On Friday: It's a Mixed Bag of Weather

 

My writing desk in a corner of the dining room. Photo taken a day before this writing.

A candle flickers on my writing desk this morning. Outside my window rain drips down. My view across the rooftops stops at a line of pointed fir trees not too far away, the distant Sooke Hills shrouded in soft mist. Below my window the gold of a fading lilac bush is dull, but the raspberry canes, still holding on to pale red leaves, glow through the droplets. 

My current writing project has me waking early some days, and as thoughts and words begin to flow, I pull myself from my warm bed, add a cozy robe, and go down in the darkness to this corner. A pot of tea is made, and a rice bag heated in the microwave, for it is indeed chilly. After an hour or so, I hear my husband stirring and I return upstairs to ready myself for the day.

Last night we had neighbours over for coffee and dessert. The guys drank coffee from mugs, we ladies enjoyed tea in china teacups. All of us ate a piece of Cream and Apple Pie, adapted from a recipe by Patricia Wells from her cookbook Bistro Cooking. As we stand on the porch to say our goodbyes, the cold rainy air washes over us and we are glad to return to the warmth of the fire. 

These rainy days are interspersed with occasional sunny ones, and how wonderful it is to see the blue through golden oak leaves. Soon they will all disappear and the spare architecture of branches will stand stark against the sky.

I've been eating vegetables as part of my breakfast. I actually enjoy vegetables more than fruit. Thinly sliced and oven-roasted sweet potatoes topped with a scrambled egg and accompanied with crunchy cucumbers make a satisfying breakfast. 

One more glimpse of gold and blue before I head out on this very different drizzly grey morning. There are groceries to purchase, and I plan to visit a local garden shop that is all set up for Christmas. I'm starting to get excited for the season, are you? 

On Friday: Heat, Flowers, Panna Cotta

 

As the afternoon heat builds, the garden stills, everything quiet under the baking sun. I do the same. This morning, in anticipation of guests arriving, I made salads (mediterranean pasta salad, green bean and radish) and a marinade for the flank steak. Before we eat I'll slice red juicy tomatoes (alas, not from our garden yet) and drizzle olive oil and balsamic vinegar over them and toss torn basil leaves atop. 

I cut flowers this morning, too. There is a lot of colour in the garden just now although the blooms do not last long in this third heat wave of summer. 

On the mantel a cool arrangement of hydrangeas.

On the dining room table a fresh bouquet of roses. 

Last night I made Panna Cotta for tonight's dessert. I find that having dessert taken care of ahead of time frees my mind when I'm preparing for guests. This is an easy one to make, along with a cherry, blackberry, and blueberry sauce. I did unmold one ahead of time, for two reasons. One, I wanted to see if unmolding would be successful, and two, I wanted a photo for this post. 

I did refrain from eating it and put it in the fridge until later this evening. 

For the rest of the afternoon I'll be sipping on ice water and reading a book. It's too hot to do anything else. Oh, and to compound the heat, our skies are smoky from wildfires that cast an eerie orange glow on everything. How we (and other parts of the world) need rain. 

Happy Weekend, dear readers!

On Friday: Zinnias, Books, and Apricots

 

Zinnias are such cheerful flowers, so bright and pert. I cut a little bouquet for the patio table where I can see them from inside the house, as well as enjoy them outside. They last a lovely long time. 

A little visitor decided the flowers needed washing, so she pulled them out, one by one, poured water over them and stacked them more or less neatly on the table. You'll notice that the bird is getting a bath, too. Give a child access to water play and she entertains herself for long stretches of time. 

The other day when I was downtown having my car serviced, I wandered into Russell Books, one of our local stores. Books old and new fill two stories of inviting shelves with books that beg to be taken home. I'm not one to resist the siren call of books and picked up the little stack above. Thrush Green is an addition to my collection of Miss Read books. I never really got into reading the Alexander McCall Smith's No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency series, and I thought I'd try again with this book. As for the Little French Kitchen, well, with its colourful photos that feature dishes from various regions of France, it fairly jumped into my hands. 

With all three children living in town, there is a LOT of interchange between our homes. Furniture is used here and then there, baby toys make their way around, as do items of clothing. Books are passed around. Recently a food dehydrator and a portable barbecue are being shared. One daughter had no further use for the bookcase above, so it arrived here in our guest room. It's larger than the bookcase previously there, which will likely be taken to the thrift store. I spent a pleasant time rearranging books, taking some to other bookshelves in the house and bringing other books here. I recently culled quite a few books and it's good to have some empty space on the shelves. 

The little painting above the bookshelf is a watercolour done by my sister-in-law of the farm where my mother-in-law grew up, and my husband and his siblings spent many happy days. 

When I went to the market earlier in the week, the sign by the apricots said "last of the season" so I knew I needed to do something to celebrate apricots. This apricot tart was the result, a variation of one in Will Torrent's Pâtisserie At Home. It was most delicious to share with friends. 

Late yesterday afternoon the trees began tossing in the wind blowing in from the Pacific, bringing cooler air and, hopefully, a bit of rain to slow down the wildfires. Not enough is forecast to make much of a difference to any outdoor weekend plans. We just might have to dash for a bit of cover for a few minutes. 

