O Christmas Tree

The Christmas Tree is all a glitter this year. Hundreds of small white lights (the warm shade, not those bloody LEDs that blind the eyes), ornaments of red and gold sparkling as is the tinsel, gold of course, twinkling from the furnaces warm breeze.
The Tree brings memories of dad taking me and sis to a neighbour whose side yard was a forest. Row on row of trees propped along his fence waiting to be taken home. It was our decision dad reminded, so sis and I would walk and talk about each one. After the decision was made we dragged the Tree home leaving it in a pail of water til exactly one week before the big day. After a few inches were sawed off, in the Tree came, solidly pinned into the tree holder and the fun would begin.
The Tree has taken on many guises over the years, mostly depending on the trimmers artistic abilities. The few years of au naturale, where the Tree was swagged with ropes of hand threaded popcorn and cranberries, red and green paper chains, beribboned cookies and salt dough figures. It was a day long celebration, stringing freshly popped corn and the parents brewing their own versions of Creme De Menthe and Baileys in the kitchen. Of course the day flew by with both camps sampling each others creations.
In later years the real Tree was replaced with "o the horror" an artificial one. I'm on my third one and the first two are sitting in the basement awaiting new homes. Though me thinks the one from the 70's would fetch a pretty penny on EBay.
These years I love glitter! The more sparkle the better in me eyes. I keep true to the organics with glass ornaments of cones, nuts in shiney reds and golds. Birds of feathers and porcelain mixed with crystal hearts and angels. Not to mention the mini silver disco balls which bring that extra ping ping ping. Did I mention I love sparkle? Sitting in the branches are faeiries collected. They all remind me of events and people in me life. Of course the traditional glass balls of tartan, snowflakes, flowers and a few cobwebbed ones are hanging deep inside reflecting the lights even more. And stars, O the stars which shine brightly, created from metal, papiere mache, beads, enamel, glass, I love them all.
Topping off the Tree is a valued possession. My families Angel thriving in its 57th year. A golden haired angel sitting on a cloud of soft white batting. The yellowed scotch tape belies her age but she sits in the place of honour upon high beaming down as she always has all these many years.

Winter has Arrived

Ugghhh, Winter has arrived at The Pond. Two days of snow and ice and wind has covered the landscape in a blanc cloak. The blandness leaves one depressed. Where is the colour, the texture, the scent of a living land? Tis asleep for six months, six months of stagnation, boredom, and if I were a bear hibernation. Hhmmm, me thinks those urises have a good thing going. Hole up in a warm den under a fur carpet and ponder til Spring.
O I do enjoy the four seasons, I need them but this is the one change I do not look forward too. Tis just the curtailing of outdoor ponderings I miss. Not too mention the freedom of clothing. Now I don the Sorels, the parka, the mitts, the scarf, the Stanfields, the toque, and the most dreaded of all...socks ! No wonder our mums groaned when we wanted to play outside in the winter.

Theatre Days

Watching the opening of Shrek 3 reminded me of my theatre days. O what fun was had. Mind you this was very amateur theatre. I giggle remembering the time of tugging a drunken elf from the bushes just before his debut. "I had dinner at me aunties and she served this lovely honeywine" was his excuse. Uh hunh, just don't forget your lines and git yer arse out dere. Or the time during A Midsummers Night Dream when moi, the costume mistress, was o so working under the wire that me home was filled with faeries all needing fitting the night before the opening. Sequins and paint filled this home for weeks after. I wore a childs 6-gun holster filled with sparkle spray canisters at the ready during those shows. Then the time of a prima donna actor with a wee cut. Having rather hairier then natural legs I dressed his wound and applied surgical tape. Insert evil grin. There was a yelp when he removed the bandage. Dressing Gods during one show was particular fun. "Wanna pin me chest" was often heard at which I blushed, smacked the lad on the arm and said "hold still or I'll pin more then your chest". Of course doors failing to open, curtains caught in highwires, and the "techie" issues all bring to mind the fun afterwards. There was alot of work and trials and tribulations at the time but pondering back I laugh.

Sounds of Autumn

Such a blustery day here. A winters warning blowing the summer sails to and fro, tossing landed leaves onto the ground. The crunching of dried leaves alert me ears. Rockii has returned for one last feast at The Pond. Twinkles are turned on and I spy his black eyes peering back at me. Scoot you! I shout but him being him gives he an "eh" look and disappears into the darkness. Only the soft russle betrays his footsteps. Chickadees swoop in flocks, searching for seeds, with their "chick a dee dee dees" song floating about. Followed by the "ping" of Northern Juncos not yet wearing their winter coat. Cardinals soon follow with sharp notes staking their winter feeding ground. Such brillance they wear and well blended into Autumns cloak of many hues. Those naughty squirrels, plump from a good nut harvest, scurry about hiding their harvest and rearranging the bulbs, with a hearty scattering of leaves. Light footsteps on the street kicking leaves reminds me of the days of leaf forts. O such sweet memories. We weren't content with any ole fort, o noooo, me being the quasi architect had to build floor plans! Leaves were raked into lines not piles, "this is the living room, over here are the bedrooms". O what fun we had. To this day I still kick leaves, enjoying the sounds of Autumn.

