Musings after Christmas

Today finds me enjoying the Christmas vacation down time, no school buses to watch for or 6 a.m alarm, lovely to be lazy for a while. My son is having fun blasting at monsters or aliens, whatever, in the much coveted Unreal Tournament Sony game that topped his Christmas wish list. I've been out to pick up the mail - we're lucky enough to have our own mailbox - Dad's gift still hasn't come, and I'm expecting a card from an old friend in England not heard from yet this year. The wind is icy today, though it's only around zero (celsius) it feels a lot colder. More snow on the way if the the weather report is right, and the grey skies suggest it is, just looked out the window and flurries are starting to come down.

Yesterday at my sister's place, five deer spent a good part of the day grazing between the woods and her bedroom windows, pretty much at home there. She enjoys them now, not so much when gardening time comes around. Here at my place, there are what you could call physical signs deer have been hanging around under the bird feeder on the apple tree, but it's been when it was too dark to see them.

We had a peaceful Christmas, much enhanced by being able to gather around the fireplace at my sister's home after a very nice dinner. There is something enchanting about curling up in front of a wood fire and watching the flames dance. To keep my mood peaceful, I tend not to watch the news for a few days - usually avoid it on Christmas and Boxing Day, helps a lot.

Today I was saddened and angered by the news that Benazir Bhutto's enemies have managed to eliminate the woman who offered some hope for a democratic future for Pakistan. Not a good omen for the future, and a sad loss for her family. Having been active in Amnesty International in the past, I've met many leaders who fight for their people and I admire their courage. May she go in peace.

Meditations on December

Here we are in the countdown to Christmas and I wonder if someone else out there may have the December blues. Mostly, I love the holiday, the lights, the snow, the music, the turkey and pie and the family get-together.

But....I just turned fifty-five and my youngest son is sixteen, and old friends are far away these days, and the holiday always brings the wish, fierce at times, that my oldest, Jamie, could have been around to come home and share it with us. As a teen, he used to pretend to dislike the fuss and go around saying "Bah, humbug!!"

He was a bit of an anarchist and genuinely hated the gap between rich and poor that Christmas highlights with such cheerfully cruel clarity. In a perfect world, money or lack of it would not determine who has a good meal and presents under a tree. Still, for all that, he loved his niece and nephew, his grandparents, shortbread cookies, turkey dinner and good music.

He would try to call home around Christmas from Victoria, the city by the sea where he spent his last years. Always asking after Nanny and Grampie, pretending things were ok with him. Later, after we lost him, I found out he'd been among those on the streets, one of the addicted and lost who get Christmas dinner at the Salvation Army or another charity. It's not what any mother wishes for, is it? Taking a wreath to the cemetery means a lot, but how I wish he could join us for one more celebration.

Still, when the family gathers by the fireplace, there will be good cheer and laughter and pretty tree lights after dinner. When we toast "the ones with us and gone" he's one of those who will be in the family's thoughts this holiday.

As I write this, Gregorian chant fills the room with beauty and melancholy. If he were here, he'd tell me to put on some music to liven things up - Stevie Ray Vaughn or the Grateful Dead - and I will celebrate, to honour his memory too.

Merry Christmas to you and yours, whoever and wherever you are.

Kicking off the Christmas Season

I wonder if anyone else feels that Christmas has crept up from behind while they weren't looking. Wasn't it only yesterday that autumn was lingering for weeks? It only became cold enough to seem like winter in the past week, and there's been more rain than snow so far. So it came as a surprise to get out for a drive after dark and find that many of my neighbours have lights indoors and out, Christmas decorations up, even a few Christmas trees up. And it's not December until tomorrow!!

Around here, the season includes suppers and craft sales, so it was fun to get out and work with my sister at her bookshop sale table in one of the towns nearby. Children's books, craft kits and lovely handmade comforters are nice enough to sell themselves at times, and everyone who reads loves talking about favourite children's books. It's lovely to have family members with the talent to create crafts as I am not gifted that way myself, but love the handcrafted things.

