Five on Friday: Things that Made Me Smile

Regular readers might remember our family celebrated Christmas in a rented ski chalet. There was snow, lots of it. We hauled all our luggage, food, and gifts for the grandchildren up on sleds while the snow swirled around in torrents. 
I'd sewn nightgowns for the girls and a cute pair of pajamas for Mr. F - red, with little white cows. 
When the snow finally disappears on Mt. Washington, in May or June, I think a little parcel will appear, wet and bedraggled, and inside will be a pair of red pajamas.
So, at last, over the weekend, I stitched a new pair of pajamas for the young man, and gave them to him at his birthday party. With a Christmas label. Bugs this time, not cows.

While walking one afternoon, we came across a man walking his dog, and his parrot. I asked to take a photo. We occasionally saw wild macaws when we lived in Ecuador. They are so majestic flying through the jungle, bright wings outspread. Their colours are magnificent.

Mr. F is three. He had a bug-themed birthday party, with a gummy worms and "dirt" on the cake. Doesn't he look pleased to be sung to?

I tried something new this week - making marmalade. Seville oranges appeared in the store and I brought 2 kg home with me. Deciding on a recipe was tricky - there's a plethora of tips and variations out there. In the end, I used one from Canadian Living as I thought the sugar would be the same as what I could get. It tastes delicious, bright citrus sweet with a hint of bitterness from the peel. I enjoyed it first on a crust of freshly baked whole-wheat bread, and since then, on a bit of cheddar cheese.

The bouquet of tulips given a couple of weeks ago is reaching its end. I trimmed the stems to avoid legginess, and got another week out of them. Now the petals are twisting and drying - still pretty, but this weekend I'll replace them.

Happy weekend! Linking with Amy at Love Made My Home.  

Mosaic Monday: Valentine Fun

One set of parents asked us to watch their children on Sunday afternoon/early evening so that they could go on a Valentine's date together. So we offered to the other set of parents childcare during the same time.

I prepared some craft supplies beforehand and we had fun making these heart-shaped sun-catchers that look so pretty taped to the windows. 

The two girls, in particular, loved the gluing, the arranging, the choosing of colours and so on. Grandpa helped Felix to create his artwork, and then the two menfolk went off and did other things while the girls continued to craft.

Yesterday I baked a batch of sugar cookies, the same recipe that I've used for many years, my mother's recipe. She made heart-shaped cookies for Valentine's Day, and sent them carefully packed, when I was in college. 

There was a lot of icing consumed, and plenty of sprinkles landed on the floor (and into mouths), and it all added up to a very sweet time - the kind of time I've anticipated as the children grow up. Thank you to all the other Nanas out there who post about the things they do with their grandchildren. I'm inspired by you all. 

I showed them my collection of heart-shaped rocks and they each picked a favourite one. Miss A was astounded that rocks could be found in such shapes. Next time we go to the beach I'll help her find some for herself. 

Decorating for Valentine's Day is minimal. I've left the red and white dishes from Christmas in the china hutch, and will take them down soon. I propped up this old postcard, written with a simple "To Bertha, from Grandma and Grandpa" on the back. It's undated, and must have been hand-delivered, for there is no postage on the card, but I have others to Bertha, and they are from the early 20th century. 

While cutting out simple heart shaped cookies yesterday, I cut a few pairs with cutouts, as well, and put them together with raspberry jam, then dusted them with icing sugar as a treat for the man I love. 

Tomorrow is a holiday here - how I love Sunday nights with Mondays off. It's Family Day here in our province, and we will be getting together with family once again. 

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

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?