Heaven Wept

Heaven wept today. A day of storms and Autumn colours shrouded in mist. I knew something was amiss. My friend lost her battle this Thanksgiving. A day of thanks. This I ponder deeply, silently mourning. A woman who lived life to its fullest is now a memory. These memories I shall cherish and give thanks for having her in mine. Rest softly Liz, I shall miss you.

Sunday Morn

Twas a lovely wakening this morn. Up early to enjoy the dawn. The yawning sun shone on bubbles in The Pond, causing the froggies to squint and hide under the plants for they weren't quite awake. Her rays enveloped the garden with her glimmer. Hostas alive with her low light, casted a knowing glow.

Sounds from the Fair wafted down the street, the winners of the Junior Holstien class...young folks dressed in white along with their calves while their parents soft mmmwaaaaaaas followed in the breeze, thee Best Apple Pie announced for the town to hear and soon to follow with orders for the freezer, the shwoooooosh of the Saucer joined with laughter from younguns.

Music wove its way thru the garden, Celtic this morn made one kick up her heels and dance along while steaming tea awaited the sipper. Ahhh, twas a lovely morn.

The Pond

The Pond is five years old. Wowzers, I had no idea when I began shovelling it would take on such a life. It was April and had finished raking, looking about the garden and thinking this has become boring. I ran for a shovel and paced the property thinking "what to do, where to dig". Aha! and I started. It took two months from start to finish. Negotiating shrubs, rocks, snow!, thoughts. Twas the wee thingies, what will I border it with?, trying o so hard to smooth the liner in an uneven hole, warmer temps, electrical or not?, where to place the steps?, the average ponderings when building a pond.

Me thinks I spent more time fussing with the border then anything else. It joins the patio, in fact one can step right into it or sit and refresh your toes in the water. I bought smaller slabs to match the patio and worked placing them around the edge. Standing back I noticed they were a tad brighter then the ole patio and it just wouldn't do. Sooooooo after a thorough soaking of the new stones I rubbed soil into the stones and left them for a week before hosing. Worked like a charm!

Then came the decision to wire it or not. I chose not. I prefer the sounds of nature, be they silent or the trills of spring peepers. There is so much noise in our made world that I need to relax while pondering. There is no fountain, no continuous flow just The Pond. Resident froggies and dragonflies keep the skidders at bay. Tis lit with twinkle lights interwoven thru the hedge and the odd firefly blincking on and off in the still of a warm summers eve.

Being in the shade those delightful water lilies won't bloom. However the floaters...Water Lettuce, Lotus and Fairy Fern take on life providing a resting place for tired froggies and even the odd Sparrow searching for a drink. They float about steered by the breeze intermixed with bubbles of silver and gold.

O the visitors The Pond has welcomed! From Fang the bullfrog who came after me twice though his rampages ceased when I left the red T-shirt inside and when he met with a high kick; and Lawrence of LongToes who spent the day in the ivy pot only venturing out when night fell; to Torrance the young snapping turtlette, journeying to the safety of The Pond from the river only to be taken to a more suitable environment and to this day I still think of her when I drive by the river; and there is Frogue, a rather proud froggie who spent the summer on a chair overseeing The Pond neverminding being pulled up to the table for dinner; the wee froggies Fox and Fhill, raised from tadpoles, who are thriving this year. Of course with the good is the bad as Rockii the Raccoon finds his way to The Pond. Scatterings of shells and bubbles in the garden are signs of his visits.

The Pond freezes early grabbing plants and creatures in its icy grip. The only joy is the ice providing a rink for winter birds arriving at the feeder. The mourning doves attempt landing, skid across with wings which fail to slow them, crashing into each other like bowling pins.

Then Spring arrives and The Pond thaws. Early April it is drained and begone plants scooped out. Sides are scrubbed as is the bottom sand. With luck, one or two froggies will be uncovered and met with "ooooo welcome to Spring but I see you're not ready so I'll cover you with your sandy blanket". A few weeks later, up they pop smiling. I search for plants, tidy up, await arrivals and so another year of enjoyable pondering begins at The Pond.

Light

Light in the waning days of summer takes on a life of its own. Rays shine thru the fence highlighting the ferns and hostas with a horizontal beam. Long gone are fireflies, blinking on, blinking off, beckoning you to follow their light thru the garden. Softness bounces off bubbles floating on The Pond, bouncing so much the froggies no longer shine, they give only a glint. Northern Lights dance with a greater force, perhaps they know of our need for light. Mmmm, light what would we do without Mother Natures beams...

I Have A Headache

I have a headache. I shouldn't have but I did, watch two back to back episodes of Passions. Why did I put meself thru it? Curiosity with the comings and goings in Harmony.

