October Favourites

 

Lake Huron, late September

Listen! the wind is rising, and the air is filled with leaves

We have had our summer evenings,

now for October eves.

Humbert Wolfe

The wind is indeed rising today and cooler, wetter, windier weather is in the forecast. I love it. Every season has its delights and I thought I'd share some of my October favourites. 

A List: October Favourites, 

in no particular order

1. apples - good in cake, pies, crisps, and salads

2. layering up with sweaters 

3. the sound of rain on the roof at bedtime

4. lighting a candle for the table

5. scuffling through crunchy leaves

6. sunshine on the water

7. the glow of light through autumn leaves

8. walking with my husband

9. dried hydrangea blossoms

10. reading in a pool of lamplight

11. homemade soup

12. a cozy throw or shawl

13. cups of tea in bone china mugs

14. tending my houseplants

15. leaves swirling in the wind

And one more thing to share. I walked with a friend this morning and rounding a corner on the path, we saw a flurry of feathers as a startled Barred Owl flew a short distance from us. Unafraid he watched us, occasionally tilting his head, just as we watched him and told him how lovely he was. What a special thing to see in my favourite month!

To Plan or Not To Plan

 

Although only one blade is visible, others are added when the windmill is put into use.

I'm a planner. I like to make lists, check off items as they are accomplished, and generally know where I'm headed in my day. Except on vacation. We had a rough idea of the things we wanted to see on our cross-Canada trip, but details were very sketchy. When I read about Isle aux Coudres in a tourist brochure, we thought it would be a fun place to visit. Sandy beaches and a 22-kilometre bicycle ride around the island attracted our attention. We drove to Baie-St. Paul and took a ferry to the island. In the rain. 

Water is brought from the pond to the waterwheel inside the stone building. The miller and his family lived in the adjoining house. 

Alas, the beaches were drenched with rain and cycling was out of the question. Instead, we visited Les Moulins de L'Isle aux Coudres - The Mills of Coudres Island. On this small island in the middle of the Saint Lawrence River a waterwheel and a windmill still grind grain in the old fashioned way. It was a fascinating glimpse into the way life used to be lived. 

A small bridge over the stream accesses the inner workings of the waterwheel.

Jacques Cartier was the first European visitor to the island in 1535. He named it for the plentiful coudriers, an old French word for hazelnut trees. Later, in 1687, a monastery was established on the island, followed by granting land concessions to settlers. At that time, grain grown on the island had to be taken to the mainland by canoe, a journey of about two miles. It wasn't until 1825 that a watermill was constructed. However, with unstable water to supply the mill, a windmill was also constructed on the site in 1836, providing two power sources for grinding the all-important grain. 

Old millstones lie here and there on the grounds; some used as planters for flowers and herbs. The mill continues to grind grain. Jerome Desgagne, a modern miller says, "Every time I fire up the millstone to grind wheat, I think of our ancestors who needed to feed the island families with this flour that was their food staple." 

A modern house seen from the moss-covered stone windmill.

An old stone building sinks oh, so slowly into the ground. 

A cross marks the spot where Jacques Cartier erected a similar cross in 1535, and also marks the final resting place of sailors who succumbed to the difficulties of the long sea voyage. 

I bought a bag of fine whole wheat flour from the mill and kept it in the freezer on our trip. Today, finally, I baked four French bread loaves from the flour. They tasted just fine! 

Our spontaneous adventure to Isle aux Coudres was a great success in spite of the rain. Tell me, do you plan your vacations or do you decide at the moment? 

Autumn Things of Note

 

Misty mornings and bright afternoons. Breezes that swirl with golden leaves. Drizzling rain. And dahlias. I was so pleased to see plenty of dahlias lighting up the garden on our return home. I'm cutting flowers for the house every few days. 

The garden has needed some serious work and we've cut and trimmed, pulled and pruned. I love how the colour of hydrangeas vary on one plant. The stems above are from one of the bluest of summer flowers that turn to ruddy reddish purple in late summer. But the sheltered flowers underneath the huge bush are this gorgeous lime green with violet accents. In my mind, stunning.

Aren't they amazing? The little purple bits look like butterflies swooping in to land. I'm hoping the colour will be preserved as they dry. So far, so good. 

