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Showing posts from 2020

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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Christmas in the Country

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  Christmas in the Country In these times of uncertainty, I am reminded more than ever that our mental health can be reflected and improved by what surrounds us. This year, more than any other year that I can remember, everything that we hold dear has been questioned and life as we know it has been brought to a grinding halt. As I woke up to that dusting of snow last week and the world was covered in an undisturbed radiant splendor, I was reminded again of why our family chose to live in a rural setting. Before the dogs were let out to start the day, I took a few minutes to admire the pillowy tops of the snow on the trees and the vast expanse of fields and vineyards, quiet and serene on that cold, winter's morning. Later that day I spent some time cutting wild grapevines for some rustic Christmas decor and as I was listening to the quiet around me and feeling the warmth of the sunlight on my face, I felt a sense of peace. The occasional crack of a twig breaking in the forest as my
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Starling Clouds- Nature's Shape-Shifters

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  Since we moved into this home in the fall, one of the earliest memories here is of opening the back breezeway door to the loudest chorus of birds I have ever heard. It was like a swarm of thousands of bees, but at less of a buzzing sound and of the most pleasing tone and pitch I have ever heard. My father-in-law was helping us out with some renovations at the time and was just coming out of the house. So I stopped him and beckoned him to listen to the music coming from the back of the house. This was before he got his hearing aids and sadly he could not even hear one chirp! The birds noticed our presence and in an exodus accompanied by the rushing of hundreds of wings that sounded like one loud whisper, they rose simultaneously and with a whoosh were gone. Since we are in the throes of fall again and winter is approaching rather quickly, I have been conscious of our bird choruses many times over the last few weeks. They will swarm a cluster of trees and have their little chat with e
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Doe, a Deer...

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 Living in a rural setting is relatively quiet and serene. Granted, the tourist traffic picks up for most of the warmer seasons. But now that the temperature is dropping continuously and the brilliant array of reds and oranges on the escarpment is gradually diminishing, our road has become significantly quieter. When our home was a pottery studio years before we came along, the owner also rented out a few rooms for Bed and Breakfast. When we purchased it, a little note remained in one of the rooms referring to our little house as The Potter's Cottage . Although we have changed the facade and the gardens significantly, I still feel as though I am puttering around in a cottage some days and life here is sometimes cottage-like. I often mention the wildlife and the surrounding vineyards as I sit in my office looking out the window and my deep appreciation is evident in my thoughts that I put on paper. But this morning brought a different aspect of wildlife to light.  It was late mornin
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Thanksgiving Dining

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We are celebrating our eleventh Thanksgiving at our home today. We moved in late October in 2009. At that time, there was no access to the east side of the house where most of the property is although we changed that shortly after we moved in by taking out some windows and installing a sliding door and deck. It offers some of my favourite views - the escarpment in the distance, views of the Queenston-Lewiston Bridge and the serenity of endless vineyards dotted by the occassional home or barn. What's not to like? I have always loved paging through magazines or watching shows where they feature outside dining spaces across the world. They can be simple little cafe tables or long elegant rows clad in formal white table cloths featuring the most beautiful dishes and glassware! That type of setting speaks to me and I love arranging something similar for our dinner guests when the weather permits. A few years ago, my mother was off on holiday in Germany and my father was by himself for T
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Moth in the Bed Sheets

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Growing up in a family of six kids, my mother would hang laundry out to dry as often as she could. This was of course a way to use less energy and save on utility bills with a large family. I remember bringing in towels that were so hard and crisp that they scraped your skin as you dried yourself on their abrasive texture. My brothers' jeans stood up on their own retaining the stiffness of human legs and the trademark indentation where the clothespins had secured them in place on the line. Our generation uses the dryer for convenience and ease. Out of the washer and into the dryer. Easy peasy! When we moved to our rural property, I insisted that I wanted a clothesline. My husband, who does nothing halfway, had custom metal posts made at his work that were approximately 20 feet high. These were cemented into the ground and a 75 foot clothesline was erected.  But that was not all. He built a platform for me to reach the line complete with stairs and railings on either side and a
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Jay Walkers

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 As I was driving down Concession 1 this week, I had to slam on my brakes at the last second as a few  Guinea Fowl crossed the road directly in front of me, oblivious to how close they came to grazing the eternal fields! It was mid morning and these three were off strolling about the countryside, without a care in the world. Maybe someone should remind them that Thanksgiving is only a few weeks away? Known for their infamous alarm call, I was surprised to note that they turned a blind eye to me as I tried to get a few photos on my phone before they quietly disappeared into the vineyard. Their beautifully speckled feathers shone in the sun and I could only admire them from afar. According to Wikipedia, the hens are larger than the males. These birds do not get along well with chickens. They are not chickens, as most people believe, but are in fact gamebirds. If you go online, there are so many stories about how Guinea Fowl do not like to be confined. They are also supposed to be fantast
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Potted Toads

