Nature Has Us Beat

I have been observing my cats lately and must say that the boys (who are 15 years old) are becoming more verbal and also crankier. Thumper in particular meows all day long, telling tales about how mean Cherie is and how selfish Kitsy is. Really?  And at night they snuggle up together at the foot of my bed and are good buddies again!

It amazes me how bees have this whole, perfect community of existence. No fighting with each other, all just cooperating to keep their mighty queen alive and producing.

And The Girls, well, they can peck at each other the odd time but basically the go out roaming in the grass looking for seeds and bugs and just frolicking like little kids. They are curious about everything and when they hear our voices chatting on the pergola deck they wandering around and twist their necks to look up at us and peep “what’s up, eh?”

Then there are all the little grey birds that swoop down in the chicken coop, picking up seeds and food and pretending that they aren’t thieves. Oh no, not they! Meanwhile the magpies brazenly make their presence known and are not ashamed to admit to their own level of thievery! Bold as brass, they are!

Nature functions, always true to themselves.

Freezing Weather Go Away!

Oh my goodness but I am getting awfully tired of this weather! It’s been more than three weeks of this grueling, cold weather and my poor hens are looking at me in consternation “what is up with this being locked in”?  I think that is the hardest part for me, feeling sorry that the hens cannot possibly venture out in this weather but also the fact that I am hauling so much water out to them because even in the chicken coop it is freezing up the water. I haul the water, extra seed and as much greens as I can carry for the poor girls.

If it wasn’t for the hens I wouldn’t care half so much but there it is; I am like my great grandmother Ane Kristine who actually would wipe her geese’s beaks for them. I am just a really strong nature lover!

I have been busy with my card making and if my camera would cooperate more (or I would be more diligent in learning its intricacies) I would post some of the examples – we will see what happens in the next day on that score. Right now I am on my way out to the back sunroom to do some more creative work. It certainly helps to have this hobby not only in this horrid weather but to keep my mind off my symptoms.

I’m not a hypochondriac but there is no getting away from it; every twinge I feel in my back I think “was that a muscle spasm or the tumour?” I confess, it is hard to deal with but I continue to stay positive and optimistic because the alternative does not bear thinking about!

Mom is making ølebrød which is a breakfast style porridge made out of dark Danish ryebread. It’s a favorite of mine and she is using real non-alcoholic øl (ale). That will be our brunch today, just what the doctor ordered for this weather. And later I think I will take out “On the Shores of Silver Lake” to read since I’ve already read “The Long Winter” this winter!

Funny Nature

When Mom or I walk across the back hallway we find the chickens rushing towards the top end of their yard and they congregate in the corner waiting for us to come out and give them treats.  They are ever hopeful.  When they realize we aren’t going outdoors they slowly go back to pecking for bugs, grass and other appetizing things in nature.

Our other “girls”, the bees hum around the last of the petunias, docile and simply minding their own business.  They are quite different in nature from wasps or even bumble bees and will only sting as a last resort.  So far we haven’t had to deal with that.  They are small and quite pretty.  It’s a pleasure to watch them go from flower to flower searching for pollen or nectar.

After much fighting our little female cat Kitsy seems to have mellowed the boys down somewhat.  They still enjoy snarling at each other but there hasn’t been a cat fight in several months so we are hoping that peace will reign over the winter.  We are not entirely optimistic enough to allow Kitsy free ranging during the night, she resides in the sunroom in her own cozy little apartment bed.

Then we have one of Mom’s favorites, the magpies.  She calls them her Maggie-doodles and she really spoils them.  Frequently if I go to the fridge for a midnight snack I will discover that the food is gone, having been thrown to the magpies.  I resign myself to Mom’s soft devotion to those pesky scavengers but truth be told, I can’t really be too harsh. 

The animal world is full of humour and action and we are lucky enough to have the time to observe and enjoy.  How lucky is that?

