Another Year Begins

 

Walking is my favourite form of physical activity, and the two of us began the year with a walk to Tod Inlet. These stairs reminded me of the new year - we climb each step, one at a time. There is shadow, there is light. We can't see too far ahead, but we carry on, day by day, step by step. 

There have been some very high tides - King Tides - although not today. Still, the water was very high, covering the old mossy cement pilings that usually stand high above the water. The water is always green, reflecting the coniferous forest surrounding the small inlet.

Several groups of brave people took a plunge into the chilly water today - they are much braver than I. 

Doesn't it look as if the gull is coming in for a landing? I laughed when I saw this. 

The mostly green/gray landscape is enlivened by a few bright berries still remaining on the bushes. 

Tea in the wild. We take squares of thin dense foam to sit on. They make such a difference. No more wet bottoms. The little snack containers were a stocking gift. They screw together, are made from recycled material, and are seal tightly. Young Iris was helping her mother choose who was to receive the different colours. Iris insisted that Bop (aka Grandpa) get the pale pink ones, and she would not be dissuaded. It's quite a compliment, her mother said, because pink is Iris' favourite colour. 

Two different ferry rides, one to the mainland, and one returning home. What a difference in colour! We enjoyed a good visit with my parents and dinner with all of my siblings. 

We arrived home yesterday afternoon, went for a walk with friends, and spent a quiet evening with just the two of us. We went to bed before midnight, but fireworks kept me from sleeping so I got out of bed and watched the fireworks taking place downtown from my bedroom window. They rose high in the air, exploding light in beautiful colour. 

I wish for you all a year filled with love and joy, and a deepening sense of who you are and of your place in this world. Happy 2023!

The Turning of the Year

 

The turning of the year invites both looking back and looking ahead. The first is rooted in memory; the second in hope and intention. I have never indulged in much formal retrospection. I've never done a post highlighting the 10 most-read blog entries, nor do I find them interesting to read on others' blogs. Of course, I love memories, but that's different.

However, this year, more than most, seems to invite a little reflection. My, what a year it's been. None of us imagined the upheaval and turmoil of 2020. All years are uncertain, for we never really know what lies ahead. We make plans and most times, they come to fruition, or we change them. We live life with an illusion of control. Perhaps 2020 taught us that life is fragile and plans should be held lightly. We have seen incredible goodness and kindness in people, and conversely, incredible selfishness. The convulsions of this year brought home the importance of resilience, and of the need to be strong spiritually, mentally, and emotionally. It's been tough. We've wept. We've been anxious. We've ached with longing to hug our loved ones. We've faltered. 

Next year, 2021, will begin with the very same problems and turmoil as 2020 ended with: inequality, racism, selfishness, and the big one, Covid19. There is hope that the vaccine will help with the latter. But even those results will not be apparent for several months, at the earliest. 

So what do I hope for as we step into 2021? 

I hope that you will see the world with eyes of wonder and awe, and that you will find solace in knowing the promise of Christmas, Emmanuel - God with us, through the days and moments of 2021. I hope that you will soon be able to gather with those you love, that you will hug and kiss with joy and abandon, and laughter will echo from the walls of your home. I hope that you will create community and a sense of welcome as you walk about the world. I hope that you read books that make you cry and laugh and ponder life. Move more. Be well. Love with abandon. 

First Friday Five 2020

First of all, can I just say how much I love typing or texting 2020? It's snappy and quick and makes me smile almost every time I do it. 

It's almost 8 p.m. and I can hear wind and rain against the house in the dark outside. This afternoon, while driving to the ferry to pick up youngest daughter and youngest granddaughter(!), I heard warnings on the radio about all the ferry cancellations because of wind. There was no sign of the storm when took a couple of photos, but it blew in fairly quickly. Ashley's ferry was on time and I'm glad she and Iris made it. She's here for a friend's baby shower, and I'm so glad to cuddle Iris once again.

I had a few extra moments so I drove down to the water and snapped some photos. The moss is thriving with all the rain we've been having. So green and lush. 

The Christmas decor is put away, but the puzzle is still on the dining room table. Finishing is unlikely, although I'll leave it out for awhile longer. 

We recently installed a new front door. The outdoor lights shine through in an artsy fashion that's kind of fun. The door is white inside and out, and will be painted come spring when the weather dries out and warms up. 

Do you, or have you ever, chosen a focus word for the year? If you have, did you find it meaningful? I'd love to know specifically how. I did chose words several times a few years ago, then left it behind. However, recently, one word keeps coming to mind, with multiple meanings that seem very relevant, so I'm thinking about how to incorporate that focus into something intentional for the year ahead.

If that sounds as wishy-washy to you as it does to me that's because I'm still pondering. 

