Sarah O.

Winter geranium

2012-01-27T15:15:00.001-04:00

Winter geranium, a photo by scosborne on Flickr.

I really miss my cat

2012-01-25T11:48:00.002-04:00

It's just one of those things you start to fixate on when your brain is ignoring the much bigger, more immediate problem in your life.Still, Livy! I don't remember the last time I posted about my cat. But she's adorable. And an enormous stress relief.

Rainy Tuesday in Guelph

2012-01-17T14:22:00.001-04:00

Rainy Tuesday in Guelph, a photo by scosborne on Flickr.

Rainy Tuesday in Guelph

I really am enjoying the whole phone/flickr/blog interface, even if I have only used it to post pictures so far.

Devil's Wheelbarrows

2012-01-14T01:14:00.003-04:00

My father has always called skate eggs "devil's wheelbarrows" so that, in turn, is what I have always called them. Wikipedia says alternate (colloquial) terms for a skate egg is mermaid's purse or devil's purse. I wonder where the wheelbarrow came from, then? Anyway, there were many skate eggs on the shoreline south of Virginia Beach (near Back Bay Wildlife Refuge - I don't know the name of the beach) on the day we were there. All these were found within an 8 foot diameter, and then abandoned to the waves and sea foam.

In other news, you might notice I did some fiddling today with my layout and theme. I was bored with the old one, particularly because my photos ended up too small. I hope this is an improvement, but if it isn't, please let me know. I'm only writing a thesis so there's always a time for some procrastination. I worked quite diligently on the thesis today, so I gave myself permission to make that joke.

Test blanket

2012-01-13T22:41:00.001-04:00

Test blanket, a photo by scosborne on Flickr.

Test blanket - just testing out my new phone's abilities.

Golden-crowned kinglet

2011-12-01T14:27:00.001-04:00

This lady-kinglet flew into a window today. She was doing that open-beaked, shocked-and-hurt thing that birds do, so I put her into a shoebox while she recovered her strength. She was such a tiny little thing! She weighed no more than a couple of toothpicks and was about the size of two cotton balls. After about 10 minutes she flew off with no apparent trouble and I heard a chorus of little cheeps coming from the tree that she flew to.

I did take a picture of her just before her "release," but I was careful not to stress her and I was really quick with the camera (hence the poor image quality).

Starlings over Pennsylvania

2011-11-15T13:44:00.000-04:00

Back to the slow crushing

2011-11-14T13:30:00.001-04:00

Because to me, thesis writing is more like the garbage compactor scene from the first Star Wars movie than it is a "daily grind." Although "slow crushing" does not really describe my state of mind at the moment, I know that the closer the deadlines get, the more apt it will be. It's the nature of the beast.

In any case, I'm back from PEI, back from Ontario, back from Virginia, so here comes the crushing! It's nice to know I have so much material to use up on procrastination blog posts! But for now, it's back to the compactor.Thomas Jefferson's estate Monticello was the highlight of the Virginia trip for me. Colonial Williamsburg has a hard time trying to tell the story of such a large, diverse site. Monticello, in contrast, just makes sense, and as a result offers a much more fulfilling experience, "in my humble opinion." The meerkats liked it too.

Back Home Weather

2011-10-24T21:10:00.001-03:00

Well it's been nice being back in Ontario for a bit. I visited with a friend in Toronto for a couple of days, and then the rest of my time was researching in the archives or driving around the Ontario countryside, so that was all quite nice. One thing that wasn't nice? Ontario's weather. It was grey, gloomy, dreary, wet, dark, depressing, murky, somber, dim, sunless. I will not be missing forecasts like this:

Nova Scotia's weather isn't stellar, but at least there is a little more variety. I swear, when I woke up Sunday morning it took me 15 seconds to remember the word "sunshine". It had totally fled my mind from lack of use!

And hey, if it's variety I want, there is always Virginia's weather, which I will be experiencing in person by this time next week!

LMM thesis talk: Leaskdale

2011-10-22T21:07:00.000-03:00

I made it up to Leaskdale today, to visit the Manse where Lucy Maud Montgomery wrote 11 books and lived for 15 years. I'm looking forward to sharing some pictures, but I don't have internet access where I am staying, so I'll have to wait on that for a few days. I tend to think of trees as very permanent parts of the landscape, but it seems every couple months I need to be retaught the lesson that 91 years can actually bring about some pretty significant changes. The main example from Leaskdale that I am thinking of is the view from the North-facing kitchen window, but to tide you over (I'm sure the anticipation is deadly) I'll just share this image of the road visible from LMM's front porch, back when she lived there, and then when Google Streetview passed by a few years ago. Just wait til I get to load my pictures from today! I guarantee dump trucks, piles of gravel, and culverts. If LMM were alive today... well let's just say there would be quite the series of irate journal entries.

This is what Lucy Maud saw

This is what the Streetview car saw. It's not an exact match for angle or perspective, but if you squint a little bit you can see bits of the ridge of LMM's hill in gaps between the white cedars. There seem to be way more drainage issues in the ditch along the road now, compared to what there was in LMM's day - just another environmental effect of road construction! But I should stop there before I get distracted from my actual research.

Creepy Fox is Indifferent

2011-10-11T13:21:00.000-03:00

I finished up in Cavendish earlier than I expected to, so I took the last hour to go to Oceanview in Prince Edward Island National Park to make some notes and watch the waves. On the way in to the parking lot, I saw a beautiful red fox (I take it back PEI, you do have pretty vulpes), but she ran into the bushes before I could get a picture. I hoped she would be hanging around when I left the park, but instead, it was our creepy little friend here who was taking a nap rather nonchalantly by the edge of the bicycle path. I guess he was determined to make the most of the sunshine, considering the two days that preceded this one. I admit, I kinda wanted to cuddle him when I saw him.

I'm in PEI!

2011-10-06T21:10:00.000-03:00

It is cold, wet, and blowing a gale out there. I finally made it over to PEI to do some research for my MLA thesis. Even in a gale, PEI is just a beautiful province. It's interesting though seeing just how cohesive it is as a landscape - I don't want to call it uniform or unvarying, but it just feels like the province as a whole shares more in its landscape/environmental form than other provinces do (I'm thinking of Nova Scotia, but I know it's not the only one). Anyway. I wasn't able to do any site visits today because of the storm, but I did manage to see a little of the shore and eat some really good breaded cod. (I think it was cod) And look, internet! Creepy Fox. Sorry PEI, but Nova Scotia has much prettier foxes.Some storm pictures:I call this one "Gale Birds." Ha! hilarious. But really, the seagulls are having a blast out there. They really make a past time out of aeronautics, you can tell just by watching them play the gusts.

Rock fan

2011-09-27T15:02:00.000-03:00

My father is a little fanatical about not having any large rocks in a lawn area. Even if a rock or boulder is just barely showing itself above ground, and the grass is growing over it, he still needs to dig it out. After he dug this one out a few years ago and had nowhere to move it, I suggested he shove it over a few feet into the garden on the front bank. Et voila! One of my favourite little garden vignettes - iris foliage, lavender, self-seeded bracken ferns and an exuberant Frans Hals daylily, backlit by the late August sun.

Cute Cat.

2011-09-22T21:37:00.003-03:00

Livy is absolutely adorable. That cat makes taking a break from thesis research a joy. Also, I love that Joe Pye Weed, which has settled in to it's full light location very enthusiastically. The 'Goldsturm' Rudbeckia is none too shabby either -- it positively glows in the September evening light. And this is the best year we've ever had for the Autumn Joy sedum. I finally see why it's considered a strong autumn plant.

Semester 3 - Model

2011-02-06T04:13:00.002-04:00

I made this model last semester to show a portion of the Bullfrog Pond Park design that myself and two other group members designed. The model encompasses a stormwater outlet and the north end of the park. It was the first model I made since the previous year. I like making models - very engrossing work.

Back to School Beetle

2010-09-15T22:48:00.004-03:00

beetle 2
noun
a tool with a heavy head and a handle, used for tasks such as ramming, crushing, and driving wedges; a maul.
• a machine used for heightening the luster of cloth by pressure from rollers.

Use: "Landscape Architecture school sometimes makes me feel like I've been hit by a beetle."

Not quite sure if I'm ready to take the plunge, but in L.A. school they throw you off a precipice, so there isn't actually a lot of choice involved if you are silly enough to show up for the first day of classes.

I hope to post more this year. I say that every year. I always mean it. Here's to good intentions.

Weekend Refresher

2010-05-31T21:23:00.002-03:00

I had the opportunity to go sailing this past weekend, and although normally I would have put off making a decision until I could no longer go (because that's how I roll), I actually threw up my hands and declared a decision made. I bought some trail mix, made some oat cakes, and bought a bus ticket to Toronto. I set my alarm to wake myself early, and packed my bags the night before.

In between races (I think)

A fellow student in my program has a J24 at a club in Toronto, and past this weekend was their opener. There were 17 boats racing in the J24 fleet. Considering single design racing was brand new to me, it was pretty impressive and a different type of racing from Halifax, where we have a couple million fewer people to draw on and not as many boats of a single design.

Although I crew on a J30s during the summer, I was not prepared for how easy it is to sail a J24. In a breeze, tacking a genoa over happens in a split second and spinnaker jybes are like a dream. At the start line, everyone crowds in tight and close calls seem to happen every 10 seconds. It was great. And at the end of the day, you lift the boat out of the water and sit it on a trailer in the yard until the next race. What clean hulls!

Downwind leg, spinnakers and Toronto skyline in the distance.

Sailing on Lake Ontario is odd. I have forgiven the lake for being a lake (the other few times I saw it, I admit I felt a little queasy that all that water belonged to an inland sea - unnatural!) and I think it's kind of cool. I like how the waves are choppy and can disappear in minutes if the wind drops. There's something to be said for sailing on a flat inland sea with a hard, burning blue sky over you. In the end, though, while I am glad to discover an appreciation for Lake Ontario sailing, my heart still yearns for the salt air and grey-green Atlantic swells. Even if it comes, occasionally, with the odd bout of seasickness.

Blue, blue day on the water.

City Robins Litter.

2010-05-02T19:14:00.005-03:00

Last year I posted pictures of a lone robins egg in an abandoned nest in our yard. The likelihood of coming across another one this year is slightly diminished due to living in an apartment. However, look at what I came across on Douglas Street here in Guelph today:

And close-up:

Turdus migratorious, total guttersnipe.

Trip to Caledon

2010-04-24T21:53:00.004-03:00

On Wednesday I was fortunate enough to be invited to Caledon to stay the night at my friend's house. The next morning, she and her dog, another friend who lived nearby and her dog, and my lone self went for a walk in the spring woods. We went to a trail in Bellfountain (I think I got that right?), where I got to experience spring in one of Southern Ontario's Maple Beech Forests. It's just what I always thought a forest should be, growing up on Nova Scotia's scrubby fir-and-spruce Eastern Shore, and I hope I'm not disloyal saying so! I especially love how many spring ephemerals there are in these forets, and how different they are from the moist, acidic soil of the Eastern Shore. Our yard at home, for instance, is dominated by bluebead lily (Clintonia borealis) and bunchberry (Cornus canadensis) and wild rhododendron and star flowers and the like - all absolutely lovely! - but I am not as familiar with Trout Lily, wild ginger, and blue cohosh, even though all three can be found elsewhere in Nova Scotia.

