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A Pot Luck Dinner

Yule Tree

Our Tuesday night Knit group came to my house last night for a potluck celebration of our group and of the Yule season. I want to explain that I am not a Domestic Goddess, in fact I am a rather remedial case.  Thankfully, my dear husband does all the cooking and prepares fantastic meals from scratch.

Bill was in Regina visiting his brother, and I had an option; I could either paint the dining room or throw a party!  I considered doing both but that didn’t pan out.  Throw a party it was,

I covered my bets by making it a pot luck – that way, we would not be forced to eat what I could whip up.  Well, my beloved Tuesday Knitters really stepped up!  I was not quite ready when my first guest arrived., Amelie generously offered to help out, and she has a great deal more skill in the kitchen than I! So did the next guests, setting out food, cutting up a baguette, cutlery.  Eventually it was like a kitchen party.  Next time, I’ll make sure a fiddler shows up and plays.Gina helped me get the music going ( I’m supposed to be a techie!) We had a fabulous veggie curry, a quinoa salad to die for, Jamie Oliver put in an appearance, a veggie quiche chock full of yummy veggies and the desserts were terrific.  Christina lost  skin in her baking adventures with brownies, there was delicious Sucre a la Creme and I produced a Gingerbread Bundt Cake from scratch against terrific odds. The recipe is in a separate post that will go up by tomorrow morning..

We had a yarn swap afterwards, and there were terrific treasures,  We boosted Amelie, our new knitter’s stash with some pretty yarn; and i found some blue squishy stuff and some more yarn for a Mindful knitting Workshop that I will be running for Joanne. Every one went home happy and I am so, so grateful for my wonderful talented friends.

 

 

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The Siren Call of Spring

 

Wild Geese
Wild Geese

Overhead the Canadian geese are chatting amongst themselves, as they move in with the warmer weather. Happily, there are a lot of options nearby for them to land and feed in. Their chatting voices are by necessity rather loud since they need to be heard above the sound of the rushing wind, and since their v – shaped flying patterns keep them spaced very widely apart. I wouldn’t think there are very many intimate conversations going on, just stories about how grandpa used to love this place or how that place dried up like a desert last year, and instructions to the young ones to note that particular landmark. I rejoice in their sound since it means that at least one other species thinks that the weather is going to get warmer.

Another sound of spring that cheers me is the pervasive sound of water trickling under the bottom of a plate of ice, of water whooshing through our downspouts, and rising in the ditches. It means that our blanket of 2 or 3 feet of snow is slowly, reluctantly, giving way to the sunshine. It is replenishing the aquifer gradually that flows beneath my farm, because we live in the country, and because this year it is melting slowly enough to be absorbed into the ground.

I realize that the majority of you who live in cities probably miss a lot of these water sounds. So much of the ground is “developed” and paved over that the spring runoff goes directly to storm water collection systems.

The smaller birds are getting noisy too – calling as they gather in large groups and then whizzing in twos to a new feeding patch.  They’re getting ready for mating season, gathering energy for the frolicking ahead.

Spring is a wonderful season full of anticipation and excitement. Around our place it also comes with mud and lots of winter hair, given up by its original owners and now sticking fiercely on every piece of clothing I own.  I will take the good with the bad, the hair with the sun.  I will appreciate every small intimate change in my surroundings! Spring is here!!!!

 

 

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Peace in every Breath

One day just to ensure that I achieved the right frame of mind; Shanti, my cat, hopped into my lap. Her name means peace, and she did help me feel peaceful, once she finished kneading my legs with her paws and settled down to rest. There is something very calming about the quiet purring of a contented cat.

 

 

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Birdsong and Haying

I am savouring the morning concert of the birds with a solo performance by the ruby-throated hummingbird at his feeder. The solo is more acrobatic than acoustic; accompanied by the whirr of his wings. The solo stands out nicely from the other birdsong which is melodic and liquid. I try to pick out the different calls of the robin, the crow, the phoebe, and the mourning doves,  This concert is in honour of the morning and I am celebrating our getting in the hay for the year.

This spring was cool and very wet delaying the growth of new grass in our pasture, so we fed hay longer than usual and used up all our reserves of hay. We’ve had so much rain this summer that the farmers could not harvest the hay.

This past weekend was one of the few where there were enough dry days in a row to cut, dry and bale the hay. So Bill and I along with our neighbors put in more than 300 bales; 100 for them, 200 for us. We owe them some labour. I am so thankful for their assistance, without it we would still be working on getting in the hay. I find the work itself so satisfying, since it proves that we are again strong and fit enough  to pick up, carry and stack all this hay. It shows that the body can still stretch and throw and sweat and replenish itself, a wonderful tool.

Waterbreak during haying

 It is a way of marking the season, we can relax now that our horses’ feed for the winter is in. I think I need to start planning a summer BBQ for all our neighbours to keep those ties deep and strong.

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Gardening Meditation

It’s been 29 days, and still it hurts.  My days are much lighter now, I see the beauty in many things. My wild roses are budding, and this evening, I finished weeding, pruning,  removing exuberant coneflowers, and  mulching my 4th major perennial bed in my backyard.

I’ve been working on growing and adding to my perennial gardens for the past 15 years. I’ve tried to use plants that are native to this area, as well as plants that are drought-tolerant, because  I don’t want to spend my summer watering and babying plants along. It has worked very well, as long as I enjoy Comfrey, Coneflowers, and Goldenrod.

I do, of course, but sometimes I long for Lupins or Cardinal flowers.  They usually get out competed by the Coneflowers.

Luna, my 14 month old lab mix, got hit by a train on May 5th. 29 days doesn’t seem very long time – one fourteenth of a lifetime.image

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The Siren Song of Spring

Overhead the Canadian geese are chatting amongst themselves, as they move in with the warmer weather. Happily, there are a lot of options nearby for them to land and feed in. Their chatting voices are by necessity rather loud since they need to be heard above the sound of the rushing wind, and since their v – shaped flying patterns keep them spaced very widely apart. I wouldn’t think there are very many intimate conversations going on, just stories about how grandpa used to love this place or how that place dried up like a desert last year, and instructions to the young ones to note that particular landmark. I rejoice in their sound since it means that at least one other species thinks that the weather is going to get warmer.

Another sound of spring that cheers me is the pervasive sound of water trickling under the bottom of a plate of ice, of water whooshing through our downspouts, and rising in the ditches. It means that our blanket of 2 or 3 feet of snow is slowly, reluctantly, giving way to the sunshine. It is replenishing the aquifer gradually that flows beneath my farm, because we live in the country, and because this year it is melting slowly enough to be absorbed into the ground.

I realize that the majority of you who live in cities probably miss a lot of these water sounds. So much of the ground is “developed” and paved over that the spring runoff goes directly to storm water collection systems. It is a rather recent development that water in the cities gets hidden away quickly underground in man-made structures.

I remember as a kid walking to school crossing a little bridge that spanned a creek that snaked around our area. I was fascinated by the water, which only flowed quickly in the spring. Sometimes there would be a broken bicycle pushed up against a rock or a rainbow of colours where someone dumped a questionable mix of chemicals into the creek. I guess we thought that the water could flush anything away without being affected. Now when I go back to that neighbourhood, the water is safely hidden away. I hope that this will protect the quality of the water, but I doubt it. Most Canadian municipalities cannot fund upgrades and improvements to their waste water systems. See this article entitled Look Before you Leak in the ezine Water Canada.

Whoops, this is supposed to be an uplifting post about spring. Sorry, did I mention the new sounds of birds?…