Cottage Bouquet

 When we arrived at the cottage this year, a lovely bouquet of wild flowers greeted us. Thanks S and S!

As the light shifted swiftly in the late afternoon, I lost myself in taking photographs. The closer I got, the more magical it was. I was lost in detail... in a good way!

Eight Days on the Lake = Three Words: Too Much Happiness

I have so many years of photographs, I thought this year I'd just edit some of the video I took. Here you go - there's even seven seconds of me, slinking out from behind the camera for a change.

Canada's cottage country... can't be beat.

Pause

Okay, everyone needs to stop talking about the endless winter.

Let's instead turn moments into celebrations.

What was I celebrating?

Not burning the candle at both ends and waking up under the world's best-loved duvet.

How did I celebrate?

Breakfast in bed. Topped with figs. In a martini glass.

In an hour, I'll light all the candles, turn off the electrics, and day dream through Earth Hour.

A Few Grateful Moments

~ I sat for a long time recently, in a sort of dream, my fingers idly stroking the wilting creamy petals of a vase of roses.

~ A while ago I slipped in a massive and ungraceful fashion on a large, invisible puddle in the supermarket. I literally went flying and came down - bang! - on my right hip. I had a couple of bruises and waited with bated breath for my body to start screaming in pain the next day, or the next. It never happened. I'm seriously grateful for still being pretty bouncy.

~ While shopping with my mum, we saw a stroller out of which peeked a pair of very tiny baby feet. Not so tiny as to be newborn with its shrivelled, wrinkly pinkness; these feet were probably a month old, with that pillowy chubbiness, yet still very small. At the end of those tiny pin-cushion puffy feet were teeny tiny toes, wiggling in slow motion, as though being stirred by a gentle breeze. Each toe was like a perfect small pearl. I recalled this hysterical Onion feature, as we both remarked on how nibblable those little toes were.

~ I was called back for a re-do of my first mammogram ever. Gulp. I thought of this clip. I had the re-do, then I had to wait for an ultrasound. I was told that the results would be sent to my gyno in a few days. But after my prolonged ultrasound, the technician asked me to wait while she showed the results to a doctor. I lay there ready for the worst. I lay there a long time, bargaining with God and making plans for the inevitable. Then I was told... I WAS OK!!! I felt a little... like this. Given my family history, cancer is likely to get me at some point... but not just yet!

~ Yellow leaves are falling everywhere, and the city is aglow with them

~ A year of neighbourhood reconstruction (mainly streets and sidewalks) and the noise of rattling windows at home and at work isn't over yet, but when it is - wow, everything will look fantastic! We have the PanAm games to thank for this... Toronto wants to look its best and as my 'hood is very near the athletes new accommodations, my neighbours and I are benefitting. So are the paving contractors!

In the Midst of the Frustration...

... of waiting for spring, of yearning for sun, of too much work and too much work outside of work, and - yes - too much play...

... there was a silence at home this evening. I sat at my computer finally catching up on some personal e-mails, and, as I revelled in quiet stillness, I detected the gentle hooting of a mourning dove. I've missed that sound all winter. That sweet sound accompanied my softly clacking keyboard for about half an hour.

This reminds me of what's important, but then it makes me ponder the things I do that aren't. I need to think about this, except... I don't have time. People are crazy. Or maybe it's just me.

So grateful for bird song.

How did I Miss Your Fifth Birthday?!

But I did.... well, Happy Sixth Birthday, little blog! I've enjoyed it so much... here's to the next six. And thank you to the readers (more than I would have expected, and so far ranging in our beautiful world) and especially the commenters (very rare, very valued).

Here's to the next six!

Serene Sunday

Handel... oboe... soup... snow... sunshine... it's a beautiful day. Gratitude abounds. I'm reminded of my Buddhist saying, which I say each morning. I hope you don't find it morbid. I don't.

Today might be the day I die. Today is a good day to be alive.

Sweet November

I'm not looking forward to winter. I wasn't looking forward to November. But... strangely, as it draws to a close, I'm enjoying this dark, in-between time of year. I'm grateful for evergreens, giving colour to otherwise naked parks and walkways. The sky has been more blue of late, even as the days get shorter.

Tonight I was headed to hear a concert by a young singer, but I got caught up between two appointments and a late, after-hours pick up for work. So I missed the concert and walked home from the streetcar, my eyes burning with too much computer work and too much tiredness. The snowflakes started falling and I noted the twinkly lights in many store fronts. I realized that Christmas is four weeks yesterday, but I have been working so hard I had hardly noticed the sudden onslaught of holiday decorations and songs in the shops.

I saw the flakes fall on my black pea jacket as I walked the quiet streets. It was getting late and I wasn't - for once - in the mood to cook for myself from scratch. I picked up a shawarma at my favourite local, where the smiles are as warm as their yummy hot sauce.

At home I got into my dressing gown, put on my warm slippers and collapsed in my big red chair. I was melancholy and happy all at once. After I'd eaten my shawarma I sat in my little anteroom, the twinkly lights were on, and I played my ukulele. What a sight I must have made.