Buzz, Chirp & Meow

My goodness but it has been an eventful week on the farm.  On Monday I got called out to a bee keeping event, inspecting an apiary of 24 hives and discovering many dead ones, a few weak ones and only a couple of healthy hives.  I looked at eggs, capped brood, capped honey, honey in the comb as well as identifying the queen in various hives.  One of the most exciting things was observing pollen on the legs of some of the workers who got disturbed enough in the hive to decide to take a little recognizant trip into the trees and came back loaded with the pollen.  How cute was that?  So cute!

Tuesday my 75 day old chicks arrived intact but sadly I had one loss in my batch of 26 and brother John also had a loss the next day in his 50.  Thank goodness for the spares but I am very impressed with Miller Hatcheries quality.  The chicks are thriving and on this, day 4, they have already started to sprout feathers on their wings.  Listening as I enter the coop I can first hear them chirping and then I hear there itsy bitsy little feet speed across the floor because they sense I am coming.  They scurry to the wall, away from the heat lamp and wait for the door to open.  Can I repeat myself?  So cute! 

Thursday morning I went to make my breakfast but as always I first checked on the little stray cat I have been harbouring due to the fact that (1) she is adorable (2) excessively friendly and (3) terribly knocked up (yes as in kittens on the way).  Last night they arrived and poor little Kitsy peeked out from her hidey hole (which she had never used before) and I knew before I heard the mewling that the babies had arrived.  Poor Kitsy was being a good mother but at her own expense; she was a mess.  She hasn’t figured out how to multitask so she was not cleaned up and let me tell you something – do not, I repeat, do not attempt to clean up a mother cat by spraying them with the kitchen sink spray hose.  I had to explain my lacerated body to the doctor this morning when I went for my physical as I looked like something out of The Walking Dead.  Drawing out the kittens later I thought they were, wait for it, so cute!

What will tomorrow bring?  Peace of mind I do hope as this has been too much for this retiree’s old heart!

 

 

 

 

Nature Files

I was looking out my window this morning and was suddenly delighted by a flurry of partridge scooting across the road and then into my shrubbery.  Naturally I wondered “partridge, or pheasant” so I had to dip into the bird book I gave my mother some years ago to verify what I was actually seeing.

During the winter it is really amazing to see how many birds stay in these northern parts and survive the cold.  There are rules for feeding birds; either you do not feed them at all or you must be consistent with the feed.  Logical enough, it simply requires keeping ahead of the game in the supply department.  I’ve been very pleased to discover bargain prices at Costco for wild bird seed as it is nearly 3 times less than at the bulk store.  Go figure.

We see a number of small brown or grey birds; sparrows, snow bunting or chickadees, we aren’t quite sure yet which they are.  When looking in the book it seems obvious yet flicking around in the branches of the pine tree it is very hard to get a good look at the colouring to really make an identification (I am terribly near sighted).  It is my ambition this winter to nail down my small birds so that I can honestly call myself a bird watcher.

It’s much easier to identify the bigger birds, the magpie, the crow, the starlings, owls and hawks.  My brother saw a huge bald eagle out at his place the other day.  He heard this incredible whirring sound as he got into his truck and looking around he saw the eagle swooping down by the truck as it went for the sparrows nearby.  The wing span was over 6 feet.  I’ve never seen one close but I have seen snowy owls, in fact for many years I have had a couple nesting in my yard.  They can be quite large, camouflage very well in the old poplar trees and can give you a start when they swoosh away as you approach unaware of their presence.

The magpies are incredibly friendly scavengers.  They watch the house diligently, waiting for either Mom or I to go out to the compost pile with pickings for them.  They seem to have discovered that I am not much of a giver while Mom goes out at least once a day with a special treat just for them.  No sooner has she gone back in the house than the swoop down on the bread and potato peelings she has left under the scotch pine.  Since I got my chickens, though, I have become more interesting to them.  They wait for me to return to the house and then they venture into the Henriettas domain to see if they can steal some of the wild seed strewn about.  At first the chickens took supreme exception to their presence and charged at them in outrage but gradually those impertinent magpies have made their way back into the pen to pick away at the far corners.  Then Hermione or Fredericka will spot them and away they go!

It might be winter but there is still plenty of natural entertainment outdoors.

