Memento Mori

Gerry and I grab our cameras and head to a park. He's been taking classes and wants to put some of what he's learned about landscape photography and camera settings into practice. I grab my favourite 60mm macro lens and trust I'll find something interesting a little closer to shoot. He crouches down by the

Lonely

Two lonely pots of bright yellow mums are all that's left on the back deck this morning. Gerry is busy outside bringing in pots and mats and outdoor furniture. The season is changing and we're inching toward waking up one morning to white—but not just yet. Please, not just yet. There was a hard frost

Sensing The Season

September is one of my favourite months and we’re midway through it already! In the spirit of embracing this month of transition (in many ways), I thought I’d consider the sensual things it is offering. I see . . . leaves on trees hinting of change the smiling face of our granddaughter a flock of

These Are Good Days

These are good days. Different, but good. We are adjusting to new routines that come from having our granddaughter, Makiya, with us and the changes have brought gifts. Just now, I'm sitting in a quiet house (well, except for our Yorkie, Maya, who has spotted someone walking outside and is letting me know about it).

Change in the Air

I wrote a Friday’s Fave Five post yesterday and accidentally deleted the whole thing before publishing. I considered rewriting it, but decided to move on instead. So, here we are starting fresh on what promises to be a busy Saturday morning. I canned the last of the beets from my garden yesterday. Gerry’s going to head

The Richest Moment

I baked bread yesterday, and served it fresh from the oven with homemade soup. ”This is one of my favourite suppers,” Gerry said. ”Mine too,” responded Makiya, munching on another piece of bread she snitched from my plate after asking with a cheeky grin if I was going to eat it. That was the richest

Liminal Days

The sprinklers have been blown out. Lawn furniture, outdoor mats, and flower pots all stowed for the winter. The garden is cleaned out and garlic is planted. Now we wait. One morning, there’s a dusting of white on the hills down the east valley. I pull on long pants instead of Capris, socks and shoes