Whoever described summer days as “lazy” wasn’t a gardener. I am, and this time of year is far from lazy around here. Yesterday, after an early trip to the garden to water, weed, and harvest, I spent the rest of the morning washing, chopping, and bagging while I sent Gerry out to foist some cucumbers
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
Another week has flown by—the last one before summer officially arrives. Taking time, this morning, to look back and be thankful for small, simple things with Friday’s Fave Five. Watering flowers. Every morning, I fill watering can after watering can with water in the sink in the laundry room, and go outside to water pots
I’m behind by a couple of tutorials in the Jean Haines Watercolour School I signed up for. They’re interesting, and I’m chomping at the bit to dig in. I need to stake my tomatoes and tend to a handful of other things at the community garden. My desk is a mess. There are Story Circle Network
It’s a blustery morning. I have things to do in the garden but likely won’t do them today. It’s more likely I’ll catch up on a handful of administrative items in the woman cave, then settle in with a book, the dogs, and another cup of coffee. Maybe I’ll put a few pieces in the
We prepare for another day without electricity. Gerry backs the cars out of the garage (the automatic garage door won’t open with no power), I think about what to take out of the refrigerator so we won’t have to open it while it’s off, fill water bottles (yeah, I know we could drink tap water,
It’s Sunday. We have turned our clocks back and are in the dark months. A few days ago we were out early—leaving home at 6:30 am—for an appointment and I remarked how the quiet streets reminded me of my morning commute when I was still working. Gerry reminded me of what I used to say
As I’ve been pondering blogging, what it once was, and what I imagine it returning to now, I remembered The Simple Woman’s Daybook. Months ago, when I was really struggling, I began listing things in my journal that I saw, smelled, tasted, heard, and felt as a grounding practice. It sounds simple, but it helped.
It’s Friday. Even though I’ve been retired from my corporate life for six years it still feels like the end of the week and an opportunity to look at what I got done and what’s left to do. What I got done this week was, in short: nothing. I put two things on my “to
’Tis the season for reading lists! I always enjoy seeing the books others have read over the past twelve months and finding new ones to add to my own TBR (to be read) list. This year, I kept my reading list in a notebook and when I logged a book, I added a few words.
It’s been an unexpected whirlwind week. Yesterday afternoon, I sat in my wing chair, reading and highlighting, while beet pickles processed in the canner. Content, I looked over at my open kitchen with its tidy counters and big blue Ball canner boiling on the stove. We picked the last of the beets the day prior