October Daily 3

 

October...

Whole-hearted, happy, careless, free,

She lives her life out joyously,

Nor cares when Frost stalks o'er her way

And turns her auburn locks to gray.

from October by Paul Laurence Dunbar.

What a beautiful day for a walk around Rithet's Bog. Today he ran while I walked. So I dawdled with my camera. Those grey clouds sailed right over me and the blue sky dominated. I wished for my sunglasses. 

The mallards splashed and preened, chasing each other and creating great swashes of water before settling down to float quietly. 

Along the trail huge trees form curtains of red and gold and pale green. I stood on the little bridge and watched yellow maple leaves sway backwards and forwards before landing on the dark water like pointed moons. 

Where do you like to walk? 

Friday: A Changeable Day in May

 

This morning I walked to the library to exchange books. A few blocks along I realized I'd forgotten to tuck a mask into my pocket, so I returned home. While there I also changed my jacket for the wind was sharp and chill. On the way home I took a slight detour along the Bog - a wonderful park area in the midst of suburbia. Those dramatic skies held their water until I got home and then let loose with hail and lashing rain. 

The song of Redwing Blackbirds filled the air. Bright flashes of red show when the birds fly, and they always seem to elude my camera. This one was on the path just in front of me and stayed long enough for me to get this shot. 

After the rain and hail the sun came out, diffusing warm light in the garden. Wild violets are somewhat invasive, but they have restricted themselves to just one area of the garden so far, so I let them be. 

This weekend I'm looking forward to spending some time with this magazine. After my long walk this morning (about 4 miles in all), I sewed during the afternoon, working on projects that need to be finished before I begin others. I have a couple of lap quilts to get to the long-arm quilter, a baby quilt to bind by hand, and a small doll quilt to quilt and bind by hand. I enjoy the hand stitching and don't find it at all tiresome. 

We've been enjoying the fresh salads from the garden with spinach, radishes, and herbs. A squeeze of lemon juice, a drizzle of olive oil, and some salt and pepper are all that is needed to dress this produce. 

This weekend is Mother's Day - Covid-style once again. Contact with family will be minimal at best. Tim and I are planning a walk around Butchart Gardens on Sunday. I am so thankful for my own mother, and for all she is to me and the rest of her family. From her I learned to keep house, cook, sew, and love. She's a perfectionist and what she does is very well done. There have been many challenges in her life, especially early on, but she has demonstrated grace and faith throughout. 

Happy Mother's Day to those who will celebrate this weekend. 

Snow Days

 

Snow has fallen for two days, at times lightly, at times heavily, with fat flakes that splat against the window. I don't know the official accumulation, but in our garden there is at least 12 inches. Children (including our grands) are ecstatic: snowmen and snow-forts appear on many front lawns. Hills, even slight ones, bear evidence of gleeful sliding and trudging back up to do it all again. On my walk today everyone I met had a big smile and commented on the gorgeous snow. I know there are those who detest snowy days, but I believe they are huddled in their homes and not out enjoying it. It is treacherous to be driving - with so few snow days each winter, our area is not equipped with sufficient plows and removal equipment. People stay off the streets as much as possible. 

I find the snow incredibly beautiful. I love the way it transforms the landscape into something magical, blurring hard lines and reducing colour to contrasts of black, grey, and white. There's great conviviality as everyone clears off sidewalks and driveways, and takes time to lean on a shovel and converse with the neighbours. It's a jolly time. 

I'll leave you to enjoy these snowy scenes from walks taken in the past two days, and a few from my garden, accompanied by some favourite snowy day quotations.

A snow day, literally and figuratively,

falls from the sky

unbidden,

and seems like a thing of wonder.

Susan Orlean

Winter came down to our home one night

Quietly pirouetting in

on silver-toed slippers of snow

And we, we were children once again.

Bill Morgan, Jr.

Out of the bosom of the air,

out of the cloud-folds of her garment shaken,

Over the woodlands brown and bare

Over the harvest-fields forsaken

Silent, and soft, and slow

Descends the snow.

Longfellow

But now she loved winter. Winter was beautiful "up back" - almost intolerably beautiful. Days of clear brilliance. Evenings that were like cups of glamour - the purest vintage of winter's wine. Nights with their fire of stars. Cold, exquisite winter sunrises.

L.M. Montgomery

Snow was falling, so much like stars

filling the dark trees, that

one could easily imagine

its reason for being was

nothing more than prettiness

Mary Oliver

And since it's Valentine's Day, what's better than coming home to a cup of tea and a pretty cupcake (created by a daughter) to savour in front of the fire. 

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!

This and That in the First Week of April

Puffy cumulus clouds on the horizon and above the band of blue spoke of welcome rain coming. This photo was taken yesterday while walking around the Bog; as I look outside my window now, rain is dripping down. I can almost hear the dry ground slurping it up. The earthworms will be happy, too. 
  

A sharp wind blew, but once we were in the shelter of the trees in the Bog, it eased and the warmth of the sun penetrated instead of the chill. A flash of red caught my eye and we saw a very busy Downy Woodpecker drilling into a rather thin branch. 

