taken to doing the same, and the dishes are always returned. However, although other dishes came back, my vase did not.

I told myself, "It's okay, Lorrie, it's just a piece of glass." But it was the one piece of glass that held many memories. Eventually, over the months, it became okay, although I did miss it.

Imagine my surprise a couple of weeks ago when our doorbell rang and there stood Ate and M with a tray of Persian baking, and a crystal vase with flowers. My vase had returned! But wait...M pulled another vase from behind his back - that was my vase with a long crack in the glass. They told us how awful they felt for breaking my vase and had looked through thrift stores for months and months, hoping to find something similar. Finally, they did. It's not the same vase, but very, very like. 

Now when I look at the vase, I remember the story of our second anniversary, but I also remember the kindness and persistence of dear friends. 

This week I made a Brown Butter Rhubarb Cake, posted several years ago on Jean's blog, Delightful Repast. I like it because it's a very tender cake, is not too sweet, and the rhubarb flavour is just perfect! A cup of tea and a piece of cake is such an uplift on dreary afternoons. Today, though, the early morning fog has burned off and the sky is mostly blue patched with white clouds sailing in from the Pacific. 

We're watching a couple of grands tomorrow while their parents cross the water to see the musical Hamilton. There will likely be a walk together, and perhaps some crafting. 

Have a beautiful weekend, my friends. 

Parties Galore

 

Dinner with friends. Three simple words that evoke much delight. On Saturday evening we met with two other couples for a dinner party. (The one scheduled for the previous week was cancelled due to a Covid exposure). We've been good friends for 20 years and getting together is always a treat. The hostess takes care of the main course, someone else brings the appetizers, and the third provides dessert. We all enjoy each other's cooking and are never afraid to attempt something different. 

Because of the Platinum Jubilee celebrating Queen Elizabeth's 70-year reign, I wanted to make a dessert that gave a nod in that direction. I ended up making something very simple, but quite delicious - a Chocolate Biscuit Cake. It's said to be one of the Queen's favourites. 

Julia Child said, "The dinner hour is a sacred, happy time when everybody should be together and relaxed." This was certainly the case on Saturday night. Laughter, good conversation, delicious food and drink, all combined for a most convivial evening.

On Sunday afternoon the family met to celebrate two birthdays. Sadie is now 10 and Iris is three. The two of them are so lovely together. In the above photo, Sadie is explaining about the card she made for Iris. 

This poor-quality photo captures the delight of the two little girls wearing their tutus and fairy wings. Iris is using a water gun (a gift from cousins) while she runs. Their exuberance made everyone laugh. 

There's a party beginning in the garden, too. While I've been watching the buds on the Boscobel and Gertrude Jekyll roses, Winchester Cathedral surged ahead and provided the first bloom. She's a beauty, but a bit fragile so I baby her a little more. 

Here's another view of Winchester Cathedral this morning. We have bright blue skies that are so welcome. Clouds, cooler temperatures, and more rain than normal are forecast for the remainder of June, so we'll enjoy every bit of sunshine we can! 

Are there any parties happening inside or outside at your place? Do share. 

Five on a Rainy Friday: Roses and Rhubarb

Mid-June. Outside my window the raindrops fall. I'm wearing jeans, a t-shirt, a light sweater, and socks. The socks are a nod to the weather, normally I go barefoot from May to September. I can hear the faint chirp of birds outside, along with the tumble of the dryer inside. 

The above photo is of Boscobel, on a non-rainy day. She's giving me great delight.

I stepped out into the garden for a few minutes for some mint, and went back for my camera. Gertrude Jekyll, and Secret, below, are blooming in the rain. 

My reading is not very exciting. I don't have the mental energy just now for anything challenging or very exciting. I'm re-reading Coming Home by Rosamunde Pilcher, and found her words about the beginning of the Second World War applicable just now -

"Afterwards, in retrospect, Judith was always to remember the war as being a lot like a long journey in an aeroplane...hours of boredom interspersed with flashes of pure terror."

I don't know about the terror aspect, but I fear this Covid-19 will be a long journey that is often boring and uncomfortable. And I say this from an Island deemed free of the virus. Restrictions still apply. 

Our border with our friends to the south, where many of my readers live, is closed. We are becoming quite appalled by the way a few people think that the border doesn't really exist. We've heard about boaters coming up to explore our waters as they always do during the summer. We welcome them, but I'd just like to tell everyone to stay away for now. Washington State has many, many more cases than BC - with more new ones every day. 

