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Showing posts from 2021

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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Cathartes Aura

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  Along our morning walks this summer, my friend and I continuously passed by an abandoned house on one of the Lines. It was situated on a larger lot and it looked like someone had purchased it with plans to eventually build a home there. It was a tear-down if ever there was one! The windows had been smashed to pieces, the roof had huge chunks missing and the peeling paint on the old wooden siding looked tear-streaked as if the house had been crying in sheer loneliness and abandonment.  As we passed the house quite early one morning, we were both astounded at the row of silent shadows perched on the rooftop. We both shuddered involuntarily at their presence. They looked like something from a horror movie, like black ravens against the blue morning sky, the stuff that would have inspired Edgar Allan Poe. My friend remarked that she had heard that they hovered around places where death had occurred, making us walk past the house at a much quicker pace than we had been walking until then.
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Under Autumn Skies...

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I know Thanksgiving is a pretty big deal south of the border, celebrated later than our Canadian one. But I am happy that we can enjoy ours earlier, right at the end of the traditional harvest time when the last of the fall tomatoes are ripening, the pumpkins abound and the vibrant fall foliage is a background to our celebration! A big plus is that most years we can even enjoy afternoon appetizers outside in the warm autumn sunshine. Last year's Thanksgiving took place right in the middle of lock-down and I wrote then about my previous outdoor Thanksgiving dinners where I enjoyed setting a festive table almost as much as I enjoyed seeing smiling faces gathered around it. There is such a selection of natural decor to pick from when you drive down our country roads. Purple branches, golden leaves and gnarled vines showcasing burnt orange foliage are abundant and merely the tip of the iceberg in terms of the natural selection out there to choose from! I placed our outdoor table close
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Homegrown Happiness

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  When life gives you lemons, make lemonade! But what about apples and plenty of them? Cider would be the obvious choice! For years we have tried our best to use the apples from the trees that were planted years before we moved here. But this year, the trees seem to be groaning under the weight of their rosy-cheeked crop. Today, of all days, the sun was shining and the temperatures soared like a beautiful summer day. But our day consisted of a true fall activity. We pulled out the old wine press that my father had given us years ago and our day of making apple cider began. Jim and I worked tirelessly to the background noise of his favourite movies playing on the garage TV behind us. Around noon my father-in-law stopped by to drop something off and pulled up a chair to the tables we had set up, grabbed a cutting board and joined in. It was a lot of work! We quartered the fruit for the food processor, then put the mashed-up apples into the press and watched as the elixir of the gods bega
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Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

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  Here Today, Gone Tomorrow!  The Story of our Charlotte's Web As autumn approaches, the sounds of nature's nightlife seem to reach new crescendos. It's the perfect time to sit in the light of a bonfire and to just listen to the music and cacophony all around! It was just by-chance that I turned on the spotlight over our side deck the other night and saw our newest resident arachnid.  This spider seems to have found the perfect spot to set up its magnificent trap for the thousands of insects whirring about.  The light illuminated off of its yellow body as it scurried along the lines, adding and improving continuously. I stood within a foot of its web and it did not falter for a second or give me the time of day. If this spider had been the feature of Charlotte's Web by E.B. White and residing in Wilbur the pig's stall, it would surely have spun "INCREDIBLE" into its silk to reflect its work.  When I pulled back the curtains to let the sun in the next morn
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Pumpkin Patch Passion

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  Everyone has a nurturing side. We parent. We have pets that need our care and attention. And we plant things and watch them grow. There is a deep satisfaction in creating and watching and that is what I get from my little pumpkin patch. Last year I wrote about the gourds that my son, Markus, unintentionally planted in the middle of the yard. I harvested hundreds of gourds of all shapes and sizes last fall. But this year my pumpkin patch was deliberate.  Last fall, I purchased a Jarrahdale pumpkin and a Cinderella pumpkin and harvested the seeds for my own use this year. They were $10 each at one of the roadside stands here in Niagara-on-the-Lake which offer so many different varieties of pumpkins, squashes (yes, that is the correct plural form of squash) and gourds. The Jarrahdale has a thick, bluish, grey skin and originated in Australia. Like Heirloom tomatoes that have been described as the ugliest tomatoes because of their irregular appearance, the Jarrahdale is also considered a
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No Campground Reservation Needed!