A bit farther along bright robins clustered in a tree just beginning to leaf out. In the distance, winter skeletons of trees show clouds of green haze around them in that delicate, yet bright shade of early leaves. 

Lemons are plentiful in the grocery store just now, so a few came home with me to make Lemon Curd. I store it in the freezer in small jars. It's good on scones, toast, in tarts layered with fresh berries (soon they'll show up, too), or eaten by the spoonful. It's easy to make and here's the recipe I use. I adapted the method to ensure that it turns out reliably. 

Lemon Curd
1/2 cup butter (the recipe says to use unsalted, but I rebel)
3/4 cup white sugar
1/2 cup fresh lemon juice (I used 2 regular lemons and 1 Meyer lemon)
3 Tablespoons finely grated lemon zest
pinch of salt (omitted because of using salted butter)
6 large egg yolks

Melt the butter in a double-boiler set over barely simmering water.

Remove the pan from the heat and whisk in the sugar, lemon juice, and lemon zest. This is when you would add the salt, as well.

Add the egg yolks and whisk until smooth.

Place the double-boiler over the heat again, and cook, whisking constantly, until the mixture thickens. Make sure to scrape the corners of the pot well as you whisk. I occasionally run a silicone spatula around the edges to ensure that all of the mixture gets whisked. The mixture is done when it coats a wooden spoon and you can draw a line through it with another spoon.

Pour the lemon curd through a fine mesh strainer into a bowl. Let cool to room temperature, whisking occasionally. Refrigerate, covered, until ready serve. OR pour into small jars (I used the half cup ones) and freeze.

Lemon Curd will keep for a month in the refrigerator and much longer (several months) in the freezer.

On Saturday morning Tim saw a flash of feathers swoop across the back garden before disappearing through the hedge. All the birds at the feeders scattered. The feathers flashed again and alighted on a fence so that we could identify it as a Sharp-Shinned Hawk. We don't often see them quite so low to the ground and wondered if there were some little critters in our garden that piqued his interest. He hung around for awhile before flying off again. It took awhile before the little birds felt brave enough to risk the feeder again. 

I picked a little bouquet from my garden - hyacinths, muscari, a couple of frilly daffodils, and candy tuft. The green filler is lemon balm, now showing up everywhere!

Today in Foods class the students made chocolate cupcakes. It's such an easy recipe and it always turns out. Today, one group of students added 1/4 CUP of salt in place of 1/4 teaspoon. Oh my. I took a little taste and quickly disposed of it. Wretched! The girls (it was a group of girls) took it well, laughing about their mistake, and other students shared their cupcakes with them, so they at least got to have a treat. 

Such a mistake reinforces to me how inept many young people are in the kitchen. I would have expected them to question that amount of salt in any dish, but especially baking. I am frequently surprised at how many students do not know the basics of cooking anything. By Grade 8 I was cooking entire meals, and there are still a few who do that, but it's not the majority any more. Life skills like these are so important, I think. 

On the other side, to be fair, another student came up to show me a photo (on her phone) of a chocolate mousse cake she had made for her grandfather's birthday. She had decorated it with fresh fruit and it did look lovely. A cake to be proud of. 

I'd better get this posted before the second week of April is gone! I hope Spring (or Autumn) is showing up for you wherever you live. I've seen photos of April snowfalls that would be a bit discouraging. 

Happy April days to you! 

Taking Advantage of Weather Breaks

"In every walk with nature one received far more than he seeks." John Muir

Before the light faded (does it seem like it's a wee bit lighter later to you?) we set out for a tramp around the Bog. When entering the path, there's a choice to make, left or right. We usually choose left so that we can dawdle towards the end of walk and watch the ducks. Our choice of left didn't take us very far. Above is the path flooded by all the heavy rain we've been having. So we turned around the other way, walked to about the mid point of the trail and back again, allowing us two chances to observe the bird life on the open water.

It was a busy place, with mallards, American wigeons, Canada geese, and a coot or two. The sky was grey and overcast, but the rain held off until later in the evening. 

Rain and wind in the night were followed by hail in the morning, and very overcast skies on our drive to church. What a lovely surprise to see blue skies and bright sunshine when we came out. One little boy, about 2, said, "I should have worn my sunglasses." 

We decided to take advantage of the break in the weather and quickly changed and drove to Tod Inlet.

 Although the woods obscure most of the light, when the sun filtered through it rendered the forest a most magical place, full of sparkle and amazing detail, like the moss above. 

The creek feeding the inlet rushes along these days, collecting all sorts of muddy debris which it deposits into the inlet, turning the water distinctly green. 

Someone decorates a tree there every Christmas, and a few ornaments remained, along with strings of delectable seeds and pods for the birds to nibble on. 

"Beauty surrounds us" says Rumi, who continues on to say, "but usually we need to be walking in a garden to know it." Or perhaps the woods. 

After our walk, we went to the Seahorse Cafe on the water for lunch. I enjoyed a salad and warming French Onion Soup. Tim had a small bowl of Coconut Chicken Curry soup and a Mediterranean Chicken Wrap. Yum. 

