Our forsythia is finally in bloom. It’s more than a month later than last year, which shows just how long spring has taken to arrive. I think with the appearance of the bright yellow blossoms we can safely say that spring has finally arrived.
Happy birthday, Easter
Our fluffball, our baby, our idiot, our kitten, our Easter turns one year old this week.
She snuggles like a baby.
She has the attention span of a toddler.
She has the ambition of a teenager and is keen to get her driver’s license.
She wrestles with her mama Ralph, errant stones on the driveway or the strings on my lawn chair.
She’s always starving and has been known to break into the house in order to get to the milk at the bottom of my cereal bowl (seriously, she’s crafty). She has also learned to hunt for herself.
She thinks she’s a dog, chasing sticks, digging holes and coming when Matt whistles.
Her voice is still her squeaky kitten meow unless she thinks we’re abandoning her–going down the driveway to take out the garbage or walking around the corner of the house out of her line of sight are cause for very long loud meows.
Around the farm, she’s known as baby (my label), BH (Matt’s holdover from when we called her “Big Head“), DB (“Dancing Bear,” Matt’s label for her tendency to rear up on her hind legs so that you can scratch her head), and occasionally Easter.
Happy birthday, Easter.
Medium rare with a side of blue air
The result of writing a post showing your barbecue bursting into flames is that your in-laws send flyers full of barbecue sales home with your husband. As a result of those flyers, you arrive home later that week to find a very large box sitting in your foyer.
That very large box leads to a very big mess all over your living room as your husband assembles the new barbecue. It also results with you being kicked out of the house so that your husband can curse in private.
Readmission to the house is conditional on your participation in carrying the new barbecue outside, which results shortly thereafter in dinner–cooked by your husband.
So he took care of the shopping, the swearing, the constructing and the cooking. I’d say I got the better end of this deal.
Doe a deer
It’s apparently wild kingdom week here on the blog, and I’ve saved the best for last.
For the past week or so, deer have been grazing in the back field. They show up every night around 8 o’clock and eat their bed time snack before heading back into the bush.
Some nights there’s been only one. Usually there’s a group of three or four. The high point was a herd of seven.
We can walk partway along the back lane towards the field without them bolting. Usually we just watch them with binoculars and try not to spook them.
Fortunately, Matt’s brother, who came to visit last weekend, has a better camera than we do–and is also apparently a bit of a deer whisperer–because he was able to get quite close and get the best pictures so far for us. Thanks, Greg!
Operation identification
While I didn’t see any ducks or geese at the pond this past weekend, there were lots of other animals. Red-winged blackbirds, a turtle, a frog, seven (!) fish, jitterbugs, waterstriders and this guy.
It’s been almost exactly a year since I asked for your help in identifying a pond creature. I’m pretty confident that last year’s was a beaver as everyone said. I’m also pretty confident that this guy is not a beaver.
I know the video is not the best. He was all the way on the other side of the pond, and it turns out that’s quite a ways away. But what do you think? Is he a mink? A weasel? The Loch Ness Monster?
For rent: pond (feathery young couple with family aspirations preferred)
Our tenants on the pond seem to be changing daily. Everybody seems to be looking for the best spot to set up housekeeping.
Our usual guests are Canada geese and mallard ducks–or both as seen in this picture from a few weeks ago.
I went down to the pond to get a more up to date picture on Saturday and only succeeded in spooking a very large solitary Canada goose. Actually, that’s not entirely true. I also succeeded in catching a nap, as I got tired of sitting quietly on the shore waiting for a bird to show up and laid back in the grass where I fell asleep. I also succeeded in getting my first sunburn of the year as a result of laying flat on my back with no shade.
Anyways, back to the uncooperative birds.
They mostly show up in pairs, although we have hosted singles as well as three mallard drakes for a bachelor party–perhaps the word on the wing is that our pond is the neighbourhood mixer?
Everybody is pretty spooky. I can’t get too close without them springing from the water and flying away–as my Canada goose did on Saturday. I am hoping that a nice young couple comes our way soon and decides that our pond is the perfect spot to start a family. I promise, I won’t take anymore naps on their lawn.
Treasures
In the most recent issue of Style at Home, editor Erin McLaughlin talks in her column about what makes a house a home. She writes, “It means filling your space with things of significance, things that are a reflection of who you are.”
Then this week Jen at Rambling Renovators posted about a painting she had made of her wedding gown as a reminder of the feelings she had that day wearing that dress.
These two articles got me thinking about the different treasures that I have gathered through the years.
One of my favourite treasures is a watch pin that I inherited from my grandmother.
