My pet yeast

I had to be away for about a month and so I put my supply of fresh yeast into hibernation. This is done by covering the container with a non-metallic perforated top, to allow the drying process in the fridge. On December 12, I reactivated the organisms by stirring in a little lukewarm water and a tablespoonful of flour. The intention was to make bread in the next couple of days. I overestimated my energy level. After nearly 40 hours of travel through heat and sleet I was a lumpen mass. There was just strength to look after the handyman who had to plow the long driveway after each snowstorm. Then he had to add to his stockpile of firewood on December 17 which turned out to be a full moon night. I pointed out the glowing moon in the east and Venus in the southwest. I got a grunt. The moon was celestial and I did not see the cheese, the man or the jade rabbit. It was like the moon in my childhood memory when my grandmother acknowledged it by making offerings of sugarcane, cups of clear water and a vegetarian mooncake. These were placed on a marble-topped round table pushed to the entrance of the house. She discontinued the practice promptly in early 1970's. My illiterate and thinking grandmother.                                     

Meanwhile the yeast was proliferating with renewed vigour and to prevent it from getting too sour I fed it with more substrate, flour that is.                

And today, the shortest of the year, I shall make bread. He deserves cake but I don't do cake. Happy birthday and tomorrow the day lengthens.
                  

Harvest for Thanksgiving

                                                                Happy Thanksgiving

The Sunflower's Trek

                         By the sunflower clock, I can tell it is time to harvest the potatoes.      

                       Not too bad as somebody did a good job in hilling and it was not billy

September 15 with Jones

A week before the equinox and good weather, like today, is a bonus. I almost said godsend but I better take God out of the planetary weather governance. A pleasant today in Nova Scotia to enjoy the small and the large.

The large is the Great Dane, Jones, without the rock floor of a drafty castle and a trestle table top and thrown chunks of meat on the bones. Poor Jones, less of an insularity than the 4 horns sheep of the Ilse of Man, but unlike the Ilse of Man's cats he has a healthy spine and a wicked tail.

 There we are under the gaze of the Sunflower.

Imperfection all round; there is a caption in this blog that I do not know how to delete.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     

   blackberry and cherry tomatoes

  

Labour Day Weekend

I am trying not to be overwhelmed by the speed in which produce from the garden needs to be processed. With the cauliflower we had 2 missteps but finally did get a head under the self blanching leaves.

The head or curd is tight and white unlike  the 2 that we overlooked, in which each constituent bump on the head was branching out. Bolting, that is.

Not very pleasant to look at though the discoloration does disappear if the cauliflower is processed for pickles. Yesterday, August 31, was pleasant enough in the afternoon for digging potatoes, and we did.

Today, it is wet and grey and calls for a Nova Scotian kitchen celebration.     

Happy Birthday CVL

Just Photos

                                          Snooze, Grandpa, I'll drive. Put foot there

                                          Loader removed on Little Red for maintenance

                                                  Humming birds' and people's feeder

                                                        Bee Balm and Company        

                                                               Tiger Lily opens

                                               Gift from Neighbour, a skilled gardener

                                                    Another little boy, Eloise's Dad

Orphaned Muskrat

On his way to work, on July 27, Jason saw this furry ball beside its dead mother. Knowing that it will not survive on its own, he tried to catch it but to no avail. Returning from work, he found it still there. Must be the element of desperation that made him succeed in capturing it.  Now what?

Good thing Sarah knows about Hope for Wildlife (HFW). She contacted the not -for -profit organization by phone, as directed in the website. Arrangement was made to meet at New Glasgow to handover the little muskrat. HFW is located in Seaforth, NS.                                              

                                                             Home at Hope                                                               

The Kind North Wind

Most grateful today for the North breeze as its breath is not rude and keeps the house in pleasant drafts. Of course this is July and I better enjoy it. Not the season of green holly but hollyhocks.

 And another exhibitionist thrives in July too.                                                                                      

We bumble along and sometime hit a pay load.                                                    

A bee from a bonnet, laden with pollen, is a pleasure to behold.

Hot July

Mornings and evenings are lovely. This evening I saw fireflies, which mean that, after I record my forays in gardening, I will be looking up facts about them. One week into July and we have produce. Of course we have had radishes in June and now the spinach, the kale, the broccoli and the peas. The beans, peppers, tomatoes and potatoes still have a long way to go.                                                    

Bottom photo was taken 10 days ago and the top one shows the growth, and was also taken at night. Why? To catch it by surprise.                                                                           
A new addition this season is garlic and I learn about the scape, that the garlic plant puts out. The loop is the scape.

Feast for the eye is provided by the perennials, for example the foxglove and the Peony.

And now I shall go and find out what makes the fireflies glow. Used to know that.

My little June

Tomorrow is July 1 and it is a significant day; Canada Day, her 146. It just feels a little more precious after I have seen images of the Alberta floods and, today, the fire at Wabush.
Meanwhile my June is provincial but okay. I did eat crow on a comment I made on the mayoralty of Montreal. And I did take a tiny plant from a stony driveway in New Brunswick and transplanted it, to a stony patch in Nova Scotia.

The Johnny Jump Up, without the flower, was accidentally plucked and I couldn't bear to throw it away. Brought it home in a wet paper towel.
Right now the rain has stopped, after 4 days, and a brightening greyness is developing. My big moment in June was the arrival of Eloise Rose and I heard her announce her presence. Happy Canada Day.

June

To my very toes, all cells delight as I stretch one life out of nine. The cat says of this June day.
I am not as expressive but agree with the sentiment as I stand in a petal shower from the 45 feet and over a century old apple tree. Who grows apple trees that tall now?