October is full of celebrations, one of which is Thanksgiving. I made two pumpkin pies from my mom's old recipe that she wrote out at least 45 years ago. Now she sends me links, or types recipes to share. I love the handwritten ones best.

I still have an old-fashioned recipe box (actually two of them, wooden, made by Tim) and when I pull out a recipe with a family member or friend's name on it, I'm reminded of them, and often of the first time I tasted the dish. 

Anyways, back to pumpkin pies. I read a tip to add some freshly ground black pepper to the pie mixture, so I tried that. Everyone agreed the pie was good, but whether it was better than before, who knows?  An apple cream cheese tart was also baked for those who don't care for pumpkin pie. Both were served with clouds of whipped cream. So, so good. 

Here it is Saturday morning. The annular solar eclipse was visible between cloudy periods. I was reminded of seeing an eclipse when we lived in the jungle of Ecuador. Thousands of tiny eclipse shadows danced on the ground outside our home as the light filtered through the leaves of a tree. I looked for a similar occurrence today, but didn't see anything similar. 

Today I'm doing some laundry and baking a cheesecake for tonight's dinner with friends. October is a good month for a bit of fall cleaning - windows and such are in desperate need of washing after a hot dusty summer. He'll do the outside, I'll do the inside. A good division of labour! After the work there will be tired satisfaction and definitely a cup of tea. 

Quebec City

Cloudy skies. A few welcome raindrops. Milky chai tea. A quiet house. It's Thanksgiving Monday here, and celebrating yesterday means for tranquility today. It was lovely to be together with our children and grandchildren.  

The Chateau Frontenac and lower old Quebec City as seen from across the St. Lawrence River.

Shall we take a short visit to Quebec City today? The tie-in to today's weather is the rain. Here it's a drizzle, but the first day of our time in QC was filled with pouring rain. 

We stayed across the river from the old city, in a campground that provided a free shuttle to the 10-minute ferry ride that dropped us off at a most convenient spot for exploring. 

We wandered through the streets - there's Tim with an umbrella under the parasols - and thoroughly enjoyed the charming old stone houses with their painted doors and shutters. 

Samuel de Champlain founded Quebec City in 1608 and the French have maintained a presence in North America since that date. The Lower Town, near the river, became the economic hub of New France as trade via sea supplied the people with goods and supplies. Administration and religion were centered in the Upper Town, a steep, but short walk up from the river. 

The Place Royale is considered the birthplace of New France. The outline of Samuel de Champlain's house can be seen. Originally, the buildings were made of wood, but a fire in 1686 destroyed most of the area. Authorities insisted that houses then be built of stone, with common walls to be higher than the rooftops to prevent the spread of fire.

From the Upper Town one can look over the old defense wall to streets and buildings below. We took a bus tour of the city, but it was frustrating to not be able to see out of the windows because of the pouring rain and fogged glass. We preferred to get wet and still see something. I loved the window boxes filled with greenery and flowers, so pretty against the stone buildings.

Just outside the old city lie the Plains of Abraham where the decisive battle between Britain and France was fought in 1759, during the Seven Years War. Both the French commander, General Montcalm, and the British commander, General Wolfe, were killed during the 30-minute battle won by the British. 

The Plains of Abraham make up a small part of The Battlefields Park which stretches along the cliff overlooking the river for some 2.4 kilometres. There are markers indicating the spot where Wolfe died (Montcalm was carried off the battlefield and died shortly after). 

The Martello Tower above was constructed in 1806, one of four defensive towers as conflict with the USA was heating up. We visited the park on a cloudy day, but the rain held off. It's now a peaceful place for relaxation and play.  

Maison Jacquet was constructed in 1675-76 and is one of the oldest buildings in the Upper Town. It's now a restaurant where we enjoyed a traditional Quebecois meal, including meat pie (tourtiére) and cabbage and turnip. It was a delicious, but heavy meal, reflecting the heartier food of the past. 

On our last day in Quebec City we cycled along the river opposite the city, enjoying the glimpses of the town seen between the trees and cottages we passed. 

I would love to visit the city again, perhaps flying next time. Driving across Canada was fantastic, but something to do just once, methinks. 

