It's the kind of day that was the norm at this time of year when we lived in the Pacific Northwest, but that we rarely experience here in arid Kamloops. The sky is gray, clouds are low, and raindrops dance in puddles on the sidewalk. The rain washes away memories of the endless smoky skies,
As I lift my favourite mug toward my mouth the handle breaks, spilling soy milky frothy coffee all over myself. That’s a troublesome way to start the day but maybe it reinforces my intention to stop with the soy milky frothy elixir first thing every morning. Maybe. Worth pondering. I’m starting a 16:8 intermittent fasting
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).
A stellar jay lands on a chair on my deck. I stop chopping tomatoes and watch as he hops from the chair to the railing and back again. They he takes flight, and I lose sight of him through the morning glory growing on the lattice. He is the first of his kind I’ve seen
It’s felt like a heavy week with the concern about fires and the oppressive smoke blanketing our city. Can I come up with five things? Maybe I need to try more than ever this week, so here goes. Blueberries. My favourite summer fruit is in season and, unlike raspberries which were burned by the extreme
We score a flat of raspberries. They’re a little burnt from the record-breaking heat, but fine for making jam. It’s a little dream come true, working side by side in the kitchen with Laurinda and Makiya, teaching them how easy it is to make jam. I make the first batch, offering tips while I go, then
It’s that magical time of year when every day I see new growth in the garden. We’re eating beautiful and delicious lettuce now. I’m going to pull the rest of the spinach before it bolts and use some of it in a lasagne. I thinned the carrots, and am doing the same with the Hakurei turnips,
Outside my kitchen window, the surprise brightness of a crescent moon high in the east gives me pause in my morning coffee making routine, and I whisper an involuntary “oh!”. Later, with my hands wrapped around a warm mug, I stand at the living room window and look to the east to see what kind
Conversation, camaraderie, laughter, hugs. Lots of hugs. It’s hard to say what aspect of the weekend is most precious. Three girls in the hot tub, being eaten by mosquitoes, but enjoying themselves nonetheless. Grandmother-granddaughter trip to the, heartbreakingly empty, bookstore. Mother and daughter working together in the kitchen. Movie night. Deep discussion. Light-hearted banter. Did
Friday morning. Before my first sip of soy milky frothy coffee, I watch in wonder as the first golden rays of the sun rising kiss the world where we live. I stand at the window transfixed by the grace of a deer wandering in our front yard. My eyes are drawn up as two Canada
Time has seemed to run in fits and starts this week as Gerry and I have been busy making plans and decisions and getting things done. As I sit here early on Friday morning and cast my mind back over the week that was, it is a blur. Trusting that as I put some thought