Five on Friday: Delights of the Week

This week we've had WEATHER. Lots of it. Snow, wind, more snow, freezing rain, sunshine, wind, and more rain. Two no-school snow days. 

1. I'm still delighting in the snow, although many people are getting thoroughly sick of it all. I admired the way the snow caught on one of the metal porch chairs, so delicately caught in the swirls and curlicues. 

Our patio and back yard. It's been a long time since we've seen this much snow all at once.

The row of pots awaiting spring, each pot topped with fluffy snow meringue. 

2. And then the sun came out. Blue sky. White snow, dark trees. Perfectly elegant. 

3. The grandkids came over to play in our sloping back yard. Whee! Down they went.

Then trudge, trudge, back up again. They stayed for lunch, eaten in the living room because that's where the sun was shining in. 

4. A snowy Valentine, caught in a tree. Love to you, it says.

5. Tim was up Island today at meetings, so I was on my own for dinner. Some sauteed vegetables, a bit of turkey sausage and cheese folded into an omelette and topped with chopped cilantro and green onion hit the spot, along with a little leftover coleslaw. What do you eat if you're on your own? 

I watched a Father Brown mystery while I ate, and as the episode opened, I thought, "I know that place!" And I did - it was Sudeley Castle where we visited last summer. Such a beautiful place, where stories from the past lurk around every corner. How fun was that!

Weekend plans include celebrating a 3-year-old's birthday, baking Valentine's cookies, some house fluffing, and a Monday off for BC's Family Day long weekend. 

Linking to Five on Friday, hosted by Amy of Love Made my Home. 

Snowy Days

Those of you who live in more northerly climes will surely laugh at our paltry snowfall that wreaks such havoc with normal life here on the coast. I grew up in the north and hearing of Victoria's inability to cope with snow was cause for some derision. 

I understand better, now. We have minimal snow removal equipment for it's not needed every year. Temperatures that hover just around freezing make for very slippery streets. And I'll confess that many people here lack the skills for driving in snowy conditions. So things slow down, or shut down.

All that to say that when I got a text early yesterday morning saying that school was cancelled because of snow, Tim thought I'd gone nuts. There's something about a snow day that is like a gift - no plans made, and no obligations.

He, of course, had to go to work. I spent a leisurely early morning drinking tea, reading blogs, and relaxing. Then I thought I should get some milk, so I pulled on my snow gear (the temperature was just under the freezing mark), and set out for a walk. 

It was so pleasant that I took the very long way around the Bog and arrived home with a bag of groceries a couple of hours later. As you can see from the photos, (taken with my phone), it was a good day for ducks. I've never seen so many of them all together. 

The view from my windows is magical. I cradle a cup of hot tea as I walk from view to view, admiring the transformation that snow brings. 

Blueberry bushes, buds swelling, cradling delicate snowflakes.

And the view from inside - pretty spring blooms while the snow falls. I took all of these photos yesterday morning; it snowed all day so there is much more on the ground. Today is another snow day off from school - the roads are treacherous although the snowfall has ceased. And by Thursday, the high is forecast to be 9C. Such weather!

Staying Safe on the Coast

On a weekend that has been raw with patches of indecisive rain/snow, Tim and I have begun planning our summer boating trip. Our coastline is a beautiful place, its scenery varied and breathtaking. Danger is present, as well as beauty. Swirling currents, plenty of chunky bits just under the surface, strong tides and lots of marine traffic means that we need to know what we're doing out there on our little boat.

This morning, after church, we joined some friends at the Coast Guard Communications Centre for a tour. The centre overlooks the water, through the trees (and you can see patchy snow there, as well).

From this large room, with dozens of computer screens glowing, Coast Guard members monitor marine traffic. Radar sweeps across the screens, lights indicate the movement of large ships, ferries, tankers, and more. 

While we were there, a call came in - a small (28 foot) pleasure craft had hit a log and was requesting a tow. Since it wasn't an emergency, other boats in the area responded.

Most lighthouses on our coasts are unmanned, functioning by solar-powered batteries. There are just 12 lighthouses manned by humans along the west coast. The Coast Guard checks in on them regularly by radio and by boat with supplies. 

Things are fairly quiet on the water just now. Once the weather warms up and more pleasure craft head out, the traffic increases exponentially. Our friend, the tour guide, told us that calls come in about once every 20 seconds in the busy season.

Most calls are relatively uncomplicated, but emergency situations require immediate response, and often lives are saved by the quick action of the Coast Guard. 

I'm glad they're listening to the radio, and ready to respond. It makes me feel just a wee bit safer out there on the water.

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

Finding Colour in Winter

Last weekend, my sister and her husband came for a short visit. They brought three bunches of tightly closed tulip bulbs. I've so enjoyed watching them open this week, little by little. 

Today, snow is falling. Heavily, then lightly, but steadily. It's wet and mostly melts when it hits the ground. However pretty it is to watch, the leaden skies suck all the colour from the landscape. I'm happy for these cheery tulips indoors.