It's almost lunchtime here. I'm going to have some cucumbers, red peppers, and cottage cheese with pickled onions, sunflower seeds, and a drizzle of olive oil and balsamic vinegar. Followed by a square of dark chocolate for dessert. And probably another mug of steaming tea since it's a chilly day.

Being out in my garden fills me with deep content. We're enjoying fresh strawberries, not many, but enough, and last night I picked the first small bowlful of red raspberries, the perfect mix of tart and sweet. We enjoyed them with our breakfast this morning. The feverfew lightens up the dark corners of the garden. I let it grow to fill in spots, and it's easy enough to yank out where it's not wanted. The peonies, as you can spot, are bedraggled in the rain and dropping their petals like mad. 

 

In the kitchen I've been making rhubarb syrup for a thirst-quenching drink should the weather decide to warm up. The big jar is in the fridge, but the smaller ones are sealed and headed for the basement storage shelves. 

When we were in Europe last summer it was hot, hot, hot. I normally drink only water, but the cold "lemonades" they served were wonderful - not too sweet as we often make drinks in North America, but refreshing and tart. I'm attempting to make my own concentrates this year, with seasonal fruits. I think blackberries and raspberries will be delicious. 

There are lots of recipes on the internet if you do a search. I adapted a Rhubarb Syrup one to be heavier on the rhubarb and lighter on the sugar. 

There is a glimmer of light across the sky just now, behind the clouds. A good reminder that Light is always present, even on the darkest days. 

Weekend plans include some gardening, some housecleaning, a bit of baking, and getting together with friends on Sunday. How about you? Any plans? Are restrictions easing in your area? Happy Weekend, my friends.

Five Things Close to Home

Hooray for strawberry season! Now that Iris has gone home, I'm letting other people (like Tim) eat the strawberries. To be fair, there were just a few ripe when she was here. I picked a cereal bowl full of them the other evening, and there are more today. 

However, I'm feeling very Mr. McGregor-ish these days because the BUNNIES are eating the ripe berries. They take bites from the very juiciest red ones and leave the evidence in plain site. Such cheek! Last night I was busy with my netting and covered the berry plants. It will take a bit more effort to pick them, but at least we will enjoy the berries we've grown!

I had a physio appointment this morning and since the office is directly across from the Bog, I took along my camera and went for a walk after the treatment. The Bog was empty of people for the first 30 minutes. There have been cougars sighted lately, and so I picked up a sturdy stick and walked with vigor, letting my stick trail in the pathway or swish the grasses. Making noise tends to scare off animals. 

Daisies bloom in clumps among the tall grass. In some places the grasses wave about my head, and arch over the pathway, creating flowing, wispy tunnels. 

I caught a glimpse of two deer in a clearing just off the path. They stood silent, still, watching me very carefully. My first view of them was through the waving grasses and the photos taken there show clear grass and blurry deer. Just a few steps forward and I was able to get a clear shot of the deer, still so quiet and motionless. 

While walking up the street to our home, I admired my new rosebush - a David Austin Boscobel - pink with just a hint of peach. She's a small bush now, but valiantly producing fragrant roses. There is another new rose beside Boscobel, also a David Austin - Falstaff. He's not quite as ready to bloom, although there are buds forming. 

Into the house to admire the peonies on the dining room table. The light streams in from the corner windows in the evening, when this photo was taken. What's not visible in the photo are the piles of papers and school materials. Just a few more weeks and all that will be cleared away. 

Now it's time to get to work marking assignments and preparing the same for next week. From my window I see puffy clouds and patches of blue. If I am diligent about my work there will be time to spend an hour or so in the garden this afternoon. 

Happy weekend!

May Days at Home

"May and June. Soft syllables, gentle names for the two best months in the garden year: cool misty mornings gently burned away with a warming spring sun, followed by breezy afternoons and chilly nights." Peter Loewer

9 pm. Light lingers long. This evening, for the first time, I walked without a light sweater or jacket. It feels like summer. Beautiful days. Yesterday, Tim and I walked to the top of Christmas Hill. Butterflies flitted here and there, lots of them, chasing each other among the grasses and trees, alighting on the ground from time to time. Painted Ladies, gorgeously designed. 

Radishes are ready in the garden these days. And strawberries. I like the long French Breakfast radishes. They've become part of salads, dipped in melted cheese, and eaten plain. I like them sliced on buttered bread, too, with a bit of salt.

In my mind, a bit of pickle elevates a salad or a sandwich. On Saturday I did a quick pickle with red onions and another with radishes. Ready the next day for whatever takes my fancy. 

The jar holding the radishes is old - my mother used it for canning when I was a child. It has a glass lid and she used to buy rubber rings for sealing. I don't know if rubber rings like that are available any longer. The old zinc screw top still works like a charm. 

