Street Football with a Watermelon

I went shopping on my own this afternoon after my daily swim. The better half is in bed with a cold. On my travels I picked up a beautiful organic watermelon. By the time I got home the sun had set and it was very cold. Bit by bit I staggered in with my bags. I can only do one at a time as I need the other hand for my stick. The last bag had the swimming gear and the watermelon. As I put the bag down in the snow so that I could close the car door it tipped over and Mr. Melon went for a stroll down the drive and into the street. I tottered after it taking great care on the ice and talking to it like the idiot I am.
Mr. Melon paid no mind and came gently to rest in Victoria St. Now what? I couldn't bend down to pick the wretched thing up as I needed one hand for my stick and that melon was a two hander. So we played a little football, me and Mr. Melon. Bit by gritty and snowy and salty bit I dribbled the bugger up the slope and into the driveway. We made it to the gate where I really had to work to get him over the edge of the pavement. Inch by inch I got him to the back door. By now my ungloved hands were turning white with the cold so even if I had two good legs my hands were useless. I finally got the door open, turned sideways and managed to slide him up and over the threshhold where I promptly slipped on the wet tiles. No damage done it seems to me or Mr. Melon. He's washed now and sitting on the kitchen counter as if butter wouldn't melt.
I think I'll move to Africa.

Christmas Eve

It has been a week now since Carolina has joined the family. She has a very strict routine. One is up all night painting the town red and eating everything in sight; then one retires to one's boudoir to recover until the sun sets. The cycle repeats itself. It suits Tiny Madam, though we only see her after dark when we are winding down and she is winding up. Kittens can be very tiring. She's fatter than she was ; her purr is louder and her coat is glossier so I assume she is more or less content. Loud noises and sudden sounds cause her to scarper but it will take a bit for her wild upbringing to lose it's grip. She is very neat and tidy. The litter box gets a good workout and one always grooms after dining dontcha know?
She is downstairs right now supporting the chef as he prepares the evening meal. Or perhaps she is helping my knitting along. As I said kittens can be tiring. Merry Christmas!

Once More with Feeling!

We have a new addition to our family. She or perhaps he fits in a teacup and eats like a stevedore. Her name is Carolina for the moment and she is a tiny, abandoned, totally black kitten. She was found one very cold December day wandering around Yorkdale. Now she is wandering around our house. We seldom see her, only now and again when she appears heading for the chuck wagon.We know she is here because no matter how much food is put out it is gone within an hour or two,and no one sees it go!!!. Like having a fairy in the house.
She is not averse to being petted if only you can find her to pet her. She has a very tiny purr and enjoys a gnaw or two on ones fingers.We have pictures taken during sightings to prove that she exists. She's a dream to leave alone( as long as there is food) for she doesn't want the bother of a relationship at the moment. Not like her predecessor who screamed as doors were closing. And screamed again as they opened. But then Kathleen was a woman of many words, all of them high pitched. We still wish she was here, screams or no. This little one is sweet but remains a bit of a Greta Garbo. It's hard to get to know someone who "wants to be alone..."

Neither Flesh nor Fowl nor Good Red Herring!

Oi was about a roight tasty liddle snack wi' two o' moi best mates on Tuesday when we gets to talking about the weather... as country people do.
This November we as ad nary a flake o' snow to grace ourselves with nor as moi mate put it, neither flesh nor fowl nor good red 'erring! What that moight mean in regard to the weather oi do not roightly know but moi mate is a clever liddle tacker and oi believes 'er though oi don't know about red 'errings as they sound loike they foreign muck they dish up every now and then in the local. They 'ad mushrooms last week. Narsty things mushrooms. You never knows when a toadstool moight ave slipped in. Sorry we was on about November warn't we.
Moi old Dad used to blame they Atom Bombs when the weather went off but them things is a thing of the past and roightly so. Dad was never sure about 'is liddle maids when they bombs was banging about. The milk you know.The liddle dears can't let down when they 'as nerves, an oi don't blame em one bit!
The weather now. Oi says to Mother "Mrs. Giles. Oi fear we are in the midst of Change."
"Oh aye" says Mother."Oi'm done with the Change oi am. Narsty it were. Them noight sweats were a bugger."
"Nay Mother,"oi says" not that Change, oi means climate change!"
"Aahh" ... says Mother. She is a gal of few words. Oi'm sure we is all suffering because of it. Tain't natural no snow in November, taint roight.
Well oi asn't finished with this yet.Oi will get to the bottom of it or moi name is not Giles. Oi'll be back!!

A Walk With Jakey

I was down in the Big Smoke on Thursday helping out with the Eastern Cousins. Mamma Trish was manning The Grinder or rather womanning it. Daddy Jamey was minding the nippers but a bit wobbly on his pins still from the flu so it was Nana's job to provide some limited support. There, now you have the background. At Franki's naptime we four went for a walk as this is how she falls asleep. Jakey had firm instructions to hold my hand as running after him right now is a luxury I cannot indulge. He was as good as gold. We conversed non stop mainly about "dougodayz choo choo"( figure it out for yourself).
Once Franki had conked out Jamey took her back to the house and Jakey and I went to visit Mum at work. By now he was on his little push bike and had a request from me to go slow. I was really worried he would scoot down that tunnel with such a head of steam that he would end up on the centre line of Main St. Well the little sweetie shot off for three pushes then stopped dead, turned around and watched to see where I was. Then off again at top speed, screeching to a halt, a look over his shoulder to see where Nana had got to now, and then another burst of speed, and so we progressed. He skidded around the corner and shot through the shop door to have his visit with Mum, me trailing after like Hopalong Cassidy.What a thoughtful little boy. I have high hopes of wobbling him over to the park here in Aurora now that I now he's looking after me as much as I am looking after him!
I don't know about Franki. By the time she's on the run I hope to have a metal hip. Something in her tiny demeanour tells me I may need it.