I'll just provide the pics with very little comment, other than, how great to get out of Guelph! The trees were almost two weeks behind what they are here in the 'city,'and it was strange to realize how oblivious I had become to the urban heat island effect. I'm such a city dweller these days! Ha.

This is the view from where we parked. It could have easily been anywhere in NS, except for the plentiful white cedar.

The tree canopy up on the Escarpment.

The view from a high point along the trail. The field is an old orchard. Imagine hauling yourself, a cart, and a horse all the way up here for maintenance and apple picking!

Maple Beech Forest! Robin Hood approved. At least, that's what I always think of when I see woods with understory and room to move in without getting a branch in your face every 3 seconds. Crazy!

And for the flower macros:

Sanguinaria canadensis

Asarum canadense - had to peek under the leaves for this one. Fuzzy alien.

Erythronium americanum. Not fully open yet. The early foliage is mottled, like liver spots, which I suspect has something to do with its common name Toad Lily.

When I finally get myself in gear, I hope to swing by the Guelph arboretum to see the trilliums that were promising to put in an appearance. I remember when I was tiny, we had a few trilliums in our yard, but there haven't been any for years. Spring! Love it.

Still Alive! Very Busy

2010-04-12T00:21:00.003-03:00

Landscape architecture hasn't done me in yet but it is trying its best.

Our final design project of the year was doing a site plan for the Guelph Civic Museum's new site on Catholic Hill. The hill has an interesting history (well, to me all history is interesting), but I don't have time to get into it at the moment. I do have time, however, to post this image of the building that will become the museum and the site it sits on, and the axonometric drawing I did for the corner of Norfolk and Cork Streets, at the bottom of the site. This is the first time this year I have used watercolour for my design work. I found it made the section and axonometric go faster, but it took longer to finish the master plan, because I had to wait for the paint to dry before I could go on, and I had to mask certain areas while I was doing washes. Lots of fun, though, and unfortunately a very effective distraction from AutoCAD!

I'll try and let you know Friday night that I survived the week. Things aren't looking too good. I ate a sweet potato Saturday. That was literally what I ate. Tonight I was going to eat an egg, but I walked home from school and decided to get a sandwich at The Cornerstone instead. It was a delicious sandwich. Hopefully it will tide me over for four days.

Sunny afternoon in Guelph

2010-02-16T12:30:00.003-04:00

It's reading week, so I have absolutely no excuse not to post something from my occasional wanderings in Guelph. I normally take the bus home but one day last week I decided to walk. I became very distracted by the geese and ducks along the river, and a half hour walk turned into an hour and 10 minutes. It was lovely.

This was actually taken a day or two earlier as I was walking home from the bus. It was taken from the Heffernan St. Bridge. The rink area just gets longer and longer as the temperature stays under 0 C.

Some of the many geese that overwinter here in Guelph. I think there are more here now than there were in January, but it could just be the milder weather.

Old industrial building and the Speed River. This building is pretty modern from the street side - plenty of painted corrugated metal siding and steel doors - but there's still some older building bits facing the river. I wonder how much of the interior space is still in use? According to the faded painting on the building facade, this place was at one time home to Canada's only fridge manufacturers.

Little Folk Meadow

2009-11-23T10:59:00.002-04:00

This is an image of the meadow area of the Little Folk property in Elora, Ontario. One of my studio class projects is to devise a master concept plan (with section drawings, elevation drawings, and perspectives) for the property.

Guelph Sunset

2009-11-18T18:47:00.003-04:00

This picture was taken looking off the other side of the bridge. Depending on when class is out and when the sun sets, I get to enjoy the sunset as I walk home.

Guelph Sunrise

2009-11-12T23:04:00.002-04:00

I walk across the Heffernan St. Bridge to get to the bus stop every morning. Yes, I walk, even when I maybe should run... thank goodness for the express bus, eh?

Contour Assignment

2009-11-11T11:40:00.003-04:00

Model building! It can be fun. It can be frustrating. It can be dangerous. One thing for sure, it always takes tonnes of time. This is a pic of the contour assignment I did last month. I'll take a picture of my house model when I get it back and post that as well.

Field Trip: Toronto

2009-10-01T20:09:00.002-03:00

Our first MLA field trip was last Thursday. We spent the first two thirds of the day wandering around Toronto's downtown looking at condo developments (Canada's particular style of condo/apartment tower - the kind we associate most with Vancouver but that also exists in Toronto) and waterfront developments. I liked the Music Garden (note: music plays at the link), designed by Julie Messervy and based on a piece of music by Bach, but I thought it was interesting to see how the spiral paths of the design had been broken by people cutting across to other areas. Humans do like taking the most direct path from point A to point B, after all.

Here is a picture of Karl Foerster feather reed grass and white asters. I wonder if they were planned or opportunistic native travellers?

Here is one of Toronto's new wave decks:

Toronto's waterfront suffers from its isolation from the rest of downtown, and (I think) the lack of any earlier organizing principle. Much of the newer (e.g. post 1950) development was built on what were historically massive rail yards. And the scale of these developments just doesn't work with the kind of tourism uses I think the city might have been hoping to promote. They can't do anything like Halifax's waterfront, which works at a very approachable, small-business scale that the tourist can enjoy and explore. They'd have been better to put aquariums, museums, and concert space along the waterfront. I just don't see how Toronto plans to successfully encourage its own citizens to use the waterfront, and how it hopes to keep tourists there after they have done their boat tour.

Field Trip: Guelph Arboretum

2009-09-29T20:04:00.001-03:00

This wasn't so much a field trip as it was a weekly happening in my Landscape Resource Analysis class, but here are two images from the Guelph Arboretum. A fair chunk of the arboretum lands are actually reverting to forest naturally, so there are open meadows with the poplars (Populous tremuloides, natch) just creeping across. The asters are in their glory right now. I find the species here in Ontario bigger and much more vibrant than the varieties we get in Nova Scotia. There are more pink ones, too. Anyway, I just love them.

Asters in the afternoon light:

And a close-up:

Clearly, these pictures are not from the class where we spent 3 hours walking around in the rain identifying trees.

Drawrin'

2009-09-27T19:35:00.002-03:00

How I spend my days. For Jacquie.

Scotland Found

2009-09-19T21:55:00.006-03:00

I started taking pictures of Guelph to share on the blog and with friends, when I realized my memory card had become dislodged and my images were recording onto the built-in camera memory. Along with those photos, I discovered a handful of images from my 2006 trip to Scotland (!!!) that I never downloaded to my computer. Here are the usable ones from that batch:

This one is of standing stones somewhere in Argyll, on the way from Crinan back to Lochgilphead.

This is taken at the mouth of the Crinan Canal, looking across the water. I was told a tale about the ghost of a hand-less bagpiper haunting the basement of the house. Charming!

This was also taken at the mouth of the Crinan Canal.

Finding those images really, really, really made me want to go back to Scotland. Maybe I will get the chance to work there some day, after this degree is finished (fingers crossed) and before I settle down in my own "New Scotland."

Joe Howe would know

2009-09-07T21:09:00.004-03:00

"Take a Nova Scotian to Ottawa, away above tidewater, freeze him up for five months, where he cannot view the Atlantic, smell salt water, or see the sail of a ship, and the man will pine and die."

- Joe Howe

Well, I'm not quite pining-and-dying, but the fan blew in my ear today and I just ached to be out sailing on the harbour. For the moment, the thought of sailing fills me with homesickness, but I think in a week or so it will probably be my happy place. That and tending the veggie garden - I'm kicking myself that I didn't get to harvest my basil or a single tomato before I left!

Thesis: Formatted

2009-08-11T20:21:00.002-03:00

My thesis is complete! At least until I have my defence and they tell me to change things. I had a nightmare of a wrestling match with Microsoft Word the last few days - the full thesis file became corrupted and it was entirely unusable. Had to break everything back down into its composite parts, re-format what I'd lost, and print it off separately. But it's finished! Now I just have to deliver. If I get hit by a bus tomorrow I'll be really mad.

Forsaken

2009-08-07T18:28:00.003-03:00

Poor robin's egg, abandoned by it's parents. I don't know why they gave up on their nest. Too many grackles around? Lost a parent? The rainy weather? I don't know if the bluejays ever reached fledgling stage - we had a very bad rainstorm one night and I never saw them again, and maybe the same happened to the robins.

In any case, this forlorn little egg just about breaks my heart, and I'm trying my best not to draw any comparisons to my ridiculous thesis turmoil and swift-approaching deadline.

White Admiral

2009-06-30T22:31:00.003-03:00

Limenitis arthemis arthemis, a White Admiral butterfly, taken in Bedford, NS just minutes after leaving its chrysalis (a moment which I, alas, missed).

I love this second one, where she is still hanging off the empty chrysalis - check out those eyes! And she's such a Marilyn, too (always ready for her close-up).

Lobster Jenny

2009-06-14T01:01:00.001-03:00

Our golden creeping jenny plants appear to be growing antennae. Strange thing, that.

Round the Trellis - garden project

2009-05-05T19:58:00.007-03:00

Dad made a trellis for the edge of the deck where I recently removed/rescued a shaded spirea. I helped him one day by cutting the metal strips and then putting them in the rolls to turn them into rings. He did most of the prep work and all of the assembly; welding gear makes me fear for my life. All that electricity and explosive compressed gases and spattering molten metal. How handy is it to have a sheet metal worker for a father! I enjoyed the two afternoons we spent together working on it, even the backache-causing two hours it took us to paint the trellis.

Straight on, the trellis sort of disappears, but from an angle it looks awesome. It doesn't hurt that the forsythia is in bloom right now, and hopefully the clematis that I planted will fill in soon enough (but maybe not - it has had wilt the last two years, and although I dug up a massive root ball, it looks like most of it was dead - only two little crowns on the top of the plant are alive, and it looks like cutworms got to those, argh). If it doesn't survive, we can always buy another, and I can also plant morning glory or scarlet runners to fill it in this season.

This is the south-east part of the deck, looking towards the dining room and kitchen part of the house. On the left is the forsythia, outgrowing its space (because that's what they do, although I prune out the oldest branches ever year so it stays pretty open). In the center is the trellis -- don't mind the patio furniture cover, it hasn't exactly been a warm spring, barring a nice day here and there -- and then on the right end of the deck, you can barely see our new, tiny, Umbrella Bamboo, Fargesia murialae. It clumps! It's semi-evergreen, and it eventually gets at least 6 feet tall! It was only in the ground for a few minutes before the breeze started teasing it and the dry leaves made a soft, papery rustling sound. Love.

I also divided up the plain-jane perennials that had run rampant in this bed, and put some much smaller clumps back, this time on the outside edge of the bed.

I'm really pleased with this garden project. It's the first of this year's spring yard projects to be completed start to finish, and I think we will get years of enjoyment out of that trellis. It was pretty "sustainable," as most of the trellis is made up of metal scraps that were heading to the recycling depot, and we used rust paint that otherwise would have just dried up and been thrown out. The best part is that we designed and made it ourselves!