On my kitchen windowsill, paperwhites continue to bloom. I've not noticed much fragrance from them, but the splayed and ungainly leaves add green freshness, and the blooms are dainty. 

Another bunch of tulips, purchased earlier, is on its last legs. This bloom drooped sideways, and like an ageing woman, it's developing fine lines as it dries out. Still beautiful and sculptural. 

The first week of the new semester is over. Once again I was asked to take on another course, for the first term, at least. It's English 10 and I have a wonderful group of students. My French and Spanish courses are done for the year, and I've started with Foods 8 - a bit like herding cats! 

Today they made mango salsa. I came in early and prepped the supplies. When I laid them out on the table, another teacher stopped by to admire the colour. So I took a second look, then picked up my phone and took a quick photo. The students did well with their knife skills and enjoyed eating the salsa with corn chips. 

Here's the recipe if you want to try it:

Mango Salsa

1 large mango, peeled and diced
1/2 sweet bell red pepper, finely diced
1 green onion, sliced thinly
1 jalapeno pepper (or 1/2) seeded and finely diced
2 Tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice
2 Tablespoons chopped cilantro (optional, but delicious!)

Mix all, let sit 30 minutes (or eat right away). It's also good on grilled chicken or fish. 

Snow continues to fall. I'm going to make a cup of hot chocolate and enjoy watching the scene outside. 

Linking with Five on Friday, hosted by Amy of Love Made my Home. 

January in a Garden

I had a few hours free on Friday due to the semester changeover at school. I get together with my girls fairly often for tea, but rarely with my son. So I arranged to pick him up at his office and we went for lunch together. It was fun. I hope to do it again. 

After lunch, since I was out towards Butchart Gardens, I stopped by for a walk. Alternating sun and clouds made for interesting photos; some drab and dull, others imbued with faint winter sunshine. 

There was very little in bloom, so I focused on the architecture and decor of the garden. Above are a pair of bronze herons in the star pond.

A graceful figure in the Italian Garden pond.

Also in the Italian Garden, but in a curve of the hedge, is a statue of Mercury. It was interesting to see, later, when I went through the display in the house...

this invoice, from Italy, for that very statue, dated March 12, 1927. The interior display runs for only a few months as it takes space from the restaurant and tea rooms. They are not as busy in these months. The artifacts on display change slightly from year to year, so I like to see what's there. 

A view into the Italian Garden through an arch in the hedge. Mrs. Butchart's conservatory/sun room is seen in the top window.

In these months of fewer visitors, I like to go against the flow of traffic and visit the gardens backwards. Do you find that you see things differently when you view them in a different order? 

These stepping stones, with the red bridge beyond, are one of my favourite places. All the curved lines and tangled branches juxtapose nicely. 

There were a few things blooming, such as this witch hazel tree. Its blooms look like a bunch of ribbons gathered together in little bouquets. The red entrance arch to the Japanese Garden is in the background.

During these quieter months, the Blue Poppy cafe is turned into a Spring Prelude Garden, filled with winding pathways, flowering bulbs, and lots of orchids. I can never quite decide if I like orchids, or not. Do you?

No question about the tulips - they are such cheerful flowers, especially in these vibrant shades. 

A little path lined with daffodils was the cheeriest thing, all bright and golden. I exited into dull grey spatters, but the golden hope of spring stayed with me as I drove home, windshield wipers flapping back and forth. 

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

No Pretty Pictures

Blogging experts say to never put up a post without a photo. Well, I'm doing just that. I'd like, instead, to tell you a little story. It's a story that hasn't ended yet, but a brand new chapter has begun. I can't give you names and too many details in order to protect the characters, but this is a true story. 

A Canadian archaeologist and her husband spent quite a lot of time on digs in Syria. While there, they built relationships with the local people. Hardworking, honest people who wanted only to make a decent living for their families, to sit around a table with friends, to educate their children, to laugh and eat and drink. In peace. 

Then came war. A war that ripped the fabric of Syrian life apart. Safety and security disappeared. There were no more archaeological digs. Food became scarce, safety illusory. Horror grew.

The Canadian couple began the refugee process for this family of several grown siblings and their dependents. One by one the families are coming to Canada. To relief from war, from fear of bombings and brutality.

In November I wrote a post about helping our daughter and son-in-law finish a basement suite. 

I'm so pleased that today, in that tiny two-bedroom suite, lives a beautiful little family. A father, a mother, and two small, very small, children. They have peace. They are surely homesick for what they once knew. They feel alien. They need to learn English and will begin classes in a few weeks. 

When it snowed, the father took his little daughter outdoors and she was enchanted, playing and laughing as snowflakes fell. 

Our children came home from work one day this past week to find that their back yard, once full of lumps and potholes, had been dug and smoothed, and is ready for grass seed. The young father and his brother, also newly arrived to Canada, want to work. They need something to do. And so they did this. 

Our daughter visits the young mother and her children; she goes down for tea and they communicate in broken English, lots of sign language, and plenty of smiles. 

I am proud, oh so proud, of our children, all of them. Our other children have donated generously to help refugees. This pair has given time and space and money to help provide a refuge for refugees.

