Thursday, December 24, 2015

Full moon of Christmas


The full moon of Christmas shines this night
illuminating the landscape in bright light,
she radiates accompanied by her celestial flock
that share in her bounty of brilliance by clasping
onto her rays to soften their edges.

I sit and watch while a jet flies under her,
its trail more prevalent under her watch
and think of the travellers wrapped in the metal shell
rushing home to be with family and friends
luggage overloaded with their own wrapped gifts.

In the background sacred Christmas carols sing
lulling me into a sense of melancholy, with visions of a chapel
and choir lite by candles under bower of boughs and berries,
my senses wake when church bells begins to ring
brightening my eyes and spirit while I sing the chorus

Oh, the rising of the sun,
The running of the deer.
The playing of the merry organ,
Sweet singing in the quire.”

A very Merry Christmas and Joyeux Noel


Saturday, December 19, 2015

First Snow of Winter - Haiku


first snow of winter
paints landscape in hues of white,
night illuminates 


Saturday, November 21, 2015

Tiny feet


I felt their tremors this morning,
thumping of tiny feet along the wires.
They were destroying their home of years,
and tiny feet became homeless.
With ears on alert they heard
the maple groan and moan, shuddering,
as the chainsaw began it's onslaught
murdering this living being of fifty years.

A perfectly healthy tree was slayed today
because the keepers complained of her bounty
and were too lazy to rake her leaves,
a small concession of shelter from the sun and heat
and abodes to creatures but do they think of that?
I stood in shocked silence as the human monkeys
swung from limb to limb, slicing each off oblivious
to her anguish while tiny feet stomped in horror.

I have many mature trees and spent days raking
this autumn but I consider it a small payback
for the happiness they bestow on me.
The shade to cool the house and provide shelter
for this redhead, and homes for creatures and songbirds,
privacy along the street, not to mention the muffling
of the occasional ya hoo, which that house has plenty of,
perhaps that's the reason, so their hound dog sorry
excuse of music could be heard even louder.

Still, the grinder lasted beyond sunset and now
the evening landscape is vacant of one less tree
one less living being, that will never be regained
while tiny feet scurry to find another home...

I was not a happy camper when I found the source of the noise this morning.  Chainsaws affect me, even though I understand the reason for winter wood and such I can't help but relate death to them.  Perhaps it's me soul...
  

Saturday, October 24, 2015

Sleep well - Haiga


Every day I search The Pond for signs of life knowing it has near ended.  Life fades into the darkness of the bottom as frogs seek their winter home.  This guy was the last hold out.  I trust he has now burrowed into the bottom sand, closed his eyes and is dreaming of the feast that will await him in spring.  

Friday, October 23, 2015

Jacks visit


You swept in slashing your brush with a vengeance
laying waste to lush, vibrant growth, in one swoop.

Acacia leaves lay crinkled and twisted, a rarity this time of year,
usually holding on til December when they would shimmer
as natures crystals competing with celestial star light,
but now Jack, they lay broken, shattered by your ruthlessness.

Hostas are twisted and drained of life as they collapsed
under your hard brush Jack. They hug the ground in shock
not having the time to wave in a late autumn breeze
in their goldness, shining amongst yews of green, they now mourn.

The ole sugar maple was assualted by you Jack, taken aback
by the onslaught of your harshness she dropped her leaves
in one day. I have never witnessed such viciousness in robbing
her of ancient golden splendour especially one so revered.

The walnut is now barren without fruit nor leaves. She had little time
to prepare against you Jack. New growth fell to the ground while
its fruit plummeted, smashing into a black stain, its skin
withered and black from your brush. Do your pots only contain death?

Ferns that once stood tall now are a crumpled mess Jack.
They huddle amongst each other, fronds amongst fronds.
Though they have the last laugh. The fern so named Autumn
grows green and is full of life. You were not as strong as you thought.

There is strength in nature Jack and while you were devastating
in your first strike, there are those that live on and will survive.


Sunday, October 18, 2015

Get it while ya can




  Mr. Leo Pard Frog wasn't happy with his seat number
and especially with the audience of Mr. S Nail 

Saturday, October 17, 2015

Catching up...


