Beach Flowers

A gypsy told my fortune and I told her hers.
I said you'll die high in the mountains wrapped in silver furs.
You'll be looking for you lover in the midnight sun,
And you'll perish for your lover when the frost has begun.

~Stars

Winter Pear Jam with Honey

This past weekend found me foraging in the forest stealing pears away from the bears. Not to worry, the bears have had a good summer and for the most part have their tummies full and are getting a little sleepy with the imminent approach of winter.

Yes, I know, you probably didn't want to hear it. Winter is on its way. In fact, the past two days have seen the peaks of the mountains glistening with that white stuff.

But back to those well-fed bears, they are drawn by the sweet smell of ripening fruit, but then usually after one or two bites leave the fruit to rot on the ground. I was simply rescuing what was left before the bears spoil any more.

I got the fruit from the back yard of a friend who's property backs up against what was once one of many orchards in this region. This region at one time boasted some of the best fruit in the province and probably the country. The cherries here were particularly prized until the trees were hit with a blight that devastated the industry. But that is another story entirely.

In any case, this old overgrown orchard backs up against the mountain and the forest providing easy access not just to the bears, but also deer. There aren't many trees left and they are old, but the fruit is still fabulously sweet. With much of it turning quickly...pears don't last for long once they start to ripen, I made pear winter jam. It's actually more like a pear butter. The warmth of the ginger does one good in the winter. The concoction is actually really good completely raw, but of course would not last for long, so most of it got cooked up and sealed in jars.

Pear Jam
Ripe pears - 3 pounds, peeled and cored
Medium orange - 1 seeded
Medium lemon - 1 seeded
Crushed pineapple - 1 cup (canned in own juice)
Honey - 3/4 cup
Fresh ginger root - 1 inch, peeled and grated
Whole cloves - 6
Cinnamon sticks - 2, broken into 3 pieces
Salt - dash (optional)

Process fruit in food processor or blender. Place in a large pot, adding pineapple and juice. Add remaining ingredients and simmer until fruit is tender and mixture thick, stirring often. Skim and pour into hot, sterile pint jars, leaving 1/2 inch at top. Cap with hot, sterile lids. Process in boiling-water bath for 5 minutes after water returns to boil. If any jars fail to seal, refrigerate and use within ten days or freeze for later use.

Preserving

80 lbs of tomatoes - $18
sea salt - $0.98
lids - $7.77
jars - already had them
an evening of my time - priceless

Domination

An abuser only wields power over his victim as long as she agrees to comply with her silence

Spaghetti Western

The sun dances high in the sky as it beats out its last rays of summer heat. Our car slowly ambles into the sleepy little western Canadian town of Keremeos. Little do we know that the emphasis is on “Western,” and one never knows what one will encounter when setting foot in a “Western.” We round the corner and smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk tied up to a tree I find this absolute beauty. I call her Winnetou.

I quickly glance around expecting to see the swinging doors of a saloon just a few steps away. Despite the odd dreamlike quality of the horse, the parked cars and grocery store down the street assure me that I am still in the twenty-first century. Being the first on the scene, I snap a few pics and make friends with Winnetou. Shortly thereafter a few others begin to gather obviously as taken by the situation as I am. Eventually a drunken cowboy comes stumbling onto the scene to collect his horse.

He poses for a few photos hamming up his instant celebrity status. The local sheriff arrives and assures us that riding a horse drunk is not a criminal offense. He tells us that the horse knows the way back home better than the cowboy and just to make sure that we know, that the cowboy is totally harmless, even drunk. Eventually the cowboy saddles up and rides off into the sunset as I play all possible soundtracks in my head.

The Struggle

Break through the tyranny of the familiar. Shift your perception and open your mind to the unknown. Prepare to be amazed.

Gone Fishin'

Hecktor has been out fishing almost daily. He says that the fish flit and flitter and flash their shiny silver scales. They are just so vain and oblivious of their surroundings these days that each time he goes down for a quick dive he comes up with a mouthful of flopping fry. They don't even know what hit them. He doesn't like me getting too close though. Says I scare off the fish. Can you believe it? It's apparently bad luck having a female around while fishing. He obviously doesn't know know about the large salmon I caught, and the even larger one that snapped my rod clear in two. I know, it's always the same old story about the "big" one that got away. But sometimes that's just how life goes.

Cause and Effect

Well, what were you expecting? You just kept pushing and pushing. I was bound to fall off the cliff sooner or later.

