Rainy daisy.
Category Archives: Country life
Civics lesson
June is election month here in Ontario, so we decided it was a good time to hoist the provincial flag for the first time.
We picked up this flag at Value Village a few months ago. As you’ve seen before, we have a bit of a thing for flags, so it was neat to do some research into Ontario’s flag, which I actually didn’t know very much about.
Ontario’s flag is very British.
“It was traditional for jurisdictions around the world with a British system of government and way of life to adapt either a blue or red ensign as a flag, by adding the local coat of arms or some other symbol.” (Wikipedia)
The Red Ensign is a red flag with a small Union Jack in the upper left corner. For Ontario’s version, the local symbol is the provincial shield of arms.
“The shield of arms… consists of three golden maple leaves, representing Canada, on a green background.” At the top of the shield is the Cross of St. George. Many of the British loyalists who left the US during the American revolution came to Ontario. They were loyal to King George III, hence St. George’s Cross. (Wikipedia)
Leaving aside the history lesson to look to the future, I want to encourage my Ontario readers to please vote. Election day is tomorrow, June 12. Voting is truly important.
Magic beans
My husband is now known as Matt of the beanstalk. Or at least Matt of the magic beans. We have a little ways to go until we have actual stalks.
Our fields have been planted with soybeans this year. After tilling the soil, our farmer spread these little turquoise seeds.
After a night of rain, they shifted from round beads to a shape more resembling beans.
Then the beans split.
And now, a week after planting, a few sprouts have begun coming up through the soil.
Fee-fie-foe-fum. Fields of beans, here we come.
Has anyone out there grown soybeans? Or seen them in your area? Are you planting any new plants in your garden this year?
Guess what
Have a guess what these are?
Share it in the comments, and I’ll share the answer on Monday.
The epee umbrella
Rumour has it that one night in my grandparents’ apple orchard, there were some thieves stealing gas from the tank my Grandpa kept for the tractors. My uncle–who was a salesman and not the first person I would choose as a defender (no disrespect intended to Uncle Bob)–went out to run them off. This umbrella is what he took as his weapon.
En garde!
The gas incident was well before I was born. Eventually, this umbrella made its way to my grandparents’ cottage. Every so often, it would be pulled out on rainy days so that people could make their way back and forth between cottages. When my grandmother sold the cottage, the umbrella became mine.
The April issue of Country Living magazine featured vintage umbrellas, including one that looked a lot like mine. The shape is called pagoda, and according to CL, “Asian-inspired shapes generally indicate an older piece.” Given its illustrious family history, my umbrella is obviously somewhat old. The umbrella in the magazine was made in Montreal. That Canadian lineage makes me wonder if mine might be related.
I saw another umbrella very similar to mine at an antique show on the weekend. It was even rose ombre but reversed with the pink on the bottom and white on the top. The tag said it was from Montreal too. It was priced at $80. Country Living valued their umbrella at twice that–$160. I’m not sure that mine is worth that much, but maybe it’s about the price of a tank of gas–even at today’s prices.
Do you have any family hand-me-downs with interesting pasts? Have you ever spotted any of your heirlooms in a magazine?
Crazy for a full moon
I think we’ve established that we don’t have a fenced yard, and we’re still working on helping Baxter remember he has to come when called. So any time Baxter goes outside, he’s wearing a leash, and a human is holding the end.
As the human responsible for the first and last outings of the day, I love a full moon.
Being able to see my shadow at 6am and 10pm is a luxury.
On most of our walks this winter, I was stumbling over ruts, tripping over tufts of grass, straining my eyes for telltale strips of white–and my nose for the putrid scent–that signifies skunk.
Now that the days are getting longer, our walks are starting to be lit by the rising sun. However, I still have a special fondness for moon walks.
While the full moon is reputed to cause craziness, full moon walks are so much more relaxing. What drives me crazy is if my full moon is hidden behind cloud cover.
Aside: Apparently there was an eclipse yesterday. I missed it. Eclipses are neat enough that I would have given up my full moon without complaint.
What’s your favourite phase of the moon? Is anyone else wandering around outside in the wee hours of the morning and night? Did you catch the eclipse?
Our new pond
I’ve written before how important it was to me to have a pond on our property.
Well, this spring we have a new pond, although it’s not quite what I imagined.
Behold the pond in the driveshed.
Can’t you just picture it? A peaceful afternoon at the shore, watching the trees reflect in the water’s surface, surrounded by recycling bins, tools and the smell of oil. Ahhh.
There’s always been a low spot inside the door of the driveshed. Occasionally after a big rain, we have a puddle. However, this year’s thaw resulted in more than a puddle. The really hazardous part of our new pond was that for a long time it was still partially frozen. The bottom layer of ice was extremely smooth and extremely slippery. Taking out the recycling took on a new layer of adventure.
Even now that the ice has melted, the adventure remains. Ralph was helping Matt with the garbage this week, and she had to make quite the leap to get in and out of the driveshed.
Addition for the spring to-do list: as soon as the gravel pile thaws, pick up a big scoop (or two) of stones for the driveshed.
How are things thawing at your house? Any water where it’s not supposed to be?
Snapshot
Ice-covered branches on a misty country morning. (Shot back before Christmas, but too pretty not to share).
Walking on (frozen) water
A week or so ago, I talked about how I was trudging around the farm due to all of the snow. Thanks to a thaw and freeze last week, it’s gotten even worse. The temperature didn’t go up enough to melt the snow very much, so it’s still deeper than my knees. Then the temperature dropped, but just enough to freeze the surface into a very inconvenient crust.
Now I take a step and with a jerk drop down through the snow. The icy crust bruises my shin and grabs hold of my boot trapping me. My boots are full of snow, my shirt is soaked with sweat and my thigh muscles are burning. Walks are brutal.
Before he jetted off to Hawaii (I’m not at all jealous), my father-in-law left me his snowshoes. They may look more suited to being decorative objects hung on a wall, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
I strapped them on and took my first tentative steps.
Antiques or not, these things still work. I can walk (waddle) without dropping down into the snow. In the picture below, you can see my crash-through path from the day before at the bottom and the gentle web prints from my new footwear at the top.
I am not coordinated at the best of times, so I can’t claim to be graceful or quick when I add snowshoes into the equation. However, after just one weekend I am already a snowshoe enthusiast. In fact, I’m already planning to upgrade my equipment. I’m thinking something made in this century might be a good choice.
Did you try anything new this weekend? Does anyone else use vintage tools or sport equipment? Have you ever gone snowshoeing?
Share your national cheer
Today is my favourite day of every other year: Olympic opening ceremonies.
I of course will be cheering for the Canadians, but I know many of you are reading from all over the world (or have family histories outside of Canada). I think it would be really neat to learn more about where you’re from. Please add your own national cheer to this post in the comments.
And to my fellow Canadians, please join in too.
Go Canada Go!