Henrietta Comes Home

The chicken palace is now ready for the hens and I am anxiously awaiting their arrival from daycare.  They are now 6 weeks old and ready to come home to Mama.  I am worrying about them being stuffed into card board boxes and being driven 30 miles to their new abode.  Will they suffocate?  Will they fight with each other and peck each other’s eyes out?  Can we get them into the house without their escaping?

Last night I made John double check and screw in more screws along the footboards while I told him fervently that there WERE weasels in the neighbourhood.  It’s my long held belief that weasels can get into the tiniest crack and I still have the scene in my head when I came home to find my poor hens lying helter skelter across the backyard, flat as pancakes.  There’s a legend in these parts about vampire sucking weasels and perhaps I did have a little bit to do with that story.  The truth is quite simple, I had long been familiar with dead chickens as caused by the ravages of neighbouring dogs.  Those scenes involved chickens lying with their feet up in the air, or the butts turned up, necks askew, and feathers flying everywhere.

The summer morning when I returned from work to discover chickens lying like deflated rubber ducks, much as one sees in a cartoon was a shock I shall not soon forget.  There were 3 or 4 of them lying in the grass and there was no sign that a dog had been around.  The rest of the chickens were in the henhouse and looked as though they had experienced a severe shock themselves.  I wish I could say that there were little droplets of blood along their neck but truth must enter in . . . there was nothing to indicate what had caused the poor chicks deaths.

It was a car salesman who came up with the story of the vampire sucking weasel and I just went with it.  What can I say, it was a good story and being a car salesman, he sold me.   J

Hooting Owls and CaaCaaing Crows

Retiring Baby Boomers have taken up bird watching in a big way.  This I have been told.  While usually I like to buck the trend this is one hobby I seem to be developing rapidly and it is with a real thrill that I can tell you I now know that I have a supsucker woodpecker in my yard.  All these years I have been shaking in my boots, afraid that I was going to get punished to the fullest extent of the law because I thought I had a pine tree with that horrid pest, the pine beetle.  I had that tree from a mere little sucker twig and now it waves bravely well above my roof line and I was terrified that I had somehow gotten the disease.  What a relief to discover that the signs on the tree are evidence of a supsucker; while not good it is not going to kill the tree and better yet, it won’t destroy other trees.

The other day I was startled while brushing my teeth in seeing a huge goose in  my mirror.  Looking outdoors i discovered that I currently have a nesting pair in my yard, thanks to my fishpond and Mom putting lots of delectable waste in the compost pile.  They were enjoying the leftover corn on the cob that morning.  Now I just have to worry about them biting my butt when they get territorial.  I can picture Mom and I running towards the house with our hands protecting those ample rear ends.  What a way to get a workout.

I have a wide range of birds around my place, magpies, crows, woodpeckers, sparrows, swallows, brown thrasher, flickers, pheasants, partridge, geese, ducks, owls, hawks, finches of various kinds, yellow headed blackbird, grackles, and the ever present robin.  Last year we were thrilled to see a hummingbird in our bougainvillea vine and I understand from my sister and Mom that it returned this spring.  What I have yet to see is a blue bird.  A winter project for my brother will be to build me some blue bird houses that we can set up along our fence line next spring. 

Appreciating nature by sharing it with birds is priceless.  Waking up to bird song is one of my favorite summer pleasures. 

My cup runneth over.

Mother Nature's Powerful Ways

I’m watching the trees wildly swaying in the Chinook winds this morning and wondering if there is enough sap in them to keep from snapping off.  I remember my father’s words “nature is cruel but nature is true”.  I think the most astounding show of nature’s power came closest to home for me was last year’s flood here in Alberta.  Watching the water moving swiftly across acres of fields and approaching the highway as I drove past High River shocked me profoundly.  The next morning when I watched the news and saw the live coverage not only of High River but of Calgary I had no words to express my shock and amazement.  I’ve seen tremendous snows, even blizzards, but nothing compared to the power of that water.