Iris is tucked away for the night, there's hot peppermint tea to sip, and pools of lamplight making the living room cozy. Although Tim, Ashley, and I are engrossed in various individual pursuits we stop and chat and it's all very convivial. I'm going to post this and devote myself to chatting. 

Ending and Beginning

"For last year's words belong to last year's language,

And next year's words await another voice,...

And to make an end is to make a beginning"

T.S. Eliot, "Little Gidding"

The house is quiet and I hear the drumming of rain outside. My mug of tea is almost done. Last night we took down the Christmas tree and other decorations. Some years we wait, but I felt like making a clean start and I have yet to replace the items that normally stand on the mantel and other surfaces. There is beauty in spareness. 

Tim is at work for most of the day. This evening we'll enjoy a quiet dinner together - a seafood dish - and perhaps watch a movie together. Staying up to welcome the New Year might or might not happen. It will come either way. Tomorrow we'll enjoy getting together with our local family for brunch. 

When I was much younger, I calculated the age I would be at the new millennium. It seemed that I would be ancient! Now we're 20 years on and I'm even more ancient! 

In 2020 I hope you laugh until you cry, and that you will be comforted by friends and family when sorrow comes. I hope that you will eat well and move with energy. I hope that you will know how beloved you are and that God our Father longs for you. I hope that you will learn something new, smile often, and read books that take you to amazing places. I hope you see the world with eyes of wonder. 

Happy New Year!

These Quiet Days

January 3. A new year. It began quietly for us, with a cheese fondue, a movie, and bed before midnight, although the fireworks awakened us then. I've not done much thinking about intentions or goals for 2019, but then I rarely do. Do you? My take on resolutions is that if something needs to be done, I'm not going to wait until a new year dawns. 

The house is quiet; the only sound is the rain dripping on the skylight. A fire glows and spreads its welcome warmth. Outside is dark and wet. I sit in a pool of light in the living room, toasting my feet and sipping tea.

In between the many periods of rain, chickadees, house finches (shown), spotted towhees, dark-eyed juncos, and sparrows visit the bird feeder. How they squabble among themselves. Very entertaining.  

Two small girls and my eldest daughter came by yesterday. We set up the craft table and let the little girls at it. They crafted all manner of interesting things. I had thought to inspire them to make little alligators and they were quite excited it about it, but while waiting for the green paint to dry, they became involved in creating more free form items, so we left them to it, not wanting to nip their enthusiasm in the bud. In the end I finished up the alligators and they took them home. 

Alligator inspirations. 

I've had a couple of quilt tops stitched for some time, but have procrastinated on the quilting part. I don't enjoy that. Recently, my sister and niece purchased a long arm quilting machine, so I gave them two tops to quilt. Yesterday and today I cut and sewed the binding onto the tops and am now enjoying hand sewing the binding to the back side. It's very cozy having a quilt over the knees in this weather. 

I finished my first book of 2019. It did not disappoint. Inspector Gamache and the town of Three Pines are as irresistible as ever.

Penny references Rupert Brooke's poem "The Great Lover" in the novel, in which the poet makes a list of the things he's loved in his life. 

These I have loved:
         White plates and cups, clean-gleaming,
Ringed with blue lines; and feathery, faery dust;
Wet roofs, beneath the lamp light; the strong crust 
Of friendly bread; and many-tasting food;
Rainbows; and the blue bitter smoke of wood;....

Penny's character, Gamache makes a list of his own beloved things that help to ease his mind in difficult situations. I've been thinking of the things that I love. In a way, acknowledging them is a form of gratitude, and I find that being thankful also eases my mind. 

In spite of the rain outside, I have a few errands to run, so I'd better bundle up and get out there. 

Back from a Little Jaunt

On the second-to-last day of 2017, we boarded the ferry for a trip to the mainland. We spent a couple of nights in Vancouver, with our youngest daughter and her husband. I didn't take a single photo. The weather was chilly and sunny. 

We brought in the New Year with a crab dinner, watching Star Wars on Netflix, and headed to bed shortly after midnight. 

On the first we wound our way through Vancouver, crossed the Port Mann Bridge and drove along Highway 1 towards Chilliwack. As we approached Abbotsford, the scenery beside the road changed dramatically from greens and browns to crystal clear and white. 

The ice coating caused by the storm a few days earlier was preserved by the cool weather. The first photo shows a blank billboard along the highway that I decided to write in. 

My grandfather once owned a raspberry field alongside the highway. I spent a summer picking berries there and always think of him, and that summer, when I drive by. It's now a blueberry field, and although the second photo is blurry, the sea of white ice covering the plants is still dramatic. Each branch appears coated in clear crystal. 

Before driving to my parents' home, we stopped at the Great Heron Reserve along the Vedder River for a short walk and some photos.