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  No Campground Reservation Needed! Our neighbours host an annual "camp-out" for a local rugby team. Every civic long weekend, the tents start popping up on the Saturday afternoon, a plethora of various colours against the background of the green, lush forest behind and the vehicles fill their driveway. This year they have upped the ante and even rented a Porta Potty, proudly displayed for all to see. But this is one of the perks that comes with living in a rural setting. Not the Porta Potty, but the ability and the space to host campouts whenever you'd like. No reservations needed here! Their campfire burned all night and this morning someone was cooking up a delicious smelling breakfast for the hungry masses.  I remember our son hosting a few friends after graduation years ago. They set up tents and hung around the fire all night.  Since there is no high school in Niagara-on-the-Lake (besides a small international school), these St. Catharines teens had no idea that &qu
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The Septic Sagas

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The Septic Sagas  Living with a septic system can seem daunting at first. We're so used to living in a world where we don't think about what goes down the drain. When living in an urban setting, it doesn't matter if you use fabric softener or bleach, or even how much of it you use. But all of that changes with living on a rural property.  There's a sort of environmental responsibility that is handed over along with the keys on closing.  The reality is that you have to maintain your septic. Your day to day activities rely on how well it works.  Since we have an older system, we have run into a few hiccups over the years and it has not been fun. I highly recommend befriending a local plumber who will be available to you because, unless you have an updated system,  you may be giving him a bit of business over the years! Things came to a head for us last weekend. As fate would have it, it was two days before we were to host my father-in-law's 80th birthday party, outsid
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The Path Less Travelled

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The Path Less Travelled   Morning walks along the Niagara Parkway with my ever faithful walking partner are my absolute favourite time of the day! We have walked that path in snow, rain, sunshine and humidity. Across from Tregunno Farms, most people choose the upper path, which still leads along the road. But we usually choose the lower one leading through more of the forested area, which ends up being a bit more challenging as we make our way to the top at the end.  Over the last few months, we have observed the various stages of bloom and foliage as spring has turned into summer. And yesterday I noticed tiny red dots along the side of the path. Upon closer inspection, I was excited to discovery puny wild strawberries and quite a few of them. I picked one for myself and handed one to my friend. She looked like a deer caught in the headlights as she fervently shook her head. There was no way she was going to eat something plucked off the forest floor! I had a small chuckle and, without
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Fly Paper Fiasco

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Fly Paper Fiasco This is my favourite time of year! I love the cooler mornings filled with birdsong, the dew on the ground and the unbearably hot afternoons that call for a refreshing dip in the pool. But with the change from spring to summer comes the invasion of the flies. .. Living in an agricultural area doesn't just mean vineyards and fruit trees. It means sheep and chickens and horse farms down the road, which attract these disgusting insects.  This results in the constant battle of not letting these pesky flies into the house as they desperately cling to the screens on the sliding doors or hover in the breezeway, looking for the tiniest opportunity to come inside.  Flies gross me out!  I can't stand the thought of what they're doing every time they land on the counter or walls or food while we are eating. We never wanted to be that red-neck family with fly paper hanging from the light fixtures, but desperate times call for desperate measure and here we are! Our house
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Messy, Messy Nature

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Messy, Messy Nature Once again, we are blessed with a beautiful Sunday morning! The birds are singing their hearts out and in the distance, a tractor is rumbling around in the vineyard, a sign that the work week does not stop for our farmers. Just as I finished typing the title of this blog, I adjusted my laptop and accidentally hit the pot in which I was trying to grow my precious heirloom tomato seedlings. I had been pleased with twelve seedlings peeping out of the dirt several weeks ago and, as of last week, was down to four. So as the pot crashed to the deck floor, I hastily tried to save these fragile babies from the rubble of potting soil they found themselves under. I repotted them in record time and cleaned the mess left behind. As I was putting away the dust pan the irony of my title did not escape me.... My husband has been complaining for weeks how messy nature is. In this last week, the poplar forest behind us has been showering us with "snow" making the pool and
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The Watcher in the Woods

