gypsy color

Vintage enamel ware is hard to resist.
I made a rule that I was only allowed to collect plain white with black trim to keep things from getting out of hand.
I am so weak.
I couldn't resist the gypsy color.
Or the cool smooth feel.....

And the shape of the bowls is my very favourite bowl shape.
And when I had one, the next one seemed to form a set.
And then the third made a collection.
They are reposing on my mantel.
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever."

sun, moon and stars

Sun

Moon

Stars

other accomodations

I always wished I had a fireplace. It wasn't so much the crackling fire and warm hearth I longed for. It was the mantel I really wanted. It seemed such a grand place to make a statement; to display treasures and pay homage to the passing seasons.
When we moved to Aldergrove a few years back, a fireplace was included in the deal; a real chimney and wood burning fireplace.
One afternoon as we lounged in the living room, we were startled to hear a scrabbling sound from the chimney. We looked at each other and held our breath. Yes, there it was again.
My husband sprang to the fireplace. He leaned into its dark maw, and turned his head to peer up into the chimney.
As his vision cleared he realized that a pair of eyes were peering back into his own.
A squirrel.
It had always wished for a fireplace too apparently. Not for the crackling fire for sure, but as a haven from
the weather; The perfect spot for a nest.
Our vision of sitting before a crackling fire wavered.
My husband grabbed a broom and after opening the damper, brandished it like a sword up the chimney to "discourage" the squirrel.
It wasn't discouraged at all.
It was outraged and offended.
It growled and bit at the broom.
Undaunted, my husband lit a tiny fire, a smudge.
He and the squirrel then made simultaneous leaps.
The squirrel exited the chimney like a fireman from a burning building and my husband shot up a ladder with a piece of wire screen to nail over the chimney opening.
The squirrels found other accommodations I suppose; One with less square footage, but I'm sure it would have had a better view.

even longer

A huge heron rose out of the rushes at the lake's edge. Our eyes followed it appreciatively until it lit atop a twisted dry snag.
Seeing a heron in flight always reminds me of our long ago neighbor.
He told us that he had headed out for an evening bike ride. As he sailed along the deserted stretch of country road, a great blue heron suddenly rose to his left.
He was transfixed.
It seemed to be banking directly towards him like some giant pterodactyl.
Our neighbor lost his nerve, and his rhythm and his balance. (and his tough guy persona)
The road rose up to meet him and he skidded and bounced, evenly distributing bruises and scrapes that lasted for days.
The sheer size, the wing span;  they made an impression that lasted even longer.

who

"Ahh..tchOOOO!" I sneezed, the sound echoing down the lake.
"Who? Whoo-ew-ew?" came a startled loon's querulous reply.

dogs can't ask

My hand was pushing open the car door when I glanced in the rear view mirror and noticed a big golden dog.
It seemed to have appeared out of no where.
Had he arrived with the woman making her way to the library entrance, her arms weighted down with books?
No, and she was forced to walk around him as he circled her moving feet.
Into the library went the woman.
Did she invite him in?
No, but he followed her anyway.
Was he welcomed?
No, he was soon standing wagging his tail on the sidewalk.
He continued to warmly greet each new visitor to the library.
A van pulled up and a woman got out and opened the back doors.
The dog rushed over.
"Oh good," I thought. The owner is here at last.
The dog leapt into the back of the van and sat regally next to a kennel holding a wildly barking dog.
Was it the owner?
No, and the woman could not persuade the dog to get back out.
Her own dog's barking began to take on a hysterical note.
I'm not sure how the story ended.
The woman had opened the side door of her van as well and was trying to coax the dog out one end or the other as I pulled away.
That dog wanted to go somewhere.
I hope he figured out how to get there because dogs can't ask directions.

sign on the lawn

"What is this?" I exclaimed to my mother. "Grand Central Station?"
Robins have been building a nest, deep in an evergreen swaying over our deck.
A nice secluded, quiet, private spot it must have seemed to them, hidden away amongst the thick green needles.
Today I noticed a ladder against the base of the tree and heading up into its arms.
Our neighbour has decided that this will be the year to prune and trim, something not done in the past eight years.
A large gray squirrel is dashing along the outstretched limbs.
And then........ a flash of color over the deck rail.
A Steller Jay and Robin swoop out of nowhere at each other. They veer apart, talons clenched.
Privacy is worth protecting.
I think of the real estate slogan, "location, location, location."
I hope the increase in traffic doesn't put a sign on the front lawn.