Have a wonderful weekend, and thank you for reading my blog. 

Friday Favourites: Garden Promises and Books

 

May is the month when hope rises high in the human psyche. Capricious spring settles down a bit as she matures into summer. On our Island the grass is greenest now before the heat of summer turns everything brown. My own garden is exploding and next week I'll be pulling up rampant plants to give others some breathing space. 

Peony buds grow fat and round and will soon unfurl into lushly ruffled flowers. They are planted towards the back of the flowerbed and a couple of rose bushes have grown taller and hide them. I fear moving the peonies because they bloom so beautifully now, but I think that I'll be rewarded more by moving them to a spot where they can shine on their own. I've read that peonies are long-lived plants - even up to 100 years old. 

The raised beds in the potager are filling out. I always plant a row of cheerful marigolds at the front of each raised bed (there are three of them), for a spot of bright colour and also because they supposed ward off some vegetable-loving bugs. This is a good year for spinach and radishes and we've eaten lots of salads, and I've sauteed spinach and added it to other dishes, as well. Carrots, Swiss Chard, and beets are thriving. I asked my husband to set up the large trellis. One side will be for pole beans and the other for tomato vines. In the center I planted zucchini and butternut squash. 

While working in the garden yesterday evening, I spotted one ripe strawberry and picked it, then asked my husband to close his eyes and popped it into his mouth. Today there are more red berries and I plan on picking a few more tomorrow. They are very sweet and juicy with a flavour and texture far above anything that is imported from California or Mexico. The raspberries and blueberries are forming fruit, too, and it's always an exciting sight. Little Iris loves blueberries and I'm looking forward to picking them with her. 

You might notice a theme in the book stack. Since travel is limited this year, I decided to travel via books. On our library website I did a search for books with "Paris" in the title. France is the European country I've visited most and I am very fond of Paris. I only wish it were closer than an 11-hour flight. I've read the three books in the center of the stack and loved "Paris Letters" and "A Paris Year." I can't recommend "Seven Letters from Paris" as I found it rather trite. So, two more Paris books to read this weekend. Do you have a favourite holiday destination? 

It's the Victoria Day holiday on Monday - usually a major traveling weekend in Canada. However, this year, travel restrictions mean we all need to stay in our own regions. Our vaccination rate (for first doses) is increasing each day and we're hopeful that we'll have a "normal" summer. We are fortunate to live in a beautiful part of our province and don't have to leave it to enjoy ourselves. I am hoping that we can soon visit my parents across the Strait. 

Enjoy your weekend!

On Friday: Flowers, a Poem, and Light

The few wet flakes that fell on Tuesday hardly constituted a snowfall, but it was awfully pretty watching it come down. Morning snow is a gift of beauty, particularly when enjoyed from the inside a cozy home with a mug of tea to hand. The pansies have been torn and shredded by the wind and rain, but their colour is a welcome note in all the grey outside. 

Just this morning, without snow, and surprisingly, without rain, I read a poem by Malcolm Guite, an Anglican priest in the UK, that speaks, in his own words, "to those of us who crave the light and are naturally, and seasonally, cast down by the darkness and drench of winter, those of us for whom there is a hidden pact between the outer and inner weather." Here is his sonnet - and I confess to tears pricking my eyes as I read and remembered my own winters of the soul.

These bleak and freezing seasons may mean

grace

When they are memory. In time to come

When we speak truth, then they will have their place,

Telling the story of our journey home,

Through dark December and stark January

With all its disappointments through the 

murk

and dreariness of frozen February,

When even breathing seemed unwelcome work.

Because through all of these we held together,

Because we shunned the impulse to let go,

Because we hunkered down through our dark

weather,

And trusted to the soil beneath the snow,

Slowly, slowly, turning a cold key

Spring will unlock our hearts and set us free.

In the dark mornings it's so lovely to turn on the twinkle lights around the window. I mentioned to Tim that I was more reluctant to use these mini lights than the larger plug-in variety because of the consumption of batteries. It's expensive and not very eco-friendly to replace them. 

So my handy husband did some investigating and placed an online order, and in not very long at all, a small package arrived. Another 10 minutes of fiddling and voila! the lights are now electric. Amazing! He bought enough of the gadgets to do all of our LED twinkle light strings, but this is the only one he's gotten to. Such a smart man!

Although we've had enormous amounts of rain lately, around 8 pm on the past two evenings, there has been a cessation of water, and we've taken walks in the dark. It's squishy underfoot in the woods, with streams of water running down the sloping paths, but the air is so fresh and cool. Along the streets, light streams from houses and I can see bookcases and pictures on the walls, and all the cozy things that make a home. I wish and hope that there is much love behind the windows I see. 

In the dark, after we climbed the little hill to our home and saw our own home lights glowing, I crouched to pick a little bouquet of snowdrops from the patch underneath the holly bush. They are such pretty flowers and their season is almost done. 

It's time now to get on with my day, which involves teaching three classes, two Spanish and one Foods. New friends are coming for dinner tonight, and I hope the rest of the weekend holds some time for creativity and reading and a good long walk or two. 

