HUGE CLEANING JOB. MANY HANDS. DONE

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FIVE BLESSED HOURS ALONE. QUIET. MMMMMMMM…..

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LIFE’S AT FULL THROTTLE; ENGINE’S OVERHEATING

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READY FOR A FRESH READING START

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Pretty, isn’t it?

It’s been snowing lightly since before dawn – and it’s slippery out there!

Look how gray the sky is!

But for a few glorious minutes just before noon, the sun burst out from the clouds at the back of the house and made everything glow. You can see the shadow of the roof peak in the bottom right.

I’m so glad I captured this moment – have a wonderful weekend!

I was out doing some volunteer work yesterday morning and came across what I at first thought was a large dog on the front lawn of a house.

When I realized that it was a cow, I thought for sure it was a lawn ornament – until said bovine raised her head to look at me.

Another “we never saw this in the city” moment!

I know I’m a day late but I do have an explanation.

Heavy rain started here in Nova Scotia about midnight Thursday and continued on until supper time Friday. In all, about 56 mm (just over 2 inches) came down in that time period. I took this photo Friday morning from my office window, thinking that the rain was benefiting the view: making the sere colours of November deepen and glow.

We had a dinner reservation with some friends in Halifax (about a two hour drive) and were amazed to see the water on the way: ditches running white water rapids, streams flowing through fields and down hillsides where there had been no streams a day earlier, standing water making hay fields resemble rice paddies, but the roads were fine even through Truro which sits on a flood plain at the end of the Bay of Fundy (highest tides in the world!)

Truro is located at the far right end of the water in this diagram (just off the map) – past where it says tides are 49 feet (15 m).

Ah – but supper time was low tide. By the time we traveled home at 10 that evening, matters were different. We saw a car abandoned in the Sobey’s parking lot, water up to the middle of its doors. And we found all the access roads through & around Truro closed because of flooding, necessitating some quick thinking and back roads to get home.

None of my photos turned out because it was too dark – but trust me: what looks so benign in my front yard was anything but at high tide in Truro.

Our three-year-old grandson has a pretty happy disposition and not much gets him down, but he was in tears this morning. We’re having a bit of a blow here on the east coast – a nor-easter with lots of rain and winds that are gusting to 100 km/hr (60mph). The ‘breezes’ caught the tree that held the start of the tree-house that Grampa is building for Steven – and took it out by the roots. Tire swing’s gone, too.

The silver lining? As Steven, who never cries for long, says: “I can fill up that hole with water and jump in the B-I-G puddle!”

Summer is fast drawing to a close & I realize that I’ve not shown you a full summer view from my window. (Oh, I wish I had a new camera!)

Despite the warmish weather of the last couple of weeks, the grasses and trees are losing their vibrant summer green, so I thought I’d concentrate on the mountain ash tree in the front garden. It volunteered itself there about four years ago and this year, for the first time, displayed the glossy orange berries that characterize it. (And, yes, the sky is really is that blue.)

We spent yesterday afternoon at the beach but it rained all night and today it’s 13C/55F with a NW wind blowing at 60km/35mph that makes it feel much colder. But the sun is shining – which it’s supposed to do all weekend. Have a good one, wherever you are. I’ll be back with book-related posts next week.

I was out doing volunteer work yesterday afternoon and got quite warm in the car. Each time we drove past an ocean view, the water looked so blue & inviting that I thought of stopping the car and just diving in.

Today promised to be as warm so we decided to make a last run to the beach. (Much cooler weather is forecast, starting tomorrow.) That ol’ Atlantic was darn cold – and rough, what with the stiff breeze coming in, but my three-year-old grandson had a ball while his mom & I sat in the sun.

Even if we have a very warm Indian summer next month, this will probably be our last beach trip for the year. Bittersweet.

On the way to the nearest town 45 minutes away, the highway runs by a field in which there is often a white horse. And if the horse is there, so is the goat, following the horse around like a shadow. This summer, there is a new addition – the goat’s kid, who is not visible in the photo.

I think people must stop often for photos and the horse is fed up. Nearly every time I took a shot, he moved his rear-end to the camera. Not amused by the paparazzi , I guess.

The less-than-rich soil and shorter growing season along Nova Scotia’s North Shore means that most of the farmland around is used in woodlot, wild blueberries, hayfields, beef & dairy herds, and sheep – lots and lots of sheep. While many of the area farmers still use dogs to herd and protect their flocks–border collies and Bernese mountain dogs being a couple of the favorites–more and more are turning to the use of llamas.

Llamas are relatively friendly, curious and a great asset in keeping the local sheep from the local coyotes. You can read about their guard qualities here.