A look into the stores is a bit depressing, with tons of plastic junk from China and aisles of gender divided toys. The all pink aisle for girls and the camouflage soldier stuff for boys make me feel a bit down - does nothing ever change?

On the plus side, there are two weeks of no school coming up, and my son looks forward to that as do I. No alarm at six in the morning will be a welcome break. It's often still a bit dark when he goes out to wait for the bus. Yesterday he startled a deer when he went out, heard hoofbeats thumping down the wood path across the road, a favourite hangout for the whitetails. Other than crows, the birds haven't been around much lately. Perhaps waiting for me to get out shopping for a new bag of birdseed for the feeder.

In spite of it all, I do like the holiday season and look forward to more family time. I have begun to decorate in my own small way, put a very nice fir wreath with bits of pine and cedar up on my front door today. It's the real thing, not plastic, and handmade too, by my sister, not by me. I added the red bows, as Martha Stewart as I'm about to get. Later there will be another wreath for the cemetery, remembering other Christmases when all of us could be together. And so it goes on the island as we move into December.

Remembering a Lost Fisherman

This has been a sad week for our community. Last Tuesday the lobster fishing season kicked off. It's a dangerous time for those who work at earning a living from the sea, winter's coming, the seas are rough and heavy winds are frequent.
On the first day, everyone is out at daylight with boats loaded with as many lobster traps as they can carry, all have to be set out to claim their area for the whole season. Because of this, the Dept. of Fisheries delays the opening when the weather is too rough, but a fisherman's life cannot be completely safe by its very nature.
This time one boat didn't make it through that first day, foundered in rough seas with engine trouble. Her captain and three crew ended up in the ocean when the boat went down.

It happens in minutes, and it's everyone's worst nightmare. The three crewmen survived, but the captain didn't make it. The funeral mass was this afternoon, on another windy day when the boats are out there, traps being pulled, baited, and put back in the still rough waters. The captain was my age and his son goes to the same school as mine. A dark time for his family.

My sister's husband, also a lobster fisherman, is out working those same waters. My nephew is trying it this year for the first time. For the rest of the season, we'll all be sending our prayers and thoughts to the family of that lost fisherman. Many families will be waiting and watching, checking the weather and the wind, until the last boat comes into harbour and ties up safely for each night. Many a silent prayer will be said each morning as the boats set out to sea for another long, long day.

They that go down to the sea in ships; and occupy their business in
great waters, these men see the works of the Lord: and his wonders in the deep.

Remembrance Day Weekend

A cold Friday, hints of winter to come in the raw wind this morning. The cooler days seem to bring the birds out, so I refilled the feeder under the apple tree. Didn't take long for the black-capped chickadees and red-breasted nuthatches that are the most common visitors to tuck in, though the pesky crows also soon discovered the sunflower seeds and had to be shouted at if anyone else was to get anything. They like to shake the feeder until all the seeds fall on the ground, not satisfied with their daily ration of dry bread and overcooked toast crusts. Heard a tap-tap-tap in the stand of old dead trees behind the shed, and there was a hairy woodpecker hacking away at the tree trunk, tearing off bits of bark in great enthusiasm.

Finally have most of the garden prepared for winter, just the butterfly bush and one Autumn Joy sedum left to cut back. Took quite a while to trim down the bee balm as it has spread into a major player in my herb garden. Several years ago I planted bee balm, tansy, chives and thyme into a small bed that is built into what we call the stone patio. It's really an area of patio stones framed by squared off logs (the wood is rotting away) with a concrete type of table and half circle benches. Looks a bit like an ancient ruin -- if you don't look too closely. It makes a nice spot for setting out containers of sun lovers, gets very hot on summer days and has no shade at all. This summer cherry tomatoes, portulaca, basil and summer savoury did very well out there, along with lemon gem marigolds. Love the gem marigolds, they last well into the fall and are so bright and cheerful.

