Leaves

The leaves are falling in earnest now.  Every day I take Miss S for a walk and we come home with fist-fulls of new-fallen finds.  We hang them in the windows or fill bowls with them for centerpieces.  Mostly, we let them dry into crunchy curls, but I pressed a few in a book last week and remembered them today along with a creative idea that I've been meaning to try.  Thanks to Jean at The Artful Parent for a very enjoyable hour of creative fall fun.

How do you enjoy the fall leaves?

Linking to Mosaic Monday

Cold and Sunny

It's finally turned cold here -- and beautifully bright and sunny.  There's frost in the mornings and I've revived my winter ritual of sitting in front of the pellet stove in the mornings with a cup of coffee.  Ah, the little pleasures!

Other little pleasures:  fresh air and a glimpse of the world through a toddler's eyes.  We've been collecting sticks lately.

This deck of this boardwalk was slick with frost in the shady spots but thawed and dried instantly when the sun hit it.

Miss S's older cousin sometimes visits for the morning, so we had company on this walk.  The girls got their gum boots wet in the lake then sat side by side on the dock for a snack of oranges and almonds.  There are some very sweet pictures of them together, but I try not to post other people's children here.

I'd be interested to know what others do with photos of other people, especially kids.  Do you get permission, completely avoid posting them, or just go for it?

Finally, I have finally posted these new placemats in the shop.  It took longer than expected to finish them off, but here they are.  I think they're perfect for winter -- not overtly Christmas-y, but filled with mountains and forests and woodland critters in cool snowy colours.  

Thanks for visiting, and please remember to leave me a comment if you have thoughts on the photo issue.

A Personal Photo Challenge: Trees

The vibrant fall colours that I was hoping to show you never materialized.  As more and more leaves skitter ahead of me down the sidewalk, I'm beginning to realize that they aren't coming; they've passed us by completely this year.  In exchange for those reds and oranges, we've enjoyed a warm autumn.  No frost yet.  Cherry tomatoes and zucchini are still ripening in my garden (in November).  The days are shorter, yet wool coats languish in the back of the closet while we enjoy more than our share of sunny Sunday afternoons.

Taken with my Nickon 1 J2:  Aperture Priority,  f/10,  1/100 sec,  ISO 200

I took these photos on one of those unexpectedly sunny weekends.   What started as a family walk turned into a family frolic.  We chased each other around tree trunks and twirled until we fell over.  We collected acorns and dueled with sticks.  The silliness that a two-year-old brings out is amazing.

Taken with my Nickon 1 J2:  Aperture Priority,  f/10,  1/125 sec,  ISO 200.

I even took some pictures.  for these first two I was experimenting with sun stars and perspectives on those long tree shadows.  These Garry Oak trees have already dropped most of their leaves and I like their bare, linear look.  The black and white treatment accentuates this.

Taken with my Nickon 1 J2:  Aperture Priority,  f/10,  1/125 sec,  ISO 200

Finally, looking straight up into the sky.  I especially like the bits of sunlight on the centre tree.

Challenges during this photo shoot had to do, for the most part, with doing two things at once.  Let's just say that camera settings for trees against bright sky are very different from those for family silliness among falling shadows.  I was going back and forth, wishing for more efficient controls, and not always getting it right.  Oh well.  The fun far outweighed the camera frustration.

Linking to Donna's Personal Photo Challenge, and looking forward to seeing everyone else's trees.

Walking

This fall has been so gloriously warm, so summer-like, that I'm only now catching the feelings of fall.  The comforting hug of sweaters and scarves.  The damp smell of the forest.  The shiver of joy when rain falls hard on the roof at night.

I'm rediscovering my favorite walking trails.  They're less busy during the day now, the domain of dog-walkers and mothers with pre-schoolers.  Kids and pets.  They get us outside rain or shine.

Boardwalks are damp, the light oblique.

Everything grows green again.  Even the puddles.

I play naturalist with Miss S, walking at toddler speed and noticing everything.  Translucent mushrooms erupt from tree trunks.  Why have I not noticed them before?

Banana slugs abound, another sign of the season.  Watch them.  Poke them.  Photograph them.  The world is full of wonders.  

What have you been enjoying lately?

Cat Feet

The fog came in on little cat feet, just like in that poem that we all studied in middle school.  It came in while I was looking the other way, collecting clam shells and watching seagulls bob and fish on the inside of the breakwater.   Early fall yellows reflected.

Then, a fog horn bellowed at my back.  It reverberated across the lagoon, stirring up the gulls with its forceful melancholy.  Other ships in the straight answered in their own voices, and the first cottony wisps of mist floated overhead.

