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

My Kitchen Counter

This is a photo of my kitchen counter last year on this day. To me, it’s a satisfying image that brings comfort to my anxious spirit. I’m not canning as much as I have in recent years. Rather, I’m relying more on my freezer to preserve the harvest and the bounty we get from the

Breathing Space

I’m sitting here listening to the sweet sound of rain. RAIN! At long last! The heavy weight of fire season is still with us but with many alerts and orders being rescinded and fires being brought under control, there is an easing of the burden. Skies, though not completely smoke free, are clear enough to

Bring on Fall

Yesterday, I pulled on a long sleeved shirt and put a little t-shirt on Murphy before we went out. The hottest days of summer are behind us. We’re into a cooling trend (it was 10C / 50F when I got up this morning) and we enjoyed a smattering of rain the other day (please, oh please,

Seasonal Shift

I transform 25 pounds of field tomatoes into a dozen beautiful jars of tomato soup and roast two trays of Black Krims and I am exhausted. Absolutely spent. Once upon a time I could easily can 50 pounds of tomatoes in one day and, aside from a sore back and feet, still have a measure

To Everything There is a Season

Like my gardening mojo, my canning mojo is in short supply this year too. Nevertheless, there are things to do, and this weekend it’s tomato soup time. Other than jam, this will be the first canning I’ve done this summer. Crazy, when I think about previous years, but there it is. This year is different. The

A Coffee Date

I leave the house in good time for a scheduled coffee date with a new friend downtown. When I get in the car, I see the bags we use for vegetables we harvest at the community garden in their space in the console and realize Gerry, who is down there working and harvesting, has nothing

On Tuesday That Feels Like Monday

Gerry arrives home from a three day backpacking trip and I emerge from a weekend of solitude, looking forward to the return of a measure of routine. The garden calls. There are things to harvest, things to prune, things to pull, and, perhaps, things to plant. My gardening mojo is absent this year but we plod