Dance of Life

No time for posting today. Just a quick clip of life in its tragic but stunning beauty.

The Hired Help

Bentley has been after me for a formal introduction for quite some time now, so I figure I'd better oblige. Who knows what his humour would be like if I put it off for too much longer. So without further ado, I present Bentley, all bear, one hundred percent German mohair and glass eyes. Bentley, say hello, I'm sure that everyone is more than happy to make your acquaintance. If you somehow missed it, Bentley is a bellhop and if you ever stay chez moi, he will be more than happy to attend to your luggage. But really, he would rather shoot the breeze while slowly sipping coffee or better yet scotch.

Bentley is quite fond of Miss Maddie, which I am sure you all know is short for Madeline. He would love to parade her around for you all to admire, but she’s a little camera shy. In any case, she’s taken off for an afternoon of shopping with friends and will swing by Oso Negro on the way home for some coffee and cake. Yes, I know, it really is about time I do a post on the famous Oso Negro, and I’ll be right on it soon enough. In the meantime, I will leave you all for some friendly chitchat with Bentley. .

Observations

Mutti has been busy cleaning, cleaning, cleaning...purging, emotional cleansing, whatever you wish to call it. In the process, she has rediscovered some long since forgotten treasures tucked away quietly at the bottom of some drawer. Notice how in one year I've developed defined feet and hands. Yep, clubfoot was not a good look for me. It looks like my circulation has also improved significantly. I'm pretty sure that this was before the time of skin coloured crayons, but obviously I made do. So what sort of things do you have lying quietly at the bottom of your drawers?

Disconcerting Truth

Love itself threatens peace of mind...

The Sinking

Oh, for goodness sakes Otto, what are you going on about now? Would you get down off of that soap box. We have more pressing matters to deal with these days, you know. And quit staring off into the horizon. You make me nervous when you get that strange look in your eyes.

Earth Voices

by: Bliss Carman (1861-1929)

I

HEARD the spring wind whisper
Above the brushwood fire,
"The world is made forever
Of transport and desire.

"I am the breath of being,

The primal urge of things;

I am the whirl of star dust,

I am the lift of wings.

"I am the splendid impulse

That comes before the thought,

The joy and exaltation

Wherein the life is caught.

"Across the sleeping furrows

I call the buried seed,

And blade and bud and blossom

Awaken at my need.

"Within the dying ashes

I blow the sacred spark,

And make the hearts of lovers

To leap against the dark."

II

I heard the spring light whisper

Above the dancing stream,

"The world is made forever

In likeness of a dream.

"I am the law of planets,

I am the guide of man;

The evening and the morning

Are fashioned to my plan.

"I tint the dawn with crimson,

I tinge the sea with blue;

My track is in the desert,

My trail is in the dew.

"I paint the hills with color,

And in my magic dome

I light the star of evening

To steer the traveller home.

"Within the house of being,

I feed the lamp of truth

With tales of ancient wisdom

And prophecies of youth."

III

I heard the spring rain murmur

Above the roadside flower,

"The world is made forever

In melody and power.

"I keep the rhythmic measure

That marks the steps of time,

And all my toil is fashioned

To symmetry and rhyme.

"I plow the untilled upland,

I ripe the seeding grass,

And fill the leafy forest

With music as I pass.

"I hew the raw, rough granite

To loveliness of line,

And when my work is finished,

Behold, it is divine!

"I am the master-builder

In whom the ages trust.

I lift the lost perfection

To blossom from the dust."

IV

Then Earth to them made answer,

As with a slow refrain

Born of the blended voices

Of wind and sun and rain,

"This is the law of being

That links the threefold chain:

The life we give to beauty

Returns to us again."

Delusional Interludes

I shall ride the wisp of the wind over the mountains and far across the ocean to the echoes within your heart. I will softly whisper in your dreams and you will wake and wonder what it was that you had heard.

When Inuit Move South

Nuff said.

There's No Place Like Home

Many a voyage has carried me far from home and I have seen numerous interesting sights. The whispers of adventure secretly seduce me at my every turn. They continually pull at my heartstrings drawing me on. But in truth, adventure and excitement never lurk far from the streets of Nelson. Summer is a special time here. Festivals and celebrations abound and bring out the masses. This past Friday was no exception, in fact, it was double the pleasure with the launch of Art Walk and one of numerous Market Street Fests in full swing.

