on the Silver Islet dock....

I'm getting married in a few weeks. On Leap Year day (is that what it's called?) February 29th. Time chose to take away our choice - but, I have to say I really like this date. It makes my Mom laugh, and I would never dare do anything ordinary. We'll have special reason to celebrate every four years.

I'm trying not to think about everything that's happening all at once, if I did my head might explode. I'm so sad, but feel overwhelmingly loved - there's been so much loss, and planning for loss, and somehow in this I have to find it in me to plan the happiest day. This is very hard. I'm just taking it as it comes - all the emotions, confusion. I didn't enjoy the wine last night, which tells me I've had too much; but I did enjoy the day ...

A drive to Silver Islet seems to be our thing to do when we want to get away without going too far. We went there with cameras as part of our first date and have continued to make the trip so many times over the years, in every season. I love it there - always have.

It was gorgeous yesterday, the sun was so big, the Lake a great cold, choppy teal sea - unfrozen ... The wind chill on the dock was a little more than the -10C when R got down on bended knee. Yep, he did it - the whole proposal on the dock, knee, glistening diamond ring... It was beautiful.

We had a funny conversation last night, as R told me what he had planned on doing for the proposal - something about the Tree Farm and dangling the ring around one of the dog's collars..., ..then we imagined an emergency visit to Dr. S at Northwest ..and a proposal at the vet. Which would have been very "us."
I know it wasn't what R planned, none of this was, but I like the way it all worked out. This was also very "us" ..much better than at the vet..

We've casually talked about getting married forever, we've both felt like we are for what seems like forever. We blended so easily. I suppose if I was the wedding plannery type I might have prodded him a little more. I openly admit to feeling daunted by wedding planning - and after nearly 40 years of successful wedding planning avoidance I am now facing three. How did this happen?
We've discussed putting something together with both our parents in Australia, assuming my Mom would come with us some day. There's the perfect place tucked away in the Jamison Valley rainforest at Scenic World - we found it by accident last summer on our self guided tour between rides on the Scenic Railway - Hannah's most favourite ride of all time. She joked about us wearing bridal gear (gear?) while riding the railway...that would be (will be?) funny.

It was an easy conclusion that a local wedding will not be easy. There is no such thing as a small wedding that includes everyone. What suddenly makes this all a lot easier is that we will have already been married (maybe twice?) by the time we get around to planning anything local, that it should be a breeze.. right?...

For now though, I'm going to try so, so hard not to let the sadness of the situation get to me. This one's personal, emotional, and probably the most meaningful thing I've ever thought of. I'm feeling very exposed.
We posted this on Facebook, of course, 'cause that's what you do. Congratulations were pouring in - still are and it's so strange - lovely - I wonder what they'll all think when we suddenly switch to "married" in a few weeks.
I've tried to tell people privately why we're doing this now, why it's so private, why it's bitter-sweet. The responses make me feel understood. I have great friends.

Vanity is, as always, getting to me. When we first started talking about this - a couple weeks ago, I imagined myself with a little baby bump in a dress. I thought it was perfect... Now there's no bump, and the last thing I feel is pretty - and frankly, you need to feel pretty to try on wedding dresses. I'm hormonal, and my heart's been broken - it shows.
Luckily J, bless her heart, agreed to do some photos (which my mother and sister insist on - which at first I thought wasn't necessary..but realise that yes, they are...). J captures a lot of soul in her photos, and they're always so genuine. Plus our dogs love each other. :)

I do know I would like to carry tulips, which at this time of year should be a simple enough request. That's about the only thing I've ever known about me and a wedding: I like tulip bouquets. The greenhouses here are full of forced bulbs, and I think a little bit of spring is just what we all need right now.

sigh..

February sun

blue skies & cloudy days

Oliver Road
one day and the next

and like that, you're gone

I'm sad for Hannah, that she has to know so much about pregnancy loss. She's only fourteen, and though she's mature enough to be aware and compassionate, she should not have to know all this.

I know she feels like she lost a sibling when Baby M left, and I can only imagine how confused this loss has made her now. She's very stoic, but is willing to talk - at the right times..., which if you know anything about teenagers you know this is quite normal. I'm still learning how to navigate the eye rolls. I know she was scared.

