March 5,2019

Shrove Tuesday and I have nothing to say but I am saying it anyway. Shove, shrove, shovel whatever. It is that kind of days preceding Tuesday. The dear man fetched me from the airport on Saturday, March 2. A lovely drive on a sunny winter day. Eight hours later we had a long and steady snowfall. So there was plowing on Sunday and Monday.
Freed from clearing snow and feeling celebratory the dear man declared to our kids in 3 provinces and Mexico: Pancake day. Whereupon one son, with aviation interest, quipped, "Is that what happens when you fly your drones?"
Enough said. We did observe the ritual (his) for this Shrove Tuesday-squeezing sliced oranges on thin pancakes, sprinkle a little sugar and then rolling up the crepes for slicing into forkfuls. A little culture randomly observed by a pair of agnostics. Feels good.

Poesje on patrol (2001-2018)

We called her Poes for short as she was named Poesje by a Dutch family in 2001who took her in from the hedgerow. When the family needed to move away we adopted her.
She was her own person, cat I mean. A no nonsense cat who did not belly flop for anybody. When addressed she will give a grunt 'Uh' and we took that acknowledgement with some gratitude hoping for more. Even more coolness to fellow cats though they shared the same bed. Poes is in the back with a closer relationship to Sylvester who died last year. Sparky, in the foreground, is a little

at a loss. However she, at 2 years, is very comfortable with human companionship. We may have intended it that way. Her litter is the worst I have ever come across.

Monday 2018

Hooray, I like it.
On New Year’s Eve we stepped out at 2pm intending to celebrate in broad daylight. It was very cold but bright and we can see people’s faces above the dark outerwear and below the dark headwear. Bright spots.
First a lunch and we went to Sakawa Coffee. I ordered the Japanese Breakfast which turned out to be like having a little art for lunch.The dark brown tray was backdrop and frame. A triangular  piece of grilled mackerel glistened in a shallow curve of white ceramic. Still in white ceramic was a daub of salad, green and red. A tea-stained soft boiled egg beside round slices of  salmon-coloured sweet potato sat on a flat square piece of quiet ceramic. Then there was the murky miso soup in an earthy red lacquered bowl. Lastly in the top corner was a mound of snowy rice. We have enough to cross the threshold into 2018.
Go forth win love.

December 22 in 2017

        As shown a photo of a very fortifying breakfast which makes a person feel reborn. Have now to take a breath and allow 2017 to emerge as 2018.


             

June , the frost free portion.

June 4 and perhaps the frost warnings are behind us. We had 2 last week. The bush beans were showing, through the soil, their curved necks which I covered with loose soil. Near one that. The scarlet runner beans had come through with their true leaves which had to be protected with a covering. On the other side of the ledger we had a harvest of rhubarb and a few leeks. The leeks came from a fall planting of seedlings.

So into June we go. Other delights catch the eye; bumble bees on dandelions, Johnny jump up alternating between sunning or shivering and the unkempt bleeding hearts. June should become a verb. So much action, june up.

Memorabilia

A little over fifty years ago our drama professor, Frank Canino, staged "The Hollow Crown"in which a fellow Antigonisher, Addy, and I had interesting roles. In a blue gown, left over from a prom, and no wig I played the young Victoria.
I think, from the applause, it went over well. Also, off stage I had this 'what happened' looks. Next day when I entered a class the professor exclaimed,"But you look so tall"

I am ambling around my memorabilia this Victoria Day weekend before I renew the vegetable garden.

Never Eat Shredded Wheat

At 11.30pm, on the eve of Ash Wednesday, I regretted, slightly, of the promise to wait with them for the school bus in the morning. But I set the alarm and got up at 6.30am.

At 6.35am I saw that the grandson was in his drill; changing from pajamas to his laid-out school clothes and then a quick breakfast of yogurt and one toast. His mother helped with his outer gear of snow pants, parka, boots, toque and gloves. Then the backpack was hoisted on and we were ready for the short walk to the roadside for the 7.10am bus. The temperature was - 10 degrees C on March 24; this is NB, Canada. He and his sister usually go at 7.09am but because grandma walks slower on icy patches we went a minute earlier.

I pointed to the remnants of the sunrise and was introduced to the mnemonic:
Never Eat Shredded Wheat by my eldest grandchild. Brightens my day to have an aid to hang on to the cardinal points, Thank you and Happy Easter.