Over the last couple of weeks I have been planting seeds to start off my summer garden and here I witness another of Mother Nature’s powerful ways.  I will be the first to admit that I was not born with a green thumb so when I witness successful germination of seeds I am wildly excited.  There is something amazing at watching the first signs of a green plant coming out of the soil and growing taller, unfolding it’s little leaf or stem.  Then moving on to the pots that have overwintered in the sunroom and seeing life come back makes me acknowledge that it’s worth while having a messy room for 6 months if it means savings on some of the bigger plants.

It’s the beginning of March and spring is not far away.  This year I am hoping southern Alberta actually gets a spring because for the last several years we’ve had a kind of extended winter and a dullish sort of summer.  My hope is that the seven year cycle is upon us and we now have some really good years of gardening ahead of us.   I’ve been watching a lot of gardening shows lately and yesterday I was really inspired by a fabulous container gardening program. 

Get me my uniform!  [Kelly’s Heroes]

Mother Nature, are you listening?

February Blues

It’s our Family Day today and instead of feeling cheerful I feel tired every time I look out of the window and see the grey skies, patches of snow and vibrating branches which mean the wind is up.  The solution is to close the blinds, turn on all the lights and start baking!  Even my critters are running back inside after sticking their noses out in the frosty air.  I know we are supposed to have an early spring and that this is just a tiny blip but for the moment it feels like we are back in November.

       Now we have all heard of solutions to pull us out of the doldrums and that is exactly what I have done; I hopped on my treadmill and walked for half an hour at a good, rapid pace and it’s true I do feel energized.  But looking at greyness can turn anyone bleak if you look at it long enough.  Hence the “closing the blinds” solution.  But to ensure that it is a true solution the inside needs to look cheerful, homey and welcoming which at the moment my house does not (you will remember I am still in renovation mode that includes losing storage).  However, I chose to look past the piles of books, pillows, pictures and other paraphernalia to see the comforts of home.  It helps a great deal to have a mother who can bake up a storm and serve tea or coffee at the drop of a hat.

       This week we had a lunch and learn topic on stress and the question was asked how can one turn a pessimist into an optimist.  The speaker said it was difficult but it could be done, if the pessimist wanted to make the changes.  I think it is as hard to change one’s outlook as it is to change one’s exercise habits but if you are willing to try, you can do it.  My mother is a bit of a pessimist and it is a challenge for me to get her to look at things from a different point of view but I persevere.  I’m an optimist and I am also the type who does not give up easily, so Mom’s new outlook on life is a challenge I will take on.  As the speaker also said, it’s good to have constant interests to keep each day exciting and new.

       Well spring is around the corner and until it bursts upon us I will be renovating my house and my mother.  Life is good.

Lazarus & Maggie

My father had a penchant for naming his pets with unusual names.  His childhood cat was named Stalin for no apparent reason.  Later when he moved out to the farm there was a whole family of barn cats but the dominant male was a huge black beast that Dad named Lowenstoff, who knows why.  The last cat he named was a black ragamuffin of a cat with long black hair that would come off in huge tuffs, trailing behind him like a black mummy, hence he became known as Lazarus.  Lazarus was aptly named because he would wander off the farm for weeks at a time and the family would assume that he was dead, only to find him on the deck waiting for his breakfast one bright morning.

       Lazarus was the sole survivor of the barn cats and had to his meals on the back deck of the house in solitary style.  It wasn’t long, however, before the magpies discovered the plate of food and after Lazarus had finished his meal they would come down and eat up the rest.  Lazarus would watch them tolerantly and then wander off to hunt gophers.  The magpies eventually became so aggressive that they would peck on the tin plate if the food wasn’t put out at supper time.  My mother would go and put out a bit of cat food for them even if Lazarus wasn’t around.

       Then one day my mother saw a most amazing scene at the edge of their place.  Lazarus had been cornered by a coyote on the very edge of the cliff and he was either facing the coyote or it would be over the cliff into the creek below.  The coyote was moving closer and closer when suddenly several magpies came swarming down and began attacking the coyote.  They continued to swoop down, pecking at the hunter until eventually he turned tail and ran.  Mom firmly believes that they realized that Lazarus had been their friend and they protected that friend.