Flowers That Bloom in the Spring, Tra La!

We were out piling leaves on Kathleen's grave on the weekend and I wandered out early Sunday morning with a cup of tea in hand to make sure they had stayed. They had and I was amazed at how much like spring it was when I saw it. A primrose. A purple one. Blooming. Here in the Great White North. In November!!!!
We have seen them in bloom in Europe this time of year but never here. We have a picture of Martina as a tiny tot gazing at a yellow one that bloomed one Christmas morning in Eichgraben. But here?
Perhaps a rose or two for Advent. Some snowdrops to bring in February. Daffodils and cherry blossom for the beginning of March. Why not?
Roll on climate change!

A Memorial for Kathleen

We found our missing kitty, in a pile of leaves up by the side fence, frozen solid. I had had yet another dream about her and thought she had fallen off the roof. Up Heinrich went to look as I searched yet again below. He perhaps saw her from the roof. I guess her fur blended in with the leaves up close. I don't know. We had all looked there days ago while we searched for her. She will get buried tonight with two pretty geraniums on her little grave. We will mulch them well and perhaps in spring they will bloom.
No risk any more of a clawing on the way down the stairs in the morning . The little paw would come out in full claw and whip like mad at anything that passed. Heads, arms, feet. It was all fun and games with Kathleen.We would have the scratches to prove it. All friends who took her on their laps for a little pet were bitten more often than not. She could be a right peevish little madame but we loved her still and now she's gone and we will miss her.

Tea and Toast

Of all the things I miss most in the world of food it's tea and toast. Tea was cast aside years ago when I gave up milk and tea just doesn't taste right without milk. Then it was tea and its other brother coffee that I had to say goodbye to for the sake of my well being.The last and hardest to bare was the demise of toast. Wheat and yeast were playing havoc with my insides so off to try rice bread with wild yeast. That tepid love affair lasted for a while but the wild yeast had me in it's grip too, so goodbye to all that as well.
What are we left with? I'll tell you what we are left with! Fond memories that's what! The thought of a hot cup of tea and two slices of buttery brown toast can bring on tears now that I can't have it. If I was the weepy type. A nice crunchy Ryevita, healthy though it might be is nothing more than a chore to eat. And the bits get stuck in your teeth! And stuff on top slides off. Aaaargh....Ever tried hot mushrooms on Ryevita? Don't; or anything else hot or moist.
Tea and toast was what you had to eat when you were getting better from any ailment. I had it after childbirth which is not of course an ailment but should be. You certainly ail while you are working through it!
Tea and toast was love on a plate. Almost as good at love as chocolate. Now there's food for a blog. Next time! Perhaps if I keep writing about this stuff I won't feel the loss.

Doris

I don't know why I woke thinking of my mother this morning. Probably because the cat is still missing and when she(the cat) was particularly peevish I would call her Doris. Mother Dearest is still with us though she has grown very thin and can do nothing for herself except take a swipe now and then at someone who is talking to her. Her favourite target is the kindly Ken who delivers Holy Communion at the weekly semi Mass in the nursing home. He has developed a way of extending the Host to Ma but standing well back in case he has to duck a sidewinder. She is good with the baby dolls that drift around the floor. She blows in their little rubber faces. O_o That and trying to disrobe no matter where or when are her limited occupations these days. She is belted into her wheel chair so the shedding of garments is reduced to ripping off her socks, patting them flat then trying to get them back on. She seems to enjoy this most during Mass. Sitting next to her can be a challenge as she likes to slap and pat anyone she can reach(while doing the sock thing too). Gifted considering her limitations! Oddly enough I have grown quite fond of this Doris. She has no idea who I am and I can sit beside her quite peacefully while she does her thing of the moment. There is no need to walk on eggshells making conversation and no chance of hearing yet again what a loser I am. Just mildly attentive in case I have to duck but that's a minor point.
We celebrated Mother's Day at a Healing Mass. We rode together on the big purple handicapped bus to the church where we did our best to keep the sock waving at bay. When the hymns began Ma revved up into what passes for loud conversation but no one minded as there were all sorts of stranger things going on that morning. The Parish brought out a lovely Italian hot lunch but Doris these days can only manage yoghurt and apple sauce though she did get a fizzy pop as a treat. It took me back to when I fed my babies. Almost as messy too.
I used to think if she were to wake up and know where she is and what she has become, she would kill herself, but now I am not so sure. She is surrounded by love and kindness and people who have really become her family. There are worse places to be.

A.W.O.L.