I've never cared much for November before, and I've missed most of it this year, but still, it's pretty sweet.

Quote of the Day

"Seldom, very seldom does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken."

Jane Austen, Emma

Here's a little disclosure... I'm blogging remotely from a train en route to Montreal for a weekend of much-needed pleasure and relaxation. And I've just started reading The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Joy Fowler.

Remembering

I took these pictures in New York, last June, just by Central Park.

Cottage: Grateful for the Week that Was

~ Stargazing at last. In the summer there are too many mosquitoes at night. But not in September. So we lay on the dock, cushions below, a blanket of stars above (some shooting)... the Milky Way... the call of the loon. I didn't find Corona Borealis this time

~ Deer on the lawn, darting away, their lovely white bottoms bouncing

~ Campfires; poking at the fire; cooking food on the fire, sometimes... in the fire

~ Warm, sometimes hot days, hot enough to swim... just. Cool, sometimes cold nights under duvets... heaven.

~ Heart-stopping sunsets, with Vs of geese flying across them, honking... straight out of central casting

~ Writing the tandem tale: four nutjobs trying to manouveur one story, like four hands on a pen, all pulling it in different directions across the page. Vampires, opera directors, fjords and sex. A potent combination. An excerpt:

"Licking her pale lips, she relished the thought of feeding once more. The sun had set over Cadiz. She pushed the lid of the coffin open, and raised herself up, as beautiful as she had been that first night on the water in the frigid fjord. Stepping across the carpet-lined crypt, she pushed at the lid of another magnificent coffin. It revealed the craggy profile and powerful form of… Captain Kurt Johanssen."

~ Thanks again, fellow nutjobs, for the company, the amazing food, and the many laughs!

And, of course, photographs will follow. Hope you hang in there!

Day-Tripping with the Parentals

This was a treat - a day trip with my parental units!

We visited Port Perry, about an hour and a half north east of Toronto, on the shores of the shallow Lake Scugog. We took a two-hour cruise (they actually had the Gilligan's Island theme music as background music!). We shopped, as the mainstreet is very conducive to this sort of behaviour. I bought a silver ring (I love the bobbles), and a single-wound beaded bracelet, which was about $12. Not much more than I would have spent to make it.

We came home through the sideroads in the low-afternoon light: magic hour.

Some Cottage Pictures

The Last few Days of Vacation

Vacation has been wonderful.

I went north (plenty of posts about that coming up!)

I spent time in my study...

















I saw friends and was reminded that Trattoria Nervosa has the best grilled calamari in Toronto: that little taste of char, and then meltingly slippery and redolent of ocean. It's not on the menu, but they'll make it for you...





















I saw a pile of movies (see other posts)...

And for my back to school back to work treat, a new mug for my desk from Anthropologie in my favourite blues and greens...
 

In Which the Film Student I Never was gets Indulged

I've already been teased that I'm in my Ingmar Bergman phase. Well, this video is moody and gentle, and takes me back to that happy place I always find in the Kawarthas.

As for the music, I first listened to the Schindler's List soundtrack while driving through Muskoka (remember that, Dave?) and so the connection is strong for me. I can imagine it might not work for others.

Thank you, Herren Bach and Quasthoff

I updated my post about the visit to Montreal, to include the entire repertoire of the last night of the vocal competition.

And, in memory of that, have been listening to the sublime Thomas Quasthoff singing from The St. Matthew Passion. I'm sorry that such a brilliant singer has had to retire. He has battled ill health since birth, but has handled his challenges with great grace. Born only five years before me, his mother was prescribed Thalidomide. My mother told me recently that her doctor prescribed it to her while pregnant with me, but instinct told her to take nothing when she was expecting me, not even an aspirin. How grateful am I?


 

Joseph of Arimathea has claimed Jesus's body and prepares to place it in the tomb.

Mache dich, mein Herze, rein,
Ich will Jesum selbst begraben.
Denn er soll nunmehr in mir
Für und für
Seine süße Ruhe haben.
Welt, geh aus, laß Jesum ein!

Make thyself, my heart, now pure,
I myself would Jesus bury.
For he shall henceforth in me
More and more
Find in sweet repose his dwelling.
World, depart, let Jesus in!

June Trip: Food

I shopped, I ate, I ran. I didn't photograph all the food, but here's some of it. I ate a late lunch at Becco, one of the wonderful Lidia's restaurants, having been specifically instructed (by my friend with the sunken living-room) to have her "Symphony of Pasta." I did. It was... symphonic, especially the wild mushroom ravioli in the truffle/sage butter. I ate the best empanada ever at Ruben's, and I will make sure to go back there next time I visit NYC. I had the sweetest man make an effort to zest some lemon on my cream cheese/smoked salmon bagel, because I love it that way, and because Murray's Bagels are my new favourites. I had breakfast one day at Le Pain Quotidient, because I needed a homey brekkie, and there it was, with plain yoghurt, berries, soft boiled eggs and peppermint tea. I nearly teared up, it was so perfect.

Have I said it yet? I love NY.