       Lazarus lived another day!

Brisk Winter Walk

Walking in the brisk winter air is very energizing although it takes as much energy to push oneself off the couch as it does to take the exercise.  This morning there was wonderful hoar frost on the trees, bushes and grasses making for glorious pictures. As we walked Mom and I discussed the nature of creativity and what a pity there weren’t more opportunities for creative people to make a living out of their art.  On second thought, is it necessary to gain filthy lucre from art? 

       It’s fun to capture moments in nature that won’t be created again in that exact same way but sometimes it’s as much fun to simply watch the changing colours of a sunrise or sunset.  When taking pictures I find myself stopping in the middle of a session so that I can remind myself to see with my real eyes and not through the lens what is playing out on that gigantic canvas called the universe.  I took lots of pictures of Niagara Falls this fall but I also took lots of time to be still and just watching the rushing roaring water spill over the edge creating full on rainbows of colour.  Walking with Mom today we stopped and stared up under the trees so we could see the nests upside down causing a rush of pheasants to fling up into the sky.  We made the long walk to the graveyard and took pictures of those resting in peace grave markers. 

       Tramping back we faced the wind which had picked up and was nipping away at our cheeks.  At one point Mom said that my cheeks were very red and then she said philosophically “at least they aren’t purple” which made me laugh and warmed us both up.  We stamped our boots off as we entered the house and I headed for the office while Mom headed to her room “to stretch out”.  Perfect morning walk.

And a Hunting We Shall Go

So the annual invasion from the city has begun.  Driving home this evening I saw first one person out in the road while his car was sitting on the other side of the road.  Not too suspicious as the house on that side was for sale.  But as I approached my own home I saw a gold van driving very slowly which was unusual.  Then when he crossed the intersection he paused in front of my house and that was definitely suspicious because it clearly is identified.  Immediately I thought Hunter.

       The problem with hunters is that many of them will trespass on private property to roust out the birds.  If there is a posting that says either No Trespassing or No Hunting, they tear them down.  I know this because it’s happened at my place.  I know they’ve been torn down because I’ve hammered them in securely myself.  I no longer invest in signs.  Instead I rely on Harold and Arnold as well as a few other tools at my disposal.  (With three brothers there is no end to the shenanigans they came up with in their younger days.  I remember them well and have come up with some strategies that help.  To reveal more would be to alert the world ahead of time.)

       Once in a while you will get a respectful hunter who approaches the house and asks permission to “beat the bushes”.  The first time that happened to my brother he had no idea what he was asking since we’d just moved out from the city ourselves.  I know there are some valid reasons for hunting but I still feel sorry for the creatures, even if they are eating my evergreen trees or apples.  They have to survive too.

       Am I a bleeding heart or just humane?

Nature Comes Calling

I got out of my car last night and as I straightened my aching bones I looked up into first one, and then I realized 2, pair of doe eyes.  Literally.  Doe and fawn were poised under the apple tree and I cursed for the millionth time because I didn’t have my camera around my neck.  We all stood frozen for nearly a minute, perhaps longer.  I said Hello, and still they stood still, just watching me.  Then very slowly the turned and walked gracefully into the back 40.

       I took a quick scan of the apple tree which was not damaged and then put my car in the garage.  I asked Mom if she’d been watching the deer and she said they had been around the house all day long, back and forth between the front yard and the apple tree in the back.  I was so glad that we hadn’t plucked the last of the apples off the tree so the deer were able to enjoy our remains.  But now we are concerned because hunting season will soon be here and despite posting signs hunters will cross into the yard, after tearing down the signs.  While I have never felt a bullet whistle past me I have been startled out of my mind by an explosion close to me, the explosion being the gun going off.  Normally guns don’t make that loud of a sound but whatever gun this hunter was using sounded like a powerful shotgun.  Something Rambo would be trouncing around with.

       We also have a large flock of pheasants roosting in our bushes this year.  They are so lovely to watch as they strut across the yard seemingly oblivious to anything but their own interests.  And soon they will be under attack also.  Poor things.