It's been a while I admit but there really hasn't been that much that I thought would be of interest to you Gentle Reader until today.
I am sad to say that our Kathleen has gone missing. She didn't show up for breakfast and we are not even sure if she even went out last night.The door is a revolving one as far as she is concerned. We saw her at supper when she ate a hearty meal and I thought she was in for the night.
There was no sign of her this morning and I went out early in my dressing gown to call for her but no answering shriek. The Better Half went around the block calling and I went to Betty Next Door's garage and called but only an ominous silence. Katherine Across The Street also walked around the neighbourhood calling for her. We even looked in Sheppard's Bush though how a cat who is afraid of cars would get across all those streets is a mystery.
The house has been searched from top to bottom in case she is unwell and hiding. No luck. I wish it wasn't so cold tonight. That's two cold nights she's been gone. Poor little Poubelle!!

Poor Port Hope

We were all set to have another good look at Port Hope as a future home seeing as we like it so much. We had even gone so far as to see a realtor and look at affordable and adorable houses. So far so good. That evening I was reading a freebie newspaper which had a big article on the Port Hope Initiative. Which means they are taking the next ten years to clean up all the radioactive Eldorado crap that has been dumped all over town. Up to ten thousand homes will have their gardens dug up and the stuff buried in a concrete tumulus near the 401. It sounds like something Homer Simpson may have hatched. While this is happening the dust will be blowing all over(radioactive dust!!). Well!! What can we say? Much as Port Hope is beloved we can't ask family to come visit and wear head to toe protective gear. Or bring their own Geiger counters in case they missed a bit. Silkwood comes to mind and look what happened to her!
Plan B has now swung into action which is to go out to the West Coast and have a lengthy look around in late winter. Sydney By The Sea looks charming and the air seems clean and the ground does not glow at night. We will see. More than likely nothing will happen other than a great holiday but you have to do something when you retire. Life isn't all lardie cakes!

Swimming

We joined a swim/sport gym in July and have been diligently at it ever since. The swimming that is, not the gym part of it. We are not insane, not yet anyway.The water is heated to near blood(91F) and is salt!!! It is sheer heaven if you have achy bits and even if you don't. We go at differing times. The only time it's a bit dodgy is when it's full of school kids on an outing. Even then I have had fun dodging the kamikazi leapers.
"Watch the lady (me) she has glasses!" squeaks someone followed by a terrific splash.
Often we are the only ones and that is peaceful but rather dull. There are exercise groups, kids classes, babies barely hatched in the tiniest swimsuits imaginable, injured people and old trouts like us. Sometimes all together which makes life much more interesting.
Today we are going later in the afternoon as the grass needed a final cut and a pineapple salsa was waiting for cilantro which could only be got at Mr. Joe's. Such is retired life so far. We are hoping to pep things up in the future.
Perhaps a jaunt to the AGO!
Maybe start a winery!
Meanwhile I have a chair to finish and a session at the pool to attend.

A Day at the Beach

We went out on a drive last Wednesday and ended up in Port Hope, my favorite small Ontario town. The beach was absolutely deserted except for the seagulls who were few in number. There was a stiff southerly breeze which kept the wasps at bay and the sun was belting down. Heaven! After some time relaxing on the sands I headed out into the waves. Normally I do my lake or ocean swimming alone as the better half will get wet only if the water is clean and warm. I struggled on one good leg with the waves and had to ask for help, so in he came. Who would have thought it. He had a good time! He was laughing! I had no camera! No, I am not lying! We rolled around in the lake for quite a while then back to the beach to dry off. By then school was out and the kids were wandering down so we packed up.
Oh yes, I forgot the granny. There was a frail elder also battling the high seas. She had a mop of silver hair and purple streaks in it. My people!!!
I love Port Hope.

The Return

Guess who was in our garden again this week. Yup, good old Rocchina, she of the mammoth torso. She was found by the Better Half luxuriating in the birdbath to the horror of the cat. Said cat had wandered into the shrubbery for a short slurp when she left in a hurry. Upon investigation there we found Rocchina. I shouted and clapped my hands. Rocchina hauled herself to her feet and shambled over to Betty Next Door,where she rested from her labours on the front porch. Then she headed south and sat in front of the church steps a wee while .That didn't seem right so over Victoria St. she wobbled as motorists swerved and beeped.When last seen she was parked in front of the Old Library having a lick of her unmentionables.
It took the cat some time to resume normal size. I had to wash out the bird bath. I have been leaving a big dish of water for the raccoons which they do use as it is filthy every morning.Perhaps it's the greenery Rocchina prefers while she is near water. She is such a honker she has got me nervous while I am outside. Raccoons at high noon are not normal.

Rocchina

I was in the upstairs bathroom brushing my teeth yesterday when I looked out the window into the garden and saw what appeared to be a small bear.This is not unlikely as we had in June a huge hoohaa over a two year old black bear who had got himself in a pickle merely two blocks from here on Wells St.