Like anyone, she needs time to absorb all of this and sort out her questions and thoughts. After another weekend of mother drama, early morning ambulances, all of us in tears... I worry that she'll never be able to experience pregnancy like I did with her - blissfully. Every woman deserves at least one of those. I don't want her to be fearful for herself, because this doesn't mean that this will happen to her, god I hope this never happens to her. 

I think, I hope her awareness will give her power as a woman. It's never good to be naive or ignorant, but I think she's already struggling with fears and worry..., I have to turn that around.

I started bleeding early this morning, and after a few hours of intense contraction-like cramps it ended brutally and suddenly. I hurt. I hurt in so many ways, R hurts, Hannah's hurting, and my poor Mom at her end having to worry about me. Me unable to be there for her. 

It's just all so unfair. Did we not deserve to have one thing go our way? Why now? ugh

I'm glad Hannah's going off on a hockey tournament this weekend, I hope she forgets about all this for a while and just lives like a teenager away for a weekend, with all her girls, screaming teenage girls on a bus with blackberries..., she belongs there.

I belong here, alone with "guard dogs" (term used very loosely in this house) and my lousy mood.

blood draws
watching you go away

waiting to miscarry...

I’m miscarrying again. I barely had time to know this pregnancy, spent most of it worrying, barely believing. I wonder: had I believed in it more, would it have stayed?

It’s just so unfair. I found out I was pregnant the same day Helen died, just days after arranging my own mother’s palliative care. With all this loss, I thought sure the universe wouldn’t take our September Baby too. ...but it did.

I get caught up on dates. (Find me a woman trying to conceive (after a loss especially) who isn’t and I’ll show you my flying pig.) My LMP was December 25^th – merry Christmas to me. Little did I know it was the first of the good “sighns” (inside joke). I’ve been feeling good, for the first time in a long time I felt a little hope, and caught myself daydreaming about the what ifs. Ever since the loss of Baby M I avoid thinking of the what ifs, because they hurt too much when they disappear. I shamefully looked up my potential due date, September 30^th...my favourite day.

I love September 30^th. Every year it’s a beautiful day – rain or shine it doesn’t matter, it’s all about the foliage and the lushness of the end of season. The harvest moon, turning leaves still hanging on to trees. It’s my favourite time of year. I would have loved to have a September baby.

That ugly dark cloud of miscarriage hangs over my head now. I’ll never be naively blissful about pregnancy again. I realised that this time around, I cried almost every night. I kept rationalising that the universe wouldn’t be so cruel to have me lose Helen and my Mom AND another baby. Then I wondered if it was the universe’s twisted way to have me lose two loves in order to have one more. Every twinge scared me, every cramp, every feeling. I was running to the bathroom every ten minutes to make sure I wasn’t bleeding.

How unfair I was to this little baby, not believing – having no faith. I don’t know how to escape the cloud. Inside me though, was enough hope to write to Erinn about the midwives, and call Dr. Siren. With all that coming together so smoothly, all the care, I thought surely this was all good. I hoped enough to download two pregnancy apps on my phone, which I deleted immediate upon leaving the hospital Monday morning.

I was so unaware of what can go wrong when I was pregnant with Hannah that I had no worries or fears..., I just watched my belly grow without any question – she was coming, and she did. 

I felt a similar feeling when Baby M first appeared: there was no doubt in my mind that we would have a live baby in a few months time. That old cliché: “miscarriages happen to other people, not me”... naiveté. I thought I was safe at twelve weeks, only to have my world blown apart.

Waiting to miscarry again, knowing that somewhere in me is new life dying – is brutal. I wish I could understand why this had to happen – again, why we couldn’t have had this – now, when we need it most. 

It’s hard to accept that I’m still pregnant, but soon I won’t be. I’m scared.

I could have shared some of this beautiful thing with my Mom before she goes. Why couldn’t we have had just that?

Damn you, universe. 

indoor springtime photos

micro nikkor 60mm
exposure .025s (1/40)
f3.8
one deep breath

In spite of the grey, March-like weather, our kitchen is filling with forced bulbs. A little bit of spring cheer a few months in advance is good for the winter soul.
Also enjoyed by my cameras. As part of my winter project/reading fodder I'm challenging myself to better understand the language of photography. Last year it was to better understand my camera, and use only manual settings, and with that I've come to the end unless I get more lenses and flash. I've decided I'm not as interested in working with raw images and learning more about Photoshop/Lightroom as I am with bettering my skills at taking a photograph that requires no editing. I also want to learn more about flash photography. Most of all, I have to learn how to put to words what I do with my camera.
It's the time of year for forced bulbs - the shops are full of them. I look forward to the photographs to come - which should bring me right up to real spring. :) This one of young crocus bulbs took a number of takes, holding my breath, trying to be as steady as possible. The tripod just doesn't work so well with the micro lens having to be manually focussed. I purposely dribbled water over them, then search for the best droplets. I think some time-lapse crocus blooms are in order. Cheering up the windowsill, the grey day behind doesn't bother me so much.