Kim's Game

When I was a girl guide we went hiking with our troup leader who introduced us to the game called Kim’s Game based on the character from  Rudyard Kipling book.  Often when I go for my nature walk I think about that time and will play the game just with myself as I did this morning.  There was no breeze so it was nice as it was also quite crisp outside and my ears are sensitive to cold. 

Right off the bat, just as I passed the swamp across from the house I saw a flock of geese take off as they heard my footsteps.  One.  Only a few more steps and I discovered a lone ragweed blooming yellow as though it hadn’t got the notice that it was fall not summertime.  Two.  The sun was beaming through the trees and hit directly in my eye so I was squinting and needed to turn my head westward.  There was a lot of dirty brown withered field but I didn’t care to count that as part of my game.  Then my eyes lit on the new house that was built last year near the golf course.  From a distance it is quite picturesque with that unusual Pennsylvania Dutch colour and white trim.  Three.  Then I noticed a clump of trees to the east that also had not received the message of their brethren.  They stood in glorious green and yellow leaf while all the trees around them were bare of leaves.  Four.  On I walked, picking up the pace now as I climbed the hill to the Indian Graveyard.  Quite by surprise a neighbour drove by, rolled down the window and stuck out his arm in a wave.  It was so unusual that I said Five. 

Hit the graveyard and I turned around to head back.  By this time I was mulling over the idea of neighbours and realized that on November 16^th I will have lived in my home for 25 years.  In 25 years I have never once been invited into the home of any of my neighbours.  How unneighbourly is that?  I like the dynamics of Wisteria Lane of Desperate Housewives fame and feel sad that I don’t have that sort of neighbourhood.  So because I was thinking about that I forgot about Kim’s Game and didn’t discover any more natural wonders this morning.

Once again I think – I get more like Faster Jonna every day.  Focus.  But lately I seem to wool-gather more and more often and then I think “Still Alice”, oh oh, I’m in trouble.  Now what was this blog supposed to be about . . . nature?  Well, I’m a natural wonder too!

Labour Day Weekend Dawns

The sunrise was tardy and even then was disappointingly dismal due to rain clouds still hovering on the horizon. I am now seeing a sliver of sunshine so perhaps David Spence and I will not get divorced this weekend. I was making breakfast and while I was waiting for my toast to pop I was admiring my apple tree where the apples are looking bigger and redder than last weekend. Perhaps I will be able to harvest them on Monday and start making applesauce and pies with them. It’s a bumper crop for me although that would mean perhaps 50 apples. Sadly this part of the country struggles with fruit trees due to the Chinooks. Nature is confused in this part of the world. So are people!

I haven’t seen much in the way of wildlife this year; the deer from last weekend was the first fellow I’ve seen in my yard this year. Usually they come visit me several times during the summer but I believe the wilderness of weeds in my back 40 have deterred them (or perhaps that is where they are hiding and I just can’t see them?) I haven’t heard any coyotes this summer which seems odd and the magpies have all seemingly disappeared. I had heard some shotgun firing in July so perhaps my neighbour took to shooting them. Down the road a ways I have seen a lot of quail, at last I think they are quail. They look a lot smaller than the pheasants I usually see lurking in the shrubs. One day I did see a creature that at first I thought was a racoon (I was driving by rather quickly) but afterwards thought it might be a badger. It was quite huge. That is one creature I am deathly afraid of. My father told us farmers in Denmark would go out with coal in their boots to hunt badgers because those devils would bite into a person until they heard the crunch of your bones. Shiver. That just creeps me out. I saw some in the zoo once and they were screaming, irritable creatures. I hurried past them.

We’ve had masses and masses of dragonflies this year. First the bigger blue ones and lately they have been the golden orange, smaller ones. I’ve also had a lot of white butterflies (really they are moths, I know) this summer and now I see the smaller orange moths. My rose leaves have been quite chewed up but this year I left them alone as I think it does more harm to treat the plant than have insects eat them. The result has been some really gorgeous long stemmed yellow roses. Go figure! And my once pale pink roses are deep red this year due to a good dose of horse manure, I’m thinking. My evergreen trees have taken a huge leap forward which is likely due to the unusually wet season we’ve had.

