Monday thoughts

Yesterday was perfect. A sunny day for working in the garden. We were creating homes for all the lovely young plants that arrived on the doorstep for Mother's Day - note: two dandelion bouquets on the left flat . And we spent some time re-foresting our clearcut along the road.



It was a delightful day to have a lunch cooked by our own personal chef (in the shape of my bike-riding son) who arrived with swordfish, croissants, mangoes and spinach.



Now today is not so perfect. The rain will make the garden happy; I can knit. I'm now on version #3 of this yellow cardigan. I actually got to the armhole shaping on the first try before I decided the fit wasn't what I wanted and I didn't really like the pattern as much as I had at first.

So, back to the searching and swatching. It's a lot harder when I have the yarn to find a pattern that actually matches the vision I've built up in my mind. You know the one: I'm looking glam in an up-to-the minute style. Reality sets in.



I now have a new vision and it's the Iris Cardigan. So called because what the book calls a 'crown stitch' looks like an iris of an eye (not the flower) to me. But, the yellow works because I love yellow irises and I'm happy to think flowers. Maybe it will even be done by the time the irises bloom in the garden.



And yellow is a good antidote for cloudy skies.

Sunday wonders -H

H is for Handmade...

For those items in our lives that have been created by one person with a love for the craft. The object connects us with the person who created it. We can touch it, hold its weight, caress its shape and imagine the creator. Here are a few of the pieces in our house that connect us with the past.


...the pine cupboard that Anne's father made.


...my favorite bowl, made by Anne during her extensive pottery-making years


...three bears from a time in my life when I needed to hold on to history: one made from an ancient family quilt, one made from a jacket my Dad used to wear and one made from Anne's mom's old Persian lamb coat


...one of Anne's stained glass pieces that had been a gift to an elderly aunt who loved blue and Log Cabin quilts


...a wooden box made by my daughter, a ceramic box made by older son and a little dog fashioned by my younger son. I use the box for buttons and the 'face' for quilting pins. The dog has lost his long, floppy ears but still jauntily cocks his leg. They all make me smile.

Every handmade piece is a moment captured in time. The person who made the item is no longer here. We change as we move through the years. Kids grow up, parents pass on.

Handmade objects preserve a personality, a talent, a passion, a need.

No rest

At some time in the history of this house, the front steps were covered in slate. It's OK but really gives a dated appearance. Watching the home reno shows gives us such ideas!



Over the years, some of the edges have cracked and broken off. Worse, over the last cold winter, water got under those cracked bits, froze and lifted some of the slate pieces. It was just looking pretty shabby.

So, this morning's project was to lift off all the slates and see what it looked like underneath. This is pretty risky since, the deed having been done, there's no going back. But, our intrepid demolition expert got to work.


It's better than expected. We'll have to decide on a resurfacing method since the concrete below is not so pretty. The timing is ideal, though, as we're planning on painting the house. I'm looking forward to a new color and the new look.

The light!

The big trucks came yesterday while we were away and started clearing away the trees and shrubs as promised.



It seemed like such a big job - it was over in just a few hours.

Now we have a huge empty space, tons of bright light and a view of some power lines we didn't know were there. The tall, bare tree is our huge hemlock just before it was cut down.



Tomorrow we'll put in all the replacement plants. I think we'll have to feed them lots of vitamins and cheer them on to grow quickly. What a difference!