The sun still rises, light sparkles
Joy is found.
It’s been cold in the morning this week. While getting dressed I decided that it was time to put the sandals away and go for closed shoes and socks. I haven’t hauled all my winter clothes out of the trunk yet; so pickings were slim. I decided on jeans, tee-shirt and sweater. When I checked the sock drawer, I found a nice new pair of purples socks. They matched my tee-shirt and picked up one of the colours of the sweater. Perfect! never thought another thing about it, until I got to work and a co-worker said OMG you are wearing purple socks, I love it. Do you know the meaning of purple socks? I shook my head. She immediately Googled it. I never knew that your sock colour had a meaning. And a deep meaning. Somehow purple socks are equated with the story “Harriet the Spy. A boy character wore them.”The Boy with the Purple Socks as a kid in Harriet’s class who was so boring no one ever bothered to learn his name. 
“Whoever heard of purple socks?” Harriet wonders in Chapter 2. “She figured it was lucky he wore them; otherwise no one would have even known he was there at all.” He later tells his classmates that his mother wanted him to dress completely in purple so he would stand out in a crowd but he refused to comply, except for the socks. And, as it turns out, the purple socks do make him stand out in a crowd, not to the masses but to a smaller group of kindred spirits. He also stands out to readers in the gay community, for whom the color purple has symbolic meaning.” http://purple-socks.webmage.com/socks.htm
I haven’t read Harriet the Spy since my daughter was young. I’m sure my granddaughter will read it. I don’t know if they have or will relate to the meaning of the purple socks. I am just amazed that an idle piece of clothing can have as much meaning as the coloured ribbons we wear to show our causes on our sleeves or wrists. The pink for breast cancer or the yellow for Lance Armstrong’s Live Strong. It certainly won’t make me change my dressing choices. I love colour and wear it constantly. Colour makes me feel good. I am not a black and white person. I wonder what other coloured pieces of clothing mean? It will be interesting to find out. I am just glad my purple socks gave someone a lift and a laugh today. Colour does that.
This gallery contains 7 photos.
Just hanging out for my viewing pleasure. Moments that make me smile.
I seem to be spending an inordinate amount of time with old men and hospitals these days.
My very good friend Paul should have died years ago. He has a heart condition and now he has terminal prostate cancer. He is receiving palliative care at home. He always says he is doing fantastic, and I believe he is. There is something about facing mortality that really puts you in the present moment. Paul has had a very interesting life. These days he restores antique ceremonial Japanese swords and daggers and has a market all over the world. He has a beautiful organic garden, is a great cook who has taken up: roasting coffee beans, making delicious homemade ice cream and using a dehydrator to preserve his garden’s bounty. He gets tired easily but is always so grateful for the time I spend with him. I have not been working this summer so have had time to take him to his doctor and hospital appointments. He likes to go with me because I am not in a hurry and we can take time to explore other things like the farmer’s market or the flea market.
My husband turned 64 a couple of weeks ago and it seems that he has gotten old before my eyes. It started with a sore knee and he now has a booking with an orthopedic surgeon. He went to the optometrist to have his eyes checked and was immediately booked for laser surgery. He had a condition with his eyes that could cause him to go blind within a couple of hours if it wasn’t corrected. To top it off he lifted a very large pot of chili at the pow wow and got a hernia and had to go to emergency. A few weeks ago we were making plans to redo the garage and now he can’t lift a thing until he has corrective surgery for the hernia.
My oldest dog B for some reason decided he didn’t want to be in the back of the truck with five golden retriever girls and jumped out while the truck was backing up. He got hit in the head with the trailer hitch. He is now blind in his left eye. A very quick trip to the vet. It looked much worse than it was. No brain damage.
Sylvester, our 15-year-old cat is starting to show his age and falls asleep in the funniest places. Sometimes right in front of his food dish.
It’s interesting, all this aging doesn’t make me think of death. It makes me think of living, today.
Posted in Archived
Been working hard in the garden after all this rain, trying to get the side yard weeded and mulched. It has been left too long and the weeds have been prolific. Even Sparkle is dwarfed.