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  Potted Toads This time of year brings straw-like grass that crackles and crunches as you walk over it.  The shrill call of the cicadas in the trees, dying vegetation in the gardens and the hot afternoon sun, all indicate that summer is coming to a gradual end. Labour Day weekend is here and school, as strange and unchartered as it will be, is resuming in days. I had just finished a walk around our property, something that soothes me, as I dead-headed a few plants, picked a few tomatoes that had ripened considerably throughout the day and watered anything that seems to be wilting. As I turned on the hose that extends from the pool area, I noted that there was a row of several flowerpots filled with dirt that I had never gotten around to filling with annuals. Something always seemed to get in the way of completing that simple task.  So after I watered the garden and my pop-up pumpkin patch, I lugged each pot individually to the edge of the forest and emptied the dirt there so that I co
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Bird Banger Alarm Clocks

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  Bird Banger Alarm Clocks My daughter and her friend were walking down the Heritage Trail on Concession 1 mid-afternoon last week, when her friend suddenly jumped out of her skin, covered her ears and yelled, "What was that?" My daughter had been chattering about something nonchalantly and had looked at her friend in puzzlement, until, a moment later,   the shots fired again and her friend ducked in sheer terror.  Sigh ... city slickers. What seemed to invoke fear and trembling in my daughter's friend, was of no significance to my daughter. This example clearly demonstrates how easily humans get used to something and how resilient children are. Our youngest was four when we moved into this house. Kilometres away from Inniskillin Wines and literally almost kitty-corner to a small cottage winery, hearing air cannons shooting off their warnings to the swarms of birds that like to raid the vines before the farmers get a chance to harvest the grapes at this time of year, h
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Feeling Sentimental about Barns, Sheds and Outbuildings...

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  Feeling Sentimental about Barns, Sheds and Outbuildings... When I was younger, the farm kids that I grew up with always had interesting little shacks and sheds made from old discarded wood and these were usually situated in the oddest locations on their property. Great for playing hide and go seek, these were generally used for storage for farm equipment or old items that had once served a purpose and were set aside until someone found use for them again. Sadly, these things were generally forgotten and often ruined by the elements and time. When we moved to our home in the fall of 2009, a double car garage was attached to the main house by a breezeway. About 30' behind that was the original garage or work shop that had been there probably since the 50's or 60's. The floor was just a dirt floor and over the years, piles of large pieces of plywood had been laid on top to create a dry floor. It's not a huge building. It could probably house two cars in tandem, but for u
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My Pop-Up Pumpkin Patch!

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My Pop-Up Pumpkin Patch Our son decided that he would use the huge pile of compost that had been acccumulating for over ten years and fill the low spots on our property with this dirt. Our compost pile has been more of an everything pile from the get-go. Grass clippings, piles of leaves, old watermelon halves that nobody wanted to finish, cucumbers that were picked too late and had turned bright orange, leftover tomato seedlings and so much more, all thrown together in a mash of anything that would break down on its own accord. We never had a purpose for this compost pile. It just started and then became what it was.  He spent the afternoon wheelbarrowing and shovelling the beautiful, almost silky soil into the low spots in order for my husband to sprinkle them with grass seed when he was finished. Once generously seeded and watered, these newborn dirt patches would grow and blend with the rest of the property, creating one uniform bed of green. Grow they did. Blend -  they did not. 
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Mornings...

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Mornings... One of the curses of no longer being young (I prefer that terminilogy to "getting older") is that mornings come earlier and earlier every year and getting up at five or six starts becoming a normal habit that you may as well just embrace. With the hot weather we have been experiencing all of July, the cool of the mornings has been pleasant and enjoyable at the crack of dawn. In December, waking up in the dark of a winter's morning does not get the same reaction! When our oldest graduated from high school a few years ago, he invited some friends to camp out at our place to finish off the year. Tents were set up and a huge bonfire was lit. We retreated and left them to their own devices, hoping for the best. The next morning, I got up around six and looked out at the side field to take an assessment of how bad the damage was. Besides the usual disarray of lawnchairs and some chip bags, cans and wrappers lying around, there was hardly any evidence that a
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Growing Weed(s) before it was Legal...

