One of the most profound changes for me was becoming a vegan rather than only vegetarian. Learning more about the dairy, chicken egg and bee product industries was the impetus. Isn’t it interesting that when one searches for information rather than accepting what you grew up with, one’s thinking often changes?
About two weeks before the official beginning of summer, it finally warmed up, the rain took a break, and Spring began. The wet cold made it seem that winter would never end – I was still wearing many layers well into May.
The Hazel Bird Nature Reserve is well worth a visit. It’s much more fun to explore than a playground! It comprises many different habitats including tallgrass prairie, sand barren, oak woodland and black oak savanna, which are all native to the Rice Lake Plains. On a perfect Spring day in early May we went for the first time.
I wonder if there’s a prize for being the most infrequent rambling blogger of all time?
I think as a blogger you’re supposed to post a new article a tad more often than twice a year or so. At least I don’t inundate readers with unwanted mail!
My biggest lesson from this is that one simply can’t do everything (at least I can’t).
It’s Spring, finally. It was actually over 20°C yesterday and the sunshine was glorious – a reminder that simple living really is as simple as enjoying a warm and sunny day! There are Loons on the lake and ‘our’ Pileated Woodpecker has been visiting. Both of these birds will disappear from this area when all the weekend visitors arrive, with their increased activity and noise. But for now it’s lovely to see and hear them.
I’d love to hibernate through the winter. Now that I’ve finally reached my ‘fully mature’ years, I understand why many Canadians want to escape to warmer climes in January. I love all the seasons, but one month of winter would satisfy my need for a quiet, cleansing and recuperation period. However, there are times…
Like today: There was a medium-sized snowstorm yesterday evening and overnight. Last night after dark, the torrent of big, fluffy flakes coming down so gracefully in the beam of the one street light I can see from a window looked ethereal.
Today, a beautiful shining sun appeared over the hill and looking out the windows I couldn’t resist the impulse to take pictures. I began in my own back yard.
I became an official senior citizen last November. (I really think we should come up with a better name, as most of us don’t feel very “senior” when we’re in our 60s and 70s. I kind of like “Revered Elder” – just kidding, sort of).
I fell in love with my heritage house on sight and decided that I wanted to live within its old walls before I’d even been inside. It was built in 1855 by Gore’s Landing’s first boat builder and coffin maker. (His photo is in the Peterborough Canoe Museum.) It’s a small and simple dwelling that retains most of its original character. Gore’s Landing is a wonderful hamlet with its very own open-twice-each-week library in the community hall.
The Alderville First Nation Black Oak Savanna is Canada’s easternmost pocket of surviving prairie. It’s a beautiful and wondrous place that I discovered shortly after moving here 15 years ago. It inspired me to learn more and begin my own tiny prairie pocket…I’m now looking forward to an autumn visit to capture in my memory (and maybe in photos) the beautiful waving prairie of the russet Indian Grass and the magnificent Bluestem, along with all the native Asters. Then in the Spring…
One of the things I most love is gardens – all kinds of gardens! I’ve made another vegetable garden where the old drive shed had to come down and plan to steal another bit of ground for a third vegetable garden for next year. I want to be as sustainable as possible with my own organic food. Now, on to spring in the garden!
The new venture was precipitated by many cartons needing to find a place to land in this small house. The cartons were filled with dozens and dozens of beautiful antique linens and laces, some other antique items, and some things more correctly called “vintage” these days. The 1920s & 30s for my mother were a tad different than now – the laundry woman visited once a week & a seamstress outfitted young ladies.