One Egret

2009-04-28T22:57:00.006-03:00

On Sunday Dad and I spent a few hours at his work, cutting, bending, and welding strips of metal for a trellis we're working on. We stopped by an empty lot in the industrial park where people (possibly the nearby senior's home?) dump their yard waste. We scored a giant clump of daylilies (I expect Stella d'Oro since they're so common), a handful of tiny spring bulbs that I think are Scilla siberica, and a type of rose was abandoned long ago and naturalized, which my father sort of remembers to be white with a prominent yellow center. I'll know for sure once it blooms!

We also found a young beech tree to plant, which we are both rather geekily keen on. I have high hopes that ours is resistant to the beech bark disease, since we found it in Woodside, which is one of the longest-exposed areas to the disease (it was introduced to North America via Halifax in 1891), and none of the beeches in the grove were afflicted (that I could see). The tree's name is either Beatrice or Bernice. I like Beatrice more as a name, but Bernice seems to fit Woodside better.

Then, to cap off a lovely sunny day (although the wind was puffy and cold), on our way home we saw this Great Egret hunting for little eels in a small marsh right next to the road:

(The egret is over-exposed because the camera couldn't light meter properly for his brightness - and I also over-corrected the saturation when I corrected the exposure as best I could. Normally I wouldn't point this out but I'm feeling confessional tonight and too lazy to fix it).

PS: I'm still keeping up with my NS Landscape blog, I try to post once a week. My latest post is on Devil's Island.

Guestblog

2009-04-21T23:04:00.003-03:00

I wrote my first guestblog this week! You can find it over at The Egalitarian Bookworm, which I read regularly. I actually wrote two posts for blog author Fellowette. The guestpost has me rather literally chewing over the scenery on the Little Dorrit miniseries currently airing on PBS. The other blog, which I will post below, were some general comments on Episode 4, which aired this past Sunday.

_________________

Episode four of Little Dorrit, “In Which the Plot Continues to Build Just Like the Other Three Episodes So Far.” I started reading the book about the same time as the miniseries started airing. Last week was the first week I was ahead of the novel, and since I finished it last week, the interest is building to find out how Andrew Davies finishes up the story – his adaptation has been pretty faithful so far.

Some of the highlights of this week’s episode for me:

The “previous episode” montage – why in the world was the final clip of that montage the shot of Rigaud/Blandois barking? “Last week on Masterpiece Theatre: momentous event, touching moment, building mystery, summary of characters, swelling music, man barks like dog. End summary.”

Flora’s staircase groping – this was made even more hilarious just knowing that it is in the book as well. Doyce and Clennam

The amount of hat-wearing. I always judge the quality of a costume drama based on the amount of hat and bonnet-wearing. Poor quality versions (see: Billie Piper Mansfield Park) always have the heroine walking around in public without a bonnet on, yet if it was actually 1812/1825/1848/etc., any lady in public without a bonnet on was bound to be a total hussy. Of course, moments after I wrote “HATS. Good on the filmmakers” in my notebook, Little Dorrit showed up in scene without one on. The filmmakers were spared my hissy fit by having LD carrying her bonnet in her hands, but I remain skeptical.

I am uninitiated into the mysteries of the Anglican Church, but I thought Fanny and Sparkler’s wedding looked awfully big C Catholic to me. And I know that can’t possibly be right, because I read Georgette Heyer’s Devil’s Cub so I know that all Protestant English people abroad search high and low for protestant clergy to make the marriages legit, right?

John Chivery’s visit to Dad Dorrit was fantastic. DD was threatening and remorseful and proud and predictably changeable (e.g., same old codger as always with a soupcon of fire poker), and Chivery was suitably terrified and bewildered. I cannot WAIT for him to show his stuff next episode (provided it goes similar to what happens in the book). But I have to say, having read the book and also a chapter from Christine Stansell’s book City of Women into which garish working class clothing plays an important historical role, I wish his waistcoat was a bit flashier.

Matthew Macfadyen’s acting – this, not so much because he had a lot to work with, particularly with L.D. so far away in Venice – but because I have been watching the first season of MI5 (Spooks) on PBS and am smitten with Macfadyen’s character Tom Quinn. I mean, I’ll be honest here: I thought he was a pretty bland Mr. Darcy, rather sullen and brattish, yet meek. Matthew Macfadyen is to blankface as Michael Emerson is to wide-eyed scheming. But watching him employ blankface as a spy softened me toward Macfadyen overall, so that watching Arthur Clennam this week meant I saw gentleness instead of confusion. You get to sort of watch thoughts wash over Clennam's face, without having a clue what he's thinking (unless you've read the book). It was an improvement in helping me appreciate Macfadyen's acting (although I still think Arthur has more spirit than Macfadyen gives him credit for - he was a little too tentative when he called Rigaud a scoundrel).

Pysanky

2009-04-09T22:26:00.003-03:00

My best friend decided we needed to learn how to decorate pysanky (Ukrainian easter eggs) this year. I was more than happy to go along. We took a 3-hour class with a local artist last Saturday, and then had to fend off headaches/migraines for the rest of the day! Note: staring into a candle for hours may be hazardous to your health.

Once I learned to only decorate in bright light, the eyesight issue was mostly resolved. I decorated the egg above - my second attempt - last Saturday, and the one below (for my best friend, hence the initials) tonight. In this second egg, I was layering light blue over red, and took the egg out before the red was completely gone. While wet it was still a dark purple colour, but unfortunately it dried navy blue. I don't have an issue with navy blue, but I know my friend J. wanted eggs in more pastel colours. Sorry, J! Maybe on my next try.

What I've been up to

2009-03-31T23:32:00.002-03:00

I'm test running a new blog idea! You can take a look at it here, let me know what you think if you think anything. No pressure.

I do really like the concept for the other blog, but will continue to blog here as my personal blog. The other one is more topical and focused, but I'm still going to need an outlet for my garden attempts, birdwatching, and other miscellanea.

From MacDonald Hill

2009-03-28T00:28:00.003-03:00

I took this last November from the top of MacDonald Hill (the one with a house on it) in Lawrencetown, NS. On a windy day you can almost lean over the bank and the gusts alone will prevent you from tumbling over the edge. It's much nicer to have the wind prevent you from falling than it is having it try and buffet you off.

I edited this image tonight for a little project I'm working on, and decided to share it here. The colours work well with my previous post. More on the new project in a bit.

Johnny jumps early

2009-03-23T12:11:00.004-03:00

I will absolutely not be discouraged by the 15 cm (6 inches) of snow predicted for this afternoon and overnight, because I have steeled myself for snowfall well into April.* I am optimistic that, even though only the top 3 inches of ground has thawed, whatever snow falls is not here to stay. Still, I won't refrain from calling the first flower of the season a little premature, not that I'm going to complain. Tough little johnny jump-up won't be fazed by the looming blanket of snow, anyway.

Oh lawd, I just realized I'm in my purple prose phase of spring (note: I was restraining myself up above). It's usually brought on by spending a sunny March afternoon doing garden chores, and can only be cured by a healthy dose of L.M. Montgomery novels. I'll have to hold off on that for now.

*Updated to add: CBC radio just reported that the snowfall record for March 23 was in 2005, when we got 40 cm (16 inches) of snow - if I wasn't planning on complaining before, I'm certainly not now.

Hope springs eternal thesis completion

2009-03-04T10:29:00.006-04:00

I'm eager to get on with my thesis and with some early spring seed-sowing in the coldframe, but the latter must wait on the construction of said coldframe (fingers crossed it is finished before my father --the builder-- goes on vacation to Arizona), and the former waits on, well, my ability to get over my strong aversion to all academic writing even remotely related to Ian McKay. McKay, you're very smart, but you are my wall.

I know it's self-evident, but it is still worth repeating: the longer you work on a thesis, the longer it takes to complete it. It's like a mathematical formula that never approaches zero. Jana, Jacquie, can you shed a little light on this for me?

I can at least take solace in the fact that as the days get longer my determination to finish the thesis grows as well. Spring = thesis completed = flowers and gardening, and this kind of thinking might just be what helps get me through the next month or so. Then I can enjoy things like this:

Yellow flag irises in the front yard,

An unnamed, pretty non-descript green heuchera variety with the most intense coral flowers,

And the serene blooms and soft, leathery leaves of the magnolia.

Winter eye candy

2009-02-26T22:05:00.005-04:00

I went through some of last year's pictures tonight, looking for something to post. I haven't taken many (any?) pictures lately I thought worth sharing. Although I have been considering sharing some of my thesis work with you, I'm also nervous because the darn thing just isn't finished. Oh, in principle it's all there, but the fine tuning is not finished that will allow me to sign my name on it with satisfaction.

It was absolutely wonderful therapy looking at these pictures tonight. I had almost forgotten that things like warmth and green and busy insects and baby hares and blooming flowers and watchful frogs and keen-eyed thrushes even existed! Spring and summer are going to be sublime when they finally arrive!

Since I was doing what was essentially "window shopping" in my photo files, I thought I would share some eye candy with you -- candy tuft, that is. After planting it two years ago, the annual candy tuft has seeded with polite abandon, and pollinating insects seem to love it. To take this lame-duck metaphor to its sad, pathetic conclusion, you might even say they are "sweet" on it?

Don't worry, I'm clutching my head and groaning for you. Here are my pics:

Butterfly

Bee

and Hummingbird Moth

and a bonus, for your patience:

This is last year's planter in front of the bay window (its last summer there).

Diving Lessons

2009-02-02T14:00:00.002-04:00

Of the chickadee variety.

Black-Capped and Boreal Chickadee compare technique, Feb. 1, 2009.

The cat said...

2009-01-31T12:31:00.002-04:00

..."wake me when winter's over."

She made the mistake of looking out the window and saw this:

She's right, the landscape does look a bit like one of Saturn's moons right now:

But I'm still optimistic that spring is coming. The Goldfinches are putting on their summer colours, and the bluejays are looking brighter too.

image of Dione, credit NASA/JPL (download here)

Boreal Chickadee soap opera in the works?

2009-01-26T17:13:00.003-04:00

Almost year ago I blogged about our first sighting of a Boreal Chickadee in our yard. We saw him periodically through the summer and then not at all in the autumn. About two weeks ago we saw the Boreal Chickadee for this first time this winter. Today as I was standing at the kitchen window I saw a little flash at the suet feeder, and saw not just one Boreal, but another one waiting for his or her time at the suet.

I'm trying not to be too optimistic, but I thought I saw them inspecting a tree back in the woods that has a chickadee-sized birdhouse on it. The pair could be parent-child, siblings, or Just Friends, but I'm hoping that they are teaming up for slightly more procreational purposes (which I think is likely, since from what I can tell of our Boreal, he/she is solitary). This would be very cool, not just because I take an inappropriate amount of interest in the breeding activities of the birds in our yard, but because Boreal Chickadee populations have declined 73 per cent in the last 40 years.

I'm totally going to be the nosy neighbour watching family drama through the dining room window, binoculars in hand. You can rest assured I'll send all the Chickadee gossip your way...

Mr. Bear 2 takes a break

2009-01-25T15:38:00.003-04:00

You can tell he's Mr. Bear 2 because he still has his eyes. Mr. Bear 2 was allowed to get some rest while my 2 1/2 year old nephew helped KoKo make "apple PIE??" upstairs.

Mr. Bear, meanwhile, was splayed out on the floor like a possum playing dead. He uses a number of coping methods to get by.