As we walked along the trail, the sharp snap of ice cracking overhead accompanied us. Small shards fell and stabbed into the snow on the ground. The beauty was breath-taking, but also treacherous. Many were without power for several days. Branches and entire trees snapped under the weight of ice. 

It's amazing to me that more trees didn't collapse. The ice is so thick compared to the delicate thin branches. 

A larger view - a winter wonderland!

I'm looking forward to a few more quiet days at home before school begins. I've not had time to reflect on the year behind and ponder the year ahead. Some time writing in my journal and updating calendars will happen. Simple cooking. A little stitching. Quiet days. 

And now a huge storm is forecast for the east coast of Canada and the USA. One of my work colleagues is stranded in the UK with his son who played for Canada in a rugby match. We're assuming it's because of the impending weather. I hope and pray that those of you affected will remain warm and safe.  

Between the Years

While the rest of Canada and much of the USA are enduring deeply cold weather, we on the "balmy" west coast watch the rain pelt down. It's very grey outside, dull and heavy. The above photo was taken from my kitchen window - you can see how leaden the background is. 

So let's cozy up by the fire with a mug of tea (I can make coffee, if you'd prefer) and some treats. The photo shows my breakfast bowl of yogurt, berries and nuts, but that's long gone and it's time to break out the cookies. 

There's some Cranberry Orange Shortbread left, and Nanaimo Bars. My daughter made the shortbread. So pretty, and tasty, too. Help yourself. Take two. There's more in the tins.

The paperwhites bloomed beautifully, but didn't seem to have much scent this year. They were starting to fall over and the blossoms dry out, so I gave them a haircut. I don't want to miss any of this bright greenness that is such a wonderful contrast to dull outdoors. Twinkle lights on the mantel help, too. 

This is a photo from Christmas Day. So pretty. 

How has your 2017 been? It's been a good year for me, mostly, although aching loss and unfulfilled deep hopes have been a part of it. For the first time there was no parcel to mail to Tim's mum. No phone calls. We miss her. The deep hopes are carried forward into another year and we trust the God who loves us. 

Several days before the snow, there was frost. This is an untouched colour photo. Monochrome morning. 

Are you doing anything for New Year's Eve? We won't be at home this year. I took a few fast photos just before the guests arrived to our party earlier in the month. I love cheese, even the smelly blue stuff. I thought the cheese board looked so pretty. But I probably will do things differently next time. The mingling of the nuts wasn't a good idea - some are allergic to tree nuts, others to one kind or the other. 

The spread in the bottom corner is easy to make, and looks festive. Layer goat cheese with chopped sundried tomatoes, pesto, and fresh herbs in a clear glass container. I used a cylindrical vase/candle holder from Michael's. The clear sides show the layers well. 

In this week between the years, I hope you are enjoying some moments of quiet reflection. I know that I am. There's not much being accomplished around here. The beef stew mentioned in my previous post was eaten last night as we went out to dinner with friends the previous night. I finished watching The Crown last night. Today I'm doing a little laundry and will head out to do some errands. Reading, some stitching. Nothing pressing. Heavenly!

Off to a Slow Start

Happy New Year! 2017 began slowly around here, with a very little energy that is slowly increasing. School began today and I really wondered how I'd get through the day, but I did, and I feel pretty good. Enough energy remains to at least write a blog post! Thank you for all your kind comments - they cheered me up immensely!

The paperwhites are on their last legs, still pretty with their thin, parchment-like petals. 

I saw this Camembert Snowflake on Facebook and thought it would be something fun to make. Here's a link - although I'll warn you that some of the ads on the site are somewhat tasteless (haha). My version was made with Brie in place of Camembert. It tasted wonderful. I made it again in the mountain chalet and substituted chopped ham for the bacon, again wonderful. This would be great as an appetizer, or with soup for lunch, or just lunch. 

New Year's eve was spent quietly at home, just the two of us. We made an easy Mussels dish and sopped up the creamy sauce with crusty bread. We watched The Last King on Netflix, a Norwegian film about an event in the 1200s. The way those men skied was amazing! 

I wandered around the house with my camera and snapped these few photos. Above, embroidered felt birds dangling from the curtain add a bright note to the kitchen.

Another couple of paperwhite bulbs are started and will give some welcome blooms in a few weeks. A little cypress tree adds colour. The air plant terrarium was a gift from a daughter. These bright greens are so welcome in what can often be a dull month.

I'm not in the habit of making New Year's resolutions, although I do reflect on the year past, and ponder my intentions for the year ahead. I've not gotten around to thinking much of anything recently, so that will have to wait.