Well on closer examination from the downstairs window it was not a bear but a massive raccoon. Said raccoon seemed a bit dozy. She would amble around then bang into a tree trunk followed by a bit of grooming, rather like when a cat makes a graceless landing and promptly grooms to show you that they meant to fall on their arse. She bumbled her way onto the deck while I hollered for reinforcements from upstairs. While I chased Rocchina back into the yard with help from my handy walking stick and loud profanities, the Better Half started working the phones to see who would take her away. No one apparently. The Ministry of Whatever (Raccoons?) would have to be advised in triplicate.
In the meantime, Girl of the Limberlost is heading for Betty Next Door who has two dogs who are not the sharpest knives in the drawer. I called her to warn her of the approach so she locked up the doggies and came out armed with a broomstick. The two of us beat the bushes with our weapons of choice but no sign of Rocchina. She had vanished into thin air and I sincerely hope that's where she stays.

What's in a Name?

I was thinking about names this morning and how they can be fiddled with, as in nicknames etc. I remembered an old song I used to sing to various kiddiewinks in years gone by. It was called the Name Game. I first heard it sung by Goldie on "Rowan and Martin's Laugh In". If that doesn't date me nothing will. It was sung to a really bad little tune as you plonked along on a guitar.
(the name) let's say Jen, then the twaddle:
"Jen jen bo ben, banana fana fo fen, mee my mo men, Jen!"
Lunacy really.
Next I got thinking about the flowernames I gave to my sprogs when they were little. Lily Martina, Lupin Jamey, Victoria Rose, Hannah Dahlia. Now we have the next generation so they too have flower names and no complaints as I thought long and hard about this. Here we go: DanielLion, Sorenthymum, Jakeynachea and little Frankigolds. They all look and smell divine! And they are good for your health!

Huck and Tom on the River

On one of the very few hot and sunny mornings of 2009 we helped launch the Guppy into the upper reaches of the Don River. Victoria and Laura were manning the oars and heading south to the Keating Channel in Lake Ontario for pick up. Loaded with supplies they drifted off around a bend and we went off to find the rendevous. The weather was due to change to thunderstorms in the afternoon. Natch!
Well it seems we got lost and so for a while did they. After much driving in circles we found the Keating Channel but no sign of the Gup or it's voyageurs. By early afternoon the black clouds rolled in and then the heavens opened. The river rats had to get out or risk electrocution but get out where was the question. They were under a green bush and it all looked the same! Hurried phone calls narrowed the pickup site to somewhere near Bloor Street. Then more land marks were looked at and it seemed to be Todmorden Mills. Finally the river rats, all wet by this time, were found in a layby off Pottery Road. Sodden gear was tossed in the car and off home for hot showers and hot food. Tom developed a bad cold but Huck stayed healthy and is raring to finish the job. If we get some decent weather. The Guppy awaits.

Pigs in Blankets

I had a scio treatment last night and it left me wide awake but stupified for lack of sleep if that makes sense. Well it does to me. Between repeated jaunts to the loo, and much tossing and turning in a desperate need to focus on something non miserable I came up with a great way to use leftover knackwurst. You know how pesky those leftovers can be and when you buy things in a pack they seem to multiply overnight in the fridge. Must be the dark.
Right, on to the pigs. These are leftover boiled knackers. I wouldn't use them au naturel though it says on the pack you can. They are disgusting. Right boiled cold knackers and a thawed piece of PC puff pastry. Cut into six pieces[ the pastry] and wrap the piggy tight with little head and feet hanging out. Prick all over with a fork and slam into a 400 degree oven on a parchmented baking sheet until they smell good. They will be golden brown on top and darker on the bottom and Red Hot so eat with caution. Really delish. Can have with hot mustard and also good cold. Pastry is crumbly so have a bib handy.
There, I had a cup of cocoa today. That means there may be another bad night so we will see what comes up food wise.

Continuum

The littlest grandson came toothfirst into a hard object at the playground today and is now missing said tooth. He will be a bit gappy until his second teeth come in but he seems to have weathered the storm.
The misadventure brought to mind a similar time when the tiny one's Dad was the same age and took a header over his little flowerpower pushbike onto the paving stones in the garden. This was when we lived in Austria. I picked him up all howling and bloody and took him into the house to mop him up and survey the damage. His little lips were so swollen I couldn't see into his mouth. The next day it seemed the bottom part of his two upper centrals had gone missing in a very perfect semi-circle, as though he had pushed a stone through his teeth. You can see it if you look at old pictures. It gave him a rakeish air, though I grieved for a while for his perfect little teeth.
His sister tripped over a ship's raised doorway when she was three. The blow knocked her two front teeth up into her gum. We thought the teeth were gone and as it was a Russian ship and few of the crew spoke English we had her suck on ice for a bit then fed her some ice cream [ sweets are the English cure for anything that ails you] and put her to bed. Next day to our surprise the teeth were back!
This blog could go on and on with horror stories concerning my offspring and their misadventures but I need to save something for another day. Another trip down memory lane.