I got the sweet grass beds weeded and we should be able to start harvesting and making braids soon. We covered three of the raised beds in newspaper and a layer of landscaping cloth and then covered it in our beautiful new bark mulch. In the 11 years we have lived here we have lost over 100 trees to pine beetle, spruce bud worm, age and the elements, namely the wind. Finally got them all bucked up and the scraps mulched in a chipper. It smells beautiful. Perfect for keeping the weeds down. I loaded all the weeds in a wheelbarrow to take them to the compost box in the goat yard.
Hard Working Farmer
Nibbles thought it was a wonderful snack. How organic, into him and out the other end as fertilizer.
We try hard to keep the land as natural as possible. No herbicides or pesticides and we have only native plants, except for a few annuals in my flower baskets. The rest of the garden is in perennials that will survive our cold zone 3.
I do take exception to burdock because they have thistle-like flowers that get stuck in the dog’s fur but I now just weed eat them down on a regular basis. I got out my Plants of the Southern Interior to check to see that everything I had left around the beds was native and not an interloper that had blown in on some coastal friend shoes.
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I flipped by Thimbleberry (rubus parviflorus) in the book and started reading. It is native to this area and was used by the aboriginals to eat when found. The berries are not prolific and they can’t be dried or kept in grease like raspberries but the leaves were prized for lining baskets and the young shoots were used for eating raw and stews. The use that surprised me the most was that it makes an excellent biodegradable toilet paper. So next time you are hiking in the southern interior of BC, don’t worry if you need to go in the bush. Just find a thimble berry bush.
The birds are looking forward to the Saskatoon berries ripening.
Oh, yes and it’s been snowing cottonwood.
“There are no extra pieces in the universe. Everyone is here because he or she has a place to fill, and every piece must fit itself into the big jigsaw puzzle”
Deepak Chopra
Two things I really enjoy: one is the sound of water moving and the other is looking at and picking up rocks. I live by a lake and have a beautiful rushing creek running through the back side of our acreage. It is so peaceful to sit on the back deck and listen to the creek and the birds. I also enjoy the front of our house because that is where my beautiful garden is and I spend quite a bit of time out there working. When I lived at the coast I had a massive in ground fish pond surrounded by lush west coast landscaping; bamboo, rhododendrons, azalea,roses, magnolias etc. It was filled by friendly, happy koi. None of that works here.
My husband think I should have been happy with the creek, and I am. I just wanted the sound and beauty of a pond in the front. I found and old pond liner and decided my mountain pond would become a reality. I couldn’t put it in the ground as it is rigid and would crack in the -30 C winters. I decided above ground would do but how could I make it look interesting, keep the cats out yet make it safe for the dogs who like to drink from it and wash their dirty tennis balls in it.
Rock-harvesting
One thing we have here in the mountains is an ample supply of rocks. More get delivered every year or so from the gravel truck who dumps his load on the driveway. I also have a large collection of, in my opinion, pretty rocks that I have picked up on my hikes.
My helper
One of my favourite hikes with the dogs is along a dyke that was built from soil moved from Agate Bay and after a fresh rain you can usually find unborn agates poking up.
I priced out brick and Allan blocks to surround the pond, way to expensive. then one day it dawned on me. I would use all those rocks to build the surround. Every day I would add a layer. It was kinda like figuring out a puzzle. What would fit where to build the little wall. How to place them so they wouldn’t fall. It became a very mindful yet relaxing exercise. If I found a new interesting rock I would add it as well, friends started bringing me rocks. None of the rocks are cemented so we have to be careful not to kick or bump into the pond, or else they all come tumbling down. Another great exercise in mindfulness. I never get upset if someone knocks the rocks down, I just let them put it back together again. Everyone loves it. It can be a solitary or group activity. The only ones who haven’t knocked any rocks down are the dogs.
While meditating next to the pond it always makes me think of how things change in an instance and how we all fit into this puzzle.
For those who enjoyed the pictures of the horses on Schiedam Flats I have uploaded three short videos to YouTube.