Happy weekend, my friends!

Friday Thoughts

Are the days flying by at your house, too? I almost hesitate to hang another ornament on my grown-up girl's Advent calendar. I want these days to linger, allowing time for reflection and quiet. 

Instead, I find myself needing to deliberately quiet my mind while my hands stay busy. There are deadlines to meet, parcels to post, papers to grade, and lessons to plan. Can a deeply spiritual Advent season, such as I long for, be created in a busy life?

Yes, I think so. I've crossed some things off my list. Handmade cards have been a pleasure for me, but this year, I made a few then decided there were other, more important things to do. I'm baking less. 

I try to read something during my day that I can pull out of my brain at quiet moments. Recently, it was this, from the Celtic Book of Prayer, "Do you have only one minute? Hem it with quietness. Do not spend it in thinking how little time you have. God can give you much in one minute." 

"Hem it with quietness." Isn't that lovely? And so I breathe deeply, thanking God for the day, the moment, the people I'm with (even squirrelly Grade 8s), for beauty, for hope and love and joy and peace. For Him. For family. And I am quieted even in a busy classroom. 

And so another week ends. Stars hang on the mantel and in the sky, in between roaring wind and rain. We take our moments as they come, one by one, like pearls off a string. 

Wishing you all a weekend of wonder, with moments hemmed in quietness. 

Thoughts on Friday

The scent of mandarin oranges whispers "Christmas" to me. My parents would buy a box or two and keep them in cold storage in the basement. Each orange, wrapped in green tissue paper, had smooth skin that peeled easily, filled the air with exotic citrus, and tasted sweet.

Do you remember the wooden boxes? After the oranges disappeared, the box became any number of things - a shelf, a doll bed, the frame for a house. I think those wooden orange boxes started me on the path of a-box-for-everything.

For me, mandarin orange scent is Christmas, but for my children, who grew up in the jungle where mandarins grew year round, the scent reminds them of home. 

A couple of mornings ago Tim pointed out the full moon - in the morning! In the half light between night and day it shone fat and bright, framed by a few skimpy forsythia branches just off the deck. 

We're going through a cold spell - temperatures just below freezing at night, warming up to cool, but brilliant sunshine. Ice in the garden stays all day. 

I took a quick stroll with my camera around Government House on Thursday. How surprising, given the chilly nights, to see these fuschia plants so hale and hearty.

Rounding another corner on the path I spied hellebores just beginning to flower. Such beautiful creamy blossoms. 

Something else happened at Government House - but that will be a post for another day.

Back to the mandarins - what scents evoke Christmas for you? 

On a Friday Afternoon

On a Friday afternoon, I exit the school building and blink at the bright sunshine. Tasks of teaching fully absorb every thought during the day and I am almost disoriented now. As I drive home, my mind turns to other things, like the walk we took last Monday to the top of Christmas Hill. The city spreads before us, a medley of nature and human effort, with the Strait and Washington's Olympic Peninsula beyond.  

 A gnarly Garry Oak stretches moss-covered branches over the path, almost as if reaching to touch passersby. Once again I am reminded at how prodigious is life on this planet. Left to itself, nature soon takes over cleared fields and homesteads with blackberry brambles, thistles and broom. 

Life is prodigious, but I cannot pick and choose what will have life and what will not. I plant seeds and the miracle of growth occurs, or it does not. I can only wait and see, water and weed and hope for the best. 

"How odd," I think, "to be pondering planting and seeds when autumn is upon me." Perhaps, yet I'll be planting bulbs in the hope of spring blooms, and these pretty red leaves will become compost and nurture the soil.

I stop at the grocery store on my way home and buy a ready-to-bake pizza. Friday evenings are slow around here - dinner on a tray in front of the television. A BBC mystery, perhaps Miss Fisher, or Death in Paradise. It's lovely to think of sleeping past 6:30 am.

  
A weekend project besides the laundry and cleaning. A moto-style jacket. The fabric I'm using is behind the pattern. Wish me luck!

How's your weekend shaping up?

Back to School in a Garden

Teachers at my school went back on Monday. No students until next week. After a meet and greet in the school lobby, we all boarded school buses and trundled over to the Horticultural Gardens of the Pacific for in-service and lunch.
 

The day was drizzly and I had little time for wandering, but after lunch I went for a short walk. These photos were taken with my I-phone. I like a garden with some whimsy in it, like the planted rubber boots, and this succulent planter perched on a pedestal. 
 

This dwelling looks well-loved. The red and wood are great against the yellow flowers.
 

How many kinds of dahlias are there? I don't know, but I enjoy all of them, especially these pink-with-a-hint-of-yellow ones. 
 

Roses drooping in the rain. I was ever so slightly pleased/relieved to see that even beautiful gardens like this struggle with black spot on the roses. Our summer was so very dry (that's ended with a vengeance) that I didn't have much trouble with black spot in my own garden.

This weekend we will be celebrating the September birthdays in our family - 3 of them. Garden clean-up is also in the plan, if the rain stops. And I'd love to get to some sewing, if there's time. What are your plans?