A Liddle Drap a Rain

Oi was out inna medder early this mornin an they cows were ahll a layin down. Ah... Oi sez to moiself, there's gonna be a liddle drap o rain afore this day is out. Ah course Oi saw the red sunrise when Oi was out milkin moi liddle maids so no wonders theys all flat out in the medder. Mother too was complainin about her knee. It gives her roight old gyp when the weather changes. A real barometer that knee is, o' course without they liddle wheels and numbers loike. But good as! When Mother starts amoanin about that knee Oi knows we're in for it.
We have ad a roight wet summer this year. Oi has to get the 'ay in soon an Oi needs two good dry days to do it. Seems loike it's not to be, an Oi don't know what Oi will do for them cows if we as to buy 'ay. Tis a shockin price 'ay is an where will it come from Oi asks if we are all wet? It 'll come fram foreign part Oi reckons an Oi don't know as moi liddle maids will relish 'ay from foreign parts. What them foreigners grows in they medders is anybodies guess. Oi can't stand it when moi maids get a dose o grab bag. Oi reckons strange 'ay is just asking for trouble but what is a poor farmer to do. We are at the mercy of the skies that's all, moi maids an Oi. At the mercy of the skies.

Dada is as Dada Does

Went to the AGO last week to see the Dada exhibit and found it rather sparse. I was peering at the shading on one of the many line drawings when a member of the braying classes was heard in full throat from across the room. We all heard her, couldn't help not... however she was very interesting. She was the grandaughter of one of the artists on show... Willi Frick. She was telling a very young sidekick how his work had been stuffed away in a potting shed in the bottom of his grandfather's garden as the Reich was on the hunt for decadent art. It sat there mouldering until Loud Woman went to pay the oldies a visit in 1967 and rootling around in the shed unearthed the treasures now on view. Some of them were very tatty looking. It made it all seem sadder than it was, as the lead artist, Angelika Hoechle had died of TB in 1924 just as she was getting up a head of steam. They all except one dropped off their perches very early. Sad little grey and white sketches of what must have been at the time cutting edge art. Looks like neat doodles now esp. with the mould spots. Enjoyed myself immensely!

Hadrian's Wall

All this Geordie business got me tripping down memory lane to when I lived in Geordieland and thought nothing of it other than that the sun seldom shone and I would have preferred that it had. That and being cold in the house because the only heat was a coal fire that roasted your front and froze your back.
The outings were great though, as there was any amount of great places to go, all within a sixpenny bus ride from the seaside, to Durham Cathedral. My fave was the Wall to which we drove. It was always cold and cloudy even in August but that was ok . The food was good and there were miles of moorland to roam and the Wall to walk on.
I would sit on it looking towards Pictland, eating my scotch egg, swinging my heels and thinking about Romans and how they left bits of themselves everywhere. Then I had a brainwave and told my Dad that it would be great if the Wall was rebuilt as it was in Roman times with soldiers in their outposts and attacks from gnarly Picts. He agreed.
Now close to half a centuary later the whole place or lots of it is a huge living history lesson full of tourists eating Big Macs and nary a Scotch egg in sight. Just think, I was a visionary.
I haven't seen it since. I like to think of it the way it was then with us and a few sheep and moors full of gorse and heather.

GeordieFest Two

Well the big day has come and gone. The weather held out, it was really a lovely summer day and a treat after all the rain. People seemed to enjoy themselves especially the little people who had a very good time with Sheila's blow up castle. Next year Franki can stagger around as well, instead of watching from the sidelines. She seemed contented enough being passed from lap to lap. I have masses of pictures which I will pass on once my tech support is available. Next Sunday is Sheila's birthday so we get to have more fun this time with a pool!
GeordieFest Three will be instead, Wienerfest Eins 2010 with white wine, schnitzels, risi bisi, sachertorte and lashings of whipped cream. We may cater the schnitzis as the prep this year for the geordie grub turned into a bit of a marathon. Thank you to my kitchen helpers. Had it not been for you I would have chucked the whole lot into the bin and started afresh with IKEA. Now I have to get in touch with the cousins in Spain and see if I can lure them over. Along with Uncle Ted of course.
THANK YOU ONE AND ALL FOR MAKING SUCH A LOVELY DAY!

The Silence of the Screen

We are into our third cable free week. So far so good. The days seem longer and quieter. I have read a lot of books, but then I always read a lot of books. I have managed to see some super movies both on the big screen and the little one. To be honest the ones on the big screen were crap. The crossword gets done every other day. Hmmm... what other changes? Well I was sneaking in Coronation St. on the computer but Rogers sent me an email to say I had nearly reached my cap. I was unaware I had a cap. Seems I do and downloading t.v. is going to cost me, so it's goodbye Coronation St. I don't miss it really; it was pretty bad. There is always stuff to do in the garden. The linen closets have to be changed over. Oh there is lots to keep us busy... seems awfully dull looking at this. No wonder t.v. seemed so appealing. There will have to be some thought put into it, I can see. Perhaps it's time to dust off old manuscripts.
Oh lest we forget, there is the laundromat. The aged washer finally bit the dust and has had to have a gut rebuilt. It's so ancient that they don't make parts anymore but build them to order. Still it's cheaper than a new one. We can watch the wash slosh around and do the crossword as well. Can life hold much more? I ask you. It's all go up here.