There is no breeze stirring the leaves on the trees so I think it’s a good time for me to go for a long walk before I start my weekend chores!

Mother Nature Smiles

Yesterday was a great day, wonderful visit with Silvia and to top off the day we experienced the amazing sight of seeing two swans nesting across the street from my house. Over the years I have seen plenty of ducks and geese nesting and one year I saw a loon but this is the first time I’ve seen swans. They are enormous and their necks can do amazing things! I looked out the window this morning to see if they were still there and yes, they are still there. It’s thrilling and I just hope that the cars up and down the road won’t stop and gawk and frighten them away.

It’s early yet but it looks like we are going to have some great sunshine today and so far there is no wind. I plan on getting out for a long walk right after I write my story.

I asked Silvia “what is a baby swan called?” We couldn’t think of the name and so called them swanlings. Of course they are really called cygnets but I had to look it up as I couldn’t remember or remotely recall the name. Why are they called cygnets I have no idea but it must be out of the French as it sounds very French. My my, just glanced at questions and the male is a Cob, the female a Pen and they are Flocks. Good to know (like I’ll remember).

I think the swans are a lucky sign for a good spring. The plan for the day is to spend it outside and clean up the yard as it is very dull and dirty. When I take away all the dead leaves covering the garden patches I hope to see some green struggling through. I may even see some tulips starting up. I notice that the irises and tigerlilies are already well up. They are the hardiest of my flowers. I struggle with the idea of digging out of my front bed but I think I will have to if I am going to have the entry that I am dreaming of.

Well enough chat, today is a day for working outdoors and daylights burning. (In case you don’t know where that comes from, it’s from John Wayne’s The Cowboys and he actually says “your burning daylight” and the young fellow looks around and says “where’s the sun?” as it is still pitch dark. A cute moment).

Here are the swans across from the house.

Springtime Where are You?

It will be Easter Sunday a week from today and I just wonder where the tulips are? As a child living in Ontario I always remember us in dresses and bare arms during Easter break. Here in Southern Alberta things are so unpredictable but I must say the last couple of years have been particularly horrendous when it comes to weather.

Alright, let’s take a page out of Mark Twain’s book and make that the last time today I talk about it!

When we were really little we would get an Easter Egg, the bunnies were too expensive for us to get. As we got older my mother would buy us a good chocolate bar instead of an egg because she didn’t like the taste of the chocolate (she thought it was cheap). Naturally we felt jipped. Sometimes we played games like following a row of jelly beans to find our treat, we’d each have our own colour to find. I remember one time it lead nowhere but at the end there was a pile of multicoloured jelly beans so I would have to search even harder. That was my dad, he was always rather tricky and liked to make good fun. Jeanette always used to freak out if he did a trick, she was not good at laughing at the joke.

I remember when they put on the different Easter stories. The Robe came on quite often and when we got a bit older BenHur would also be an Easter favourite. They really don’t make Easter stories the way they make Christmas stories. Why is that? I always get very choked up at the end of both The Robe and BenHur when the crucifixion happens. The story of Jesus’ sacrifice is poignant and powerful. It would be nice if a producer could write a story that is more up-to-date in connecting with people. What I mean is that the films are generally too filled with biblical phraseology and I would like to hear people speaking realistically as well as making the stories more in line with what really happened.

I was quite young when I started wondering what bunnies and eggs had to do with the Easter story so I must admit that I have never been super high on Easter as a “holiday”. Even though we were not a religious family I did feel that the crucifixion was a serious story. I was a strange child.

Today I just think of Easter as the usher of spring – and I would like to know why that isn’t happening right across this country? Jeanette said they have snow this morning too! What is going on with our weather? (oops, sorry Mark, but this writer cannot be true to her word!)

Mother Nature you silly girl!