Tis been awhile since I pondered here. O I've pondered, mostly scribblings in my journal but nothing on line. This has been the first weekend in ages where I've made time for me. There have been too many weeks of being emotionally drained with others problems, serious problems, to attempt to post or visit fellow bloggers. I guess it's me fate having an empathic soul but there comes a time when enough is enough. I finally said to my boss since when have I been promoted to Social Worker.  That was a very black day after talking to a suicidal person for an hour.  It is totally out of me job description but these are people who became friends and I've worked with for 17 years. They trust and confide in me and I just can't brush them off because I do care for them, not just as fellow employees but as human beings who are experiencing tense times. All I can do is find them assistance and listen; and perhaps that's all one needs is someone to listen while they pour their heart out. Not to pass judgement, as we all have our issues, but to actually listen with compassion, share the tears, and a shoulder to lean on. Heavens knows we could all use one of those shoulders. As for me I trod on, just meself and nature.

After waking up to the dreaded white shite fluttering down I spent the day outside bundled up while tending to my haven, the garden. Pots were emptied, begonia's transplanted and brought inside to the basement, hoses drained and hung to dry, and furniture cleaned and stored, except for my throne. That remains outside til I have to shovel. No way am I giving it up this early. I need to be outside as long as possible before the deep freeze sweeps in causing us to become hermits for six months. One positive is that I finally hung the chimes I birthdayed to meself but hadn't hung in case they kept neighbours awake. This way they will tinkle from the winter winds to remind me of summer breezes and birdsong when the bedroom window is open during the chill of winter.

In the mean time I've watched hundreds of blackbirds fill the sky in the morning and evening. They must be roosting in the woods along the river. I watched them take flight one morning this week and it stretched two blocks wide. I've never seen this size of flock before, ever!

blackbirds fill the sky
seeking shelter for the night,
pepper on pasta

I'm hungry ;)


Saturday, September 12, 2015

Moving Day


End of the work week and I sat back enjoying the garden and its creatures. I sought solace after an emotional week, not to mention temperatures usually found in Hades. Or so I'm told.  I spotted Bart one of the resident black squirrels making its way along top of the fence. I sat upright and thought what is that in its mouth? It's furry and there's a long tail swooshing to and fro. Squirrels eat nuts and birdseed and veggies, not each other! My eyes followed it up into a recently built nest in one of the acacia's in the front garden. Hhhmmm.

Bart made its way back on top of the fence, then through the trees into the trees in the back. I dashed inside for my camera to sit in wait. This is just too bizarre I thought. I sat and sat with eyes scanning the fence. He tricked me! I saw movement among hostas. He had another! In his mouth. Only it wasn't black but grey. O no you didn't raid Petit la Rouges nest 'cause he won't be happy I said out loud.

Again I watched Bart and its captive climb into the nest. Soon after, the ole grey squirrel whom I call White Tip because of the white tips on its ears appeared in the next tree. I know, I know, not imaginative but it works for me. It joined Bart and they ummmm appeared friendly if you know what I mean. How does one differentiate between squirrel sexes without actually looking real close.

My eyes returned to the nest and there they were. One black and one grey squirrel babies. The baby black joined Bart or maybe I should call it Bartess? And they played in the tree. The young grey remained in the nest watching. Where White Tip went, I don't know. Maybe for take out ?


I guess it was time to move to a more scenic spot but I was certainly surprised to find the mix in one family. I wonder if there is such a thing as striped squirrels, kinda sorta like skunks or zebras. Now that would be too cool! The good thing about the new nest is that it isn't up too high so that's usually a good indicator of little white shite. And that's a real good thing!


P.S.  if you click on the photo it enlarges so you can see the two captives  ;)

Sunday, September 06, 2015

Where has the birdsong gone...


It has been weeks since I've heard the wonderous birdsong in the morning. Me thinks mums and dads have raised their chicks and so they venture onward without the encouragement of their parents. Personally I feel sad without their song but it is the circle of life.