Update

Life just trundles by up here. I get so busy doing nothing much that I forget to write and it is easier to tell a story here than over and over again as I meet people. That is assuming that anyone is reading this!
Yes... the boat. After much thought and grinding of teeth and wringing of hands it has been decided that a sailboat, much as we long for one, is too much physical work for two OAP's with four arms. three legs, and one back between them. So.. We are now on the hunt for a power boat, a sort of small floating cottage. Point and steer as it were.
The Better Half is building fences. He has just finished his second. This is done with younger backs to wield the sledgehammer. The fences are lovely and have a sort of zen like quality. Very elegant.
I am partway through a new painting and as it is done in oils, it's paint for two hours, dry for two weeks. I hope to finish by the end of June, humidity willing.
We attended number one grandchild's end of school concert. His stage presence was a little less than we had expected from such a lively boy. He never looked at the audience once nor did he open his mouth. At one point he clapped his hands over his ears. He seemed very relieved to be home where he turned into his normal happy, rambunctious, self. Well, they say the Stage is a calling. I remember his uncle having to be dragged off at the same age. Center stage seemed to be his home away from home!
Today as the sun is shining we are weeding the garden , making rhubarb and apple, visiting the Farmer's Market down the street, and possibly laying a brick path. Depends on the four arms, three legs and one back...

Grandpa and the Mourning Doves

I was having a conversation with the youngest offspring today and for the life of me I don't know why we got on to the topic but we did. It may have been the next to youngest come to think of it now. Who knows , my past is a blur. There is just too much excitement here in Aurora what with black bears roaming the neighbourhood at night and getting treed the next morning. True! Check the t.v.
We, whichever child I was talking to started remembering how much my Dad hated mourning doves. He hated the way they cooed. There was a tree about level with his third floor balcony and the lovely gentle things would roost there and coo at him. Well, he took it personally.
In retaliation he would go out early in the morning or at dusk, whenever they were at coo, and sling used teabags at them. Poor dovies would arise in a great clatter and Dad would feel much better. He never wanted to hurt them hence the used teabags. He just wanted them to shut up.
That got us thinking about how much the tree has grown in the five years since my parents left their apartment. It's now level with floor eight, the very top of the building. Perhaps a new occupant will look out at the tree, when the leaves are gone, and find fossilized tea bags hanging by their little strings and wonder, 'What the...?"
I know it's not likely but it made a charming picture. Better a teabag in a tree than a bear!

" Rock Buns Is For Bairns "

I was raised on rock buns and hated them. I know they sound like a figment of my overactive imagination but they are very real and somewhere in the U.K. at this moment a small child is being offered a rock bun and is too polite to say no.
So to ease all of your minds, for I know this is of great concern to everyone, here is the recipe for rock buns. I dare Hannah to make them for the Mercuries!

8 oz. flour
baking powder
4oz. sugar
4oz. butter
3oz. currants
1oz. mixed peel
1 egg
a little milk

Mix flour and sugar in bowl. Rub in butter. Mix in currants and peel. Mix to a stiff dough with egg and milk. Place in rough heaps on a greased baking sheet. Bake at 400 F for 20 minutes.

There they are in all their lusciousness: Rock Buns!
I haven't eaten one in 40 years and I am not about to now but they may make an appearance at the GeordieFest. We'll see.

Aquarius

We are off on an adventure this Wednesday. We are driving up the St.Lawrence to see a sailboat. She is called Aquarius and is a little Grampian made in Oakville many years ago by a Scotsman. I have been an admirer of Grampians for a while and this one appeared out of the blue. The price is right, the boat is right, are we right? That is the only question. Neither one of us is a sailor though it is never too late to learn. She would live just to the north of us in Soldier's Bay if she joined the family. Once we got our lake legs we could take her down to the County or up to Kingston or the best yet, watch the Air Show from the poop deck! I have photos of her but I don't know how to get them on the Blog. My tech support is out at the moment but as soon as I can I will put them out there. Wish us luck!!

The New Way

Well we have thrown ourselves into the fray. As of May 13 there will be no television at 63 Victoria St. All winter long there have been rumbles and grumbles about the crap that passes for programming. Now that Rogers has taken over we will pay more money for the pleasure of watching trash. Ever the one to gallop off where angels fear to tread, I consulted with His Nibs and suggested we become a telly free zone for the summer. Just to try it out. H.N. said sure why not, so off I went to Rogers and cancelled the buggar! Bear in mind H.N. bought himself a great big walloper of a new t.v. as a retirement prezzy! So it's time to rummage among the many dvd's that take up room.
We really don't have to watch a screen at all. We could read a book or two which we do all the time (the library is scarcely far!) The garden beckons and there is always a plant or two in need of attention. We could even watch Kathleen try to catch something. She did once. It was a chipmunk of course. They seem to walk into danger, those things. They certainly don't run from it. We might listen to music of an evening, or fill up the photo albums or sketch books. Or just sit on the porch and watch the world go by. That's what old people used to do. That and bake rock buns for the bairns. I see a whole new world before me, for a while anyway.

Addendum

I just want to add a little bit to the news about Mr. Mercury. He starts his shadow April 30 and is in his home sign of Gemini for a while before he shifts to Taurus. This is the time to add re to things; as in re-evaluate, re-align, re-do, re-vision. Just be clear in your mind before you act or it could well re-bound on you. Be very clear about your intentions and keep travelling to a minimum.
Good luck, may the force be with you.