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                                     The Watcher in the Woods In one of the first springs that we lived in this house, our neighbour told us about the coywolf pair that lived in the thicket behind our property. He warned us that he suspected that they had a den somewhere close by and that the kids were to be careful when they were playing outside. Since I had grown up with woods and a creek as my backyard, I was not in the least worried about a danger factor, but more fascinated than anything else. Interestingly enough, a local magazine had done a feature article on coywolves that spring with a beautiful male on its cover. So the timing seemed uncanny. Every spring, a low area between our neighbour's property and ours fills with water and remains that way for several months. And every spring, we have a male and female mallard come and claim that patch of water for hours of bathing and diving time, though it isn't too deep.  On a grey, overcast day, I was standing by the house w
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Arachnid Habitat

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Arachnid Habitat  When we purchased our home in 2009, I was thrilled with the concept that mail gets delivered directly to rural properties. Although our mailbox looked like it had seen better days or better decades for that matter, we decided that replacing it was at the bottom of the to-do list. After keeping our reserved mailbox open at the local post office for several weeks after our move to ensure that our mail was still getting delivered to us, we switched everything over to the new address. Our move took place during a warm October that year and, for several weeks, the kids fought about who would get the mail every day. That novelty didn't last long at all and soon enough, it was Mom who was checking the mailbox on a daily basis. The only issue was that the mail was not the only thing resting in the mailbox. Tucked in its dark recesses, a couple of spiders had made their tiny cocoons and staked their claim, evidently receiving their mail there as well as ours. Squatters! Th
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Working from Home

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Using your own "Green Space"...   With the Covid pandemic marking its one year anniversary, I am reflecting on the various changes that have come to fruition. Even yesterday, as I was showing a house, the discussion came up as to how crucial home offices are, especially main floor ones. If we are to work from home, or have the option to do so, home offices now come with a bigger wish list than they did a few years ago. Gone is the time where a room in the basement with four walls and a light fixture was sufficient. Now a window allowing a ton of natural light is a must. We need to see outside. We need to be stimulated and have something different to look at other than our screens.  Spacious rooms with high ceilings, creative light fixtures that are functional but also beautiful to look at and walls lined with tranquil pictures that offer the serenity of pastoral scenes are a must. Gone is the desire to have a dark executive office with a heavy, overbearing desk and furnishing
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Hawks and Owls and Ice Rinks, Oh My!

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Hawks and Owls and Ice Rinks, Oh My! I often talk about our youngest daughter, who is a senior skater at the Niagara-on-the-Lake Skating Club. With the lockdown and closing of the local arenas, she found herself unable to skate for the first time in twelve years. So my husband decided to make a rink the old-fashioned way, without a plastic base or boards. This is risky as Niagara-on-the-Lake generally enjoys milder winters compared to surrounding cities because of our proximity to Lake Ontario which regulates our temperatures. Nevertheless he was determined. And so it began.  After compacting the snow into a rink formation, he spent the next several weeks getting up every few hours and flooding. After coming home from full days at work, he would rush out before the last of the daylight disappeared and flood until his hands froze, come in, and then do it again. Two red spotlights left over from Christmas illuminated his shape every night as he lugged the hose outside to the rink, only t
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The S.S. Willy

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                                                                                  The S.S. Willy   I frequently pass by  Four Mile Creek and this week, as I looked out over the grey water, I was thrown down memory lane for a few moments.  The creek and ravine were our backyard when we were growing up. We literally spent hours stomping through the marshy undergrowth, splashing around in the creek and the pond that formed close to the embankment. Every spring, after days of torrential rains, the creek levels would rise and spill over the banks. After the waters receded, we kids would go hunt to see what treasures had been left behind. The usual tangled fishing lines would be wrapped around tree trunks and rogue branches like spider webs on steroids. Lures and bobbers would dangle like bright, red Christmas ornaments on the lifeless branches.  We found a rusty old can with some Asian coins in it once. But one particular year, the flooding creek gave us the most amazing gift ever! That Sat
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