Home Again

 

An old-style wheelbarrow at Fort Louisbourg, Nova Scotia

I couldn't help smiling as we turned into our street. Arriving home after a lovely adventure is one of the best parts of travel. We walked through our front door late on Monday night after spending a day with my parents on the mainland. 

That first evening, in the dark, I took a tour of my garden. Dahlias are going strong, there are a few zinnias and roses. Lots of purple Concord grapes and some very sweet green ones whose name escapes me. 

Fishing floats dangling in the sun

Since then we've been busy - clearing out the camping trailer, laundry, shopping for groceries - and to complicate matters, our daughter-in-law broke her ankle Tuesday morning. Surgery was today. Family is pulling together with meals and chauffeur duties. 

Beautiful views from a cliff on Newfoundland

When I have enough of inside duties, I go out to the garden for a stint of clipping and weeding. There is a lot to be done and the weather is cooperating. Roses have grown long thorny branches that I am cutting ruthlessly. I'm eyeing the apples - our children have assured us that they have picked all they need and we've offered them to others, but there is still a goodly amount to be made into applesauce and pies. All in good time.

This weekend is Canadian Thanksgiving. The children have everything organized and we were tasked to bring drinks. Now that Katie is immobilized for a few weeks, I volunteered to make dessert - her task. 

As I sort through photos and sift memories in my mind, there will be stories shared here in between the everyday happenings. I've begun reading and commenting on blogs once again and look forward to catching up with you all soon. 

Autumn Begins

 

September is nearly gone. We’ve travelled from the middle of Ontario to central Alberta in the past six days. Lots of driving, but wonderful weather and scenery along the way. The colours of red maple forests are stunning, unlike anything we have in the west where all is gold. 

Next week we arrive home on our west coast island. Thanks for following along and I hope to begin regular posting soon. 

Enjoy these last days of September. 

Westward Ho!

 

Throughout our travels I've enjoyed the various styles of houses I've seen. Lunenburg, Nova Scotia has some very pretty brightly coloured homes with contrasting doors. I'm trying to talk Tim into painting our front door a bright colour! 

We did visit Green Gables, but left Prince Edward Island a few days earlier than planned due to the incoming storm. We had hoped to visit the Gaspé Peninsula, but decided to skip that, also due to stormy conditions. We are slowly heading westward - we're one time zone closer to home now, in Rivière-du-Loup, Québec. Such a pretty little town. Tim is out on a bike ride and I am sipping tea, cozy and warm in the trailer. 

We will be with friends later this week, and family early next week. The leaves are changing and there is a crispness in the air. Enjoy autumn, or spring, wherever you may be. 

Moving Along

 

There are so many wonderful sights in this grand country of ours. We are seeing but a fraction, and our hearts and minds are full. I’ve been keeping a daily journal of our travels and it’s becoming difficult to absorb all of our little adventures. 

Above is a sea stack at Hopewell Rocks on the Bay of Fundy where the highest tides in the world occur. It was fun to wander around them at low tide. 

It seems we have a few sunny days followed by a stretch of cloudy and/or rainy ones. Today is one of the latter. We hiked in the rain and then came into our cozy warm home on wheels for hot tea and some chocolate. Outside just now I hear thunder. 

Tropical storm Lee is headed our way and we can expect more rain and wind. We are keeping an eye on the weather forecast and can leave in a hurry if things look more serious. 

Tomorrow we are headed to Prince Edward Island for a couple of days. Maybe some biking (depends on the rain) and hopefully a visit to Green Gables. 

Have a beautiful day. 

Into the Past

 

Our ferry crossing from Newfoundland was smooth as glass - such a relief! 

We spent the day at Fort Louisbourg, another of Canada’s National Historic Sites. Parks Canada does a wonderful job of interpreting the past with knowledgeable guides and costumed interpreters who took us back to 1744 when the French controlled this part of Canada. 

Stories galore. 

All Sorts of Days

 

Rainy days, cloudy days, and a few sunny days that we appreciate all the more for their rarity. Unless rain pours down for hours, we manage some sort of walk or hike everyday. Under moody skies Trout River sat like a haven of peace when seen from the trail above the hamlet.