My grandma wore this everyday. She couldn’t wear a wristwatch, because they always stopped–I have no idea why this was. My mom told me once that when a dowser came to dig a new well at their family farm, my grandmother found out that she could witch water, so maybe she had some unusual energy?
The watch is for the wearer, so it hangs upside down. When I remember my grandmother, I can vividly see her tilting the face up so that she can see what time it is.
I treasure this pin for its uniqueness–I haven’t seen many watch pins–and also for how it signifies my grandmother and the times we shared together. For a small metal object, the associations this pin has for me are very strong.
What about you? Do you have any treasures that remind you of favourite people or occasions? What makes a house a home for you? How do you enjoy your treasures? Do you wear them or display them around your home? What are some of your most treasured things?
“I could be Thor!”
Pop quiz:
You’re walking in the forest and you see this tree.
What do you do?
- Marvel over the crack and continue on with the hike. Nature will take care of itself.
- Marvel over the crack and make a note to invite your father-in-law over with his chainsaw.
- Marvel over the crack and decide that it’s too dangerous to leave and go find a saw to deal with it yourself.
- Marvel over the crack. Poke sticks in the crack to try and lever the tree off the stump. Fail. Decide that this tree must come down right this minute. Decide that the best tool will be a sledge hammer. Saw, pshaw.
So my answer would probably be ‘B,’ but of course my resident lumberjack saw an opportunity to advance from his most recent experience felling a tree with an ax to be even more manly. The words “I could be Thor!” did in fact come out of his mouth.
A couple of hard whacks popped the tree off its stump–all while I watched and photographed from a safe distance. However, the tree is still standing more vertical than horizontal, branches tangled in his closest neighbour.
We are now moving on to plan B.
What would you do? Any idea what made the tree crack like that? We had a big ice storm the other week, so it could have been the weight of the ice, but other trees that came down didn’t crack horizontally across the trunk. Anyone else living with someone who fancies himself a god?
Why I love the local lumber mill
Maybe it’s because shopping carts and I don’t get along, and I like being able to pull my car right up to the aisle. Maybe it’s because I prefer shopping in the open air to under fluorescents. Maybe it’s because I always have questions and like it when someone has the answers. Whatever the reason, I love our local lumber mill.
When I was buying the wood for our island countertop, I said in my first post that I went through nearly the whole pile looking for the straightest, cleanest boards possible. What I really should have said was that two guys from the yard crew at the lumber mill went through nearly the whole pile for me, letting me look at each individual board until I found the ones that I liked.
Then, they ran each of the boards through their big saw–twice–trimming the edges to my exact measurements. Oh and there was no charge for any of the cuts.
They loaded all of the lumber into my car, making sure that I had enough space to shift gears and see at least some of the traffic around me.
This is the experience every time I got to the lumber mill. Their staff is super knowledgeable and provides outstanding service.
Because they cater to contractors and not just DIYers, they have the answers and the materials that I need.
Have questions about what’s the best material for a particular project? They can talk me through it. Looking for enough baseboard in the profile I’ve chosen to trim the whole basement? They have job lot quantities in stock. Want shelving with the pre-finished square edge that matches my existing shelving? They carry it. Along with all of the nails, screws, tools, hardware and whatever else I might need.
There’s no wandering aisles trying to figure things out myself. I walk up to the counter, ask my questions, place my order and drive out to the yard. There someone finds exactly what I need, answers more of my questions and loads it into my car.
My one quibble with the local lumber mill is that often this loading happens first thing in the morning as, since they cater to contractors, they’re open 7:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. Most of my shopping tends to happen on my way to work, and I end up driving around all day with a pile of lumber stretching from the dashboard, across the passenger seat, through the back seat and into the trunk. Of course, this small inconvenience is outweighed by the convenience of getting exactly what I need, whatever the project.
Having a blast
I suspect that the universe is trying to tell me that it’s not yet barbecue season. When I fired up the grill for the first time this year, I had a bit more fire than I expected.
Further investigation revealed additional flames around the pipe fittings on the underside.
Fortunately, the combustion was confined to fire and nothing actually exploded. Unfortunately, barbecue was not to be on the menu, and we had to rely on indoor appliances to salvage dinner.
Our barbecue is an old hand-me-down, so it may be time to replace it. However, I don’t like to give in that easily. Do you think it can be fixed? Tightening the fittings or maybe adding some teflon tape is a lot easier and cheaper than buying a new barbecue. Has anyone else had a problem like this? I’m open to advice for repairing barbecues or for grilling steaks. Any suggestions?
Home on 129 Acres 