Yesterday afternoon, we passed a large flock of baa-ing ewes and lambs (what a marvelous sound!) and caught their protector in the middle of a grassy mouthful.

I thought you’d enjoy seeing this, too.

It’s commonly thought that small towns are safer than cities. And I think Maritimers, particularly, pride themselves on being honest. Even so, people are imperfect, and reality sometimes bites.

So you can imagine the trepidation my husband felt today, after discovering that he had left his cash withdrawal in the bank machine at the SuperStore in Amherst, a town of about 9,500 people. He very nearly didn’t go back to check whether it was there, when he discovered his loss after about an hour.

But go, he did. He spoke to the cashier at the Customer Service register, sheepishly admitting that he thought he had left his money behind. She asked him how much he thought he’d left. When he told the amount, she happily handed him this envelope, containing the cash that an employee had turned in. That young man, who was on his way back in from the parking lot with a load of shopping carts when he spotted the cash, can stand very tall tonight. (Thank you!)

I know that honest people can be anywhere, but I worked in banking for many years in Ontario and, more often than not, when cash was left behind in an ATM, it was pocketed by the next person in line.

It was a small amount today, but it reinforced our belief that living in a small community is the best place to be.

When we came to Nova Scotia, I didn’t realize we were moving near the Cobequid Hills – one of the three mountain ranges here. All of these ranges are part of the Canadian Appalachians, which are an extension of the American mountain chain of the same name.

The Cobequid Hills run along Nova Scotia’s north shore from the Minas Basin to Antigonish, and contain the highest point on the mainland – 1200-foot Nuttby Mountain. (The “mainland” is Nova Scotia without Cape Breton Island.)

My doctor has prescribed walking for my arthritic back and so I try each day to take my dogs for a walk. One of my favorite spots is in the 70-acre hayfield behind our property. This morning was overcast and cool, and the view of the Hills at the back of the field was beautiful.

I’m up to only 15 minutes of walking time, but if you’ve ever tried moving rubber boots through thigh-high grass, you’ll know it’s still a pretty good workout.

We moved to Nova Scotia eight years ago this week, at the beginning of a month of perfect summer days. I thought we had landed in paradise. But as the year(s) passed and the reality of country living became clearer, there were many times I realized that paradise has indeed been lost.

But this morning dawned a beautiful day 20C/68F, sunny and with a soft breeze from the southwest. After my shower, I went out on the side deck in my robe to hang my towel on the line – and paused to count the wonders of the day in the country:
• I was outside in my robe – and no one was around to see me
• I was hanging my towel on the clothesline
• The air smelled fresh and I knew my towel would come in with the same scent
• The only sounds were the birds singing for their mates

In the city, I would never have ventured outside without being fully dressed – there were too many people around. We didn’t have room for a clothesline and the clothes would have come in covered in fine black soot anyway. (Many urban areas have bans against clotheslines.) And in the city, the traffic and sirens were constant, and the neighbors’ music often reached us when we didn’t want to hear it.

Small blessings, perhaps, but they feed the soul and remind me again why we want to live in the country.

Okay, this week I cheated a bit and stepped outside the door to take this shot, but I’m so proud of my tulips.

I have huge gardens here but a couple of years ago I had surgery on my hand and spent the summer in a rehabilitation device that restricted all use. My gardens got away from me that year and I haven’t yet been able to get them back in control, so this show of non-weed color thrills me.

Please ignore the lawn in the background. The constant rain has made it lush but has prevented us from cutting it as often as it needs.

P.S. If you don’t have tulips but want some, why not send yourself some?

The garden in the middle of our front lawn is filled with wild rose bushes, which look sort of ratty this time of year. But the ground below is carpeted with daffodils–it’s a bumper crop of blooms this year.

I picked some for the dining room table. There seems to be five different varieties: a golden yellow King Alfred type, a paler yellow similarly shaped variety, cream petals with an orange center, white petals with a yellow center, and a double yellow bloom (most of these are past their prime so there’s not many in the bouquet).

Which is your favorite?

Don’t have daffodils in your garden? Send yourself some spring flowers. Here are some beautiful tulips.

In the springtime, the back portion of our 2.5 acres, usually swampy, becomes a small creek. I sighted this pair of mallard ducks out there today.

Since there’s a male and female, I’m hoping there’s a nest.

One of the perks of country living.

It’s springtime in the country, and lambing season is here. I took these photos yesterday afternoon on a brief driving tour of the area.

The babies are growing quickly but are still gangly.

Watching the domestic animals like these is just one of the small joys of country living!