Lilacs and bluebells have given way to peonies, ruffled beauties with a delicate, sweet fragrance. There are plenty to come in the garden, and a bouquet of them is opening in the house. 

I found a spot for a new rosebush - a David Austin Gertrude Jekyll. Each evening I observe how the buds are forming and will soon open with the lovely warmth we're experiencing. 

The blueberry bushes are loaded with fruit. I'm amazed at how quickly the plants go from bare sticks to fruit. Spring and summer are so urgent in the garden after the long dormancy of autumn and winter. 

A couple of years ago a yellow poppy appeared unbidden in a corner of my garden. I let it linger and it rewards me with a spot of brightness in what is otherwise a bit bare at this time of year. A lovely bit of serendipity.

Two new little items for my kitchen - a Garlic Store by Mason Cash. It has air vents and a lid with a little hole in it for lifting. The copper oil dispenser is perfect for drizzling olive oil on vegetables for roasting, or salads. I like the shape of both items. William Morris' advice to "have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful" is something I like to adhere to.

Finally, one last rose - this a John Cabot climbing rose that really climbs. I cut it way back each year and each year it rewards me with bloom after bloom. This is the first. 

I leave you with these words by Mary Berry: "Without doubt, without hesitation, I choose gardening over the gym. I can't stand going to the gym. It doesn't appeal to me at all. Give me gardening every time." Ha! Me, too. I tried a gym once, but gave it up after not very many visits. 

Now in the Garden: Mosaic Monday

It's always a bit of a thrill when the garden begins producing. One evening this week I thought I'd go out with a small bowl and see how many ripe strawberries there might be. I ended up returning to the kitchen for a bigger bowl and filling it to the brim. Sweet and juicy strawberries are a great way to kick off almost-summer.

Then I pulled up a bunch of radishes. I got mine in late this year; usually they are the first thing to harvest. 

To go along with dinner last night I paired the radishes with cucumber, fresh snipped chives, and a simple dressing with olive oil, white wine vinegar, salt and pepper. Crisp and delicious. Bring on summer food!

My potting bench needed a serious tidying up, so that was done this weekend. I cleaned up the paperwhites from Christmas (still in their glass containers), scrubbed pots, threw away old plastic pots, and swept off the bench. It looks much better now and is actually usable for potting, not just for throwing things onto. 

The stars of the garden just now are the roses and peonies. I'm torn between clipping them for the house and leaving them in the garden. Fortunately, there are enough to satisfy both places. 

I've been talking to the roses and peonies out in the garden, complimenting them on their showiness. I do it quietly as I wouldn't want the neighbours to think me entirely batty. 

A day or two ago, I heard my neighbour talking: "Good morning, Mrs. Robin," she said, "I can hear you singing your pretty song." 

Instantly, I felt better. Do you talk to your garden or the wildlife that happens by? 

Linking with Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie of Normandy Life. 

Just Before Thanksgiving

Sometimes, weeks don't turn out as planned. Each year, on the two school days before Canadian Thanksgiving, our school gives the students time off while the teachers go to a conference. It's a great time of learning (for the teachers) and having fun together. 

On Monday night, I came down with a sore throat that turned into a cold. So, no conference for me. I stayed home. By Friday I was feeling much better and rather wished I had gone. My colleagues were happy for me to NOT share my germs, however. 

I rescued some flowers from the garden from an impending rain and windstorm. Those white roses, Winchester Cathedral, have wicked thorns and I plunked them down onto the table without much fuss. 

I gingerly separated this one bloom from the bunch and posed it for its portrait. Such a pretty, fragrant flower. 

This basket of tomatoes and squash were also rescued. We've been eating the little Millionaire tomatoes like candy, for they are so sweet. The bigger tomatoes were cut in half, sprinkled with chopped onion, fresh thyme and oregano, drizzled with olive oil, and roasted until the house smelled like an Italian restaurant, redolent with flavour. 

Our Vancouver kids arrived last night for the holiday weekend, and I made the effort to prepare a special breakfast. A fresh corn tortilla, lightly crisped, topped with sauteed onions and sweet peppers, topped with guacamole, one of those luscious roasted tomatoes, and a fried egg. A few sprinkles of Cheddar cheese finished it all off. Very filling and very delicious (patting myself on the back just a little).  

On the mantel a cheery vase of hydrangeas and sunflowers seem apropos to the season. 

Dinner preparations are what's happening around here today - turkey, savoury stuffing, crumb-topped sweet potatoes, and more. We'll gather tomorrow with our children and grandchildren. Truly, we have much to be thankful for.