Every summer Nelson's Art Walk invites locals and visitors alike to take a stroll downtown and view the very best work of local artists and craftspeople. Local businesses host the artists and shops and boutiques become instant galleries. They put on splendid receptions, wine, cheese and other appies. Everyone mulls about, snacking while chatting with the best artistic talent in the area.

Meandering back out onto the main street, I am confronted with the city's undeniable bohemian undercurrent. It's impossible not to be drawn in. The crowds, the music, the food, the entertainment...it's all there. I happened upon a troop of belly dancers with the emphasis on belly, at least for the woman who was eight months pregnant. I half expected her water to break during the course of the performance.

And then the motley of a band...an odder collection of musicians thrown together one just couldn't find, I'm quite sure. There was the yahoo cowboy, hat and all, the two who looked like they had just stepped out of Barvaria, the one with the punkish style hair, another who was a frat boy I'm sure. How they found each other must be a story within itself. But boy could they play music. It made us all want to dance right along. For your viewing pleasure, the following video snippets will almost transport you there. Now close your eyes and click the heels of those ruby slippers together. There truly is no place like home, at least not if your home is Nelson.

When Push Comes to Shove

It matters not how long one lives, but how.

Fireworks

The day before last, nature gave us her own personal rendition of a symphony of fire. It had been a hot day with the mugginess mounting and reaching its peak by late afternoon. Then warm winds started rolling through the valleys with dark, ominous clouds dominating the skies, a sure sign that convection currents were at play.

Not long after, with darkened skies, the thunder started rolling and rumbling its way through the valley. It didn't take long for the storm to follow. I caught a couple pictures of the lightning striking the top of the mountain and in two instances flames and smoke roared up immediately. Luckily the rain seemed to be enough to quench the fires.

The choppers were flying about the next day scoping the area for any flames that still might be quietly smoldering, but we seem to be okay. It's still early in the season and we've had a cool and wet spring. Still, it all made for a good show and cooled off everything nicely.

I AM Canadian!

Lots of excitement here on Canada Day in Nelson and Lake Side Park is definitely the place to be. The crowds came out en masse and there was vibrating activity for all...food; face painting; marionettes; clowns; bubbles; bands and music (of all sorts); games; dancing; and good old mulling about. Of course we mustn't forget the fireworks which are on the agenda for this evening. Another classic Nelson celebration. Check out the photos.






Happy Birthday Canada!!!

Quirkiness

I’m horribly late in responding to this one, but haven’t had a moment’s free time in about the past two weeks. In any case, well over two weeks ago Pinks tagged me challenging me to list 6 unspectacular quirks. Well, first off, I would like to know how quirks can be unspectacular. I mean, if they were just plain boring, then the quirkiness would all but dissipate, right? Doesn’t the very word quirky suggest something at least mildly interesting or amusing? Well, I’m not really sure that these things are quirky, but here we go:

1. I keep all my coins in film canisters organized from largest to smallest coins (largest being on the bottom). I can’t stand coins just clanking at the bottom of my purse and me having to dig around for them when I need them. I regularly receive comments from store on this particular “quirk.” In fact, just the other day a store clerk exclaimed, “OMG, that’s so cool! Can I see that again? We need more people like you in this world.” I have a feeling the “like you” meant slightly obsessive compulsive organizational freak.
2. I have had issues with public toilets for as long as I can remember. Even as a child, I hated public restrooms and often refused to “sit” on the seat. In fact, I’d rather pee behind a tree than sit on a public toilet. I wouldn’t say I’m germ-o-phobic, but perhaps I am, but seeing as I don’t know who’s sat on a public toilet or when it’s last been cleaned I’d rather not take my chances. Traveling lots, of course, just makes me more set and determined in my ways, especially after trips to places like China. In fact, during my China trip I also added seeing how long I could hold my breath while in a public restroom. Yes, those trips were as quick as I could manage. Thank goodness I’ve been blessed with a strong bladder and can make it through almost any train trip without using the toilets for the duration of the trip. For those of you who haven’t had the pleasure, train toilets are the worst.
3. When my stomach feels upset, I like to eat soft poached eggs on toast covered in milk (or cream) lightly salted. This goes back to my childhood, and yes, I know, eggs and cream are supposed to be difficult to digest, but for some reason, I find this incredibly soothing and usually it puts my stomach to rest.
4. I have an uncanny ability to know things before they happen, or perhaps it’s an ability to read people. Here are just a few examples: I once had a premonition that the company I was working for was in the process of being sold to another company and that they were going to announce it the following day. I was so sure that I even went so far as to call my administrative assistant in Toronto (I was working out of a home office in Vancouver, but there were those that worked at the head office in Toronto) explain my suspicions and tell her to erase any personal files on her computer and to take home any personal items that evening (sometimes when these things happen, corporations won’t give you much more than a half hour to pack up your things and be out of there if they’re not keeping you). Sure enough, the next day it happened. She phoned me back absolutely stunned, but luckily she had followed my advice. Another time I was having lunch with a colleague. In the middle of the conversation I stopped, looked at her and said “OMG, Monica, you’re pregnant!” Her face blanched as it morphed into shock and disbelief. She asked me how I knew and told me that she had only just had it confirmed the previous day and hadn’t even told her parents yet. I don’t know, I can’t explain what happened, I just knew. There are countless other examples I could give, but you get the idea.
5. I love languages. I love listening to languages and could listen for hours (well, at least one hour) even if I don’t understand a word. I make up words and play with language…almost all the time. As a child I spoke an invented language with my sister and used to translate for my parents. (My sister had hearing difficulties until about the age of three when the doctors inserted tubes in her ears, and my parents had difficulty understanding her, but my other sister and I seemed to have no difficulty in communicating with her.) Aside from that, I have been known to name my cars or give my pets nicknames (as they already have names). I talk to myself (sometimes), or more often to my cat in multiple languages. She doesn’t really care which language I use as long as I feed her.
6. I collect seashells whenever I’m at the ocean. Is that quirky? I’m really not sure, but I love seashells. They are tiny little treasures that I can’t resist picking up, even if I put them down somewhere else. Once I made the mistake of telling a group of grade 1’s that “Madame loves seashells,” and the next day I received a lovely bag full. I guess I had forgotten to mention that half the pleasure is finding them in the sand as I walk along the beach.

Whew!!! That’s six. I’m sure there are oodles more, but that’s good for the moment. Now for tagging…. Is anybody interested? I'll leave it open and if you decide to bite, let me know. I would love to know what quirks the rest of you have.

The Inevitable

If you don't go to the adventure, it comes to you.

(Pst, Pinks, if you're wondering where your meme is...it's on its way.)

What Killed Die Katze

Curiosity becomes a heavy, heavy load, too heavy to hold, too heavy to hold. Do you really want to know? How much can you bear? Do you really want to know? How will you use what you find out? It will eventually all spill out. Curiosity becomes a heavy, heavy load.

Björn

Meet Björn. Isn't he an absolute sweetie? He was evidently quite busy foraging for food. One gets just a tad hungry and perhaps a little cranky after an entire winter of fasting and doing nothing much other than on and off napping in one's den. And the spring has been so slow in coming this year, but things are looking up and the sun is shining and it makes one feel like having a little snack. And I suppose some of you are wondering about the name. Björn is a good Scandinavian name of old Norse origin meaning none other than "bear." Most appropriate, don't you think? I did, for a moment consider naming him Benno after a much loved uncle (Benno also contains the element bear), but this time my Norwegian side won out.
And now for my experiment... Do you recognize the following? I spent three days in the woods last week and the forest was absolutely rife with these plants ... wild strawberries!!! Well, I have so many wild plants growing in my yard anyway, that I thought why not strawberries. So I just dug up a number of these plants and transplanted them into my own little garden. I don't know if they'll bear fruit this year, but I'll let you know how they fare as time goes on.

Mary Mary Quite Contrary

Very well, thank you. My garden has been absolutely loving this rain interspersed with bursts of sunny heat. Although I would love for it to be just a tad warmer, my garden thinks this weather is just perfect.

My Rhodo is in full bloom. The blossoms sport a soft pink which turn to an almost snowy white once they're fully opened.

The Chives are blooming wildly...and although I probably shouldn't be letting them go to seed so quickly, they look so lovely that I can't bare to pluck off the purple blossoms.

The following is a parade of Pansies that are coming up just about everywhere. Somehow I even have a slew of tiny delicate wild ones that have somehow seeded themselves. They are so cheery that I am more than happy to let them do their own thing.

The Iris stands proudly surveying the whole yard. You don't see it in this picture, but there is actually a little bee seeking shelter from the rain inside its petals.

My garden sings in the rain. How about yours?

Washed Up

The sea swallows me with her ancient rhythms luring me to her watery depths while the gruff wind's howling loudly echoes in despair. Suddenly she retreats leaving me washed up, abandoned on a lonely beach.