I crossed the breakwater and looked out to sea.  There was nothing -- only fog and the lapping tide.  

The fog came

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg

Tomatoes and More

I started pulling out the tomato plants this week.  I'm always a bit sad to turn so viciously on the same plants that I tucked into fresh soil a few short months ago.  Since May I've been trimming and tying, watering and wishing over these plants.  Now they're chopped up small, wilting on the compost pile.  There's not a lot of room for nostalgia in the veggie garden.  Besides, the tomatoes were good this year and I still have plenty of them.  They're mounded high in all my biggest mixing bowls and serving platters -- beautiful red and green -- waiting (not very patiently) for attention.

The cherry tomato plants, in the warmth and shelter of the eve, soldier on.  Little Miss has no idea that they too will succumb to the changing season.  She knows how to pick only the red ones and eats them out of hand like candy.

We ventured outside with a mixing bowl (I found an empty one) and basked in the sun.  There's been enough rain lately that we remember to bask when the opportunity comes.  I filled the bowl.  Little Miss filled her tummy.  The shadows were long and the spiders where out, both signs of fading summer.  

Then Little Miss had an idea:  a picnic.  Why not.  Dealing with tomatoes is hard work.  A blanket, some lunch and a glorious fall day add up to the perfect picnic.

What have you been up to?

Between

Two weeks ago I spent the morning here.  I was comfortable in shorts, sporting a sun hat and sand between my toes.

The heady days of summer are not quite over, but they're losing interest in us, looking away more often.  Then back.  Then away.

Today I don a sweater in the morning but shed it two hours later.  I watch the garden, exhausted from it's season in the sun, droop and begin to yellow, even as the harvest rolls in.  We're caught between, lingering in one season and looking toward another.

Rememberance

My roster of life experience does not include much from the category of war, and for that I'm grateful.  On this eleventh day of the eleventh month I don't remember as much as try to think about the unthinkable for a moment.



Miss S and I frequent a park that includes a war memorial -- a nod to the Canadian war monument at Vimmy Ridge.  Just last week, in the early-falling dusk of autumn, we found it lit for the first time and I happened to have my camera.  I pondered the strange juxtaposition of war and this deserted park, quiet except for the giggles of a little girl.

How do you remember?

Bringing Pins to Life: Caramel Apple Spice Drink

Do you pin more ideas than you'll ever try?  I do.  But every once in a while I dig through a Pinterest board and surface with something to actually execute.  Enter Caramel Apple Spice.

Photo Credit to Laura at Make Life Lovely:  http://www.makelifelovely.com/2013/09/starbucks-caramel-apple-spice-recipe.html

Doesn't it look yummy?  If you read about it at Make Life Lovely, it sounds yummy too.  In need of some cozy fall spice, I gave it a whirl this week.

The caramel flavoring is little more than a simple syrup -- just use brown sugar instead of white and spike the works with a few cinnamon sticks and cloves.  This concoction lives in the fridge until called for, at which time a meager splash (and a little microwave time) infuses plain old apple juice with all the warmth and spice of an apple pie.  It really doesn't take much.

We've been making these drinks all weekend.  In fact, I'm sipping as I type.  Thanks Pinterest.

And a big thanks to Laura at Make Life Lovely for cracking the Starbucks secret and sharing.

Getting Out

Every weekend Gary and I push off indoor projects in favour of a walk outside.  We tell each other that this could be the last nice weekend for a long time.  But so far the nice weekends keep coming.  

These photos show last weekend's excursion to one of our favorite parks.  It's a bit of a drive, but well worth the effort.  Rocky shore lines and the occasional sandy beach.  Bright ocean and bright sky.  Loose forest filled with life and filtered light.  

 

We spotted this woodpecker high up, noisily mining for bugs, raining chunks of bark on the forest floor.  It's not the best picture, but I was pleased to catch him at all with my little point and shoot.  Notice the run of exposed wood in the bottom left.  He's been busy.

The forecast for this weekend is mixed, but we're still hoping to get out.  Fall is such a good time for rediscovering favorite places.  Will you get out this weekend?

In Defiance of the Season & an Update from the Dapple Design Shop

Tulips.  In October.  Not from my garden, of course.  Gary brought these home on Friday to help me celebrate the recent action over at the Dapple Design Shop.  More on that in moment.  

 

I took the flowers out to the garden this morning and pondered the bizarre juxtaposition of tulips in October.  Here, they're photographed against a clematis vine thinning itself down for winter.  Jarringly oblivious, the tulips beam their springtime yellow.  They join the host of unseasonable luxuries delivered by greenhouses and rapid transport.  Tomatoes all winter.  Bananas at any time.  Tulips in October.  I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy them. 