The Winged One is Back

Yes that's right! Our friend Mercury goes into retrograde April 30 and clears his shadow June 15. As usual be cautious when travelling, which for most of us, is on the road. This retrograde has a bit of a twist as Scorpio is also in the mix. If something feels wrong one must listen to their intuition and use it as a guide. This is especially important for the next six weeks. Do what your intuition tells you and you'll be o.k. I will get more information on this and if there is anything more re the retrograde I will let you know. I find them (Mercury retrogrades) trying, as they seem to target my computer. Right now my mouse is a bit poorly. By May 1st it'll have clicked its last click. I would put money on it! Ciao for niao!

Abba Toyay to Me!

Another birthday has been and gone. That makes 62 years on the planet. One gets weary just thinking about it and if the scio is right I get 35 more to enjoy. The mind boggles!
We went to see the movie on the Imax,"The Journey of Ibn Battuta" which was wonderful. I love movies. Rather I love going to the movies. Watching them on the tv is all right but nothing beats the big screen and the Imax is BIG!
I also got a membership to the AGO and am off to see the Holman Hunt exhibit next week. So exciting! The Grange{ the haunt of my days at OCA} has been turned into the members lounge so I can go on a trip down memory lane while I enjoy a cup of tea.
We had a lovely Easter/birthday bunfight as well with all the nippers in attendance. That was fun.
There was a great lunch at Allen's and a very tasty sushi dinner. I have a freezer full of yummy home made Chinese dumplings. I got a beautiful bed jacket/hoodie made by Mennonites and a gorgeous bouquet of flowers. Friends have dropped in with little gifts and best wishes. It has been a super time. I love spring; I love Easter; April is the best month to be born!
Any Virgo who doesn't agree feel free to leave a comment!

A Cold in the Node

Yes I have one. A cold in the node, more a total body cold! We have had the painters in for a week so the house looks fab but we are looking a little seedy. The better half came down with it last week and I thought I would be spared but no. Here I am in full fig with sneezes you can hear for miles never mind the whiplash they produce. Feeling very sorry for myself and tomorrow was to be a lovely day out with all the grands. One lot in the morning, one lot in the afternoon. Now I am stuck here with a fist full of hankies and a mouth full of cotton wool. Well that's what everything tastes like. Oh moan, who's a poor wee me! Ain't self pity disgusting? If I had more energy I would be thoroughly put off but I'm not, so the low moaning will continue. As well as the sneezing etc. I thought writing this would be therapeutic but it's not. Dwelling seems to make things worse so I will away to my bed and with any luck sneeze myself well.

Oi'm Back!

Aar, you dear liddle toads missed me! Oi'm as pleazed as can be to be talking to you agin though Oi has been busy of late as we has Springtoime chores to be seein to. Oi loves the Springtoime, Oi truly does. Moi liddle maids is all in calf, they liddle sweethearts. So too is Angela, not calf of course, that would be roight daft. She's in pig Angela is and proud of it! Her liddle tackers will be here roight soon, an Oi for one, is lookin forwaard to they bacon. Roight tasty our Angela"s liddle tackers is. Course we has to fatten they up first. Then we eats um!
We alzo has the spring lambs a gambolling in the medders. They's roight good too with peas, taters and mint sauce. Mother does a loverly lamb paasty. Makes moi mouth aal awatter it does to think on Mothers paasties. Now! now! we'll has none of they smutty thoughts on Mother and her paasties. You townies need to get your moinds out o' they gutters and your hands on some good 'onest Devon muck!
Hoi! Oi hears my Buttercup bellerin! Must be er time. Oi'm comin moi liddle maid. Farmer Giles will see you through moi pet.
Oi has to go. Been roight pleazant talking to ee. Oi'll be back never fear! Oi am roight fond of you liddle toads, even if yez aare lazy city buggaars! Taaraa!

Sugaring Fini

Well the great sugaring adventure of 2009 has come to a gentle halt. The sap was rising all right. It was a full time job getting the buckets empty, strained into the pot, on the stove and back out again. All the while keeping the squirrels at bay as they thought I had kindly put up the pails for them in which to store their peanuts, which I had kindly given them.
Sadly the maple was not a Sugar Maple nor a Norway either. I looked it all up on the Internet and the bark , the sap and the leaf all looked like our tree. However no amount of boiling could alter the fact that what we were producing was a faint whiff of the real deal. It turned into sugar so I have a very small amount to show for all my troubles. It tastes sweet but not mapley. I am sure it is packed with minerals and is very healthy so it will, tiny bit by tiny bit, get licked off a teaspoon but it is a little disappointing...
If and when I do leave Aurora it will be to a home that has Sugar Maples. I have the spiles and buckets and the patience. All I need is the tree.