As we sat in the bright light next to the window, we watched the clouds gather on the mountains, then drift downwards to the water and move across the inlet to drop fat raindrops and obscure the landscape. How pretty the boats, canoes, and other brightly painted bits and pieces looked in both sunshine and shadow.


Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Angie of Letting Go of the Bay Leaf. 

Fading Autumn

In Rithet's Bog, one of our favourite places to walk, the colour is fading. The brilliant yellow, gold, and red leaves fall to the ground and become dull. Soon grey and brown will dominate the landscape in austere architecture.

Red-winged blackbirds alight onto exploded rushes that sway back and forth. 

Rain fills the bog once again and the ducks return, swimming placidly among the weeds. 

A few wigeon pairs have appeared amongst the mallards. They all seem to get along well. 

An awkward skein of ducks alight on a sunny day. They circle, then land, forward thrusting feet acting as brakes on the water. 

A family walk around the bog yesterday. The three-year old perches on Grandpa's shoulders. Two paths intersect and the train-loving boy calls out, "Junction!" The girl cousins run ahead for a bit, then fall behind and run to catch up, legs pedalling like windmills. They pick "woodland bouquets" along the path for their mothers. 
By the end of the walk, I'm certain that the children have covered twice the distance of the adults. They finish up with a train formed by holding hands: smallest to biggest, with Grandpa included. 

It was good that we walked yesterday. Today the rain fell off and on most of the afternoon. It was a good day to stay indoors. I read and puttered and took a nap. Tomorrow is a statutory holiday here, in lieu of Remembrance Day falling on a Saturday. 

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

October is Here!

Welcome, October, my favourite month of the year. September hovers between summer and autumn. October sees true autumn: shortened cool days; brisk, even frosty nights; alternating sunshine and rain.

The dahlias still bloom prolifically. Every few days I clip another small vaseful. I can see them growing from my kitchen window and admire them at every stage.   

It's time to light candles and focus on home. Saturday I puttered about the house all day, making things sparkle for the beginning of this season. 

I washed the downstairs windows and cleaned the grime from the sliding tracks. Has someone invented an efficient way to clean these? A cloth and a knife for getting into those 90 degree angles are what I use. My few silver pieces gleam; baseboards are dusted, and the house seems to sigh in contentment.

We walked around the Bog this afternoon. Clouds teased us with their forays across the sun, but no rain fell. Hawthorne trees are rich with berries. The Bog is mostly dry, awaiting rain. 

A few trees, very few, show signs of colour. As these 31 days pass, more and more colour will appear and leaves will drop to the ground - perfect for scuffling.

After returning home I set myself up in the kitchen and made a big batch of pastry dough. Two unbaked pie shells rest in the freezer, ready for next weekend's Thanksgiving (Canadian) pumpkin pies, a Spiced Plum Pie will head there as soon as it's completely cool, and the dozen apple hand pies are diminished to less than half. For tonight's supper I used more pastry for a Tomato Pie, full of cheese and herbs.

Here's a link to the Tomato Pie recipe, on my other blog. I didn't use the pastry in that recipe as I'd made a big batch of regular pastry. I have to say that the one that goes with this recipe gives a richer flavour to the savoury pie. Also, I substituted the cheese I had on hand. The key is to letting those tomatoes drain for at least an hour. 

This was a lovely weekend. I'm left feeling rested and satisfied, and ready for the week ahead. 

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

A Walk Followed by Cake

Pink is coming! Such a welcome colour, and late to the party this year.

Saturday afternoon was the day set for an early celebration of Tim's birthday. The Vancouver couple were over for the weekend, but one of the local families was out with the Norwalk virus and they declined spreading it to the rest of us. We missed them, but were happy to miss the virus.

The sun shone in between clouds. A chilly wind bent the grasses and crawled along our necks. But once we got going, we warmed up. 

Auntie and Uncle are a big hit with the littles. In the bottom corner, a three-generation photo with Mister F's short legs stretching as far as possible to keep up with Daddy and Grandpa. 

Bird life on the Bog. Mallards, geese, coots, and more.

There's not a lot of green yet, but the colours and shadows caught my eye and I took this photo. When I looked at it on the computer, I noticed, for the first time, the blue heron against the rushes. Can you spot him?

Zoomed in a little closer. He certainly blends into the background. 

Tim's birthday isn't until the end of the month, but this date worked best (or we thought it would) and so we celebrated this wonderful man is dearly loved. 

Home again for Chinese food, followed by a massive cake. Since I wasn't cooking the main meal, I thought I'd put a little more effort into the cake. An Ultimate Sampler cake, inspired by Sprinkle Bakes. After making her cherry cake and the humming bird cake layers, I switched to my own recipes. The top layer is Chocolate Mousse, which is frozen ahead in order to assemble the cake. The baking all went well, the assembling, not so well. A disaster with the frosting had me racing to the store for ingredients and changing to my own recipe again. 

It was a fun experiment, but I'm not that impressed with the results. I think one or two flavours in a cake are plenty, no need for more. And it's massive. We didn't even eat 1/4 of the cake. I've frozen it in chunks (after scraping the mousse off) and we'll be eating it for a long time. Cake, anyone?

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