Returning to the Dapple Design Shop.  It's been an exciting week with packages dispatched to new and distant places.  Another package arrived -- full of Christmas fabric.  Don't you love the bright, cheery colours?  Which is your favorite?  Gift bags from these beautiful prints will soon be available in the shop, so visit often and stock up early.  

 

Autumn Candles

My mom says that candles provide the illusion of warmth.  She's right, of course.  They do.  So I light them and huddle nearby with a mug of steamy tea, acting out the tableau of the chilly night, as I saw my mother do so many times.  That's just what I was doing last night when my Little Miss wondered over to point at the candles and declare, "pretty".  Thirty years from now, she'll do the same.

This particular candle arrangement came together an hour before Thanksgiving dinner with almost no planning.  Some of the best ideas come off extempore, but if you'd like to make your own version, here's how:

DIY Instructions

Begin by placing three pillar candles on a pedestaled cake plate and wrapping several layers of hemp string around them.  Tie a pretty bow or knot and, if you like, add a seasonal tag.  Then arrange fallen leaves and acorns around the candles, taking care to keep leaves well away from flames.

Now make some hot tea and enjoy your illusion of warmth.

Thankfulness

I took the camera into the yard with me yesterday afternoon.  Overall, the garden has that tangled, thinning look of fall, but a few bright spots hold their ground.  Dahlias and purple mums bloom until frost and succulents thrive in the cooler weather.  I'm not sure what those white flowers are.  A bush from our neighbour's yard has hopped the fence.  Far be it from me to cut back anything that flowers white in autumn.

Since embarking on this blog and my creative journey, I've become more observant -- or maybe just more willing to stop and observe.  The simple act of taking a picture requires noticing, pausing, circling, composing.  It's about seeing beauty and interacting briefly with it.  Best of all, these momentary flashes of creative energy -- this noticing -- fit around and between the demands of motherhood.  While snapping the above photos, for example, I was playing peekaboo with this little sweetheart.

 

And that brings me to thankfulness.  This is a weekend (in Canada, at least) to sit around a turkey dinner with family and reflect on the goodness in our lives.  Family.  Abundant food.  Health.  Freedom.  I remember that two years ago on this day Gary and I learned that we would be parents.  One journey ended and another began.

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.  

His love endures forever. 

--from Psalm 136--

One Project, Finished, and a Confession

It's done!  I finished my Wuthering Heights wreath (more about that here) with a simple plaid bow and a spray of fall coloured branches and beads.  It has found a home on my mantle, but due to the weather and the whirlwind who is my daughter, I couldn't get a good picture there -- too dark during nap time.  Here it is, basking by the patio door.

A confession:  I'm very proud to have finished this project within a week.  There was nothing complicated or especially time consuming about it.  It's just that I have a dismal track record when it comes to finishing such things.  Why is a fall wreath imagined more alluring than an actual fall wreath?  Why do the creative juices stir and then go stagnant?  Why is starting more fun than finishing?  

Is your track record for finishing projects any better than mine?  Please share your secrets.

On This Rainy Sunday

It's been raining for two days and nights, a strong, steady rain.  The Great Wet has begun.  I try not to think of the dark days that will come, focusing instead on cozy, inside things.  Fall.  Thanksgiving.  Christmas.  Quiet evenings by the fire.

I spent the morning tidying my life and my kitchen.  Produce is still trickling in from the garden, a reminder that summer hasn't quite left us.  This morning I sliced two trays worth of tomatoes for drying.  Miss S watched from her high chair, munched a handful of diced tomato, and asked for "mo".  

I haven't dried tomatoes before this year, but I don't know why not.  It's easy and the results are yum yum yummy.  I core and slice the tomatoes, sprinkle them with kosher salt, thyme and a little brown sugar.  Then it's low and slow in the oven -- about 5 or 6 hours at 225.

Last night was Craft Night.  That consisted of three girls, a bottle of wine, some snacks and a DIY wreath project.  This is mine.

Don't you love the texture?  All those paper circles are punched from a thrift store version of Wuthering Heights.  That little detail really thrills me.  All that bluster up on the moors makes Wuthering Heights the perfect novel to punch to pieces on a blustery fall night.  Of course the wreath isn't quite done.  I want to add a bit more fullness around the outside edge and some sort of banner or bow.

By the way, the DIY instructions for this project came from Make Life Lovely.  Thanks to my friend, Amanda, for making Craft Night happen.  Let's do it again.

Wishing you a warm and cozy remains for the weekend.