|from our garden|
27 September 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
I've really let you go wild since we returned from Australia..., this happens; we'll get back on track soon. We left you right when you were giving us your best, it wasn't fair to any of us.
I haven't been well,
I know you understand,
and this is why you've been entertaining me with your unrestrained beds bubbling over with yellow tomatoes and bumble bees. I've photographed your best sides this year - we'll just leave the mess to the memory.
You've always look nice (to me anyway), and I can see the progress we've made this summer. You'll be back in spring - fresh. Besides, some of your plants were meant to be left alone this year, like your foxgloves: I wanted them to seed themselves in your new soil along the side of the house, ...and they are. The Clematis too, they need time to adjust to you, and you to them.
You have survived the drought of 2011: both by mother nature and myself, my neglect. Sure enough though, the autumn rains have come and all your damp loving shady perennials out there are soaking it all up. They'll be fine.
Thank you for the rudbeckia show, a September favourite, never failing. They're beautiful (and the last of your blooms).
Your autumn preparations are underway, vegetables out, daffodils in. I'm already excited to see you next spring.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
|Along the McIntyre on my way to work|
with flowers for my desk.
We're both in favour of the bike lanes, but regularly - as with all things - discuss all angles (which is one the many things I love about us). In this case, along John Street, I can see why he wondered about users - they are a little scarce, and I know why.
First, what the shared lane there does is give people the choice: to either follow the straight forward commuter route, or connect to the recreational trail. Personally, the decision is simple: recreational trail. As I explained to R,
"The reason you don't see as many riders using the shared lane here is because anyone who really rides in this city is in behind there (pointing beyond the houses south of John) riding along one of the best stretches of recreational trail in the city."
It rolls like a coaster along the McIntyre river bends. It's a quick trip, a fun one - there's no better way to begin your day. That was my route to work...., *fond memories* ...sigh.
If you've got wheels under your seat, (or under your feet), this trail is the one to ride. It would be a beautiful walk, but I haven't walked it since 8th grade at EQ - and people are all over it with dogs and children, so you have to be aware. That's what bike bells are for.
|faces along the trail|
I remember feeling heartbroken when I learned the city was moving the trail that follows McVicar Creek behind the 55+ Centre on River Street. They were cutting down trees. Thankfully I attended the Streamwalk, and heard all about the rehabilitation and conservation that has actually gone into the project - and though a few of my favourite trees are now gone, most remain, like this group standing a little too close to the old trail:
|Along McVicar Creek|
Impressed on my memory are my morning trips down this path. I didn't have a camera back then, but took the time to take it all in, remember it, appreciate it. I knew life would change and I wouldn't always take that route, it was inevitable. I did well though because it's all still there, even the sounds of the songbirds and the way the sun - when still low on the Giant's horizon - would dapple through the trees. I don't even have to close my eyes.
Evenings too are beautiful along this trail, but my memories of evenings aren't just of returning from work; rather all the evenings spent with Hannah when she was young, learning to ride her bike, and inline skating for the first time.
Back then I lived in a location that allowed me to take the recreational trails to work in less time than it took me to drive. I'd ride most of the way with my feet up, with my camera around my neck and a coffee in my hand; I’d arrive relaxed and refreshed.
|between the university and college|
along the McIntyre
|to McIntyre Centre|
along the McIntyre
..and on that note I'm going to take a break.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
|atop a highest hill |
11 September 2011
When I was talking with my mother earlier, making arrangements with her to take Hannah to hockey so that R and I could attend the hike I sent her into a panic with the word "mushroom", which might have been a little over the top, but understandable if you've known someone who has had a severe reaction to eating the wrong mushroom (which she has), or if you've had a severe reaction to eating anything (which I have).
I've never eaten the wrong mushroom though, and I have no intentions to go out picking any to eat anyway - which I reassured her with. I only want to take pictures of them, not eat them. For now I'll leave it to the grocers and farmers to find me my mushrooms. I'm just not that brave or confident with my identification skills (yet).
Dr. Hutchinson had some great suggestions for identification, including having at hand a good guide book. I do have one - the very one he had with him - somewhere around here..., and once I find it I will bring it with me for our next mushroom hike..., after a good rain.
We didn't make it too far down the trail before R and I had to turn back - he had a flight to catch, and I had a hill to climb. While we were there I did manage to find a few fungi to photograph. It was difficult to get too close to Dr. Hutchinson (the group was a little too large in my opinion), and at first I was really enjoying listening to him. He spoke about the different types of mushrooms, how to identify them by spores, and which grow under particular tree species: basically a how to on hunting mushrooms using the forest around you. I'll remember that when we're at the tree farm (one of my favourite mushroom hunting grounds).
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
R's been experimenting with homemade ketchup recipes,
which become experimental barbecue sauce recipes, for testing on our guests invited to Porkfest(s).
I've got salsa plans for the next abundant harvest; and, you know, nothing says welcome home like having our favourite tomato, basil, and feta salad fresh from our backyard since we've returned from Australia.
Garden, you've been tomatolicious this year.
Three weeks ago I saw my first Aussie bees.
|lavender, Barbara's garden|
It was beautiful as it hummed in and out of the blooms below us.
We had been standing on the back balcony, enjoying
(and sharing with the dogs)
some beans that have climbed to balcony floor.
(Any stalks that dared to go beyond that has been chewed loose by a dog.)
We were discussing the garden,
and its future plans,
when the hummingbird flew in to enjoy some scarlet runner blooms and thriving nasturtiums.
I'll take what I can get though, especially the Nasturtiums. They've rambled their way under and through R's newly constructed back deck and make me smile.
|Clifford enjoys a carrot.|
Strangely, our plans are to create even more garden space. There will be less human grass space, which will be fine: I just want some place to sit in clean grass, and smell my garden, not the dogs. Garden photography has been a precarious activity this summer, as the dogs have had free roam while the dog run is under construction (holding all the soil we had delivered in the early summer).
To make way for a much longed for wood fired pizza and bread oven, the Caragana will move to the new garden gate, and face the clean human grass. To make way for the garden gate the Potentilla and oat grass will be removed. Another garden gate and small fence will close off the side of the house and protect the side garden, currently full of blooming foxgloves.