Robins had two broods this year. Only one hatchling each made it to life. I was blessed to watch and hear their their upbringing. Early evenings found a parent perched on the roof chortling while the babe did its best to answer. At first I thought what is the noise but once I realized the chatter were them conversing to each other I had an ommm moment. The babe was doing its best to mimic its parent. This conversation lasted for weeks and I found myself rushing out to the garden after supper just to enjoy it.

I was delighted to receive a family of blue jays to the garden. Their visit lasted only a week but o what a week it was. The parents and five baby blues galavanted through the trees and wrecked havoc at The Pond. As I said to a friend the babies are jokesters, spinning on branches, attempting to walk on the pond plants and alighting on the table with me a mere 2' away. All the while nattering amongst themselves. They were full of life and adventure.

Sparrows have now sought other comforts. I truly miss this one sparrow who hopped about the garden and bathed itself every evening. It glided in as silently as the breeze and took refuge in the bird bath. A few minutes later, off it hopped only to take wing at the garden border. Just a brief pause to cleanse itself from the days gathering.


For a time I needed to not set the alarm clock for I was awakened at 4:30 a.m. on the dot! by birdsong. With windows wide open their “good morning” was all I needed. Now I hear the constant drone of crickets and tree frogs. This tells me summer is coming to an end and the white shite of cold and vacant life will soon appear. While I relish their song I still miss the wonderous voices of birdsong.  

Saturday, August 22, 2015

Frogs I know

frog spotting on a
lazy summer afternoon,
each a character ...



Friday, July 17, 2015

fireflies - haiku


while watching lightning
spark up the foreboding sky,
fireflies danced

pulsating beacons
of otherworldly creatures
ignites on my hand

flashback to childhood,
with mason jars in hand
we chased fireflies 


Friday, July 10, 2015

my eyes - haiku


my eyes are weary
while I watch garden shadows,
this midsummers night

this midsummers night
illuminates the garden,
fireflies take flight

fireflies take flight
flickering in candle light,
my eyes still weary 

Sunday, June 21, 2015

Escargot anyone


Last summer I found snails floating about The Pond. O how interesting I thought. I wasn't surprised because it rained every few days and the garden was under siege by slugs so why not snails in the water. Watching them float around was a bit of a treat.

The day came when I realized the duck rice had disappeared. Not a teeny tiny leaf was to be found. Hhmmm, a quick search and yep, they luvvvvvvvvvvv duck rice. So out they came. I couldn't bring meself to do the deed so a toss over the fence worked for me.

Yesterday I was sitting back relaxing and what to me wondering eyes did I see, not one but dozens of the bastards, errr, creatures, floating about. I grabbed a container, squirted dish soap in then filled with water. The battle had begun!

I scooped out dozens of all sizes sneering as they dropped to the bottom. I put too much time and money into finding pond plants that a mere snail wasn't going to beat me this year. Besides The Pond doesn't need “cleaners” because it's in shade and has always remained crystal clear. 


Today they still keep coming and coming and I am ever ready with container and scooper waiting to fish them out.   Escargot gone :)

Thursday, June 11, 2015

A Feast of Blooms


Even though winter past was cold, brutally cold, and o so long, I can't remember when the flowering shrubs, Honeysuckle and Ruby Red Weigela, have bloomed so profusely. Their leaves are spot free; stems are sprouting from their trunks and their colours are vivid! So vivid they are bringing in hummers every day who are having a grand ole feast.


Each one has to have been planted at least 15 years ago and ever since they've hummed and hawed about their location. Both are tucked in to a corner, only receiving a hour or two of filtered sun a day; and subjected to bitter winter winds that blow through the garden. I swear it's like living in a wind tunnel when the wind blows.

  
I'm not a “grow or you go” gardener. I'm more a come on, you can do it, lets make Cheryl happy having given you a beautiful garden home to call your own. She doesn't use pesticides, herbicides, chemicals of any kind, only good ole home made compost mixed in with the sweet scent of shite. So perk up plants, take root and you'll be content as she.

early summer blooms
invite hummingbirds to feast,
nectar drips from tongue

 

Friday, June 05, 2015

I stare


I stand
at the patio door
staring out
while rain renews
the garden
yet I feel left out
much like Grade 7
when the all stars chose
friends to play on “their” side
and I was always left last,
little did they know I had a killer arm
and striked out the faves every time.
I never could run then but I was fierce
when it came to protecting my base
besides payback was grand at the time
yet many years on I still yearn to be outside
and run once again as I did back then
over well worn paths with the sun in my face
and hair flowing surrounded by the chorus
of morning summer bird song cheering
me on with not a care in the world
but those days are over,
cranky knees yell when pushed
and those solitary paths
are overrun with idiots
who won't allow
a soul peace,
and I continue
to stare...


Wednesday, June 03, 2015

Barts' repose


Saturday past it was 95F in the shade.  Hot and humid.  I walked outside and spied Bart taking a breather on the fence.  Normally he scoots up a tree when he sees me but not this time.  The poor guy was done in.  He laid there staring back at me with a "whatevvvvvverrrr" look.  But is it any wonder, he's the silly one still wearing his winter coat.




Sharing this with Nature Notes at the awesome Rambling Woods.  

Tuesday, June 02, 2015

Strawberry Full Moon - Haiku


across the garden
the crimson sunset reflects
strawberry full moon 


Sunday, May 31, 2015

Pucker up baby for a Million Kisses


There are days when everything just falls into place. My hunt for Million Kisses Begonia's was one of them.

For years I had great fun seeking out fushia's to hang under the pergola. I would drive for miles trying to find unique ones not the bloody Swingtime that everyone seemed to grow. One year I had 13 different types in hanging pots and it was quite the colourful jungle.

Two years ago it was so hot and dry I would spend two hours every night watering my babies. Even though they were in full shade the heat and winds dried them completely. Then last year with perfect growing conditions for fushia's, wet and cool, they were hard to find.

I bought Amore from a local nursery to give it a try and was gifted with a stunning cascade of blood red blooms all summer long trailing 4' down. And so returned to the same nursery this year with fingers and toes crossed. I was on a mission when I entered the nursery and my plant radar spied the vibrant reds of Amore one aisle over. I beamed and put two baskets in the cart leaving one for another lucky soul.  


Moving along to the next aisle I kept my gaze on high scanning the hanging pots. I stopped and just stood there staring at the yellow beauties swaying from the fans breeze. This was destiny I thought and immediately ran for another cart. Three Honeymoons were placed on that one. Mine Mine Mine I said to an employee. 


One more aisle and what to my wandering eyes did appear but the Holy Grail of MK's, Elegance. I swear I experienced a hortgasm right there in the middle of the nursery. There wasn't one but two pots! Taking a closer look I thought really! Who does this. One pot had three pinks and one red, while the other had three reds and one pink. I couldn't just walk away now could I so both went in the cart.

  
The first thing I did after arriving home was switch the two odds creating one perfect pot of Elegance. There's me beauty and she was worth it.

This year I decided to forgo pots and planters of fussiness. Hanging pots of only Million Kisses Begonia's and planters with Dragon Wings Begonia's. OK there are a couple of Gartenmeister Fushia's in the planters. They've never failed and I'll grow them in memoriam of the past Fushia Forays.  Besides all of these will over winter nicely and next spring I will be able to rejuvenate them. 


Gardening is all about creating an Eden for oneself, family and friends. It's the joy of nurturing life. Taking note of what works or not, to remember next year. But most of all for me, it needs to be a place of rest and peacefulness. This is my pondering place, my Eden.
  

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Violets oh sweet Violets


One of the harbingers of spring is the violet.   Found in shades of purple and yellow they enliven the garden.  They make me stop and sigh at their delicate blossoms.

The purple one has found it's way from a heritage property in town where I was the gardener for a few years.  Imagine that!   It made its way here all by its self.  


The yellow violet surprised me last year for it found itself here without ahem encouragement or a basket of seedlings. I swear!

This year the wonderful yellow has spread its sunshine all through out the front lawn. That's another reason for not mowing and one I shall use on the neighbours when they complain about the meadow ;)



Sunday, May 10, 2015

Meet Potter


I was correct. Pooka and Petunia danced in the garden and Potter is the result.

I spotted mum and baby two weeks ago and delighted in the mother/child relationship during the evenings.