In a nutshell, the Crain, Bennett and Lopez-Fitzgeralds families are still as batty as the caves in Mexico. Allow me to recap....Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald has been freed from the execution chair by Dr. Eve who finally came to her senses knowing her son with Julian Crain, Vincent aka The Blackmailer was responsible for the deaths of her daughter Samones lover Rae, and a bartender who knew who Vincent was and his own Doctor, held the prison guards at bay with a tazer explaining who the real killer was. Vincent was also the lover of Eves son-in-law Chad who happens to be his uncle and is married to Whitney another daughter of Eve who had left Chad earlier to join a convent because she was convinced Chad was really her half brother. Sooo Vincent wanted to destroy Eve because Julians father, Alistair, had stolen Vincent as a baby and left him in foster homes which made him believe Eve and Julian gave him up. Chad still wants Whitney back but after she caught him and Vincent in "the act" which must have been a first for daytime TV she is having second thoughts. Smart girl.

Luis is now free to marry Fancy Crain, daughter of Julian, gee that will make her Fancy Crain-Lopez-Fitzgerald, but Sheridan Crain her aunt arranged with Vincent to bring Pretty (yes that's her name) Crain, Fancys sister back to Harmony to show Luis what Fancy did to her. Thinking Luis would leave Fancy and run back to her. Lets just say...chick fight, bottle of pool chemicals and Pretty ain't so pretty anymore.

Sheridan and Luis had a thang years ago but Luis was lost at sea and Sheridan believing him dead hooked up with Chris who worked for Alistair and was a plant in the Crain Empire. Chris grew tired of Sheridans rather bizarre love for Luis who had since moved on to Fancy. Now Sheridan made a deal with Vincent if she killed Theresa, Luis's sister, he would free Luis. Sooooo Sheridan clogged Theresa on the noggin, dragged her to the electric chair, yes in the same prison just down the hall from where Luis was receiving the morbid milkshake, strapped her into the chair and pulled the lever. Theresa was shaking like a saltshaker over a bag of FrenchFries when Gwen her arch rival happened upon her. Gwen checking to see if she was a goner, was zapped herself, thrown across the room and hit the lever stopping the flow of electricity to the tartarina Theresa. Sheridan had tried the week before spiking Theresa's tea with Rat Poison but she is one tough lil cookie.

Ethan, Luis's lawyer and resident d'oh man and whuse, is also Theresa's lover and father of Little Ethan their child though Ethan doesn't know it believing him to be Julians child with Theresa, runs off to find Theresa as her brother Luis sinks into the white light. He finds Gwen and Theresa, of course reviving them both, crediting Gwen for saving Theresa's life. Not on your life cause Theresa stole Ethan from his marriage to Gwen who is back in town to finalize their divorce and tell Ethan Theresa's "big secret" of him being Little Ethans father.

This big secret also being held by The Blackmailer who forced Theresa to marry Jarod and have his baby or he would reveal Little Ethans parentage. Vincent has a thang for Ethan and wants him for his own though Ethan isn't too thrilled with Vincents designer dudes. Even with the she/he mask and clothes, they just don't work as Rebecca found out wearing the same outfit to the execution thinking they came from 5th Avenue.

Meanwhile back at Tabitha Lenox's house who is the resident witch, Spike is under a spell and stripped down to a loincloth doing her cousins biddings under threat of sending him back to "the boys in the basement" who are major demon dudes. Also Keeping him away from killing Miguel, Luis and Theresa's brother who's in lust with Kaye, Police Chief Bennetts daughter and another witchie poo in training, because Fox Crain, Julians son, who is married to Kaye wants Miquel out of the picture permanently. And also preventing him from returing to Jessica, another of Police Chief Bennetts daughters who married Spike, is preggie and remains with him even though Spike buried her in a coffin in the park 6' under and was only found when Kay made a deal with the Demon Dwarf. Poor Jessica was soon arrested by daddy for the multiple murders of men Spike pimped her for during her druggie days only to soon find Spike confessing of the murders only to keep Jessica his money maker in line.

All the while the Father Lonigan moans about great evil coming to Harmony...........I still have a headache.

One of Those Nights

Tis one of those nights, we all have them when the body is tired yet the brain won't shut down. No music plays, no traffic, not even the train has passed thru in hours. The only sound is the gentle song from crickets singing their night serenade from the garden. Even the froggies sleep this night. No squeaks, which they make as they jump into The Pond, (I call it froggie language for "cannonballllll!"); no fidgeting with the composter lids from Rocki the resident racoon, nothing but the crickets. Even though tis early August I smell Autumn. The nights close in earlier, shrubs are losing their leaves, the sun's intensity is fading, and the earth is parched. I want to yell "hey not so fast Mother Nature" but I know better. We can only hope she decides to ease up and allow us a few more months of living with the windows and doors wide open.