Eryngium lost and found

2009-01-16T14:56:00.004-04:00

I was looking through pictures from last summer to include in my updated portfolio (it's sort of attempt #2 - I got into the Masters of Landscape Architecture program last year, but was unable to attend, so now I have to reapply). Last summer I was so stressed and distracted by my thesis, that it felt like a pretty creatively bleak time. Going through the pictures now, though, I am finding lots of really neat shots, plus many, many pictures of bees (I love me some pollinators).

Anyway. Here's a crop of a macro of an Eryngium from the front bed. I took this in September:

Negligent

2009-01-15T16:40:00.003-04:00

I regret that I have been neglected this blog for the last few months. November was a creative dry spell, December I spent making presents, and January, well, this month my time is occupied by grad school applications and my thesis. Yes, that darn thesis. I have decided to finish it after all, so I have been immersing myself in 144 pages of not-yet-edited paving campaigns and tourism brochures, plus books about 1930s provincial politics and tourism across Canada. I'm finally determined to finish.

One of the few absolute positives about finishing this thesis is that I am forced to be in town more and therefore guaranteed to have more ferry trips. No matter whether the ferry is packed with people or practically empty, I always love a ferry ride, especially during the sailing off-season. I took the above picture from the ferry one night in November when the light and my shutter speed had a moment of cooperation. The sentence on the next photo is carved into one of the seats on the bottom deck. I often wonder what the person was going through when he or she wrote it. I imagine some desperate, lonely gambler making his way home from the Casino and am reminded once again why I don't like gambling (even when Georgette Heyer makes it a subject of irony and humour in the Regency Era).

Of course, that is an awfully depressing photo to leave off on, especially in a post that should essentially communicate my optimism. Between this post and my "Dartmouth Gothic" post the evidence is growing that Seasonal Affective Disorder may have set up camp in my brain - so in honour of the American robin that I saw on the lilac bush on Sunday, I'll end with warmer thoughts:

I call this one "Robin Fluffing".

Coconut snow

2009-01-07T23:57:00.005-04:00

One of the things you learn about Nova Scotia very quickly is that it has very changeable weather, no matter what the time of year. In the winter, you might get an arctic blast followed by snow moving in from the west followed by a warm wind coming up from the southeast that turns everything to rain and slush and fog, while 20 kilometres away they have snowpellets and just over the hill from them it is sunny, all within eight hours. There might be 10 knots of wind in Halifax harbour and 54 knots of wind in Cheticamp. Some people don't like this changeability and randomness at all. Me, I eat it up. I love the unpredictable weather. My mother loves the opportunities for amateur meteorology. But I wouldn't complain if just one day, it snowed coconut. I like coconut too.

This snowman - all credit going to my friend Jana - is from the gingerbread house Mom and I made this year, which is a replica (in shape, at least) of the Pleasant Point lighthouse.

Pig Bums for Christmas

2009-01-01T17:26:00.005-04:00

I don't mean to be rude by forcing pig bums on you right away, but I want to share what I think is the absolute cutest angle of the gifts I made for my nephews this Christmas. I had an excessive amount of fun shaping these two pig butts (as well as the rest of the pigs) out of newspaper and masking tape, before covering them in paper mache.

The idea for my piggy bank gifts came from me and my very thin wallet, insruction from this online tutorial that I found, and the knowledge that every 2-to-4 year-old enjoys dropping money in piggy banks and then shaking it out on the floor - an operation that started within moments of my nephews opening their gifts.

And since you've forgiven the pig butts so far as to continue reading, here is the more conventional angle - the little piggy faces:

Dartmouth Gothic

2008-12-30T22:57:00.004-04:00

Across Portland Street, one block away,
They are flashing the church tower
and caulking windows. Someone dangles against the siding
over there from a nylon apparatus,
poking and prodding the long-gone Scottish masons'
monument to Providence and economy.

Man-sized dentures tremble
from the passing buses. Tim Hortons teems
with humanity, And Value Village
touts its bargain prices and quality used goods.

That picture is incomplete, part left out
that might alter the whole Dartmouth landscape:
The canal that lies buried beneath pavement, empty lots,
and condos. The Irish shantytown disassembled
or rotted away a hundred years before:
The factory where the first Modern Skate was born,
old blockhouses and Mi'kmaq encampments,
Duc D'Anville's failed expedition
sails limply in to the harbour, and the sound of wooden pegs
being pounded into obsolete wooden schooners.

Do the men work for those people long gone?
Or for the man in holey jogging pants, thinning hair in disarray,
who waits for the 58 bus, for the youths who show up
for their weekly bagpipe session
or the women dropping by Antoine's for their weekly
set and curl.
Something is about to happen. Plastic bags lie still.
One block away, a man hammering in the sky.
Harnessed.

Yeah, so I totally spoofed Al Purdy's Wilderness Gothic. It's killer! One of my favourite poems. I just thought it suited this Dartmouth take on the image.

Feels like...

2008-12-30T17:25:00.002-04:00

I puttered around the yard yesterday, belatedly covering over and mulching some plants. The sun was shining and the temperature was about 8 degrees Celsius. It felt like this:

Cyril the crow

2008-11-26T22:23:00.003-04:00

Dad found an injured crow in the back yard yesterday evening, picked him up, and placed him in our old bird feeder cage. It was a very blustery night, I could hear the roof and walls creaking and heaving with each gust, and I was glad we were able to give him shelter. The crow was quite calm the whole time, did not peck or hiss. He felt warmer than I thought he would, and his feathers were firm and soft. Yes, I totally want a pet crow now.

He made it through the night and I brought him to the Eastern Shore Veterinary Hospital in Porters Lake today. They are one of the animal hospitals that provide wildlife care for the Hope for Wildlife Society (an animal rehabilitation centre in Seaforth). Hopefully they were able to treat Cyril (that is what Dad is apparently calling him) and he can be rehabilitated. I will be able to call tomorrow to get an update.

I think it is interesting that the night there was a crow under our roof, I dreamed that my cat Willow came back after being gone for ten years. Do crows bring dreams?

I crochet it back

2008-11-24T16:56:00.000-04:00

Perhaps my blog the other day was a little premature. It was poorly titled, at least, because I haven't really been blue this November (I chose the colour because of the reference). And second, I have actually been doing some creative things. Cooking and baking, for one, which I consider a creative activity because it is all about knowing your ingredients and I never stick to recipes. But as well as practicing my culinary skills, I taught myself to crochet. Why? For purely self-interested reasons - because I love Christmas ornaments, and I wanted to make them for myself.

The stitches are easy enough in crochet - the real challenge is in figuring out what the directions mean. It's a great activity for long winter evenings spent by the fire. The one downfall is that you can't read and crochet at the same time. Maybe it's time to bring back those pre-radio-era evenings when families read out loud while spending time in the sitting room. But not if that means I have to stop watching Lost.

Creative November blues

2008-11-20T14:13:00.004-04:00

I have not been terribly inspired since the month started, especially as far as photography goes. I have been making plenty of messes in the kitchen - from cashew chicken curry, to cranberry scones, to apple pumpkin muffins, to rosehip jam, to leek soup - but artistically I am trying to soldier on through until the bug hits me again. Maybe it is some kind of ancient human behaviour, that we put aside art for the month of November in order to prepare our homes and larders for the long winter ahead.

Last night as I was ready to stumble (okay, jump; can I help it that in my mid-20's I still jump into bed? No. Fear of things that grab you by the ankles is timeless, just ask my father and his prankster boss) into bed, I decided to quickly take a picture of a messy little corner of my dresser. Was it inspiration hitting me, or merely a half-asleep delusion?

Who knows, but I am happy with the result - this abstract little feather photo. Past blog posts have focused on the inspiration I find (only somewhat oddly) in feathers. But more importantly, capturing this image reminded me that you can't force anything in November, unless you are forcing bulbs (which is a great way to cheer yourself up in the winter, hint hint - those cheap amaryllis and hyacinth bulbs at the grocery store are worth it).

Maybe I wish I was being more productive getting the garden ready for its winter sleep, painting trim in the garage, editing my semi-abandoned thesis, or sketching new garden plans and doing some watercolour painting. But November is for roosting - for gathering around you all the warm and comfortable things that will help you make it through the winter - and if that means creativity is put on the back burner for a while, you can't think of that as a negative thing. And if you are lucky, while you are off doing other things, inspiration will find you, if just for a moment.

Hyacinth bulb waiting in the dark of the coldroom until it is time to come out

Allee

2008-11-14T01:09:00.002-04:00

Taken at the K.C. Irving Botanical Gardens, Wolfville, N.S. 30 Oct. 2008.

Poxy Foxy

2008-11-06T00:37:00.005-04:00

Foxes are great. They're one of my favourite animals. And you can't really blame one if he accidentally comes down with rabies and just happens to bite a human, can you? It's what rabid foxes do. Nevertheless, it isn't the fox in this story that deserves all the attention - it's the female jogger who "ran a mile with the animal's jaws clamped on her arm and then drove herself to a hospital."

It bit her foot, and when she went to pry it off, it bit her arm. So she continued jogging back to her car, threw it in the trunk (so it could be tested for rabies, naturally), and drove to a hospital. That woman is badass and street/nature smart. Awesome.

The fox at the top of this post is of course not the fox in question, but rather a totally adorable and absolutely menacing baby fox that was at the Shubenacadie Wildlife Park last summer. For illustration's sake.

**Update: I found this story on a couple blogs, and it looks like it is getting picked up now by the news organizations as well. The BBC version is here.

Rosy autumn

2008-11-05T13:58:00.003-04:00

The foliage of the wild roses has been positively glowing lately. I'm not terribly sympathetic to roses in gardens - they always seem to be so much effort, and I never seem to like the shape of their growth habit. They seem a little too fussy, a little too demure. When I first smelled a rose as a child, I was nonplussed - all it smelled like was soap (I only realized much later that some soap smells like roses). I don't mind the idea of roses, but whenever they appear in fairy tales, it often leads to other flowers getting shorter shrift (note: that's how I fell in love with poppies. I read The Wild Swans fairytale, and I loved that the poisoned frogs turned into poppies, not roses).

But

I do love wild roses, and crazy cultivated roses that just want to run amok (like rugosas). In fact, I rather like their exuberance. It's like their economic use of petals allows them to direct their attentions to their roots and suckers and, most importantly, their fall foliage and rose hips. I loooove rose hips, so much more than the flowers that precede them. I am desperate to make rosehip jelly, and I don't even know what it tastes like.

If you read my blog regularly, you know where this is going: Pictures!

Wild rose foliage actually makes it to frost, and as a result, you get this lovely autumn rainbow of foliage colour, all on the one plant.

And the rosehips look so delectable, I completely understand why birds and rodents like them. Unfortunately, we humans have to prepare them in order to really enjoy them.

Crossings colour

2008-10-24T10:22:00.005-03:00

I did get at least one picture of fall colour before the wind started whipping the leaves off all the trees. I took this last Friday at the edge of (believe it or not) Dartmouth Crossings. You can find beauty in odd places, even though the park itself looks like one giant scar on the landscape. (Dartmouth Crossings is a big-box store commercial park, for those of you not from around here)

I actually give Dartmouth Crossings credit for their plant selection for the medians and sidewalk plantings in the park. They have lots of grasses and hardy roses and even Russian sage and profusely flowering lavender, and the shrubs and trees are all well chosen for their fully grown size. I have been known to grab a few lavender flower stalks on occasion, they make the car smell heavenly. I have to approve lavender in a business park.