During the second World War, there are many stories of Christians helping Jews. But there are also stories of Muslims hiding Jews. 

This is not a political post. This is a post about people, real people who are grateful, so very grateful, for a chance to build a new life with their children. 

"I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me." Matthew 25:35

Five Beautiful Things

The world seems so full of divisiveness and disrespect these days. I've decided to stop reading a lot of news and focus on the beautiful things in my week. 

Number 1: This lovely pair of mallard ducks on Rithet's Bog last Sunday. How calm they are. How unworried. How elegant.

Number 2: A female mallard flashing her blue under feathers as she grooms herself. Is this flirtatious behaviour? Do the male mallards find themselves attracted to these hidden feathers just as human males were once tantalized by the glimpse of a shapely ankle?

Number 3: A small collection of spoons. Each one tells a story. The one on the left is a baby spoon given to my husband by his paternal grandparents long ago. The shiny gold rose-topped spoon was part of my grandmother's collection. And so it goes. I like handling pieces of history in my home. 

Number 4: The kindness of fellow bloggers is beautiful. When I showed you the pile of squares I'd cut to begin my Granny Square quilt, blogger Barbara, from Cornwall, sent me a packet of fabrics from her collection. They will be perfect in my quilt, and I'll think of her often, and tell people, "That piece came from England." Thank you, Barbara.

Number 5: One small patch of snowdrops hides in a corner in my garden. After work today, I ventured out to see if they were blooming. And they were! Tight buds yet, but with a little more time they will open their delicate drooping bells.

What's been beautiful in your week? 

Linking to Five on Friday, hosted by Amy of Love Made My Home. 

A Cultural Mix

Last spring I watched the Great British Bake Off via Youtube, and got all inspired to bake some British treats. Our trip to the UK last summer continued to fuel that obsession interest. The classic Victoria Sponge is one I've tried to replicate, but I've had a hard time finding a good recipe for the sponge. They turn out tough and chewy rather than tender. 

I've discovered that recipes that work in one country, with one set of ingredients, often don't work quite as well in another. I know that when we lived in Texas and Ecuador, my baking efforts required serious tweaking before I was happy with them. 

This Victoria Sponge is definitely not the classic. Instead of a sponge cake, I used a recipe for a Yogurt Cake (Gateau au Yaourt) that I've made for years. I baked it in two round cake pans and got two thin layers of cake. The raspberry jam is homemade from last summer, and made for a very delicious result paired with a cup of Lady Grey tea. 

A happy partnership between three cultures: British, French, and Canadian. Sometimes it takes global effort to be successful. 

Any recipes for Victoria Sponge that you've had great success with?  

How Green is Your Garden?

Saturday morning view from the breakfast table. Robins, sparrows, juncos, chickadees. Twittering, chirping, flitting. A fat robin pulls a long worm out of the lawn. Sunlight angles across the garden. One bald eagle glides across the hedge.

How could anyone stay indoors on such a lovely day? I abandoned thoughts of laundry and housecleaning, pulled on boots and gardening gloves, and spent a contented few hours cleaning out garden beds. 

There's life in those beds! Worms a-plenty to feed the birds and aerate the soil. Sharply pointed hyacinth leaves thrust upwards towards the light. Delicate, star-shaped moss clings to the rock wall. And the greatest surprise - one unfurling hydrangea leaf. 

It's early days yet, but these signs of the season to come hearten and encourage me.

I pulled all the beets and carrots that I'd sown late last summer. The most slender carrots I roasted whole, along with beets, peeled and cut up before popping into the oven for an hour or so. Delicious, garden-fresh sweetness.

Sunday's skies were not quite as pretty, but the rain held off and we walked around Rithet's Bog. Not many signs of spring there, but a harmony of browns and greys.

And lots of Mallard Ducks paddling around. There's still a spot of two of ice and several ducks waddled across, rather than swim around. It was a busy place today.

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

A Bit of This and a Little of That - Five on Friday

Today's five will be quick. 
1. Another photo from our beach walk last Sunday. I find the arrangement of detritus washed up by the waves endlessly fascinating. 

2. Progress on the Granny Square quilt. Playing with the various combinations of fabrics is probably my favourite part. I don't think any two squares will be the same. And some, in the end, may not make it into the final quilt. 

3. Recent reading. A Country Road, A Tree is a fictionalized account of Samuel Beckett's experiences during World War II, in France, working with the Resistance. It also focuses on his writing and how he distilled his words. I really liked it. Belgravia and Heirs and Graces were both enjoyable, quick and fairly predictable narratives great for relaxing reading in the evening.
I discover many of my books through recommendations on other blogs and others' reading lists. How do you decide what to read?

4. The grape ivy on the piano. I think I enjoy my indoor plants most in January. I love the green freshness they provide. This one needs repotting. 

5. More reading, in my favourite spot in front of the fire. I discovered Britain and take it out of the library from time to time. It fuels my desire to return to the UK with stories of places that seem wonderfully interesting. 

Linking with Five on Friday, hosted by Amy of Love Made My Home. I'll be reading the posts later today - now I'm off to work!