For now, I'm content, sitting by the fire, replete with a dinner of Cheesy Polenta and Roasted Vegetables, and I'm not even going to grade any papers. Time enough later. The tree is down, but all the other decorations adorn the piano, the mantel, and other surfaces. I'm in no hurry. Perhaps this weekend.

How is your year beginning? Slowly, or with a bang?

What I Did During My Christmas Break

Early on Boxing Day morning, we said good-bye to my parents and began packing up for our trip to Mount Washington. My throat was a little scratchy, so I kept a cup of tea and honey close by. Then I started feeling a wee bit achy, took an Advil, and perked up immensely.

When we arrived at the parking lot below our chalet, snow was falling in thick flakes. We weren't quite certain where to go, but Daughter #2 knew a bit more about the mountain and guided us. No motorized vehicles are allowed, so everything the 11 of us needed for four days was hauled up by sled. Fortunately, it wasn't too far to go, but there was a steep incline, and I'd forgotten how hard it is to trudge through fresh snow. It was a wild time. Children were brought in, crying with cold and wet, for we hadn't thought to have their snow gear ready. Mr. F. desperately wanted his mother, but soon settled against my chest while I sang to him, while his mother helped get stuff indoors. 

My achy misery increased.

To make a very long story very short, I had the flu. I lay around for three days on the couch doing nothing. Nothing. No playing with the littles in the snow. No skiing. I barely managed a short walk the second day. The third day I just gave in, put on a movie and drowsed. The ache was dreadful. I felt cold most of the time.

You can guess where this is going - next to succumb was a son-in-law, both daughters, Miss S, then Mr. F. Oh, I felt even more dreadful. As one of my children commented, "Mom's a good sharer!" But everyone was so kind: making tea, running a hot bath, heating up my rice bag (thrown in at the last), and letting me lie on the couch.

On our last day, I felt well enough to accompany Tim and Travis (son) to their cross-country ski lesson. I thought I'd sit in the lodge and take photos. Then I thought I felt well enough to do a little snowshoeing, so I did. I felt decidedly brave to venture out on my own. These photos are all from that 2 hour snowshoe adventure, my only excursion. 

Weather conditions during the two hours varied from thickly falling snow to clear sunshine. When I rounded a corner and saw the light glowing on a scrawny tree, I knew I'd reached the entrance to Narnia. Alas, no one offered me tea, nor did beavers approach me. 

Magical loveliness around every corner.

From one vantage point I could see the chairlift where the other adults were, or had been, skiing. 

A small flock of gray jays flitted in and out of a tree, landing on the outstretched hands of a group of girls, also snowshoeing.

By 2:30 the shadows stretched long against the snow and by 3:00 the light had noticeably changed.

I was glad to see the lodge appear when it did, for I had reached the end of my energy. A cup of hot chocolate fortified me while I waited for the others.

So. The week did not unfold as I had planned. However, it was still a good week, and I certainly had a great view from the couch. We'll chalk this one up to making a memory.

Happy New Year! Thank you for reading my words. I appreciate the blogging community in ways I could have never envisioned. I've made delightful friends, been inspired by your posts to think about things in different ways, and I've emulated some of your projects. I'm looking forward to a great 2017!

Away We Go!

Cheese fondue and a movie at home were our efforts at making the evening a special one. And it was. We've gone to parties in the past, and enjoyed them immensely, but this year, staying home was most attractive. We stayed up to see the New Year in, then headed off to dreamland.

This morning, after breakfast with our Vancouver-based kids who stayed with us for the past few nights, we puttered around the house. A mid-afternoon walk to Tod Inlet resulted in the photos in this post. 

By 2:30 the sun slanted low and filtered through the trees.

Although the turning of the year is an artificial construct, purely for humankind's benefit, it signals the passing of time, and I find it useful for both looking back and looking ahead.

My sweet husband gave me a macro lens for Christmas. I'm having fun (and a bit of frustration) learning how to use it. The photo above captures much of what I love about January: quiet, soft colors, a bit of moodiness.

Tod Inlet used to be used by the Butchart family (of Butchart Gardens) as the loading area for shipping the cement from the quarry and factory. These pilings are remnants of a once-busy small port.

This week has been clear and cold enough that ice formed on the water. Only the birds are light enough to stand on it. 

Another macro shot. The focused area is quite small and I'm looking forward to a lot of practice with this new lens. 

A creek flows into the inlet and runs along the trail from the road. Ferns grow on the forest floor and moss drips from the trees. These mossy branches remind me of a long-legged bug of some sort. 

The house is quiet now with our visitors gone. I took down the tree and Christmas decorations so that I'm ready for school to begin again on Monday. Has it really been two weeks already?

Neil Gaiman has written some wonderful New Year's wishes. Here's one of my favorites, that I send to each one of you in hope for 2016.

"May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness.I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art - write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself."