A Garden in Winter

 

You might think I've lost the plot with the contrast between the post title and the first photo. Orchids do not bloom here in January, in spite of having the mildest climate in Canada. But they do flourish indoors at Butchart Gardens, where I took myself for a treat one recent afternoon. 

In the weeks after Christmas, one of the restaurant spaces at the Gardens is converted into a "Spring Prelude", complete with emerging bulbs - daffodils, hyacinths, and tulips galore, along with more exotic blooms and even a koi pond. Walking into the space I was greeted with a warm humid blast of scented air that even I perceived, with my diminished sense of smell. 

..."gardening begins in January with the dream."

Josephine Nuese

I thought this idea very attractive - the broken sphere on a pedestal with a pitcher plant and ferns inside. New ideas for my own garden often come when I wander in other gardens, and January is indeed a time for dreaming about gardens.

Once outdoors again, I wandered through all the paths admiring the bones of the garden unhindered by the lush blooms to come. I took note of how the roses are pruned and each plant heaped with rich compost. A gardener tied the long long stems of climbing roses to the arches that will be covered in blooms in a few months. 

Then to the Japanese Garden, one of my favourite spaces. It never used to be so, but I have come to love the constant flow of water throughout the space, the lush mosses, and the sense of tranquility here. The red bridges (there are two or three of them) are striking against all the green. 

In a few more weeks, rhododendrons and azaleas will flower here, adding more colour to this lovely space, but for now, I am content to step along the stones in the quiet colours of January, dreaming of garden days to come. 

Of Carrots and Walking by the Sea

 

Carrot soup, bright with ginger and garlic, on a January day is a dish to savour. I made a big pot of it on Saturday and froze some for the future (maybe for the day when my kitchen will be out of commission due to the renovation). 

Prior to making the soup, however, I picked the last of the winter carrots from the garden, brushing off the soil, cutting and throwing the tops into the compost bin. The carrots are misshapen and of all sizes, but oh, how sweet they are, full of crunch and juice.

This sky during our Sunday afternoon walk along the water looked ominous, but no rain fell. The huge container ship, 300 metres in length, ran into trouble out at sea and put into port for needed repairs due to a "rudder malfunction". In the lower part of the photo a tiny harbour ferry - I call them jelly bean boats - is dwarfed by the huge ship, but bravely bounces along the water. 

Closer to shore the clear green water looked almost tropical, but I wouldn't be the one to venture in. Many people had the same idea as we did, for the walkway was almost crowded at times, with everyone enjoying the mild weather. 

I was at the nursery the other day and picked up some seeds - zinnias, poppies, snapdragons among others. At this point the colorful packets are merely inspirational, but I hope to start seeds indoors in a month or so. Meanwhile, the viburnum is blooming, and spikey bulb leaves are poking upwards in places, giving hints of blooms to follow. 

This morning's sky was pink in the east and now, a few hours later, a wide stripe of pale blue is sandwiched between thin cloud layers, boding for a pleasant day for an afternoon walk. 

Of Thinking Ahead, Reading, and Hyacinths

 

January has been very grey, not cold, but dull. On Sunday, I walked around the bog and took few photos because nothing caught my eye, until, almost at the end of my walk, I turned around for one last look and caught the sun peeking down, illuminating reeds and bullrushes and changing them to gold. I'm so glad I turned.

These solitary days at home are good for thinking and I've been doing a lot of that, examining my life, and pondering the year ahead. It's a year of great change as my husband will retire in a few months. In some ways, his retirement will have a greater effect on me than my own retirement a year or so ago. Our first plan is a major kitchen renovation.

For this year I want to take a lesson from Henry Miller's words,

"Develop interest in life as you see it;

in people, things, literature, music - 

the world is so rich,

simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls,

and interesting people."

I've met so many interesting people (you!) via blogging and hope to continue writing and posting here at least once each week. I am filled with immense gratitude for those who read my scribbles and comment or email me. Thank you. 

Here today, the single amaryllis I planted is blooming, pure white and very tall. I may have to tie the stalk to the staircase to keep it from falling over. It towers over me when I walk past it, and I admire it most while descending the stairs. 

Regarding reading: I finished Louise Penny's latest Gamache book A World of Curiosities. I found it not as pleasurable as some of her other books. There was intense darkness and unmistakable evil portrayed in this book, with disturbing scenes. Armand and Three Pines were lovely, as always, and I won't say more for fear of spoiling the book for anyone who wants to read it, but I'd be curious to know what you thought of it. 

A book I'm dipping in and out of is Little Stories of Your Life by Laura Pashby. I started the book early last year and have not made much progress with it. There is much to think about, and right now I'm thinking about why I am drawn to certain things and not to others. I've not arrived at any conclusions other than the old adage that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. 

Back in November I had a cold and a cough that persisted for a couple of weeks. I tested negative for the C-virus, but since then my sense of smell is greatly diminished and I often smell odd scents, like exhaust. Negative tests are notoriously unreliable and my conclusion is that I did have a very mild case of the virus. 

Blue and white, light, and fresh green growing things have always attracted my eye. Hyacinths, with their glorious scent, are some of my favourite spring flowers, but with my sniffer being out of whack, I am sad that I cannot smell them at all unless I bury my nose in the blooms. Odd, no? I hope my sense of smell returns soon. One advantage is that I can chop onions without my eyes tearing up! 

This has been a rather scattered post, and I'll stop here to prevent further blathering. 

Five on Friday: Reveling in Quiet

 

Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year. 
Ralph Waldo Emerson

The quieter days of January are welcome after a busy festive season. December was busier than usual, and in looking back, we had at least two events on our calendar for each weekend of the month - usually hosted here, occasionally elsewhere. That's a lot of social engagement for this introvert. 

It is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts,
as for that subtle something, that quality of air, that emanation from old trees,
that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit.
Robert Louis Stevenson

Today has been a mixed bag of weather. For a few moments I admired the pale sunlight washing the living room in delicate light, throwing shadows onto the furniture and walls. Now, however, wind moans about the house, dark clouds scud across the sky, and rain will soon follow. 

I'm back to continuing my writing project after a month away, and was happy to get right back into the rhythm. 

The days are short. The sun a spark hung thin between the dark and dark. 
John Updike

January is a good month for reading, curled up in a comfortable chair with a warm shawl around one's shoulders and a cup of tea alongside. 

I recently finished The Shepherd's Life by James Rebanks, learning much about the business of keeping sheep, and of the farmers' connection to the land in the Lakes District of England. 

I've just begun Louise Penny's latest A World of Curiosities and am looking forward to getting deeper into the story. 

Winter is the time for comfort, for good food and warmth, for the touch of a friendly hand 
and for a talk beside the fire: it is the time for home.
Edith Sitwell

Above is a photo of the dinner table at my parents' home last week. I've added a watercolour pencil effect to the photo. I just love my mom's china and remember her collecting it over the years when I was a child. My mother enjoys setting a beautiful table, something I enjoy, too, having learned it from her. 

Good food is very often, even most often, 
simple food.

Anthony Bourdain

After the delicious indulgences of December, it's time to get back to more simple eating. Today a pot of vegetable soup simmers on the stove, to be accompanied by good bread and a bit of cheese. The other day I used up a solitary beet, a few carrots, mushrooms that were past their best in a roasted vegetable medley to which I added some leftover chopped deli ham and feta cheese. 

Five quotes that reflect January quiet to me, and five photos with commentary. On that note, I wish you all a good weekend. I know that I am looking forward to a quiet one. 

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!

Quick and Simple

 

I'm just popping in to say a quick hello before getting back to doing not much of anything. This week between the years is delightful for its lack of expectations. We had a lovely Christmas with family - full of delicious food, laughter, and happiness. 

Our 16 or so inches of snow melted in less than a week due to temperatures above the norm combined with rain and wind. For the past two days we've noticed a Varied Thrush hanging about, picking up food from under the bird feeder. This elusive bird lives in coniferous forests and comes more into the open after cold and snow. Such a handsome fellow! 

Wishing you all a wonderful week, and a very happy beginning to the new year - 2023! 

Ducks in a Row

 

Our world is still white, with rain to come tonight, turning all into a slushy mess. Walking by the pond these ducks in a row perched above the snow that was too deep for waddling. 

Here at home, I've got my ducks in a row - we are celebrating on the 24th this year as we alternate years with in-laws. Presents are wrapped, and all that remains is to do a little cleaning this morning, and some cooking this afternoon. 

We've had very cold temperatures for a couple of days, nothing like the cold further east, but highly unusual. The American Robins generally go south for the winter so I was surprised to see a fluffed-up female in a hawthorn tree. 

I finished up some last minute sewing - neck pillow for all the grands, made from the remnants of Christmas pajamas over the years. When I tried one out, I found it very comfortable and think that they would be good gifts for adults, as well. But not this year. 

I'm nibbling on a small bowl of snack mix as I write this post. It's not "nuts 'n bolts" because there are no bolts - pretzels. I find that I always pick out the pretzels first and eat them right away as I don't enjoy them. So I'm calling this mix "nuts 'n washers". It's packaged into jars to send home with everyone tomorrow. 

Merry Christmas blessings of love, joy, peace, and hope for all, and wishes for days of mingled quiet and delight, whether with family and friends, or alone. 

When Snow Falls

 

When snow falls in our coastal city, the corners of my mouth turn upwards. I can't help but smile, inside and out. We had a huge snowfall overnight, well over a foot, so I've been practically grinning! 

When snow falls, I don boots, toque, gloves, and down-filled parka to take a walk. The transformation from dull greens and browns to glittering whiteness never fails to astound me. 

When snow falls, contrast is highlighted and the world becomes a soft geometry of snow-capped seed heads, fence posts, and bird baths. 

When snow falls, little flowers like this feverfew blossom peek out with brave and pale colour.

When snow falls, I am happy to come indoors and enjoy a cup of tea and baking in front of a warm fire. And I know that here, snow will not last long, which is precisely why I love it so much. I grew up in the north where snow lasted long into March and April, and grew very, very weary of it. 

Today, however, I am reveling in the snow, drinking tea, looking out the window, puttering in the kitchen, and finishing up a little sewing. 

How do you spend a snow day, if you ever have them? 

PS I've posted the sugar cookie recipe on my other blog, here. 

On a December Morning

 

Sunrise is around 8 am now. We were both awake early and decided, on a whim, to go to the beach when it was still pitch dark. Dressed in heavy coats, gloves, and toques, we stopped by Starbucks at 6:30 for two breakfast sandwiches, coffee for him and tea for me. 

We sat in the darkness of the car and ate breakfast while watching two beacon lights across the water blink alternately red and green. A tugboat chugged by, its bright headlight shining a path across the inky water. 

On this overcast morning sunrise was almost imperceptible, a mere gradual lightening of the sky in the east. Breakfast finished we went for a short walk. Gulls, and Bufflehead ducks were just awakening and beginning their mornings. Sparrows flitted from their nests across the path, still almost invisible in the half-light. 

From a distance we heard the faint honking of Canada geese. Then, there they were, high overhead, long trails of dark shapes swirling and shifting in loose formation, now over water, now over land.

How beautiful they were, greeting the morning together with us, wild geese against a grey December sky. 

And so the day began. All through the tidying and vacuuming, the folding of laundry and washing of dishes, the peace of that early morning has stayed in my mind, a few moments of delicious beauty in God's marvelous world. 

A Feast of Celebrations

 

Isn't that a unique cake? Our daughter-in-law created it to mark two birthdays, for our eldest granddaughter and our youngest. The cake inside is the same. Oh, how the children oohed and aahed at the lollipops on the pink side. Everyone wanted one and coincidently, there were five of them! I think it was planned. 

Here are the birthday girls, happy as can be. I love how the three oldest grands play with and care for the younger two. It warms the cockles of my heart. 

I've been folding paper stars, and taught Sadie, who stayed the night with us over the weekend, how to fold them. She learned fast and did a great job. 

These particular stars are 5 cm (2 inches) across and are now part of centerpieces at the church. Tomorrow is a luncheon for the seniors that I've been organizing. I'll be at the church early tomorrow getting the turkey rolls and stuffing into the ovens. Once the event is over, I will get cracking on more Christmas preparations around here. 

As you can see, there's no snow here, other than the crocheted snowflakes made by a good friend now passed on. I set up this wooden village with a tiny creche on the windowsill each Christmas and enjoy imagining the goings-on that might be happening. Perhaps it's a village similar to Louise Penny's Three Pines. 

Have you read Penny's books featuring the Quebecois detective Armand Gamache? I have the latest on my bookshelf, but am waiting until after Christmas to read it. There are four episodes of Three Pines, adapted from the books, on Amazon Prime Video, released in early December. Have you watched them? We did, and found them enjoyable, but not nearly as engaging as the books. 

Enjoying the Days

 

Outside my window I see the lights of the houses below us and a dark sky above. Night falls earlier and earlier these days as the winter solstice approaches. I am thankful for light and warmth, and can't help but think of those who suffer in cold and darkness under the attacks of evil men. I pray for them and admire their courage.

Some of my favourite memories emerge along with the ornaments and decorations pulled from the Christmas boxes. Last night we put up our tree, and for the first time in many years, a child helped hang the sparkly stars and bells. Her parents were at a work party and she spent the night with us. She was surprised at how many of our ornaments were the same as the ones hanging on her tree. So I told her of my tradition of giving an ornament to my children each year, ornaments that they took with them into their grown-up homes. I often bought or made an ornament for ourselves, too.  Those ornaments bring joy to my heart and I remember where each one came from. 

I am smelling the pumpkin soup that I pulled from the freezer for an easy supper this evening. We had friends over for breakfast and cooking one big meal a day is enough for me!

Christmas preparations are coming along at a gentle pace. I feel peaceful and calm, most of the time, and am reveling in these days of quiet. I should clarify that not all moment are gentle and quiet - no indeed - life continues with its frustrations and unexpected happenings. 

Small, creative activities are bringing me a lot of pleasure. Often, those are the things that get scratched from my list because I think I should be doing something different, more useful perhaps. I baked sugar cookie stars a few weeks ago for the grands to decorate some of them. I was inspired by Shayda Campbell to try painting some simple designs with food colouring on them. What fun I had. I stuck with green and painted trees and leaves in various designs. Some are more successful than others. 

I am reading Bess Streeter Aldrich's Journey into Christmas on the recommendation of blogging friend Dewena. The book is a collection of short stories written before I was born - gentle tales of Christmas past. 

Baking is high on my list for this coming week - Christmas favourites from years ago like shortbread, rugelach, and peppermint bars. I have a few new recipes I'd like to try, as well. 

Wishing you a week filled with gentle moments in the midst of busy days, moments that carry you through when things don't go as planned. 

On a Grey December Afternoon

 

It's 2 pm and the fire is glowing, warming this dull drizzly dark day. Twinkle lights glow on the mantel and the piano. A cup of tea accompanies me and I just finished nibbling a square of dark chocolate and eating a sweet mandarin orange. 

I spent the morning finishing my Christmas shopping - it seems I do less each year. I spoke with my mother this morning and asked her what she would like for Christmas. "To be with my family," was her answer, and I echo that for myself. Christmas of 2020 was so hard because of not being together at all. 

The first greeting card arrived, one with a dark blue background filled with stars. I am reminded that I must get mine posted soon. There are far fewer cards than in past days, but I still enjoy sending them - little notes that mean "your friendship is important to me." 

I'm pulling the recipes for the baking I plan to do - recipes on cards that are stained and a wee bit worse for wear. Shall I make fewer cookies this year? They all manage to get eaten no matter how many I make, and it's good to share them with neighbours. 

After our busy weekend helping with a house move and entertaining the grandchildren here, our own house was in dire need of a thorough cleaning. That happened yesterday, and since everything was off the shelves for dusting, I decorated for Christmas. The tree will go up later as it's a real tree and I would like it to have needles on Christmas Day. 

The little girls did so well while their parents were moving. They spent the night here, and I gave them their Nana-made nightgowns. They remind me of the characters in Little Women as they trail around the house. Utterly adorable. 

The older grandchildren are getting to be such a great help with the younger two. Adria had the idea to make tissue paper parachutes with Duplo figures. Everyone chose an animal and she crafted parachutes with crochet thread, tape, and tissue paper. (One grandchild was missing due to illness). Then, up to the top of the stairs and the count - one, two, three - and everyone let their parachutes drift to the floor below. Up and down they went, good exercise for all.