Sabi

I don't know what made me think of her but our dog of long ago was in my mind this afternoon so here she is once again. In print this time.
She was, we think, a Basque Shepherd. Fairly large and all black, with a lovely gentle nature, though she shed like a buggar. We found her abandoned in a parking lot near the nuclear energy plant in Pickering. She was approaching every white car that arrived and came to us. Someone had been feeding her peanuts as she had been there for days. As soon as I heard that I was on to the local animal shelter who had no idea when they could rescue her as there was nobody free to get her. Great! The poor beast could not be left, so home she came. The young'uns were thrilled! She rode in the back seat between them being adored, though she ponged like you would not believe. We gave her a bath; more thrills! The cat left home in a huff; consternation!
He came back of course. Never met a cat who was unaware of a good thing when he saw it. We wrapped her up in a pink blanket and laid her on the carpet in the living room with a kiddiwink on either side petting her and she started to cry. I hope I never have to hear such a thing again.
It has been over 30 years since we found Sabi and remembering her crying has me upset all over again. What is it with animals? People can die all around us and yet a pet goes west and we are unglued. Sabi was with us for a good long time and kept us all safe. She wasn't above nipping an ankle or two if she thought her charges were getting out of line. She ended up at the vet's for the coup de gras one sad day as she had developed doggy Alzheimers and began to snap and snarl at the new arrival. New arrival was sadly held to blame for the death in the family by one of her siblings. For a while at least.
Dogs have come and gone since. The last one was a doozy[ he deserves a blog of his own some day!] but none were as sweet as our Sabi. I have no need of a dog but were I to find one again like her I would be sorely tempted. And of course, the cat would leave home!

It Was All Go in Scarborough

I was listening to a bit on Radio One about the Avro Arrow that was hot stuff about a million years ago and it got me meandering down memory lane as one does when one has a fair number of years under one's belt, or hat as the case may be. The Arrow was all the rage in the late fifties and De Havilland employed a lot of people to design and build it. We were all for weapons of mass destruction back then and still are as far as I can see, so the Arrow was putting Canada on the war map and a good time was being had by all. Then Diefenbaker canned it and they are still crying in their soup over in Downsview. Get over it people! We are in the Aquarian Age!
What I wanted to tell you was that the Arrow flew over our house one afternoon and broke the sound barrier while it did. We were very impressed! The boom was a window rattler and the thing was long gone before we had even got our eyes to the sky. Lucky little me to be in Scarborough then.
The other boom I remember was the Thermos factory blowing sky high just as we were sitting down to roast beef and Yorkshire pud. The table lifted off the ground and our dinner with it. My Dad shot off outside convinced that our next door neighbour had driven his car into the side of our house. But no. The factory a mile down the road had blasted itself into oblivion taking a poor watchwoman with it. We watched the flames for ages. Yorkshire pud we could get any time!
I also met the Queen in Scarborough. She was pregnant with Prince Andrew at the time not that we knew. She came to visit us and open the Golden Mile on Eglinton. That was the second time I had seen the Queen. When I first saw her she was a Princess and her train was travelling past the end of our little country road. I sat on my Dad's shoulders and waved my tiny Union Jack at the passing train in the dead of night no less. I was very impressed! I actually saw her a third time as she was getting off the Britannia and walking among the crowds. She was tiny and still is I am sure with blue, blue eyes and beautiful skin. I don't remember anymore about that interlude but that's enough ancient history even for you my devoted followers. God bless your little hearts!

When the Moon is in the Seventh House....

That's right, it is the official age of Aquarius as of this February. Jupiter has aligned with Mars, the Moon is in the seventh house, peace will guide the planets and love will steer the stars... We will wait and see...
That was not what I had in mind when I started this blog. It sort of came out in spite of me. What I wanted to share was that spring is nearly here. The crows are cawing every morning which means the temperature is going up. The Cardinals have come out of the Bush and a pair of Red Headed Woodpeckers have been seen. This leads me to the hardware store to get myself some spiles, as this year I am sugaring! Yes indeedy! It has been a long time since I put the sap to the fire but a taste of homemade dark maple syrup got me all fired up so I have been watching the signs and the sap is starting to rise. Milder days and cold clear nights are another indication that the sap is on the up and up. I will treat myself to proper buckets this time as the lids save a bit of extra work . Only two as the tree is not in the best of shape and I don't want to stress her too much. There won't be much just a couple of mason jars if I am lucky but who cares. I get to be out in the garden doing something when everything is still a frozen mess. Me and the chickadees can celebrate the end of winter and the start of the best season of all. SPRING!!

How Time Flies...

Yes it has been a while. Over a month and a lot has happened in that time. We have a new year, a new baby, a grown up son finally out of hospital and on the mend and last but not least a husband who has retired. Busy time for all concerned!
Tiny baby is named Franziska after her great great grandmother who looked after her Dad when he was a baby and lived in a little village in Austria. He called her "Uhsbama"unable to get his tiny tongue around "Uhrgrossmutter." She called him the Lord of the House so they got along very well indeed. Tiny Franki's not much bigger older brother Jakey is doing what he can to get his head around the disruptions in his little life. He's not quite as smiley as usual but it has all been a lot to bear. Now that Daddy is home again he can start to relax and perhaps give his Mum a bit of space!
Opa of Jakey and Franki and Daniel and Soren has had his last hurrah with the City of Toronto. He spent last night being feted by his collegues, needing several bearers to carry his loot to the car! He plans to sleep for a month then awaken like the bears in spring. We shall see.
Nana of above mentioned grands has decided to learn to teach yoga. This will take nine months; a birth process if ever there was one.
So there you have it. Congratulations to the new parents, to the suddenly older baby brother, to the newly retired Opa and to Nana in her new path in life.
Ps No show without Punch! I forgot our baby who is all grown up and acquired her own restaurant January 1st. Congratulations to you too and many customers!!