Golden age of sail

2008-10-23T00:51:00.003-03:00

Sailing is over for the year and the boat came out of the water yesterday. Today we received an email from our skipper about boat improvements, including an exciting addition to the boat* - a swanky new mainsail.

When we talk about the colour gold in autumn, we're usually talking about the changing leaves, but since I have sailing on the brain, I want to share this picture instead, taken during a race in July. The breeze can drop off dramatically in the July and August evenings. This is not usually a problem for us (so long as we stay ahead of the pack), but the slower boats are often still racing when the evening land/sea breeze change happens. This makes for a sometimes-difficult tactical decision; do you take the shortest course to the finish line, which may mean being blanketed by McNab's Island, or do you take the longer course, where there may be more wind?

I'm glad I will have pictures to help me remember those golden evenings when the north wind is whipping around the eaves and blasting ice against the windows.

*exciting if you are a sailor and like high-tech sails, that is.

Refired Retired

2008-10-14T17:54:00.003-03:00

Motoring across the harbour on Saturday morning on the way to the race start, we saw smoke coming from the Dartmouth Shipyards. Later in the day (much later - it was a long race), as we rounded the buoy at Dartmouth Cove we saw the cause of the black smoke - a Canadian Coast Guard ship, which was being refitted, was apparently/possibly the object of an arson attack. Since they moved the race finish to the Dartmouth Cove buoy, I had time after the race to take pictures.

Burned-out ships aren't normally my preferred photo subjects. I prefer flowers and kitty cats and teddy-bears, dontcha know. But my mother likes to document odd things - dead rats, broken appliances, that sort of thing - so I thought she might appreciate some pictures of the ship, since she was not sailing with us. And since I don't have any other pictures from this past Thanksgiving and birthday weekend, you get to see one too.

On cats

2008-10-10T20:49:00.005-03:00

I know I mentioned it before, but I have a lovely cat. I have had her for just over five years now, and she gets more delightful every year. Of course, the hairballs, shedding, and litter box remains the same, but that's cat ownership for you, especially if it's a long-haired tortie in question. These are sacrifices I am willing to make (and willing to force upon roommates or parents) because having a soft, warm cat curled up at my side, and snorgling sun-warmed fur, makes them worth it.

L.M. Montgomery was an avid cat-lover, as you probably noticed if you have read any of her novels (primarily beyond the Anne books, although the story of Rusty in Anne of the Island shows that L.M.M. was more sympathetic to cats than Anne was). The Emily trilogy is full of adorable cats, and The Blue Castle
is not devoid of cat-worshiping as well. I particularly like Valancy's observation that,

"People who don't like cats always seem to think that there is some peculiar virtue in not liking them."

(If I were writing an academic paper right now I'd have to 'explain the significance' of the quotation, but I'll just let you puzzle that out.)

Montgomery put her cats' fur in her scrapbooks. I'm rather comforted to learn I'm not the only weirdo who saves their cat's fur. I have fur from my dear departeds, Dusty and Willow, in a little keepsake somewhere in among my many storage boxes. Did I read too many Dickens novels growing up? Am I a hair away from Victorian mourning lockets? Maybe I was just channeling L.M.M.

And, of course, this blog post is cat-themed, because I plan on sharing a picture of Olivia. I make no apology, first, because I've already shared my wacky cat-love above, second, because I haven't shared a cat picture in a long while, and finally, because Livy is Totally Cute.

Quarter Century musings

2008-10-09T17:45:00.006-03:00

It's the end of the sailing season and the end of a quarter century for me. We have two races left, and I am turning a majestic and impressive (hah) twenty-five.

Sometimes I feel a little sad, pensive, and quite frankly, 'failed,' when I consider the last three years. I don't know that I have done enough to have really "earned" 25, and it's a little depressing to turn a personal milestone while feeling that I haven't achieved enough (without firm goals, it's hard to measure my amount of success or failure, but I am, overall, dissatisfied). If I were going to be morbid (I just finished re-reading North and South, and poor Miss Hale is bombarded by death, hence the direction of my thoughts), I would make a comparison between "milestones" and gravestones, or maybe millstones, you know, the road of life and its markers, things that weigh us down, etc., etc., but I know you all come here for my sparkling wit and steady optimism, so you can just pretend I didn't say that.

Because other times, I'm just really grateful that I am able to spend another year in a province that I love, and my heart just expands with thankfulness and joy in living and liking living and being alive and seeing other live things and watching the seasons turn and laughing at myself and daydreaming and, well, generally when I am in a good mood my thoughts get a little fragmented, but I start to feel like maybe enjoying life is enough. Then I take a picture of our yard monster:

It's Calendu-La, the wicked seedster! Beware his wrath and spiny talons. Rawr!

Faerie seats

2008-09-18T23:27:00.003-03:00

Conditions were perfect in Nova Scotia this summer for fungi, and I have been seeing interesting mushrooms everywhere. Even so, I was very impressed by these toadstools growing under a tree on my brother and sister-in-law's property in the Valley last week. The toadstools were as tall as my hand! I really do think Nova Scotia is probably only second to PEI among Canadian provinces for its faerie-friendliness, and September and October are their golden months.

Convoy Cup 2008

2008-09-15T12:08:00.004-03:00

I didn't take any pictures from the Convoy Cup, but I may "borrow" some from my mother later. Briefly, the Convoy Cup is a sailing race from Halifax Harbour down to Cross Island (near Lunenburg), and back. We took about 20 hours to finish the race, and placed 4th in the spinnaker class of (I believe) 15 boats. We did shifts of 4 people, 3 hours on and 3 hours off, and made a number of sail changes, from the #1 jib, down to the #2 and back up again, an A-kite run, and a full spinnaker run.

One of the bloggers I follow wrote a post about the shift towards autumn and the thinning veil - one symptom of which is the behaviour of animals all around us. I certainly have been noticing more and more animal activity lately, and our sail was no exception. We had a number of whale sightings, the odd seal, fish jumping in the harbour, hunting osprey, the ubiquitous flocks of seagulls, and even, on my 10 p.m. - 1 a.m. shift, a porpoise swimming alongside us and playing in our bow wake.

It was cloudy throughout the night, but the race wasn't entirely without starlight - as the boat moved through the water, our wake triggered a phosphorescence that made the water glitter with hundreds of infinitisimal little sparks of light. It was the first time I have seen ocean phosphorescence, and it was entrancing.

I can't believe sailing is almost over for the year!

Ghost Trees

2008-09-06T01:23:00.003-03:00

I sat down to edit/process some pictures tonight and was bogged down by my indecisiveness. You can only edit a picture of clouds for so long before you go crazy, so to maintain my sanity I let myself go crazy editing this picture of some trees burnt during the forest fire in June. And then I watched "She's the Man" on television, because Amanda Bynes and that joke with the tampons is hilarious. Or at least my funny bone thinks so.

Anyway,

Ghost Trees

Changes in the wind...

2008-09-01T10:41:00.003-03:00

The news from me will be along shortly - but the primary note of interest is that I have put off my next degree for another year, and will be able to spend another blissful autumn and damp winter here in my beautiful home province. It also means more sailing, a definite doubleplusgood.

Hopefully I'll be able to start going through pictures soon and posting them along with some words about my doings in August (Chester Race Week, nephews, forest fire scars, gardening, blueberries, and so on). But since it is Labour Day, I naturally intend to do some fun labour - we have a few plants (oh, just a handful really!) strategically hidden around the yard that need to be planted.

Think that "few" and "hidden" doesn't really reveal the true state of things? Well, they were all on sale, at least...

Anyway, until my next photo editing mood, I leave you with this peaceful scene from the Public Gardens. It definitely helped me on the day that I took it. At the risk of over-explaining its appeal to me, I like the combination of blur and texture from the leaves and grasses.

Ghost Plant

2008-08-04T01:27:00.003-03:00

Aka Indian Pipes, (although I dislike that name), aka Monotropa uniflora. Apparently these are not fungi, but they are saprophytes (live on decaying matter), and are related to blueberries and rhododendrons!

Indian Pipes are best known facing down, but these ones turned face-up sometime over the last day or two. Taken in our woods.

There are some lovely, much better photos of these on flickr.

Triptych in macro

2008-08-01T18:07:00.003-03:00

Vertical, rather than horizontal, by virtue of blog templates.

Today I wrote about paving. Yep.

(Okay, okay, I admit it; I actually like talking about paving. I'm a historian, so sue me!)

Thesis causes rift in space-time continuum. Plus more flowers.

2008-07-31T16:04:00.004-03:00

I did the unthinkable last night - skipped sailing in order to work on my thesis! It paid off more or less, though, since my second chapter is mostly finished. I'm thinking positive thoughts once again, and whenever things get a bit grim, I contemplate the california poppies in the front yard.

I also keep a little sprig of lavender with me at the computer, I smell it when I get a little anxious. Is that odd? Well it works, so it can't be that strange. The bees remind me to stay busy, too.

It's a bit busy at 400 pixels - best viewed large.

Balm

2008-07-29T22:58:00.003-03:00

Last week I saw this picture over at a blog I read and was absolutely entranced. It's beautiful. It also reminded me that hummingbirds like bee balm, and my one-year-old bee balm was planning on finally blooming (its first year was rough).

I was very, very pleased, then, the first day the flowers were fully open, to meet a male hummingbird while I was out admiring the bee balm, yarrow, and blanketflower. He doesn't come to the feeders (I think he's a polygamist, honest, he likes to keep his home life and his home life separate), so I'm glad to see I can nourish him somehow. Anyway, the very next day I was contemplating the flowers (yes, I do that a lot, but I'm a gardener, remember?) when a female hummingbird started feeding from the bee balm, less than an arm's length away from me.

Anyway, long story short, my picture isn't half so lovely as the one over at Blue Ridge blog, but she's a professional, and I'm just glad I got the chance to document a little slice of summer! Without any further ado:

Ankles Schmankles

2008-07-29T01:22:00.006-03:00

I'm up to my neck in thesis, a little water is nuttin' (knock on wood, obviously, I don't need a downpour in my office while I'm writing).

I'm up late writing tonight, but felt like a little procrastination was in order as well. We are putting in a patio, and Mom has done a lot of backbreaking work to clear out the grass and clay soil. Then we got a month's worth of rain in two days. And this was what our new patio looked like:

The water mostly drained away (we have drainage issues; one of the reasons for the patio), but not before our backyard lake was discovered by a frog. No pictures of him at the moment, but he's totally adorable.

P.S.: I'll have the silly/cheesy photo editing out of my system soon, ~~I swear~~ ~~I half-heartedly commit~~ no, really.

Scanner

2008-07-11T00:49:00.005-03:00

We bought a scanner in preparation for today's trip to Pleasant Point/Kent Island, my grandmother's family home, for a small reunion and a chance to look at photos and family memorabilia. Today's event followed the death of my great uncle, Ivan Kent, in March. He was a great story-teller, a real troublemaker (with his brother Graham), a welcoming host alongside his wife Mildred, and much more besides.

