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Snowy Speculations

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If I could paint, I would have tried to replicate the landscape very early this morning. Illuminated by the faintest hints of light and hours before sunrise, the cold, stark landscape lay completely still in its snowy blanket. Naked trees stood proudly and quietly against this backdrop, this palate of pure white an unforgiving place for any creature, big or small, to attempt to cross without drawing attention to its existence at this time. Even our ancient tire swing looked sleepy and droopy, suspended precariously close to the ground, as if the effort of hanging from a tree limb was too much for it. To the east, the only rays of light visible were the ones coming from the across the river, and even those seem hushed and muffled, like a child tired and murmuring not to wake them up just yet.  The young families down the road have gone all out with Christmas lights this year. Bright colours adorn the night skies and my neighbours even have a Christmas Cat and a Christmas Dinosaur that i
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The Sleeping Giant

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 Well, our Septic Sagas have finally come to an end. Our 75-year-old septic system finally gave up the ghost and we now have a giant burial ground to commemorate its existence. For those of you familiar with the Sleeping Giant in Thunder Bay, we now have the Sleeping Giant of Niagara-on-the-Lake! Our once flat property now has the privilege of having a septic mound that is our daily view right out of our dining room window - lucky us!  The kid in me can't resist walking around our new Hale Hill. Every time I stand on top of the mound, I feel like Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic yelling out, "I'm the king of the world!" But I haven't been able to trek up Mount Rushmore this week as my husband spent several hundred dollars at Minor Brothers on grass seed and is tenderly watering the baby seedlings, now just a mere green shadow on the brown dirt, with the hopes that the Hale Hill will soon be covered in a blanket of greenery and blend into the existing landscape. That
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The Rooster Crows at Dawn (or not)

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I woke up just before five this morning. I couldn't sleep so I got up and opened a window just a little to look out at the darkened landscape. A sliver of moon illuminated the world just slightly. Down the road, several roosters were crowing in succession, trying to outdo each other. The air was cool and damp but the smell of a skunk nearby permeated the morning air. Summer has been undergoing a gradual change these last few weeks. Not just in the temperature in the morning and evening, but all around. Even the poplar and ash trees at the back seem to have been brushed with the hand of an invisible artist, bathed with a yellow glow as the leaves are starting to show the changing of the season.  If you've read my blog before, you'll remember that I love growing pumpkins and gourds. I always feel like this is a frivolous activity because you can't really eat these delightful wonders the garden provides us. But they do make a beautiful display at Thanksgiving! Because of a
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A scene from National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation?

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 I was working in my home office at the front of the house early yesterday morning. The dogs had been taken out and fed and I was being quite productive already. All of a sudden I heard a little noise and assumed that the cat had come upstairs. Then Gus, our Pom-with-an-attitude, started growling. None of these occurrences were in any way different from any other day. Then the growling started again followed by his incessant, high-pitched barking and Sadie, our old lab who never does anything but eat and sleep, started growling and barking as well. I ran out to shush them both as the kids were still sleeping and heard another bit of scurrying in the living room. It had to be the cat, of course. I closed the pocket door between the kitchen and hallway and started heading back to my office to continue working when a small movement caught my eye. I turned around quickly to see a tan-coloured squirrel scurrying across the hardwood floors, past the grand piano in the living room (I would ha
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The Broken Lady

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The Broken Lady  Before we purchased our home, it had belonged to a raku potter and water-colour artist. From what I heard from people in the area, she hosted artist's retreats and held seminars in the studio that we converted back to a garage. In the first few years after moving here, I continued to discover eclectic pieces in the flower beds after digging out overgrown plants and bushes. Items like broken pottery, several containers of gorgeous seashells, large fossils, a little Buddhist temple garden ornament, bones that looked like they may have been a donkey's jawbone and an angel with fragmented edges held in place by wire. Some items I kept, others I discarded.  But one item always pulled me in on some unknown level. It was a broken statue about three feet high. We found her on her side in the forest. Her head had been broken off and hung dejectedly by just one thin rusty rod. She was made of cement  and was obviously quite old. I couldn't find another statue like he
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Primavera

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  Primavera It feels like the world has been breathing a sigh of relief these last few weeks. Granted, we all held our breaths earlier in the week when, like the unwelcome gift of underwear and socks on Christmas morning, some cold, white stuff fell from the sky. But I won't use that S-word as it is forbidden this time of year but will allow a hearty welcome to the other S-word: Spring! A quick google search of "Primavera" shows us that it literally means "first spring" - a fitting title for this beautiful week!  There's been a frenzy of bird song and flight for weeks now from the crack of dawn to dusk and any plant that is able to pop out of the ground, has been pushing to the surface with all of its might. The splashes of yellow from plump daffodils and vibrant forsythia are a stunning contrast to the lush green grass wherever the eye can see. Every fall, we dump the soil from pots and urns that have finished blooming and have dried up into the compost pil
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Coyote Chorus

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Coyote Chorus (Remembering Susie-the Howler ) I felt like one the people in Twas the Night Before Christmas last night when I was "nestled all snug" in my bed. There were no visions of sugar plums dancing in my head though! And literally, not a creature was stirring that late at night. Well, that is, except for the coyotes. It's mating season and these creatures have been making quite a stir at dusk, dawn and all through the night.  I hear their yipping in the vineyards all around us and see their footprints in the freshly fallen snow, evidence that our side yard is a footpath from the fields to the forest behind us. Each morning when I let the dogs out, they eagerly examine every bush and tree, almost incensed that another animal had the audacity to enter their territory. Gus, the male of our two dogs, marks every spot with intensity, reminding the coyotes that this is his yard. I feel sorry for the little pine in the far corner that has taken quite a bit of marking an
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