Saturday past I had the ultimate Disney moment. It was dusk and I was sitting out relaxing, inhaling spring when a movement caught me eye. There was Petunia hopping to a spot just across The Pond in full view of me. Right behind her was this wee furball. It nuzzled under her and began to nurse.

All of a sudden I could only see four tiny paws reaching for the sky. She took her right front paw, scooped it rightside and the widdle baby continued feeding. I tell ya, these eyes watered at this act of love. Petunia looked over at me and I whispered, “that's ok mum, I'll take my leave”. Rising slowly I went into the house and quietly closed the patio door leaving them in peace.

Yesterday I was about to step into one bed and saw a hollow in the groundcover. What to my wondering eyes did I see but Potter huddled safe and sound.


People have said ummm Cheryl you won't think it's so cute and cuddley when it eats all your plants. To them I say, having a baby bunnie around doesn't bother me at all. I can replace plants but could you deny these big bunnie eyes a safe home and free meal? I thought not ;)



Monday, April 20, 2015

This is Petunia


This is Petunia.  She lives here now, well, maybe, kinda sorta.


Friday past I watched the dance of the rascally and randy rabbits. Two males sparred for her attention, bouncing off the fence, the stone wall, the gate; and literally tore up the beds in their battle royale to win her hand, paw, while she sat quite comfortably in an euonymus happily trimming the plant for me.  Wasn't that sweet of her.  Her attitude towards the lads was “meh, me needs food first” and rarely glanced at the joust.

I haven't seen any of them since, but that doesn't mean they aren't around.  As I turned the bed on Saturday I found a comfy looking nest of bunny fur.  So either one of the lads got a bit rough or she decided this was a perfect place to raise wee baby bunnies.  And that in itself would be interesting.  I'm already having visions of the babies and the frogs playing Marco Polo in The Pond.  Time will tell ;)

Friday, April 03, 2015

Spring - Haiga



sun warms earth
providing the push
life begins 

I am thrilled that I found life in the garden today.  My heart couldn't be warmer and my smile larger. Life renewed once again.     :)

Thursday, April 02, 2015

Waking to the past


showers dissipate banks of snow
seeping into thawing earth
providing moisture to overwintered seeds
breaking hardened skins from year past

dawn awakens not with the sun
but with glorious bird song heralding
warmth and life, thought long dead
now released from winter past

my eyes watch a pileated woodpecker
sounding out the phone pole, while robins
feast on fermented apples hanging on
from the bountifulness of autumn past

shoots of bulbs waiting for warmer days
begin their ascent from earth, pale green tips
poke through wet earth heeding suns call
to wake and spread as in spring past

eyes open wide and nostrils flare
with scent of earth and birds on wing
in the garden, while trees bud stretch and yawn
and soon nature will live echoing summer past

Sunday, March 22, 2015

Red chair - Haiku



favourite red chair
cloaked in white awaits springs thaw
winter green dwindles


Friday, March 20, 2015

Reflection


There's a time when me mind is overwhelmed with events. The past two weeks was one of those times when I did contemplate but without time to scribble. Tonight I made time with a goblet of heavenly nectar accompanied with soulful R and B singing with warm, wrapping sound.

I finally finished a book that spoke to my soul in so many ways. It gave me an insight to my appreciation and deftness with haiku, my Irish heritage, astronomy and nature. I enjoy reading scholarly tomes. The book is A Brief History of The Druids by Peter Berresford Ellis. Dog eared pages, scusie Andrew :), stickie notes on others, await for further pondering by The Pond. One has to read about Mr. Ellis and his research to fully understand the book.

ancient scrolls
vacant of scripture,
memories

A band of gold lattice woven beholding gems gathered in my journey. Created by a magician of minerals who saw my vision and made it a reality. Stephen, I thank you. The emerald and jade reflects nature in me eyes; opals shine as the night stars; and amethyst the bright light of spring. A gift to myself.

natures gems
all shine brilliantly,
life entwined

This evening I gazed upwards and stood in awe at the bright lights in the sky. Venus shone with such brilliance in the western sky, floating alone in the twilight of the day. Looking eastward Jupiter was winking with his “hey look at me V” sign. I was surrounded with star shine. How could one not gaze in wonderment at such a heavenly display.