Garden Trees

 The Gingerbread Project

good morning Nanabijou

the Sleeping Giant + the sun = awesome team!
November 25, 2011

Climate History, Geologically

Of course I'm in favour of green initiatives, environmental conservation, and cleaning up our act. I'm so glad to have watched the recent surge of community gardening from inside a greenhouse, and knee deep in local soil. It's been great. I've been outraged by deforestation, greed at the expense of resources, filth, apathy.

I also believe in science and logic; I can thank my Dad for that, and hours of Quirks & Quarks radio shows together. Politically motivation often ignores science, add that o media hype, and we get hysteria..., and here we are. Geologically, biologically we living in just a blip of this planet's existence (do you remember high school physics?). We've certainly done some damage in that time - there's nothing wrong in trying to turn that around; but the Earth has been both much warmer and much cooler at various times throughout its evolution, this is not new people.

Climate Confusion: How Global Warming Hysteria Leads to Bad Science, Pandering Politicians and Misguided Policies That Hurt the Poor

Roy W. Spencer 

Red Hot Lies: How Global Warming Alarmists Use Threats, Fraud, and Deception to Keep You Misinformed

Christopher C. Horner

R pulled up some stats from Environment Canada last night of temperatures in November during the 1940s. It's too bad older stats aren't more easily available online (I know I can find them at some libraries..), but I don't really need to. I mean, if you're curious go right ahead and look 'em up. It's true - the Earth has experienced some wild weather over the last hmmm, 4+Ga years. (Gosh, that's a long time!)

So, can we just not bother with the nonsense from now on, please. I'd rather talk about greening up our streets with more trees, creating natural parkland in urban centres, community gardens that fuel food banks and teach children, clean food, water, and spaces.

All my life I've been sensitive to toxins, hormones in food, additives, preservatives, dyes, and all other shit pumped into our systems. I was one of those kids who got rashes from the rain, who couldn't eat red candy or orange cheese - which in the 70s was "weird" to most of my friends. Ultimately it's toxic crap that's making me sick today, something from this infectious world. "All natural", "organic" is not a current trend to me, it means something a little more basic than that - and doesn't involve politics or a cool logo.

hello winter

It felt very much like winter yesterday when I wandered down to Vickers Park after a visit to the clinic. Crunchy snow and bright sunlight usually means the air is pretty crisp, and that it was - and it was beautiful!

Vickers Park pano
iPhone 360

Hipstamatic
James M lens, Ina's 69 film

not sure who drew this heart
but it made me smile :)

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Tracks of the elusive 
Snow Basset -
a sure sign that 
winter is here.

I'm happy to see the snow today, the big fluffy flakes. I'm ready for it, ready to feel festive.
Autumn was so beautiful this year and winter has come in gently, but I think those nice bike riding days are over (not that all bike riding days are over). Today's snowfall is also beautiful, and that is real winter cold out there too. Bring it on old man winter!

The garden was blanketed by 9am, making it pretty in a whole new way again.

Dear Garden Diary,

The new garden look enormous compared to our previous dedicated kitchen garden. R moved all the soil, I took the photos and made soup. (I don't know how I keep ending up with this end of the straw...)

Okay, the yellow brick road is a bit much in this doodle, but - like I tried to explain to R, I'm imagining some recycled brick as the border between grass & sunny perennials and garden, in a colour like the Bora Laskin building. A yellow brick road yes, and about a foot and a half wide.

The doodle above will be one of many garden plan doodles from now until the end of winter. So many possibilities. :) I probably could have made more plans the other day when I did this had I not spent so much time putting eyes on the beets and bees in the flowers.