Today, in contrast, is sunny and warm with a cool breeze that hints of the season in waiting. We will be leaving Newfoundland on the Sunday night ferry and then exploring more of the Maritimes for a couple of weeks before heading home. 

I’m sitting outside the laundromat waiting for clothes to finish their cycles. Goldenrod waves in the wind. Bits of milkweed fluff sail through the air. It’s lovely.  

L’Anse aux Meadows

 

L’Anse aux Meadows lies at the northern tip of Newfoundland. I have been captivated by this place for many years, since high school when I first learned about the Norse people who came here around the year 1000 AD. Parks Canada has done a stellar job of interpreting the site. Beyond the history, I am enchanted by the landscape, low green hills that flatten into the sea with long reefs where white waves curl. 

This is the furthest point on our trip and tomorrow we begin the trek homeward. There is still much to explore in the Maritimes, and we will be taking our time. 

I was shocked when we drove into the little town of St. Anthony to buy some groceries. The skyline was dominated by a familiar and most unexpected sight - a cruise ship! The first day we went to L’Anse aux Meadows, a bus full of cruise ship passengers arrived just as we did. Sadly, many made a beeline to the gift shop and spent no time at all learning about the history of this place. 

With so many people visiting the park, the park hosts altered their usual routines and did not offer guided tours but were instead stationed at various points to answer questions. So we decided to return the next day and had a wonderful tour by an excellent guide who grew up playing on the mounds before excavation began in 1961. 

Twillingate

 

Hello from Twillingate, Newfoundland. So many interesting names dot the maps and signposts here. Twillingate, I learned, is an anglicized form of Toulinguet - so named by the French fishermen who travelled here centuries ago to fish for cod because the landscape reminded them of a similar shoreline in Their homeland. 

I confess that the less than summery weather is a bit of a trial and when the occasional warm sunny day appears, we take full advantage of it to hike a beautiful trail. 

The image above is the view from our campsite just now. Two humpback whales passed by yesterday, gulls soar with white wings flashing against the dark sea, and there is a delicious air of contentment. 

It’s been just over one month since left home and I will admit to homesickness. We speak with our children but it’s not the same as seeing them, and I think about my garden and miss my flowers. I am making an effort to fully enjoy all the moments of this trip for I know it’s a once in a lifetime experience. 

I also think about the terrible fires in our home province, not near to us, but dreadful nonetheless. Here we have too much rain, there not nearly enough. I pray for rain where it’s needed and for safety for all those in the face of the fires. 

We are perfectly comfortable in our little home on wheels. Today, after hiking, I indulged in a couple of hours of domesticity - making a pot of soup from vegetables bought at the local farmer’s market, baking date muffins, and concocting a pan of marshmallow squares for a special treat. 

Now as the sun sets and all the chores are finished, we will take a short walk and then settle in to read or perhaps watch a downloaded program on our computer.  

Thank you for reading  I look forward to catching up with all of your blogs when we get home - and there’s no definite date for that. Meanwhile, I wish you moments of loveliness to cherish. 

Cape Spear

The old lighthouse, a round stone tower with a wooden structure around the tower. 

Standing on the edge of land beside the Atlantic Ocean at Cape Spear, one is as east as possible in North America. A lighthouse stands here, still flashing its beacon after many decades, although the original buildings have been replaced. 

What was shocking to me after seeing a signpost elsewhere was that the tip of England, Poldhu, Cornwall, is much closer to us now than our home in the west of Canada. It made me realize how vast this country is, and how many kilometres we have driven. 

The edge of the continent

Birds Galore!

 

Cape St. Mary’s lies on one of the long peninsulas of Newfoundland. We stopped there after a very rocky ferry trip. The mists swirled up and around us.  Here an ecological reserve has a trail high on the cliffs above the roiling sea where we walked. We could hear the birds far sooner than we could see them. Gannets with their young, common murres, and black-legged kittiwakes covered the rock faces where they nested. 

A beautiful wild place of wonder. 

Biking between the raindrops

 

Cape Breton Island is filled with history, music, wonderful people, and gorgeous scenery. We went for a short bicycle ride along the southwest coast - a lovely trail with ocean views and shaded forests. Our appetites were ready for a bowl of delicious seafood chowder, one of the best I’ve tasted, accompanied by Celtic music. It was interesting to see that many of the road signs in this corner of the island were written in both English and Gaelic. 