In the end, though, we weren't really able to get through much family lore at all, although I did find one of the most confusing postcards ever (and quite a few racy, risque, and often highly offensive sailors/soldiers postcards from the Second World War. The most common punchline involved a woman's rear end being shaped like a heart). Tell me, do you think the viewer is supposed to assume most of these babies are going to drown? What is the point of sending them to their deaths on a play train? Do you think the little girl in the bonnet has masterminded it all? And do you think this early form of photo-shopping is more or less appealing than Anne Geddes' baby-in-a-pumpkin-type work?

The first picture above, by the way, is in fact the Kent family lighthouse, viewed from the house. It is also a very recent photo, as the power lines indicate - May 2008, in fact. Please forgive me my own immoderate photo editing, whether or not it is as heinous as the Victorian example above.

Allium Christophii

2008-07-10T01:30:00.002-03:00

It's been very dry by Nova Scotian standards, but I took this picture one day last week when we had a little bit of light misting. The Allium Christophii are almost completely open now.

(Also testing some photo software that came with a new scanner - more on the reasons for the scanner tomorrow).

Feeling bluuuuue

2008-06-30T14:29:00.003-03:00

Well, I glumly admitted over a month ago that none of the meconopsis seeds I planted were going to come up. I did have two seedlings before I left for Cyprus in April, but those were obviously doomed from the start - no offense to my father who looked after my plants while I was away. Meconopsis seeds are notoriously fussy.

So if I can't have a Himalayan blue poppy of my own (despite the fact that I have the perfect spot for it, queue dramatic sigh), I can enjoy them in other ways. To whit:

This is an edit of a photo of my beloved orange Spanish poppy, which blooms its little head off from mid-June into October! If you were to zoom in on this snap shot, you'd notice it's a bit out of focus, but I don't mind. The flowers sway like crazy in the littlest breeze, making it hard to get a good shot, but excellent for dreamy contemplation.

Not that I'm ever dreamy these days. Darn thesis!

Also blooming, Jacob's ladder.

The leaves smell like skunk spray, the flowers smell like grape kool-aid. Go figure.

Forest Fire in Porters Lake

2008-06-15T16:47:00.006-03:00

It's been an anxious couple of days here in the Porters Lake/Mineville/Lake Echo area, but I have just come down from the roof after watching the Quebec water bomber take care of the fire closest to us, I feel like I can relax a bit (and our internet is back!).

Here is the gist of the story from my perspective: Friday afternoon and evening, I was stuck at work while feeling the wind whip in from the north and watching the fire build and seem to engulf Mineville/Porters Lake. I had a long, cold ride home on my bike following another friend from the area in her car, rather than have to stay at a comfort centre overnight (the only road in left to take - it took me 1 hour 50 min to get home, rather than 14 minutes). I'm glad I did, too, because while we were optimistic there would be roads open in the morning, the authorities actually closed everything down even firmer, and I wouldn't have been able to get home at all. Saturday we spent doing yard work, getting updates about who in our church was evacuated next, and who may have lost their homes to the blaze. We listened anxiously to the news station (95.7, God bless you), keeping an eye on the weather vane and watching the fires from the roof as they built. Around 1:30 p.m., we quickly packed everything we may want or need, while I looked at the rest and thought only about how much of our "stuff," in the end, is merely kindling for a fire.

The water bomber stopped at sunset and most of the firefighters in the woods were pulled out, with enough left to defend the houses that were threatened. Last night, we went up on the roof and saw the glow from the fires, seemingly just over the ridge. From our house straight across to Mineville is only 5 km, and the fire was 3 km wide. Do you call it a miracle or God's hand, that if the wind were more easterly or more westerly, we could have lost all of Mineville or all of West Porters Lake? Or is it just good luck or nothing at all? I'm just grateful.

The wind died a bit overnight, not that I slept any better for it, waking up every ten minutes to sniff for smoke (if I smelled smoke, it meant the wind direction had changed and we were in its path), or to see if that car going down the road was the RCMP to evacuate us. A friend who lives a kilometre away was evacuated at 10:30 p.m. Earlier in the evening, he went up to Snow's Lake and saw three fires burning, one of them on the Western and Northern shore across from him!

By today, the Newfoundland water bomber was accompanied by bombers from New Brunswick and Quebec. Dad and I went down to Capri Island to watch them take on water in the lake. For the most part, I handled the excitement of the conflagration pretty poorly - I couldn't focus, relax, or keep busy. But watching the water bombers at their work has been such a comfort, and so cool. Those guys are amazing, going nonstop hour after hour, dumping the water right where they want it. I feel so warmly towards them, like I have just been liberated by the Allies during the Second World War (on a small scale, of course)

We're feeling pretty optimistic tonight. The authorities are still saying the fire is "out of control" and won't even call it "contained" but this evening from the roof, the smoke is not even an eighth of what it was yesterday. The fact that the largest bomber, the Quebec plane, was focusing on the fire over the ridge (rather than the fire near Mineville or Lawrencetown), makes me think they're getting close. Let's pray and hope that the wind favours us this evening, blowing the fire that remains back in on itself.

Thanks for all the messages of concern.

Note: the first two pictures are by my mother, taken Friday afternoon and Saturday afternoon. The pictures of the water bomber are by me, Sunday afternoon.

Fog rolls in

2008-06-12T20:23:00.004-03:00

At the yacht club last night after the race. We came in first, but only three boats finished since the winds were so light. They had to monitor the (shortened) finish line from a boat because the fog was drifting in so thickly. The breeze disappeared as the fog moved in, but the temperature rose too. You've heard it before but I'll say it again: Nova Scotia; Don't like the weather? Wait twenty minutes. It'll change.

Garden power

2008-06-12T20:09:00.005-03:00

I've been stepping out into the yard a few times a day to recharge my batteries as I (attempt to) forge ahead with this thesis. One of the plants that I watch with great pleasure is this Centaurea montana "Gold Bullion", which has two or three flowers starting to open.

Just look at that blue and purple! And the gold-chartreuse leaves are a sight for sore eyes. Well, a sight for eyes that have been staring at a computer screen all day. And then that busy little ant reminds me to get back to work.

Still here...

2008-06-03T23:06:00.006-03:00

... But busy. I've started a new job working at a local garden centre, where I unfortunately have more hours (all of them on cash, pah) than I can manage. Things will be changing on both counts, I have decided. The thesis is languishing, incomplete on my hard drive, even as our garden forges ahead for summer.

Mom and I planted some tulips back in September and tried to time the early, mid and late-bloomers with phases of cheerful colours. The results were surprisingly successful and beautiful (beginners luck?), and certainly helped us work out the last, lingering winter blues. I cut some tulips on Saturday as carefully as I could so I didn't leave any empty spots. I photographed them against a cloudy sky, over-exposing to get the blown-out white background.

also:

Two weekends ago was my older nephew's fourth birthday. We found time to stop at a few nurseries on the way. This was the display of Japanese maples at the Briar Patch in Berwick:

I couldn't stop looking at it. Well, those, the affordable peonies, and the 'Sweet Kate' Tradescantia (we bought two!). In other plant purchasing news: I think the "Kim's Knee High" coneflowers at my workplace were mislabeled at the nursery, and are actually "Green Envy." A half-open flower on a customer's plant last week got my suspicions up, and I would have kicked myself if I didn't buy one just to make sure. I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

Finally, we had a visitor a few weeks ago! We have had two new warblers pass through in the last week (a Magnolia Warbler and a yellow-rumped warbler pair), but this one was in the finch family - an indigo bunting! Unfortunately, he didn't stay long. Our gang of juncos were so jealous of his blue feathers, they wouldn't even let him browse the lawn. Darn juncos. At least I got one semi-decent photo before he was chased off.

I haven't decided if I would do another Cyprus post, this one on "old things." The pictures aren't anything special, but I think I should round out the trip. Honestly, it's not really high on my priority list, but maybe someday soon.

Avakas Gorge, Cyprus

2008-05-11T00:04:00.003-03:00

The first day we had a rental car, we drove north out of Coral Bay towards Lara. We decided to hike the Avakas Gorge, which was pretty positively reviewed in our guide book and seemed like a safer drive, considering Cyprus drivers are crazy and we weren't used to left-sided driving.

Most of Cyprus is composed of different types of limestone, and the Avakas Gorge cuts its way through some of the most brilliant stone. Mom and I were wearing sturdy day-hikers, and I felt a bit out of place at first, walking along a gravel trail and meeting people in flip-flops and ballet flats making their way out. I realized pretty quickly, though, that the funny looks I was getting were probably approval (or perhaps envy), because the path got rocky and slippery and rough not even a kilometre in.

I took many, many pictures of plants while in Cyprus. Not only were the plants 'different,' but nature just seems to be such a clever gardener there, full of perfectly mounding plants and different leaf textures and colour combinations. This picture, for instance, doesn't do Nature's vignette justice. I know as gardeners we "imitate nature," but it never really hit home just how true that is until I was in Cyprus. I would love to have thought up this kind of visual statement! I'd love to plant something similar using local plants and stones.

Speaking of plants - this was growing in the shade sort of close to the stream that flows through the Avakas Gorge. It looks a little bit like an allium, but I'm not certain at all.

The upper part of the gorge has had a number of rock falls, it seems, and Mom and I were just not determined enough to try and make our way over them, without any probably reward for our effort. These goats weren't having much difficulty making their way, however (did you know they were there before I mentioned them?). Most of the goats we saw in the gorge were tagged, so they must belong to somebody. I'd hate to be the goat herd rounding them up.

This is a view from the rockslide area back toward where the gorge narrows. There were actually quite a few goats climbing around on the cliffs. Their bleats were very piercing, even louder than the swallows and crows.

This is Mom in the gorge. It really was magical.

The weather while we were in Cyprus was, for the most part, unseasonably warm (Thirty degrees C, and I melt anywhere above 25 degrees). Not knowing there was a closer parking lot, we parked half a kilometre away from the trail head, on the far side of a very exposed, hot hill (with a lush, enticing orange grove mocking us in the valley down below). We rewarded ourselves for our hard, sweaty hike by jaunting a bit further up the main road, to the north beach at Cape Lara, best known for being the breeding site of Leatherback turtles. It was still a month or two before egg laying season, though, so the beach was still open to visitors. We dipped our feet in the Mediterranean and then sat on the sand and ate greek-style pitas with eggplant dip before calling it a day.

Cyprus mulings musings

2008-04-23T15:17:00.006-03:00

I'm back! I'm currently wrestling with a travelling bug that latched on to me somewhere in the air between Athens and London and hasn't released it's grip yet. The main symptoms are disturbed sleep, an extended period of bleating and honking in the morning, and the sensation that my head is trapped in a pressure chamber. Plus all the usual cold symptoms. Once this has been conquered, I can throw myself into my thesis and look for summer jobs, apply for loans, get my Nighthawk out on the road, etc., etc., but I also aim to share some Thoughts About Cyprus.

One of Cyprus's Great Tourist Symbols is the humble, adorable donkey. Before agriculture on the island reached its current level of modernization, donkeys were integral to the Cyprus grape harvest. Most of the vineyards today are accessible by ATVs and other harvesting vehicles, and they have been made more accessible by gentler graded fields. In the past, however, vineyards were steeply and narrowly terraced (you can still see the terraces, but they are no longer used), and donkeys were the best beasts for the job. Donkeys aren't used much anymore, however, and there are now a few donkey sanctuaries on the island that offer donkey rides and petting zoos.