This was the soil we had delivered in..July, I think, from LCR Estates. On a rainy day, in the evening. Must have been right before we left for Oz. R (with Ms help) moved it all in the rain from the drive to the dog run. It's beautiful triple mix, and has already filled the whole west side garden (new this year after having to remove all the rocks and pebbles because a certain dumb Basset kept swallowing pebbles). The vet bills this year far outweighed the gardening bills. 

There is still a large heap left in the dog run, which R plans to move this weekend. I guess I'll take photos and make soup. 

Stoked

Met a dog named Kone today ("snow" in Ojibwe). Walked in blowing snow again, hello winter. Came home to find 1012 Gardening Guide from Stokes Seeds in my mailbox, hello winter reading.

:D

Superior Sunrise

15 November 2011

Saturday at the Market

Belluz Farms

11.11.11

After the Remembrance Day service in Waverly Park I took a walk up to the garden on the ground of the Heritage... where I found peace, love, and the season's first snow. Fitting, and refreshing.

sunflower in the peace garden

red elderberry
in a yard on Regent and Van Norman

Dear Garden Diary,

iGarden
8 November 2011

Yeah, I took this photo using my iPhone, dangling it over the balcony's railing. Dangerous. Earlier yesterday I dangled it over a bridge on May Street. This is why I have to return to using my Nikon for photos, with it's sturdy strap - less likely to slip through my fingers to a watery or pottery death. I've been so distracted with the iPhone photo apps lately that I haven't bothered updating about the garden. These things happen.

Well, we cleaned (R did most all of the gross work) and tucked away pots, preparing for winter the best we can. If we weren't basement hoarders we might have more space to store things. hmm.
R also did all of the digging, creating additional vegetable garden space. There is now three times the space and half the grass lawn. We're definitely putting a yellow brick path in to boarder the grass and perennial garden because we are corny like that. grin. Beyond the mugo pine the potentilla will be taken out and a gate will be put in its place.

This is exactly what happened with my first garden. Over eight years I slowly turned sod into garden. This is only my third season with this yard. Heh heh... We'll always have to have sod in the dog run - and the dogs will have have the run of the "dog forest" to the west of the existing path. It used to be a lovely, kept formal garden with lush grass that could only be manufactured. It was beautiful.
But it wasn't my kind of garden, and I think R feels the same (he grew up with orchards and bees, and did the dogging after all). It's fun to have a productive yard, and we both want to use this new space wisely. We now have the space to properly plant after our over-zealous seedling shopping sprees, we vow not to screw this up. We had more tomatoes than we could handle this year, giving them away from a box on our door step in the end...

I've said it before: our most challenging hurdle (more even than having a Gromit) is leaving the garden at the peek of the season. That's a toughy.., summer vacation time is summer vacation time - and family beckons. In the real world family trumps gardens, so the gardener has to adapt. I'm thinking there has got to be a way of planting around our three week adventure away.

I am so excited to have space for root vegetables in our own backyard. So excited. I think a couple fine brussel sprout plants would fit too. grin.
There's still a heap of triple mix waiting in the dog run to be put into the new garden, some lime, meal, and whatever compost I can come up with. It looks good and wormy already, so we're off to a good start.

Now that it's November, it's time for doodling gardens not digging in them..., taking long baths, settling in for winter. I can't help looking forward to next year, feeling so much better after feeling so off for so long. I didn't even realize how ill I've been until I started feeling better - things like balance: just in the last two weeks, while walking downtown noticing that I feel more steady than I have in years, and my body moves more cooperatively (if that makes any sense). I can breathe a little deeper, sleep a little deeper, think ahead again. It's actually quite remarkable, and a little scary.
Whatever infection that started this all - back in 2009, I'll probably never know..., and honestly I don't even care about knowing anymore. It all makes sense, the culmination of an infection (undoubtedly starting in my kidneys, as per my initial complaint, spreading, finding equilibrium with my immune system, reacting autoimmune: "lingering pathogen") combined with a toxic overload - mold most likely, and god only knows whatever else (Ryan Building). Stress. Miscarriage. Depression.
I won't disregard gardens and greenhouses either, sadly. There's a reason why products get pulled from shelves and tests are run on soil. It could happen to anyone, really, for so many reasons - making it hard to fuss about - unless you plan on living in a bubble, or worse: in fear.

It took two very different approaches to medicine: Western and Eastern, two hemispheres, an acupuncturist from the picturesque Leura Mall, and four local female doctors practicing in four unique healing directions to bring me back. The last month has been like an awakening.

