Leaving

Part of the swirl that I've been caught up in these months has to do with an impending move.  It was never the plan to live in our current house forever, but the week after New Years we found a notice in the mail box that spurred us to action.  We renovated, spruced, listed and sold.  We explored neighbourhoods and looked into schools.  We hunted, pondered, wondered and finally bought.  All in just nine weeks.  We're exhausted.

As I wandered the backyard yesterday, it hit me.  This is the last time I'll see the blue Muscari under the apple tree.  That young plumb tree might fruit for the first time this year, but someone else will (I hope) harvest its fruit.  When I trimmed back the peonies last fall, I had no idea that I'd never see those deep pink blooms again.  Suddenly all the spring blooms and early green shoots are even more precious than usual.

There will be a new yard, a blank canvas.  But this was my first garden.  I know the ways the light dances through the leaves and I will miss it.

Joining the Sunlit Sunday fun at My Little Home and Garden.

Yellow

I looked out the window this morning and something yellow caught my eye.  I almost dropped by tea.  A crocus.  Just one, sunning itself in a sheltered corner.  Naively stretching up and open like a toddler, up far to early in the morning.  Even here on the west coast this is an unusual sight for January.

I'll be linking to Sunlit Sunday, hosted by Karen at My Little Home and Garden.

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?

Another Busy, Sunny Day

The sun is streaming in through the windows.  Hubby is industriously chopping tomatoes and jalapeno peppers, doing his bit to keep the mound of tomatoes on the counter in check.  This is the mound.  I can't help showing it off a bit:  45 pounds of backyard garden goodness with more to come.

I've been taking advantage of the bright afternoon to take a bite out of my own mound -- all the handmade Christmas goodies that I've been making for the Dapple Design Shop.  Here's your very first sneak peak.

Yes, my Cloth Gift Bags are back for another season.  They're reusable, easy on the planet, and oh-so-pretty.  I'll be listing these very soon, so keep your eyes open.

Today I'm linking up with Angela at Pretty Little Inspirations.  Please drop by and visit a few of the online shops joining her link party.

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.

Finding Joy

It's all the little things that are bringing me joy these days.  All the seasonal treats, the pleasures of early summer. 

A bowl of itty bitty, sunny sweet strawberries -- still among the first from our patch.

Leisurely strolls with my favorite people.

Arugula pesto and goat cheese for breakfast, lunch and snack.

Watching some things fade so something else can take their place.

Something like a new colour of Columbine from the farmer's market.

Quiet evenings with pretty yarn and new ideas.

Puttering in my Etsy shop and adding these pretty crochet baskets to the line up.

What's bringing you joy these days?

There Are Seeds And They Are Trying

Water is wonderful thing.  It sparkles and shines.  It feels cool and fresh.  It pours and splashes in endless ways.

It won't come as a surprise, then, that watering the new grass has become a highlight of Miss S's day.  She practically dances around me to wet her hands (or more) in the glittering spray from the hose.  It's marvelous fun for her, but I have to confess that there are few aspects of this twice daily routine that I could pass on.

For starters, I have to strip her down to her birthday suit at the font door and find dry clothes twice a day.  The bigger challenge, however, is keeping that excited little girl off the new grass.

We have a lovely story book out from the library this week that sums the situation up beautifully.

. . . or maybe it was the bears and all that stomping, because bears can't read signs that say things like "please do not stomp here -- there are seeds and they are trying."

Bears.   Toddlers.  Neither can read signs.

We're still waiting and watering.  Looking for those first green shoots.

. . . and the brown, still brown, has a greenish hum that you can only hear if you put your ear to the ground and close your eyes

That book, in case you're wondering is called And Then It's Spring by Julie Fogliano, illustrated by Erin E. Stead.

Peonies

We've been doing a little landscaping this spring -- a little re-landscaping actually.  It's not the kind of project that thrills gardeners, but believe me, it's necessary.  We're turning garden beds into grass.  Just a few.  It  has something to do with a little girl who likes to run in the grass and her mother who would rather join in than pull weeds.  Priorities shift.

Deciding which garden to plow under took a little thought.  I found myself wandering around the yard, noticing my emotional responses to the different plantings.  The veggie beds fill me with pride.  The raspberry canes made my mouth water.  The hostas on the shady side of the patio have grown to the sound of ice clinking in iced tea glasses and the chatter of many gatherings.

I stopped at the peonies.  The peonies that bloom deep and dark and lighten to pink.  The peonies that survived an ill-timed dividing off from my mother-in-law's plant and several ill-timed moves around the garden.  They're flourishing now, in the part shade of the apple tree, reminding me every spring of a baby shower two years ago.

The hostesses went to great trouble over that one.  Food.  Decorations.  It was lovely.  But I don't remember much.  I walked in, an overwhelmed four-day-mother, and the room was filled with peonies.

Memory is a funny thing.  Has anything triggered yours lately?

Growing

Warm weather has arrived sooner than expected.  I'm not sure if that has more to do with an early summer or conservative expectations.  Either way, I can feel the tingle of the sun all the way down to my toes.  Happy days.  

Busy days too -- in the very best ways.  Being outside is a pleasure when the sun is warm and the wind cool.  So are long walks to distant playgrounds and lunches on the grass.  Somehow the essential work is getting done.  Laundry.  Supper.  But I try not to fuss too much.

Just for a moment, I'm living in the moment, wondering which is growing faster, my garden or my daughter.  Both are pure joy to watch.