Tourism destinations, even one as thoroughly touristified as Cyprus, can always defy expectations. I was privileged, for instance, to see a rather urbane donkey eating hay behind a gas station in a suburb of Paphos (he looked content, so I assume he was well-treated, but I haven't figured out if he was a pet, or meant to make British Villa-land seem more authentically "Cypriot"). This particular donkey was photographed in a grape-growing foothill area on our way to the Troodos [sic] mountains. Suitably "authentic," then, for a tourist's camera:

Isn't he sweet? I just love donkeys and assorted pack animals. Taking into account my burro post, I should think of starting a category specifically for donkeys and burros.

More to come later!

Why lawns are bad:

2008-04-07T09:54:00.004-03:00

You can't make eye contact with grass.

I generally have a great relationship with my indoor plants, but they do get a little huffy when they're being overwatered or don't get enough light. At times like those, I, too like to have a set of googly eyes hanging around...

"A good rule of thumb is, don't turn your back on a cactus."

"If enough of these ferns launched themselves down your throat, pfft. You'd choke."

"I always knew it was gonna be the ferns."

By the way, I don't think I've mentioned my plant set-up yet! I borrowed a light stand that belongs to a woman whose newspaper I used to deliver way back when. I remember seeing it just inside her potting room when I came to collect every week, loaded up with plants, the windows of the room full of condensation. If I can have even half the success that she had, I'll be happy.

The farthest along at the moment are the tomatoes and the nicotiana. I'm not sure if the tomatoes will make it to planting day, since they are looking a bit peaky and I don't having any experience growing them. It was a free package of seeds, so I won't mind too much if I lose them. The Sheperds scabiosa and maltese cross is up and are just putting out their true leaves. Some columbine sprouted yesterday, and I have even seen four meconopsis seedlings, although I lost two of those (par for the course, I expect). One clematis seed also came up so far. Some seeds were very old and I didn't expect much from them - the lupins, for instance, are pushing 12 years old, and might not come up, although I did get one plant from the seeds last year. Similarly, the allium might take up to 5 years to sprout, according to some internet sources! The eryngium seeds didn't look too well when I planted them, and I think I drowned them too, so I am not expecting much from them.

I do love starting plants from seed. It appeals to the plant-loving self and the thrifty self. And you feel an attachment to perennials you start from seed that is a bit more companionable than nursery-bought perennials. You feel like you're in it together, right from the start. There's more familiarity.

Before I anthropomorphize plants any further, I should go do some packing. I'm off with my mother to Cyprus for 7 days (plus 4 days travel time), and if they ever confirm our flight home (we may have to stay in London forever, how terrible ), I should be home on the 19th. They say that it is wildflower season in Cyprus, I'm so excited! I hope I will have lots of pictures to share.

Spring is coming...

2008-04-02T19:22:00.003-03:00

This snowshoe hare says so! He still looks a little undecided; what think you?

Y'know, they're so cute, until they eat your vegetable garden down to the ground! I won't worry - I've got a big, ugly, rusty ol' cage up around one bed to fend them off this year...

Long-term forecast: looking chilly

2008-03-20T21:32:00.004-03:00

With the news coming down from Environment Canada that we can expect a cold, wintry spring, I'm trying to muster the courage to embrace winter the way my nephew is in the picture above. Is it working? Not so much. But I will try to be stoic if we have another Easter like last year.

Sable Island Update

2008-03-11T13:24:00.002-03:00

I attended the Sable Island Update lecture last Tuesday, and took plenty of notes as is my wont (is it too many years in university? Or am I just the kind of person who loves taking notes?).

Rather than rely solely on notes, however, I decided to do a little sketch book entry as well. Then, rather than repeat my notes to you, I decided to share the sketch - something I'm a little embarrassed to do, but hey, if UBC and Guelph will have me, I think your eyes will survive reading the following:

Click to embiggen.

Oh, yes, that's right - for those of you who I haven't announced the good news to, I got into the Masters of Landscape Architecture programs at both schools! Anyone want to help me decide where to go?

< Historical Platitude > < /Historical Platitude >

2008-02-28T20:43:00.005-04:00

Itz treshure, i swearz

So the province has released a new heritage strategy, with the intoxicating slogan of "A Treasured Past - A Precious Future." If Ian McKay is still paying any attention to tourism in Nova Scotia, he's rolling his eyes heavenward and praying to Pete (Seeger, that is). Is the province aware just how historic their "new" slogan is? As McKay would point out, this kind of treasure and buried gold language was bandied about incessantly during our anti-modernist heyday. It's old - 80 years old, in fact. It's been done. And they're still selling the same old make-believe.

In the 1930s, the Liberal government told Nova Scotians tourism was our future, but we shouldn't count on the province to help us develop the industry (we were supposed to use some of that old liberal get-up-and-go). Today, it's the Tory government telling us there is no new money to invest in uncovering this rich history, but that "people need to explore the art of the possible." Local museums and heritage groups? You're on your own.

I will save you the cliches and platitudes. I cannot spare you the head-meets-desk thwack.

!THWACK!

I guess you can't expect any better when your premier represents the very essence of McKay's folk motif gone sour - a Thoroughly Modern Millie playing dress-up in "heritage" garb.

History on the birdbrain

2008-02-22T00:42:00.003-04:00

Today there was a boreal chickadee being very resourceful at our suet feeders. A new one to mark of in the bird book!

I also learned that Thomas McCulloch, first principal of Dalhousie College and Nova Scotian intellectual of the first half of the nineteenth century (his old house is a museum in Pictou) is mentioned a number of times by name in John James Audubon's Birds of America. McCulloch ("M'Culloch" in Audubon's book) was not merely a collector of dead stuffed birds (he apparently started Nova Scotia's first Audubon mounted bird collection), but he was also Audubon's Nova Scotia informant and "young friend"! Along with some juicy tidbits about the foraging habits of the Black Cap Titmouse (our black capped chickadees), McCulloch's ornithological observations also made their way into the sections on pine grosbeaks, the "little night owl" (which based on the coloured plate, I would guess is a barred owl), cedar waxwings, and the Least Peewee Flycatcher.

Did their common interests bring them into a friendship of letters, or did they meet on one of Audubon's expeditions to Atlantic Canada? That is a question I would love to answer.

In the lecture hall

2008-02-13T12:24:00.003-04:00

I went to a lecture Tuesday night on "ecological democracy," given by Randolph Hester from UC Berkley. Much of what he said really struck a chord with me, largely because, like Hester, I am drawn to the idea that individually and as a society, we need to realize that we can hold seemingly conflicting ideas in a creative tension that brings more good to more people (and environments). The concept of "ecological democracy," then, is about finding a middle ground between ecological interests and social justice interests. Contrary to what Hester calls "virtual capital," ecological democracy is place-specific, focusing on grass-roots sources of power (even peaceful civil disobedience) with local solutions. Any planning decision, any design work, is inherently a political act.

Hester talked about a concept that was necessary in order to develop an appropriate plan and design for a community, called "sacredness," or "sacred structures." In a town or community, these are the places that act as centers of community meaning and activity. It is important that designers and planners identify and respect (read: don't fiddle with) these places. I often think of this concept as shared memory. "This is where we go for pancakes." "This is where our town started." "This is how we know we are from here and not there." "This is where the town ends." I like this kind of thinking. I study this sort of thinking, and write about it, too.

I love lectures. Of course, lectures are great chances to learn and expand horizons, to spend time with potentially like-minded people, to look at attractive folk in the audience. But I think I could sacrifice my comfort (thought I would probably just sit on my coat) to attend a lecture in a hall like this:

The lecture hall in the administration building at Acadia University in Wolfville. Doesn't it just ooze "hallowed halls of learning" and Anne of the Island to you???? Can't you picture Anne convocating here, Royal Gardner's violets shunned on the table back at Patty's Place, and Gilbert's lilies-of-the-valley in her hands instead?

Yes, this is one of my weaknesses. Around this time of year, when every snow is followed by a blustery night of rain and sleet, when my mind is preoccupied with temperance campaigns or Ataturk or road construction, it invariably also turns to L.M. Montgomery novels as well - The Blue Castle or Emily Climbs or Anne of Windy Poplars. I can't even look at a birch tree without thinking of the (spoiler!) house fire in Mistress Pat! I swear, though, it's the time of year. LMM, get out of my head!. I need that brain for thesis writing. Come back in June and we'll read some poetry together.

Visitors

2008-02-09T18:25:00.000-04:00

Of the two-and-half foot tall variety...

New Lost Names (pondering)

2008-02-07T23:48:00.001-04:00

I know this will be more accurate, with better information and better guesses, on the Lost message boards tomorrow, but tonight's episode? With the new sort-of Others? Awesome. And it gave me some more names to add to my first post speculating on the appearance of philosophers names on Lost.

UPDATE: Those Losties are fast - the Lostipedia has bios up for the new characters already. The episode synopsis (with links to the character bios) is here.

(oh, avast spoilers)

First of all, his name was given last week: Michael Abaddon - the guy who has arranged this mission to the island. Abaddon is a place of destruction (it shows up in Proverbs 15:11, for one). Wikipedia suggests "Abaddon" can be used as a name - eg., for Satan or the (an) antichrist. It's possible the Lost writers are using it in this pretty darn literal sense, but I will stick to the word as a noun for now.

Then, "Myles Straum," the ghost-talker - kind of obvious, maybe, maelstrom - not a philosopher, but dude is creepy and seems violent/destructive. It's likely very fitting.

"Charlotte Staples Lewis," the anthropologist (who, curiously enough, is interested in polar bear skeletons? Don't they mean archaeologist?) - also obvious, Clive Staples Lewis. I wish I could remember Ben's little biographical sketch of her.

Frank Lapidis (the pilot) - not so sure. Lapidis means stone, right? Literally translated, is it supposed to be an ironic name for a pilot? I don't want to speculate on his first name, because that seems like taking it a bit too far, but I do have a somewhat lame, Golden Compass-like explanation in mind.

Daniel Faraday - the softy physicist - well there was a Michael Faraday who was a physicist, and something to do with electro-magnetic fields and cages, could that mean something (especially considering the island's peculiar electro-magnetic, earth-regulating qualities)?

And then there is also "Minkowski," back on the ship, who was too busy to take a call today. Does that have anything to do with this Minkowski, and something to do with the theory of relativity? Apparently Minkowski was notable for working time into the picture - I like to think this has something to do with a Dharma polar bear skeleton showing up in a Tunisian desert. And time travel. The Entertainment Weekly Lost columnist was speculating today about time travel.

I don't know that any of these names actually have anything to do with the plot of Lost, but I like compiling these little tidbits. At the very least, they will probably show up in an edition of "Scene It!" some day, so I can count it all for the team.

I'll book no dissent - procrastinate with me! (Quizzes)

2008-02-04T23:03:00.000-04:00

There is a post about women sailors sloshing through my head right now, but the thesis is my highest priority, so it may take a while for it to filter out. I do have time, however, for taking 6-question quizzes and sharing the results with you (lucky, lucky blog readers). What book am I?