I believe that by the time next spring arrives I'll be back to where I was, maybe even better.


CURRENT MUSIC: Watching the Wheels - John Lennon

Hipstamatic Tree

(one of ) my favourite tree(s)
PACI, Waverly Hill
30 October 2011

iBlog

With my new iPhone I can garden blog on the go with the Blogger app. Sweet.

iPhone camera foxgloves:

Dear Garden Diary,

Today is a foggy, autumn day in Thunder Bay.
All the leaves that were on the trees last week are now blanketing our garden, the streets, and sidewalks - I hear people crunching by as I type with mittens up above on this lovely balcony.

Below me, the front garden is on fire with colour. The cotoneaster is a rainbow of reds, oranges, and green - with little black berries speckled all over.
The elder is a popping shade of lime with other greens of hostas and lungwort - even the yellowed, hostas add some flare to the canvas.

In the backyard, the sumac is also wildly aglow.

a tree in the churchyard below
across the street

This year it seems Autumn has been particularly vibrant and long lasting. The colours everywhere are incredible - I'm happy I've enjoyed so much, soaking it all in from my balcony perches, trail rides, Sunday drives, and tree farms.

a Sunday drive on the Sleeping Giant
to Silver Islet in September

Indian Summer

It was a beautiful ride along the trails this morning. Even though it seems most of the leaves have fallen (so many are on the ground, blowing down our street) there are still a few trees hanging on to their colour, which are stunning.

There was some debate over the Willow Springs bird's face at the the TBAG, with some thinking it was a little creepy. Personally, I think it's charming. The face, to me, is something out of a Grimm novel, full of character. I can only imagine the things that go on there when nobody's looking.

 On the way home, a stop at the farmer's market on Memorial: with pumpkins galore,

and apples for cider, and apples for pie, apples for crumble, apples for caramel...

Eggplant (I don't really like to eat eggplant,
but I like to grow them because they're very photogenic).

I wish these days would last a little bit longer. ...

The Autumn

Autumn is upon us, and from the back balcony toward the Great Lake I can see a vibrant Mountain Ash celebrating the season. To think: this is downtown.

The tree tops all around me are gorgeous - from the front balcony it's a blaze of oranges and yellows, with some left on the trees and the rest lining the curbs of the street. There are a few trees in town I'd like to stalk for the coming week, to capture them in full glory. 

 The recreational trails are so beautiful this time of year,

even my cruiser couldn't resist a little off-roading.

my favourite TBay tree in Autumn
Oliver Road
2 October 2011

yellow brick road

4 October 2011

While enjoying my morning mug of coffee on the back balcony this morning, a new plan for the garden came to me. Rethinking the proximity of the dog run to the vegetables, as well as sun exposure, I simplified the plan by bringing the new vegetable garden toward the house, next to the current kitchen garden. My previous plan seems ridiculous to me now, and complicated. I don't know why this didn't come to me in the first place.

In the new plan the fence is simplified - the whole east side of the garden, deck & Barbecue Central included, will be fenced off with two gates: one to the path to the vegetable gardens, deck and barbecues, the other to the clean, dog-free grass. When the dogs are being well behaved (ha ha) they will be able to join us on the grass, or R at the barbecues, maybe even nibble on a cherry tomato or two...but otherwise will have nowhere to go but through their forest and to the dog run at the back of the yard.

A little bit of mulch around the edge of the path to keep from overcrowding the walkway, and along the fence, to keep it neat (perhaps a few dainty sweet peas along the fence each year, keep it simple). To separate the vegetable garden from the grass and the sunny perennials: a brick path. I've always loved the look of a reclaimed brick path in the garden. Why not in yellow brick... ?

Years ago, before satellite radio at the greenhouse, there was a CD player. Every CD I created for us to listen to had a recording of Somewhere Over the Rainbow; it became expected. From Mary Lou Williams in Montreal, to Art Tatum, Dick Hyman, Stanley Jordan, to Chucho Valdez - I still have them all in an SOTR folder. How fitting that I meet a man who takes a yellow brick road home to Oz each year, and together we aim to reconcile our love for dogs and gardens in a small downtown plot. I'm sure we can find some yellow brick at the ReStore.

If we do that, I'm definitely going to have to find some Narcissus 'Lemon Drops' for the garden.