Inspection

The days of daily garden inspections are here.  Sometimes I make an excuse -- that compost bucket on my counter is full again.  Sometimes I slip into shoes and make the rounds for no good reason save the pleasure of watching plants grow.  I circle slowly past the strawberry bed and the pear tree.  I bend to gauge a peony bud.  I lift rhubarb leaves and smell future treats.  Fiddle heads unfurl.  Miss S follows and imitates and dances in the grass.  What joy.

Sunlit Sunday with Real Sunshine

It's raining again at the moment, but the sun shone this week.  All week.  I'm not talking about a metaphorical sunniness or a symbolic scrap of yellow, not a transitional breath of light between showers.  The sun shone.  All week.  Temperatures crept up.  Spirits soared.  Croci opened wide in their last hurrah and I, shovel in hand, inhaled the aroma of fresh soil and the food that it will grow.  Hallelujah, it's spring.

I'm joining Karen at My Little Home and Garden for Sunlit Sunday.

Into the Garden

After days and days of downpour it was finally time to get outside.  Rain or no rain, here I come.  Imagine my surprise when, emerging from the house, I didn't get wet.  In fact, my walk to the grocery store got brighter and brighter.  "Sunny?" questions Miss S.  "Yes" I tell her, "look, there's a patch of blue sky."  She was tickled pink.  Blue sky.  What a funny thing.

Here she sits, enjoying that fleeting patch of sky and munching an apple while I inspect the garden and officially start spring clean up.

Surprised by Spring

 I've been longing impatiently for spring.  I've been scrutinizing the tell-tale signs:  a minute more daylight in the evening, a slightly more golden quality to that light.  Yet somehow I was surprised today to find that my garden has gotten on with the business of spring without me.  The snowdrops are looking tired while the crocuses beam -- sunshine with dewdrops.  Bluebells and tulips in sheltered places shoot three or four inches out of the ground and the grass needs mowing.  When did all that happen?

Linking to Sunlit Sunday.

Editorial Retraction:  These sunny little shoots endured a skiff of snow this morning.  Perhaps I spoke too soon.

Of Primroses and a Crochet Project

I'm encouraging spring with this planter of blue and yellow primula.  My heart skipped a beat when I first noticed the annuals for sale last week.  Could brighter skies and longer days be just around the corner?  These omens of sunshine sit on the front step and make me smile every time I walk past.  That's what flowers are supposed to do, right?

Primroses of not, it's actually been a soggy couple of days around here and I'm spending more time curled up with my crochet.  I think one of my favorite things about crochet is that it goes so well with curling up.  There's no need to sit at a sewing desk or run back and forth to the ironing board. These days, I'd much rather enjoy my down time sitting down.

Here's my most recent project.

This soft airplane toy is for my little nephew.  I didn't think to take a picture of it until it was time to wrap it up.  There wasn't a lot of light left, so you'll have to forgive the photography and believe me that it's very cute.

Project Notes:
For those who are interested, the pattern came from this Etsy vendor and was very easy to follow.  I had a bit of a light bulb moment while stuffing it and added a rattle. Between the soft, knobbly texture of the crochet, the floppy wings and tail pieces and the rattle, I think Baby Boy will find lots to appreciate.

So here I sit, with one foot in the garden and the other curled under me in a comfy chair.  It's the impatient season.

This and That

Fall feels more like winter.  Several mornings this last week I woke to a wonderland of frost, enough to change the quality of the early light in my windows.  Cold and bright.  Strawberry plants gleamed red and green under their silver frosting and a sad looking potted geranium froze right over.  (I had better unclog that pot before it cracks.)  Even the patio furniture changed under it's whitewash of frost.  Miss S, bundled in her too-big coat, wasn't nearly as thrilled with the changes as I was.  Crunchy grass is harder to walk on and cold fingers and toes aren't as nimble as they should be.  She contented herself by scraping frost off a patio chair with her sandbox toy while I marveled and photographed.  Then back inside to play by the fire.

That was first light.  We were out again, ambling home from the grocery store, at dusk.  Puddles aplenty reflected the dying light, as if to extend the short day.  Miss S munched an apple.  We keep a box of them in the garage and Miss S has a hard time passing by without stealing one.  

A little new-camera fun.  I used the selective colour setting here to drown everything but Miss S's coat and hat to monotone.  The light is soft to start with and I think this effect enhances the mood of the moment -- quiet and grey with a shining path of light to lead us home.

That was last week.  Today looks more like this.

I'm nursing a sick husband and conserving my own scratchy voice.  Miss S is at Nana's for the day, breathing germ-free air and giving mommy and daddy time to rest.  Chai tea from a cheery red mug and a new crochet project are on the agenda.

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.  

 

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--

Feeling Blue

I like blue.  It makes me feel tranquil and content, perhaps because some of the nicest things in life are blue.  The summer sky.  The sea.  My daughters bright eyes.  These dried hydrangea flowers are still blue as blue can be.  It's a good thing I brought them in when I did, because the last few days have brought enough rain, wind and hail to tatter the garden.  

While Miss S naps, I'm working this bundle of squishy blue yarn into a set of baby leg warmers.  Last night the urge to crochet took hold.  I really wanted to start a new sweater for Miss S, but that requires more than scraps, which requires planning ahead.  Instead I dug out the pattern for these little leg warmers and settled in.

The pattern, by the way, is one that I bought a while back from this Etsy shop.  It's a sweet design and, after a little experimenting to get the gauge right, I'm finding the pattern easy to follow.  I might even make a pair for myself as the pattern includes an adult size.  Maybe they'll be blue.