A New Week, April 22.

The Resident Anchorite , the single crocus and I saw it on April 20. I seem to be reluctant to put into words why I am looking for some form of benediction. But not to acknowledge that the Bombing at the Boston Marathon, on April 15, took place, is childish and cowardly. I am walking around on Earth Day looking at the early blooms to catch something. I can only come up with persistence. Goodly persistence is kind of powerful, I think.

Glory of Snow, with its early  start, captures my heart.

Push into the Mother and Daughter Re-union.

"When Persephone returns from the underworld each year, Demeter makes the earth bloom and grow beautifully which is the time of year we know as Spring and Summer. When Persephone returns to the underworld, Demeter stops and Fall & Winter arrive."

The Greeks have a visceral way of explaining for the seasons which is quite satisfying until we found that our little planet revolves round the sun with its axis tilted at 23.5 degree to the ecliptic. I think Shaw mentioned that every time you learn a new thing you lose something. 

I should go out and clear the debris around the daffodil shoots, and the cobwebs from my head.

A Pleasant Process

Watching the environs coming out of Winter never gets stale for me. So the 4-5 hrs drive is pleasant. This early April, budding and blooming is not quite discernible and thus,  does not catch the eye. Instead, it is the bird life that  shows the developing Spring. Not abundant in numbers but then the route runs through long settled areas. Young ducks on melting puddles, a flight of four geese flying low to a pond and a flock of black starlings on the branches of a silver birch.

On a secondary road a Hungarian partridge was in our path. We could see that it was going into a play dead mode. To avoid it, the driver could safely veer. I didn't want him to get onto  the soft shoulder, and warned him with, "Save us." We stopped aslant the bird, which flew across the windshield. We continued on. In threes and fours, the less sung crows were at play, flying above the road. Not cold and scavenging. A robin, with its signature breast, on a wet brown lawn and a bald eagle circling in the sky. No flights of fancy but heartwarming creatures.

March 10 at 5.30pm

Before the Spring forward it would have been 4.30pm and I had, all to myself, a quiet countryside in the still light. It was an undeserved bestowal as I was going out just to get a breath of fresh and not in appreciation. That quiet blue sky, glossy mud underfoot and the last bit of sun was bestirring. But there were no crows to caw with and so I shook hands with a fir on the driveway.

Two emails on Waiting for Godot

Hi kid,
Ask your older actor friends who may have seen a stage play of the above how the 2 main actors keep the audience's interest by such subtle changes in the interchanges between them. There are clowning moments as well as verbal lol but no plot. Feels like a retired couple waiting out winter white out. Now I am going to read the reviews. I did see excerpts from Patrick Stewart but how to do 2 acts ,and keep the audience engaged, is beyond my imagination. But then I don't have a degree in the pretend arts. Love,                                    And I got a reply.

It's a great play, isn't it? It all comes down to each small very human and real interaction. The larger structure may be difficult to make sense of but the minute intentions of each character are more obvious. Very funny, you're right.       

The exchange was not perfunctory and injects a delight into the day as I watch the scenes outside:                                                                                     

And

More is not better.

Acceptable level of snow for both man and machine, as with his little tractor he shaped the 300+feet driveway, on February5. Still fond of the season with its bracing chores (ahem); I mean they were done cheerfully. For example he noted that February 2 was a suitable day for splitting the big blocks.

Happy enough to appreciate that the straight grain of the wood made for easy splitting. Was quite smug when it rained on February 3 because he got in some dry wood. February 9 and 10 were storm days and brought lots more of the lovely stuff.

Today, February 11, second day of the Lunar New Year, he plowed again.
And the finished access looks good.                                                  

Hard work to look idyllic (ahem, eye of the beholder). Happy Year of the Snake. I have to make some pancakes for tomorrow(his Shrove Tuesday), and since the plowman needs an orange for his pancakes we may have to pop into town. Maybe that's why he plowed.

Diamonds on the soles of my feet on Jan. 30

Schools were cancelled as the forecast indicated that the roads would turn icy with the predicted rain on the accumulated snow, in spite of  the temperature rise to 9 degrees Celsius. Sure enough, when I went out at 11am, a neighbour's car had slipped into the ditch. I noticed that the few cars were travelling very close to the centre. The sides where I can safely walk were icy. Good thing I brought my gear:         

On winter assignment in Fredericton.

Cold Beauty

There it is in all its glory; translucent blue sky, sunlight so bright, it makes your heart ache, yet  gives little heat but twinkles on hard snow. Still there is this:

Only life thing to stand still in -31 C. And the Lilac bushes in nude hibernation.

The red tractor is on life support. It is being charged so that he can plow.

Nothing gentle about this beautiful day.

Stepping into the second fortnight.

Breakfast for the working actor.This photo was sent to show us that she is soldiering on. It was a very pleasant first fortnight; a little pate, a little partying, some Coronas and genteel carousing.
For me it was coffee and cinnamon roll at the Breakaway Cafe. My first shift for 2013 and enjoyed it, I did.

January 2, 2013

Just cool by itself; a new year. My cats don't have that. Cooler still is that it is a hard bright blue sky day. So bright that the shadow, of a flying bird,on the snow, takes one by surprise.Then the lighting dims and a soft gray ensues; all done by 

clouds But it is cold. Hence the cats have more sense:

Poes

 Felix silvestris catus in formal attire    

The cats sniff at the porch door and refuse to accompany me. They scurry back, taking their noses, to their warm spots. My hand held device register -13C and with wind chill -25C. Still the light is beguiling and a new beginning is refreshing.