It’s Friday, it’s Friday! Who doesn’t love Fridays? And it’s moving day for us. I packed up pretty much all my stuff yesterday except my computer. Today I get to pack my bosses’ stuff. I was in Lorne’s office yesterday looking around and holy cow, he has more stuff than I do! It will be a challenge.

Never mind. I am looking forward to a mellow weekend of hanging around my house and visiting my mother and my sister. I might even get both of them out for a good walk in nature. Let’s hope Nature cooperates. Yesterday I was startled to get a call from my accountant when she asked me how much snow we got in Calgary. Snow? We got more than 6 inches in town while Calgary got zero. Naturally I spent the rest of the afternoon fretting about the drive home but fortunately there was nothing on the roads and only a bit of flying snow just out of Calgary.

Mother Nature you unpredictable woman you! How many odes have been written to you? What a silly question when Emily Dickinson had written hundreds! I particularly like The Bee. Have you noticed how people appreciate nature much more as they get older? When we are young we don’t think about it though we are revelling in it every day. How much we enjoyed catching polliwogs and hoping to see them sprout their legs. Watching and counting the ladybugs’ dots. Noticing the different coloured butterflies. I’ve always adored butterflies and even started a card collection of them. They were in Red Rose Tea as I recall.

This morning just before the alarm rang I thought “April and we still have mounds of snow, gross.” But what can you do about it? The O magazine has a big article and quiz on Optimism this month and the key is to “think positive” so I will positively see no snow when I get outside this morning. Here’s hoping.

Nature Ramblings in December

It’s a frosty morning although they (that would be David Spence of 66CFR fame) have promised sunny and -1, me thinks David will be paying out again (or does that happen on the weekends?). Ahh, that explains it, he can go out on a ledge during weekend promises because there is no payout!

This is going to be a short but sweet ramble and it is simply about the joys of nature. Appropriate that I should be writing this or perhaps I am being inspired because I am reading Gene Stratton Porter’s “Freckles”. I was talking about the book this morning to my sister Jeanette (regular Saturday morning chats) and we were admitting that while we are a word for word reader we have got to that stage of our reading lives where we will skim over the raptures of the author’s descriptions on the smell of the roses on a dewy front lawn. But I made the proviso that when one is reading a book by a naturalist the subject is all very much descriptive and then I gobble up the words and feel as though I am right there in the Limberlost with Mrs. Porter – or in this case, Freckles, who I am already in love with despite only having one hand, poor boy.

As I have written before (though I may not have posted this thought yet), when one is young we don’t appreciate the beauties of nature the same way as we mature. At least I know I was a reckless tomboy as a kid and though I adored being down on the creek madly plunging for frogs and was the best darn tree climber in our neighbourhood I was definitely not stopping to smell the roses. On the contrary, I adored sticking my fingers into the mouth of the snapdragons and then whacking off the heads to take along with me much to the distress of Mrs. Harris. Oh dear, sometimes I was a very naughty girl. I loved pussywillows and it is a great disappointment to me now that I live in an area where pussywillows do not thrive. I loved the feel of them even when I was a kid and now I love the silvery look of them, the contrast with the dark wood, and of course there is the nostalgia of remembering all the pussywillows along the Rolstons driveway.

Today I am conscious every day of my natural surroundings. I read some 15 years ago about the baby boomers hobbies as they were approaching their golden years. Golf was first, Gardening second, forget the third thing and Bird Watching was fourth. I have to tell a little joke on myself because I thought bird watching was a very peculiar hobby to score so high. As I mentioned before, I am terribly nearsighted. One morning I was washing my dishes and admiring my shrubs and flowers down by the shed. Then I looked harder and detected a bird sitting very still on a shovel. I was amazed at how still the bird was and I wondered if it was watching for a worm. I stood there and watched for a good five minutes before I realized that it was the handle on the shovel. I howled with laughter and thought what a fine bird watcher I was going to make when I reached the retirement stage. However I have become quite a bird watcher and since my evergreen trees are maturing nicely I have had some charming visitors around my acres.

This morning though all is quiet on Sanne's front, with that wintry stillness detected in this picture. But what a beautiful day in the countryside!