Listening to CBC radio today and some programs have begun Remembrance Day related music and interviews. A regular and excellent radio drama I'm hooked on is part of Friday mornings -if you can get CBC listen for "Afghanada". I've been affiliated with the peace movement in the past and still believe in our goals, but I also honour and respect our veterans past and present. My Uncle Frank served in WWII and I always think of him at this time of year though he's been gone a long time now. I have a yellow ribbon tied to the cedar hedge by the road, and every time I look at it I think of the families who know their dear ones will never come home. My prayers and thoughts go out to our people in Afghanistan and those they mean to help. Tough world to figure out sometimes, most folk are doing the best they can to get by. The little things - a sunny day, a smile, a friendly greeting - they help us all through this world of ours.

Frogs, Mice and Rain - after Hurricane Noel

Well, the hurricane passed over us on the weekend, lots and lots of heavy rain and wind, but no damage except some old dead trees out back. We got lucky, as other areas were hit with power lines down and very wild winds. Next day was beautiful, sunshine and fairly warm breezes. After the time change I'm still feeling a bit disoriented trying to adjust. Hate the dark creeping up so early in the afternoon, makes the night seem longer somehow.

Last night I opened the cellar door to move some things and saw something hop away from the light. At first I took it for a mouse - I've met them down there before - but a good look showed me a fair sized leopard frog. Given the damp condition down there after all that rain, he probably mistook the puddles for a pond. Live and let live, so I left him there. He'll be okay, no problem getting out if he wants to - old houses have lots of secret paths for small creatures.

That brings me to a bit of excitement at about 2:30 this morning, when the cat leaped out of bed and ran downstairs. I sort of woke up, thinking he'd spotted his nemesis, a black stray that wanders around our place sometimes. A little while later, he hopped back into bed but kept jumping around. That's when I really woke up, realizing he'd once again bagged a rodent. Last winter he set a record one night catching three moles in about an hour. Why is it always in the wee hours? Ugh!!! I grabbed him up, dead mouse firmly gripped in his mouth while he growled at me (he knows I steal them). Out to the porch, door slammed on him while I watch out the window and look for heavy gloves and a container for disposing of the body. Yucch!!

Then I see him drop and grab and realize it's a worst case scenario - the mouse is not dead but faking. So I distract him, grab his ears a bit, drop mouse into plastic dish and jump outside with it. Check it over for damage, seems more scared that hurt, a lucky one this time so off he goes out behind the shed into the blackberry bushes for shelter. Hope he made it, unless they're hopeless I can't bear to do away with them and just wish they'd stay out of the house. You'd think cat smell would keep them at bay, but not here, oh no!! Hopeless cases get dispatched as humanely as possible by my son, but we've been lucky, only one like that. Usually they're totally dead, the cat just likes to toss the bodies around in my bed. It's better that an alarm for getting you up, I'll say that for it.

This afternoon is dark and rainy, with wind whipping the rain from the east almost as fiercely as the hurricane/tropical storm Noel. Looks like we're in for "a dark and stormy night." Here's hoping the mice stay tucked away in their beds.

Waiting for Hurricane Noel

On a beautiful fall day, it's hard to believe a wicked storm is coming, but the weatherman tells us Hurricane Noel is on its way to the Atlantic provinces after wreaking havoc all over the Caribbean. Lots of rain and wind to come, so today I've been gathering up lawn chairs, flower pots, big plastic totes (I'll explain those later), in short whatever's not nailed down. Now everything is more or less secure (I hope) in the rather aged and rickety old shed out back. It has a leaky roof and a door that won't shut all the way, but at least things can't blow around and break windows. We often get tail end hurricanes here, being on the coast, and past experience tells me it's best to have water bottled up and buckets in the tub in case of power outages. We may get off easy this time, but with the prospect of 100 km. winds and lots of rain, better safe than sorry.