Our last couple of days have been relaxing. This morning the view from our campsite was obscured by steady rain. As I write we are in the line waiting to board the ferry to Newfoundland. Although boarding will be on schedule, winds might delay our departure. It’s a 16 hour overnight trip and I’m a wee bit nervous about the ups and downs in the waves. Tim bought Gravol but that just puts me to sleep so I’m trying some pressure wrist bands. They are on now and will stay until we drive off the ferry tomorrow mid-morning. 

A quick note

 

Hello there!  Are you a history buff? I am. I love visiting sites where history comes alive and often imagine characters and events that might have taken place. 

The Isle aux Coudres in the Saint Laurence River is a place where stories lie around every corner. Settled by the French, there are charming homes, curving bays, and intriguing paths everywhere. We had hoped to cycle the 23 km perimeter of the island, but rain prevented that. Instead we visited an old mill, still grinding local flour today after more than 250 years, wandered a beach trail when the rain eased, and drove around the perimeter. Still so lovely. 

I’m finding internet and wifi connections rather difficult and have decided to create little postcard style posts like this one. 

The stories and other photos will happily wait until we return home. On Wednesday we take the ferry (16 hours) to Newfoundland. Exciting! We’ve almost reached the easternmost point of our trip. 

Thanks for coming along. 

 

 

Visiting Old Quebec City

 

In 1608 Samuel de Champlain, a French explorer, established a tiny settlement on the banks of the Saint Laurence River in what is now Canada.  Today was a step back in time as we wandered winding cobblestone streets lined with stone buildings decorated with shutters of all colours. Above the old town rises the Chateau Frontenac, a luxury hotel built by the Canadian Pacific Railway company in 1893.

You can't always believe the weather forecast. Today's prediction was 40% showers, but that turned into about 90% between 9 and 4, the hours we wandered around Quebec City. We had a wonderful time in spite of the rain. 

The old houses drew me in with their overflowing flower planters, steep roofs, stone walls and colourful doors and shutters. Some houses have been converted to businesses, others remain private residences. A man carrying a large musical instrument case came out of a blue door, turned to lock it, then went on his way, likely a busker going to work for the afternoon. 

The city is located on steep terrain, good for a defensive position when enemies came by boat from the river. The streets wind up and up and from the upper levels looking down on homes is like seeing a world in miniature. 

I think about the people who have lived in these homes with their dreams and their griefs. The circumstances may be different than ours, just as my experiences are different from you, my reader. But down through the decades and the centuries, home has been seen as a place of refuge and comfort, of restoration and love. Not all homes reflect those characteristics, but the idea of home is one that we all yearn for. 

Beside Lake Huron

 

We sped across the western provinces, intent on reaching Ontario. It was a bit of a surprise to me to cross the longitudinal meridian of Canada when we were in Manitoba. Halfway across Canada in four days was a bit of a marathon. 

In school geography class one thing every Canadian student learns is to draw the Canadian Shield, a wide band of rock around Hudson Bay. The TransCanada highway winds across and through rocks and lakes and trees that mark the landscape. 

We stopped at Kakebeka Falls for a night of camping and a couple of hours of hiking. Viewing platforms allow close access to the falls. A short trail led to another, smaller, but equally beautiful waterfall. 

We camped at Neys Provincial Park for one night and walked on the sand by Lake Superior. Unfortunately, hundreds of grasshoppers had the same idea. Every step a few of them hopped up as we passed. Leaving the beach we brushed them off of our pant legs. A wee bit unnerving. 

I’m writing this post by the shores of Lake Huron on a warm muggy afternoon made bearable by the cool breeze coming off the lake. We set out our chairs and are reading, a cool drink to hand. It’s lovely to just sit and relax after driving for so many days (6!).

Tomorrow we will be visiting friends in Toronto for a few days. 

I wasn't able to post until now, several days after our lovely time by Lake Huron. The above photo was our morning view of the lake, the water soft, the air misty, and the humidity high!

We're enjoying visiting with friends, connecting with a cousin, and seeing a bit of the countryside north of Toronto. We won't be going to the big city this trip.