June Days

It's 9:30 pm. There's still plenty of light in the sky, and the street lights have just come on. Birds have chirped their sleepy goodnights and the air is still. 

These days the garden grows almost visibly each day. Just now the strawberries are the stars of the potager. I've harvested at least 8 pounds already. It's a bumper crop in our area. We're enjoying them every day with our yogurt in the mornings. I made some strawberry preserves, froze several bags of them, concocted a fresh strawberry pie, and on Saturday we enjoyed a puffy oven pancake with mounds of fresh berries. 

For showiness, the poppies have taken over. Huge pom-pom like heads in grand profusion fill one corner of one of my vegetable beds. Two plants seeded themselves there and I let them be. There are others in the flower beds that haven't yet bloomed, so I'm looking forward to more of these beauties. 

I discovered that the poppies don't do well in cut arrangements. I put together a vase full yesterday and ended up taking it outdoors. I found the scent mild, and not unpleasant, but it seemed to stifle the air in the room. 

Last week's arrangement of roses and feverfew, along with lemon balm leaves, sprigs of lambs' ear, and some Portuguese laurel was a much better choice. I have a smaller version of this on the mantel now. 

Here's a collection of purple flowers from the garden today - clematis (General Sikorski), sage blossoms, heliotrope (I do love that vanilla/baby powder scent), foxglove, and lavender. The garden is a richness of blooms and each day I meander through it and discover something new.

I have 7 more instructional days of school, then a week of marking exams, writing report cards, and tidying up. I'm very ready for the end of the semester. At the same time, I don't want to wish away these June days, for they are so beautiful. How are you faring in this 6th month of the year?

In the 30 minutes it's taken to finish up this post, darkness has fallen. Silhouettes of trees and houses stand against a summer sky of not-quite-dark.  

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

Rambling on a Friday

I visited Butterfly World with my daughter and granddaughter last week. I caught Shadow, the blue macaw, trying to nap, his head resting on one branch, his body suspended, and his feet and tail resting on another branch. As he relaxed, I watched his feathers slowly fold together, dropping one at a time before his eyes closed. Every so often he would jerk, as one does in such an uncomfortable sleeping position. I wanted to go straighten him out and tuck him in properly.

He didn't seem to mind the discomfort and woke up looking quite perky. "Ah, that's better," he says, standing once again on his perch.

In my kitchen a modest (some call it more than modest) collection of cookbooks collected over the years sits on shelves. Lately, I've been perusing some of the older ones. I find it interesting the way food trends come and go. What drives food trends? I know that we eat differently than we used to. I make fewer casseroles and less starchy foods. This week I made lasagna for the first time in several years, and very delicious it was. 

We had company last weekend and I wanted something simple for dessert. In the 70s and 80s a group of Canadian Women published a series of cookbooks whose titles are based on the game of bridge. The Best of Bridge is the first one and others that followed included Grand Slam, That's Trump and other bridge-related names. I've used many recipes from these books over the years. 

For Saturday dinner I made a Sensational Lemon Roll - a sponge cake filled with a tart lemon and whipped cream filling. Our strawberry plants are loaded with berries and so I decorated the top with a few, along with some sprigs of mint. Our guests enjoyed it, and then we enjoyed the leftovers during the week. 

I wish you could see the roses in my garden. They began blooming in earnest. Winchester Cathedral, above, is fragrantly ruffled. See the white spider making herself at home there? I flicked away part of her dinner - a fly she'd caught and brought home. 

It tickles my fancy to think that some distant relative of this rose also blooms in the Queen's Rose Garden at Sudeley Castle near Winchcombe where we spent some time last summer. 

More of Winchester Cathedral getting ready to bloom. 

I've been reading the Rhys Bowen Royal Spyness mysteries. I've read most of them now, but out of order, and I hadn't read the first one. That's my current book. They are light and full of fun details about life in England during the 1930s.

I immortalized this unwelcome, but bright and valiant, buttercup with a photo before yanking it out. We have several neighbours who do not care for their gardens very well and as a result, buttercups are rampant. I dig them out when I see them, but this one bloomed up against the fence, so I'm giving it its time to shine.

With all the turmoil in the world, St. Paul's words keep coming to mind. These days, I'm thinking about delightful things like pretty pink poppies, fragrant roses, the scent of freshly cut grass, cool air rushing over my face through the wide open window at night, blue and white china, how my grandchildren make me laugh, and a host of other lovely things. 

How are you handling the doom and gloom of the world these days? What's delightful in your world?

Bring on Summer!

Beautiful, fragrant lilacs never last long once cut. About a week ago I smashed the woody stems with a hammer before putting them into the water and they've lasted almost a week now. The cooler temperatures help, too. 

I met a friend for a stroll around Butchart Gardens today. We are all hopeful that warmer temperatures are just around the corner. On Wednesday, the lowest ever temperature high was recorded for the day. 

Meconopsis Himalayan Blue Poppies bloom with paper thin petals surrounding golden centers.

This summer marks Canada's 150th birthday and a special breed of tulips commemorates this year. Canada 150 tulips are red and white, like our flag. Beyond the tulip beds in the photo above, technicians are laying the groundwork for the fireworks displays held each Saturday night during the summer. They are always spectacular. 

Colourful Cineraria filled beds with symmetrical flowers in bright pinks and blues. 

It's cruise ship season and the garden paths were filled with people speaking many languages, all united in their appreciation of beauty. 

The forecast is for a warmer weekend, and it's a long one; Monday is Victoria Day. I'm looking forward to some garden time, and an outing on the boat. Bring on summer!

Thoughts from the Garden

"In all things of nature,

there is something of the marvelous"

So said Aristotle all those years ago. The mosaic above was created last February, and I really can't better it. The protecting curve of petal, the cluster of stamens, the colours - all speak to me of the intent and design of God, the Creator.

Last year's spring growth was early according to the photos I looked at. This winter has been unusually cold for an unusually long time. Today, with temperatures around 6 Celsius, we dig some digging and looking. I transplanted the snowdrops; Tim did the heavy digging for moving a Portuguese Laurel from a pot to the ground, and for transplanting a small hydrangea bush. A few bulbs are poking up through the ground. 

In a sheltered corner this juxtaposition of life and death caught my eye. The empty shell of a poppy flower gone to seed, but underneath, springing up from the soil, new growth hints of the showy beauty to come when the poppies flutter their petals and flirt with the wind.

Here, too, a green budding hydrangea seems to look up at last year's papery blossom as perhaps my grandchildren look at me, recognizable, but oh, so different. 

I bought my first ever pair of Wellies! They are Joules Wellies from the UK and I love them! They are comfortable and squelch satisfyingly in the mud, and then wash off so easily. Much better than old runners. And the polka dots just make me smile.