About the totes - here on our island big, heavy duty plastic boxes are used in the fishery, and they are also great for a lot of gardening chores, from gathering leaves to using as planters. A lot are made with pre-drilled holes and make sturdy, if not elegant, tomato containers.

While I love living away from the city, there are drawbacks to rural life. Yesterday was a case in point. About twice a month, it is necessary to trek to the mainland for grocery shopping, library visits, drugstore necessaries, etc. I say trek advisedly, as usually my mum and I go with my sister and it's really an expedition. We all read a lot, so three or more heavy bags of books, several coolers for meat, milk, etc. are all piled in with bags of groceries. Not squashing the bread and not mixing up our bags is like a game, & it's a rare trip that someone doesn't get the wrong bag.

On the plus side, the trip includes a scenic ferry ride. Yesterday the wind was high, the sea a bit rough, but the view was lovely. Under grey skies, flocks of black & white ducks (probably old squaws) took off in unison over the water, a loon bobbed in the surf close to a rocky beach, and black-backed gulls cried out overhead. Back home on the island, we drove past a yard near Dad's home where two yearling deer looked up casually and then went back to grazing. They likely belong to the family of the big doe who visited Dad's garden and devoured his tomatoes a month ago. They're a nuisance, but I wish them safe till hunting season is over.

While I scrambled around the yard cleaning up this morning, I looked to the west and saw two bald eagles flying high above the trees, where from their vantage point they look down on the cove. They fly in slow circles, the adults confident, the immature less adept and using their wings a lot more often.

On such a day of golden trees and crystal blue sky, it's sad to think of four young men who died in a car crash in this province recently, the second such accident this fall. Two were the age of my own boy. My heart aches for them and for their families, knowing what's ahead of them. At times like that, my thoughts go to my firstborn son. Looking at the beauties of each day, I remember him and wish he were still with us to enjoy them. We lost him seven years ago when he was 29, and he was laid to rest not far from here, in a peaceful cemetery near the sea and the woods. I know it's a long road those families face from here, and my prayers & best wishes are with them. At the worst of times, there is still comfort in the rhythms of the natural world.

Rachel Carson has a quote that I've always loved,

Those who contemplate the beauty of the earth find reserves of strength that will endure as long as life lasts. There is something infinitely healing in the repeated refrains of nature -- the assurance that dawn comes after night, and spring after winter.

Welcome to the Homely House Journal

Welcome to my journal. I live in a country setting that is wonderful for nature watchers and decided to have a go at sharing it. My home is an old house just big enough for two (sometimes not quite as my teenage son likes music that I don't, but we manage.) It's near where I grew up and I moved back here after years of city living. The house is set in a big yard surrounded by woods and fields. My 80-year old father remembers when this place had working pastures and a big apple orchard. There are still old apple trees on a path to the wood and you can hear the deer out there on summer nights. Wild turkeys, songbirds, bald eagles, coyotes and deer are a few of the wildlife characters that share our space.

It's October 31st, Hallowe'en, and we've just had our first hard frost. After a lovely Indian summer, autumn has arrived and I have to finish putting the garden to bed. At sunrise, the light shimmered through a faint mist, lighting sparkles on the silvered grass and frosted flowers. Chickadees darted back and forth from the apple trees and the woods while juncos nibbled away at dandelion puffs. A song sparrow strolled around on the shed roof. In a patch of sun warming the pine kitchen table, the cat made himself comfortable as a centrepiece until I shooed him off. Sometimes he looks so pretty and contented, black and white fur backlit by sunshine, I pretend not to see him there. He keeps me company all day while my son is at school. After years of lesson planning and research for homeschool, it seems funny not to have to plan curriculum and organize a school year.

I hope to renew rusty writing skills by doing this journal and welcome readers who enjoy nature and the quiet life to enjoy it with me.