Posted in Archived
Nothing enunciates or brings to life change more than moving from season to season; especially from winter to spring. Here in the grasslands winter has not given up its frigid embrace quite yet. There are signs though: birds are returning, seeds are quietly germinating underground and roots are awakening, calves are being born in the dark of night in cold pastures, the weather moves from sun, to sleet to hail and back again, constantly keeping us on our toes. We must be careful not to expect the joyous homecoming of warmth and new growth just yet. 
Nature cleaves to her own schedule, not ours. The feral, Indian horses of Schiedam Flats have moved down from the hills, looking for the signs of forage on the grasslands. Last year there were many new foals and old friends who spent many summer days entertaining the observers who stopped their cars to visit. It will be exciting to see what this spring brings.
Just as nature moves at her own pace, so must we. Contemplating shedding my woolly winter coat and opening up to germinating in the warmth of the sun. Changes happens with every breath.
Posted in Archived
“Remember that a
man’sgrandma’s name is tohimher the sweetest and most important sound in theEnglishany language.”
Dale Carnegie
I have been called many things in my life. I was named Melodie because my oldest sister wanted to name her first baby girl Melodie. I was born very late in my parents life and I am sure my mom was so surprised that she hadn’t the foggiest idea what to name me. My oldest sister had a baby boy the next year. I have always loved my name because it was different and even spelled in an unusual way. My nieces and nephews as well as a younger sister that quickly piled up after me could not say Melodie and I was called Nonie for a long time.
People like to shorten names and even though I sign my name Melodie and introduce myself as Melodie certain people call me Mel. It’s annoying but I have learned to live with it.
When my first grandchild was born I thought that maybe I would like her to call me Nonie. I didn’t see myself as grandma. My daughter married an Italian and his parents would be called Nona and Nono. My daughter thought that might be confusing so she proposed Mimi. I loved it! It suited my sensibility and tickled my funny bone. Perfect for the grandmother I hoped to be.
It was easy for Giorgia (Gigi) to say. So Gigi and Mimi became inseparable. After Giorgia came her brother Gianluca and then my son’s daughter Stella. Mimi’s world expanded exponentially.
When Giorgia now almost 6 and no longer Gigi says Mimi, I know it will be an exciting conversation; full of all the things she is learning. It will be about her art, her dance, her music or the joy of kindergarten. It will be Mimi…did you know….? I will be enthralled.
Gianluca not quite 2 thinks I live in my iPhone. This is where we communicate the most. He loves to just pick up his mom’s phone and say “haaallo MIMI! I lub you! I am thrilled to get his messages and just imagine his mischievous face.
Bless today’s technology.
Stella 10 1/2 months said Mimi to me for the first time today. My heart melted. My daughter in law taught it to her this week. Best present ever. (note to daughter in-laws)
No matter what others call me, knowing that my name is spoken in love by those I cherish the most is all that matters. May I live up to Mimi!
Posted in Archived
I felt so sorry for you last weekend. Staring through the fence, looking up at the window; not understanding why you can’t be part of the pack. All your companions are gone. Your mom,your two sisters and your grandmother, who just died. You came here as a baby, rescued due to animal cruelty.
You have been part of our life for 9 years now. The next year your twin sisters were born. Wasn’t that exciting! Being amateur in goat husbandry, we had no idea you would impregnate your mom. We couldn’t have you neutered as your case was still before the court.
Later the next year we added a rescued pig, chickens, cats, rabbits and duck. Now there is only Cinderella the duck and you left. Cinderella was a rescue from the fires of 2003. Found wandering down the road she was burnt and missing all her feathers. Why she is still alive I have no idea. How long do ducks live?
We moved here to raise and breed our dogs. We have watched many of them pass over as well. We have lost numerous cats, all the rabbits, and Sophie the pig. The sadness is sometimes too great.
What shall I do for you or for me? I know that nothing lasts forever; only as long as creator wills. I know that everything is here for a reason.
Shall we go rescue some new friends?
Posted in Archived, ordinary miracles
Amazed With Mystery 