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Growing Weed(s) before it was legal... In our past subdivision life, our lawn was a sense of pride for my husband! On a strict fertilizer and watering regiment and mowed in perfectly straight lines (yes, pull out your ruler and your level), it was like walking on a lush carpet of green. Much to my husband's chagrin, having a fantastic lawn after moving to our cottage life-style, was not to be! Many rural properties have a cistern and well which supplies their daily water usage. So the choice between watering your lawn or having a long shower, especially if the cistern is getting close to needing a refill, hopefully leans towards the hygiene one. We are fortunate to be on municipal water, so really there is no excuse as to why our grass isn't as green as it should be. Because of the mass of walnut trees on our property and the difference between a 50' lot versus acreage, it comes down to one simple decision. Get obsessed with having a turf-like lawn or just sit back a
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Close the Windows, Hold your Breath! I can't say enough about how much I love living on a rural property. Looking out my home office window at the endless stretch of vineyards before me gives me such a sense of serenity and peace. I love my views of the Niagara Escarpment in the distance and am constantly mesmerized by its every changing  colours. On cloudy days filled with bursts of sunlight, you can see patches of dark and light where cloud shadows and sunlight reflect the skies above. Driving down Concession 1 or 2 in late fall, I am amazed at the plethora of fall foliage that looms before me as I drive towards York Road and its rustic beauty never ceases to take my breath away. But these views come at a small price. With vineyards directly across the street from me, we have the off-shore workers starting their day rather early and there is constant tractor traffic at various stages of the season. It does take some getting used to, especially if you are a light sleeper lik
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Chicken Catch-iatore

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Chicken Catch-iatore They say that moving to a rural property offers a simpler lifestyle since the speed of every day slows down considerably. I'm not sure how this is possible. My husband and I work full-time and our evenings and weekends are always filled. I have heard few complaints of boredom from people that moved to a rural property after the hustle and bustle of the city. Never a dull moment here though!  A lovely young couple moved into the neighbouring house  at the end of last summer. Since Covid brought a lot of life as we know it to a screeching halt, the bread bakers of the world began to surface (me being one of them) as well as a distinct primal need to grow one's own food and be independent. That worked for a little while as cottage gardens sprang up and indoor trays of seedlings appeared on kitchen counters and in window spaces. And with that mindset, the serenity of the peaceful call of spring birds and gentle breezes was interrupted by the distinct pound
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That's One Ugly Mouse!

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That's One Ugly Mouse! There is a constant battle between humans and the others that exist where we live, both seen and unseen. Like the ants that show up mercilessly every May and make their surprise appearances in the main bath, my office and the kitchen at the most unexpected times. These large insects do not march two-by-two, hurrah, hurrah, in our house. Instead they lie waiting for me to come into a room, dart out at the most unexpected times and then scramble for their lives as I madly try to get rid of them. I know they're laughing at me like this is some twisted game of theirs! But if scaring me gives these simple insects a bit of fun in their mundane lives, then I can be a good sport. Then there are the four-legged creatures that love our back garage by the pool that is also used for storage while the front garage houses two of our cars and so many unseen inhabitants. Every spring, my husband sets up several traps in both garages and when he arrives homes fro
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Fresh Country Air!

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Fresh Country Air! Everyone in Old Town, Virgil, Queenston or St. Davids, is familiar with fresh country air .  It happens several times throughout the year. We were privileged enough to have not one, but two giant piles delivered to the vineyard directly across the road this afternoon. As luck would have it, our air conditioning finally threatened to give up the ghost this last weekend, just as temperatures skyrocketed to unseasonable highs this last week in May. Now I shouldn't complain since the unit is between 25-30 years old. So open windows have been a saving grace this last while. The weather was pleasant today with the sun shining and the wind tossing the tree branches and bushes around. The two A/C technicians arrived around noon and the installation process began. But so did the manure delivery. The two guys were in and out and at first we weren't quite sure if someone had let a little "fresh air" escape in the room. We continued to interact politely,
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Our Squirrel is an Addict

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Our Squirrel is an Addict We don't have any street lights where we live. It does take some getting used to when you first move to a rural property. When it's dark, it's pitch-black. But on a clear night, the stars are absolutely phenomenal!  There are so many things in nature that happen under the cover of darkness.  A lot of animals are nocturnal and this is their time to feed and forage to their heart's content. My philosophy is that if I can't see them or hear them, I don't really care what happens out there. My husband, who gets up quite early, always goes out and turns off the pool pump that we run all night long during the summer months. We have a solar blanket that is attached to a roller with longer straps. One morning he noticed that the centre strap holding the solar blanket in place was torn almost through. The solar blanket was new, as were the straps that have to be manually attached to both the reel and the blanket. So the tear wasn't from
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Snapping Turtle Standing Guard!