You're Watership Down!

by Richard Adams

Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you're actually incredibly deep and complex. You show people the need to rethink their assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they build their houses. You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You'd be recognized as such if you weren't always talking about talking rabbits.

Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

A little uncanny that they managed to pull one of my favourite books out of my head based on six questions. The results for my mother, however, weren't quite so canny, so I remain a bit skeptical. Let me know if you get any interesting (accurate or inaccurate) results.

Ferry crossing, thesis prep

2008-01-26T21:22:00.000-04:00

I'm in thesis mode these days - sometimes struggling to stay in it - which could mean more or less posting than I have been doing in the last few months. It seems when I spend a lot of time thinking about my thesis, I spend a lot of time thinking about other things as well - such as things to blog about!

I have tried to make more of a habit of working through the day, so I can bring up my productivity and not get in the habit of keeping grad student hours. I have a study carrel in the library, about the size of two phone booths, with posters of dolphins, and 3 calendars from the 1993 Black History Month covering the glass wall. The carrel certainly has created some impetus for me to hurry along - it's like a cell! And I don't have internet access in it, which is both a curse and a blessing.

Given the rather bleak work setting, I have even more reason to start each morning off right. This means I 'treat' myself to a ferry ride. There's nothing like a trip across the harbour in the morning light, with a good mug of coffee and a good book. And what other time of day can the oil refinery actually look kind of pretty?

Since it's the middle of winter (-16 celsius the morning these shots were taken), the waterfront is deserted, the tour boats gone to winter berths or protected as best as possible. But isn't it lovely? And don't find yourself actually feeling sympathy for these poor, cold seagulls?

Just to see

2008-01-09T11:34:00.000-04:00

It may be 5 degrees celsius outside today, but it was -13 c. when I and a friend stumbled into Brule a few days ago. We were out for a drive - just to see - and the North Shore was lovely in its snow cover. The frigid wind? Not so lovely. Thank goodness for warm cars!

Brule Point

Balmoral Grist Mill

Closer to home, we have had a flock of about 18 Common Redpolls visit us a few times since the start of January. I love all birds, and I love finches, and I love these too. Our bird guide calls them "uncommon, irregular" - which I assume refers to their population and bird-feeder loyalty. If they don't come back, I'm glad I was able to get a few pictures of them on Sunday.

Common Redpolls

Newfoundland, Part 3

2007-12-26T14:26:00.000-04:00

*Note: I started this post on November 19th. I've left the text as it was then, decided to be brief with the rest, with the aim of actually finishing and publishing this post, finally.*

I have been a little lazy with uploading and editing pictures from my camera, so I am here to finish off my October Newfoundland trip instead. I know you have all been waiting desperately for this post. I have to warn you, though, it's going to be quite the epic; a riveting story that is full of suspense, mind-blowing special effects, and contains the heights and depths of human emotion. And because every good epic contains a preview or foreshadowing of some sort, I will share with you the following words: climb, animal tracks, ptarmigan, moose.

Oh yes.

Monday morning was bright and still and a sort of innate atmospheric energy. Well, I that's how I would describe it in my fancier moments, but in simpler terms, I might call it a sort of energizing potential. Mom and I went to the visitor centre and paid a park admission fee, and settled on the Look Out Hike for our first walk. It was strenuous to say the least - not for difficulty level, but because the walk was a good kilometer or two straight up a mountain.

The first picture is of a caterpillar along the trail - Mom was a bit irritated I kept stopping to take pictures, but I know for a fact she secretly appreciated the chance to catch her breath.

A dead tree, taken from the top of the trail. There were actually still some blueberries up there - they were delicious.

The view from the top of the trail, and the wind in the grass (sedge? I have no idea).

The trail loops around the top of the mountain, and much of that descending loop is boardwalk. About three minutes after this picture, while passing through a small copse of spruce trees, I asked Mom if she would like me to take the lead. "Why?" Because those are fresh moose tracks we're following. "Oh." Two minutes after that, we saw our first close-up moose, unprotected by a metal frame and four tires powered by gasoline. It was awesome. He ran away.

Ptarmigan are supposedly timid, but this guy (girl?) was so cute! I think the beeping sound Mom's camera makes when it focuses intrigued him - he kept coming closer, and we kept taking pictures, so he kept coming closer. He was only eight feet away when he finally took off! I want one.

This is on the trail to Western Brook Pond. The sun was low in the sky, but we wanted to get as far as we could before we had to turn back. Unfortunately so late in the season, the boat tour was only operating once a week.

More fresh moose tracks.

Western Brook Pond Trail - Western Brook Pond is where those amazing pictures of fjords are taken in all those beautiful Newfoundland and Labrador tourism commercials. It's actually landlocked!

Sunset from Berry Hill - we went up there hoping to see some moose, but we only spotted one shy young bull moose, peeking around bushes as hikers came out of the woods.

We spent an evening watching a Gene Simmons reality show marathon on TV in our cottage, and left early the next morning to drive to Port aux Basques. We had another close moose encounter - an indecisive cow moose waiting to cross the road (we stopped for her, it's the Bluenose in us - you know how Nova Scotians stop for pedestrians) - but made it to the ferry terminal in good time. This is a picture of Port aux Basques lighthouse as we leave port.

The Muppet Ferry, jaws open wide.

Taking the ferry during the daylight hours is completely different. Instead of dealing with snoring hunters, we faced down cheerful bus tours, and had those kind of shallow and yet deeply personal and revealing conversations that often spring up among acquaintances of three hours. I think it's one of the best parts of traveling.

We made it to North Sydney, and stood outside as the ferry made port. The wind was formidable, it blew so strongly it took your breath away. We took the scenic way for as long as the light lasted, and got home at 11:30 p.m. in good spirits, but very
tired. We definitely want to go back.

*P.S: Okay, I take it back. I was exactly as wordy as I intended not to be. But it's written, ain't it?

Newfoundland, Part 2

2007-11-11T20:44:00.000-04:00

After the looooong wedding day (I ended up going downtown with two of my cousins and some of the wedding party after the reception ended, and got to bed at about 5:30 a.m.), Mom and I woke up at 8:30 a.m. to start our drive back across Newfoundland. Remembering how grey and blustery St. John's looked from Signal Hill the day before (see the Newfoundland post below), the change this morning was sure to put a smile on our faces, even though the air had turned nippy.

It was such a beautiful day, in fact, that I even got a photo of my mother sans photograph smirk.

I slept less than you would expect (and even the sleep was more of a half-awake, eyes-open, zombie state of mind - you should see the picture I took of myself. Except, you shouldn't). Our drive back across a road we had travelled only 48 hours before could have been boring, but the blue skies made everything seem fresh and vivid. We stopped to photograph this broad, shallow river full of boulders. Someone familiar with the area later told my mother that the river is like this for its entire length.

A lake (or pond, as it is likely to be called in Newfoundland), bog, spruce and fir, and hills, a pretty typical Newfoundland landscape, with a surprisingly intense colour palette.

The drive through Gros Morne was longer than I expected, with some amazing scenery and a brilliant valley rainbow (no pictures, alas!). We got in to Rocky Harbour as the sun started to set. After we dropped off our bags in our vacation cottage and stopped to turn the heat on, Mom and I walked briskly down to the waterfront to get some pictures of the sunset. I didn't get a really good picture (even this one is a bit blurry), but I did commit it to memory. It was a wonderful sunset. The air was just pulsing with the mauve and pink light, the wind was icy and bracing, and the lonely quiet of a vacation town abandoned by tourists was incredibly peaceful.

The next day dawned clear and fresh, and Mom and I hit the road to explore the park by car and foot.

Newfoundland, at last

2007-11-04T18:06:00.000-04:00

At last is right! Mom and I arrived home from Newfoundland a month and a day ago today, and I am finally here to post about our adventures. Hopefully you don't mind seeing more photographs and less writing?

We left Halifax on a Thursday afternoon and made good time to Sydney. There were plenty of bugs on the window to really spice up the photo opportunities, but I decided to post this image of the highway anyways. It's about 20 minutes outside Antigonish, and one of my favourite parts of the highway.

I have already told you about the snoring, camouflage-bedecked passengers on the ferry. We arrived in Port aux Basques at about 6:30 a.m., and started the looooong drive across the province. It was a dark blustery morning, and we hit pockets of rain the whole way across the province. This was the view of the Table Mountains as we headed through them:

Quite atmospheric. The thing about being part of the ferry traffic is that you are in company with many of these cars and trucks and tractor trailers for the rest of the way across the island. You may stop at the Grand Falls-Windsor Tim Hortons, and the other van may stop in Gander, but maybe you will see them again somewhere out of Clarenville. It's a lot of pass, be passed, pass again, look, dead moose! Pass, pass, get passed... you get the idea.

The morning of the wedding I met my friend Caroline for brunch (finishing up her MA in Nfld, but I met her at Dal), and walked up to Signal Hill. I liked the look of this stone building, because it reminded me of a Scottish croft:

And this was the view of St. John's from Gibbet Hill:

I like to commend myself for taking some landscape shots, because, naturally, I spent most of my time on Signal Hill looking at the details. A curious flower, a rock and grass-like plant, and of course, a lime sorbet-coloured, leopard-spotted lichen:

I'm skipping over the details of the wedding we were actually in Newfoundland attend, not because it isn't relevant, not because the bride wasn't photogenic (she looked lovely), or that the setting wasn't nice (the reception was held at the Fluvarium, I never knew brook trout could be so cute), but because I didn't take many good pictures (Especially none of me, although I really liked my dress).

On Sunday, we started the drive back across the province! I will finish that up later, but don't worry, it shouldn't take another month to write.

Stalling

2007-10-18T11:58:00.000-03:00

So I really do intend to do a post for my Newfoundland trip, but the prospect of selecting and editing so many photos has me procrastinating. Which means I am a champion procrastinator - procrastinating my procrastination activities? Smooth.

In any case, I did choose a less-involved, much shorter task yesterday. As far as procrastination goes, it was a good one, too, because it was something that had to be done. What was it? Well, I picked the seeds off a dried cilantro plant that had gone to seed - coriander seeds for my aloo gobi in the winter ahead.

And look! I also provided a wider angle for context. Macros are all very nice, but I have been thinking lately that it's hard to tell a story with them.

Dried coriander seeds

Mason jar and coriander seeds. Oooo, snazzy.

In Progress

2007-10-10T11:09:00.000-03:00

I plan on writing a Newfoundland post for those of you who I haven't gushed to in detail, but I want to get further along on the first chapter of my thesis (or save it for a Really Important Procrastination Session), so it will be a few more days yet.

In the meantime, a picture. This is from the Table Mountains (or just past them?), a couple minutes outside Port aux Basques. What a way to start the long drive across the province! I like how the clouds and mist are whipped by the wind into wave shapes.

Nfld. update

2007-09-28T22:11:00.000-03:00

I generally only post when I have pictures to share, but the camera is out in the car, and it is windy, dark and wet tonight here in St. John's. My first impressions of Newfoundland? I love it.

My lasting impression of all those hunters with freezers in the backs of their pick-ups and camouflage gear? Snore. No, really. Snore. Don't expect to get any sleep on the NS-Nfld. ferry during hunting season.