Piecing Together a Perfect Vista

It can take many years to create true artistry, and as I contemplate our deck looking over the mighty Trent River it occurs to me how much time will be saved when most of the work has already been accomplished naturally. What are the buzz words now? Organic, authentic, genuine.....all of them spring to mind as I look past the worn out deck. Thankfully, the masters are at work now, extending the deck and installing more spots to plop my window boxes....because when the canvas is this pretty, a few colourful window boxes are the only brushstrokes needed.

The Street In Front Of Me....

It's taken awhile to get used to this view out my office window, especially now that it's a main route for fisher folk - but I've got to admit I'm loving it. I just wish I could say the same for our pooches. They do NOT like fisher folk, or interloping dogs or kayakers....but they do like turtles, beavers, swans and geese....not a peep comes out of them when the natural neighbours travel by. Who can make sense of dog logic...

Tiny Lives

Just outside our front door lives this little nest with these little eggs....the teeniest, tiniest eggs I've ever seen...no bigger than a fingernail. I wonder what kind of bird laid them? Do you know? I'll have to keep an eye out and hope our cats don't see it first.

Going, Going.....Gone!

So....these big black dogs frequently wander over from a few houses away. They come by way of the big puddle in front of us and they stay just long enough to leave their, uh, mark on our grass. This day, Nigel the canoodling schnoodle took time away from perpetual sucking up to chase away these mammoth beasts. He came at them like a blast of buckshot and scared the &#$* out of them. Actually, he scared the said &#$* back into them, cuz when the fracas was finished, our lawn was clean. Good dog, Nigel... good little warrior.

Ode to an Original

I'm in the middle of writing a magazine story about recently deceased Canadian film critic, Gerald Pratley, and at this mid-point in his story, I have never felt luckier. Lucky to be a writer. Lucky to channel one man's driven spirit, stir it up with professional accolades, pull back the discretionary cloak of personal failures and dip into healthy doses of glamour. I feel him with me. Yes, that's corny, but very true. He once lived in my house after I'd moved on. He called me to tell me that he felt my presence there. I can now say the same. I just can't call him.

Looking at Life through Rose Coloured Geraniums

This is our first spring/summer in our wee river abode, and it's become abundantly clear that very little floral landscaping is required. The fact that the window box matches the tree is as contrived as I will allow. The lush green grass and trees....the water dancing with wildlife - far better than I can buy in a box at a garden centre. The other side of the house though...is garden centre ready. We've already packed in new emerald cedars, found some long forgotten peony bushes, sorted the lavender and we just keep layer and layering. Flowers at the front, river at the back. Picture perfect.

Retrospective

My guess is that Nigel's mother was one worn out apricot poodle and his dad was....not. No matter, he's home now and we are one when we swing on the hammock...The day after Mother's Day means so many different things - a tear for the mom who is gone, loving the kidlets who are here....and Nigel. What did your Mother's Day mean?

Afloat on Mother's /Day

Offspring come in many forms.....one is legitimate. She is my daughter. I made her. The one with the curls? Well, I didn't make him, but now he's mine...and he's lovely. Mother's Day used to be all happy all the time, but since my mom is no longer here, it takes on a melancholy moment or two....until I look into the soulful eyes of my....offspring. Boom Boom.

Somewhere Over The River.....

Magic can happen anywhere. Looking out the living room window, for example. After a winter that would not end, it was as if the powers that be threw an apology our way in the form of a glorious rainbow.
Last summer, Rob and I were driving towards a rainbow north of here...we got closer and closer and we were sure it would back up but it didn't. We drove through the ribbons of colours. We did. No drugs. It was real....and it was amazing.