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Snapping Turtle Standing Guard! One of the minor downfalls of rural living is that the roads are well traveled with high speed drivers. It is not always conducive to go walking without having to head onto the shoulder every few minutes when a car passes by. As an avid walker, I decided I would use the outline of our property as my  personal walking path. We have an ancient curly willow tree located right in the middle of our property and on one of my daily walkabouts, I noticed a large snapping turtle parked right the under said tree watching me intently. At first I was a little spooked. Rightly so since I noticed that even though I was generally 100-200  feet away from him at most times, he turned his craggy head ever so slowly and with beady eyes, watched my every step around the yard. True, my pace was a little quicker whenever I walked by the tree, having to pass by him fairly closely. In my mind, I was waiting for this ancient reptile to come charging behind me, snapping his a
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Gone Fishing...

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Gone Fishing... Our property is riddled with field rocks of various sizes, which seems to be a common plight on homes located on the lines and concessions in Niagara-on-the-Lake.  They're found everywhere in the yard, the flower beds and the gardens. Our side property once housed several rows of grapes that were torn out before we moved into the house. My husband spent a few weekends hand raking and digging that part of the property until it was smooth and finally seeded it so that it became a usable part of the yard. He collected piles of these rocks, some that we found uses for, others that remain piled by the edge of the forest. Whoever owned the property a few decades ago, must have been just as diligent as my husband was and possessed an artistic vision that can be seen in little details wherever the eye looks. There was a small fish pond to the east side of the house that somebody had shaped like a lily pad. The elevated rim was decorated with these stones, as well as a b
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Man versus Nature...

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Man versus Nature... When my youngest daughter needed to bring in some snacks for her kindergarten class, I decided to bake some oatmeal cookies. I mixed the cookie dough, measured the cookie size so that they would all come out in even portions and put them in the oven. Once they had baked perfectly, I carried the hot cookie sheet across the house to the back deck. I had a wrought iron table there that I always placed my baking on so that it could cool outside. While I was assembling the second batch, my daughter, who was four years old at the time, let out a tremendous screech! I came running from the kitchen to see her yelling at something outside of the living room window. "Mom!" she called as I rushed to her. "There's a squirrel eating our cookies!" And sure enough, a fuzzy grey squirrel sat cheekily on its hind legs, stuffing bits of oatmeal cookie into its mouth! I banged on the sliding glass door and wrenched it open as he scampered away. But there
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Coyotes in the Basement

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Coyotes in the Basement About a month after we moved into our little farmhouse, my husband called me up from work to let me know that he was bringing home a puppy that night as a surprise for the kids. He had promised them  that we would get a dog once we were settled in. He came home with the tiniest bundle of fur tucked protectively under his arm. The kids were over the moon and after a very short discussion, we named her Susie. Her parentage was questionable, but that really wasn't any concern to the kids. And so, besides still working through the number of boxes that had yet to be opened from our move, the next few months of our lives now had the excitement of raising a puppy, an experience similar to that of raising an infant and then a rambunctious toddler! But as Susie got older, she began the awful habit of howling in the middle of the night. The first few times it happened, we were understanding and were able to quiet her down after a minute or two. But my husband, who
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As Sheep to the Slaughter...

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As Sheep to the Slaughter.. I got up one dreary fall morning to enjoy a steaming cup of tea before the kids got up and stood at the dining room window staring at the vacant house down the road. The amount of rain we'd had over the weeks had turned the dry fields of late summer into vibrant green again, a stark contrast to the grey foreboding clouds looming close to the earth. I observed the plants and the various shrubbery in the flowerbeds around my house but was distracted by a slight movement out of the corner of my eye. Little grey shapes were making their way around the corner of the house that I had just been observing. As they came into view, I noted that the shapes were in fact a handful of sheep that must have gotten out of the neighbouring winery's field. I watched as about six or seven sheep trotted to the front of the house, all in a straight row.  Without even hesitating to ponder his next move, their fearless leader decided that he was going to march up the st
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A Donkey Lives Next Door...

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A Donkey Lives Next Door... One summer evening several years ago, my husband and I sat outside in our Muskoka chairs enjoying a nice glass of local wine. This is one of the perks of living down the road from several fantastic Niagara wineries.  Suddenly the most horrific sound split the air! It was like a goose being strangled, gasping for its last breath in high-pitched, squeaky echoes over and over again. Sheer torture and then...complete silence. Now our property borders on a little thicket and is surrounded by vineyards and several hobby farms with chickens, goats and sheep. Coyotes are a common sighting and their nighttime howls have become a welcome and soothing sound. So we just chalked this interruption up to the sounds of nature that surround us. But these strangled eruptions were not to be a one-time occurrence. A pattern seemed to be forming.  Ear-splitting cries for about two minutes each morning, making a repeat performance for about the same amount of time every
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