two planets
reflect light of life,
enrapture

Spring has finally arrived. I've watched Canada geese flying north as black specs in the morning sky; Chickadeedeedee's winter calls have changed to spring song; snow dissipates slowly leaving pillars of bird seed under the feeder that Pooka gnaws at in early morning; I no longer need to plug the car in ;)

ears tuned in
as spring songs arrive,
this soul sings


Friday, March 06, 2015

Full Worm Moon - Haiku


heat radiates warmth
from centre melting to life
winter frozen ice


The full Worm Moon is a harbinger of spring. Earth is warming beckoning worms to travel upwards into soil free of frost.  Mind you this winter it may be another month or more due to the covering of snow and ice.  But I will be the first out there in bare feet digging the tootsies in to feel worms tickling me toes and to breath a sigh of relief that life continues.


Saturday, February 21, 2015

Winter (again) - Haiku


Yet more haiku on a cold and snowy winters night ~sigh~
What can I say but I'm a child of the season.


shadows from street light
shows your presence furry one,
Pooka dines on seed

calming music sings
from Chill Lounge this winters night,
appropriately...

night sky is veiled
with a frigid white fabric,
folds without movement

Groundhog Day weekend
repetition of last twelve,
pinch me when over

drifts cover my tracks
along rivers vacant trail,
snowshoes know the path

feeder is barren
while birds seek shelter in wood,
squirrels aren't complaining

if I ever hear
winters wonderland" again,
snowballs at ten paces    ;)


Friday, February 20, 2015

Tonight I dream


Late February and the only outdoor light is from the corner street that has blinked off and on for years. I'm almost convinced it's a motion sensor but not quite as I know our “power boys” aren't that swift at replacing defective bulbs. I digress. The landscape is cold and not pleasant for friend nor foe and therefore I dream.


I dream of the aroma from freshly turned earth, inhaling the intoxicating fragrance of acacia, listening to the soft chortles from pondering frogs, seeking out fireflies flitting about in the foliage, wrapping myself in the fresh air blowing in from windows wide open, becoming lost in soft illuminating lights and lit candles, soaking in the sounds of birds singing vespers to their babes, becoming overwhelmed in the lushness of the garden while walking barefoot along the path and gazing in wonderment at shooting stars overhead in my Eden.

Spring can't be too far off...

Monday, February 16, 2015

I be-go-nia luv ya


While in the basement this morn digging out the snow rake my eyes wandered over to a table where colour permeated me eyes like laser beams. “Come closer, you are not dreaming, come closer” I heard. Sweet heavens I screamed! Yesssssssssssss, there is life!

I grabbed the pot, ran upstairs, giggling while doing the happy dance.


Autumn past I cut back a spectacular begonia and put it in the basement with the tinkin' it will either go to sleep or rot. The sweet thing went to sleep and is now waking. There are four tubers and I will separate them creating another pot. If only I had brought another pot in last year so I could separate and transplant but alas, they are in the shed which is buried under 2' of white shite.

I found this Begonia aptly named Million Kisses Armour last spring and it grew amazingly well on the veranda. It was not red nor orange but almost a coral colour, trailing 3' down and full of branches. The branches themselves were red and leaves green with a burgundy underside. My photo doesn't do it justice.

  
I shall baby it, tend to its every need and smother it with kisses, o indeedie I shall, so pucker up baby it's going to be an interesting spring.
 

Saturday, February 14, 2015

The weather according to Saint Valentine

Warnings

6:51 PM EST Saturday 14 February 2015Extreme Cold Warning in effect:
A prolonged period of very cold wind chills is expected. No feckin' kidding!

Bitterly cold arctic air will be ushered in by stiff northerly winds tonight and Sunday. As a result, wind chills will easily reach lets make it a little harder shall we, minus 40 to minus 35 tonight into Sunday and will likely persist into Monday morning. Even colder wind chills of minus 45 to minus 40 are possible in more exposed nae every area..

People outdoors Twits foolish enough to venture out should exercise extreme caution. Frostbite on exposed skin may occur in just a few minutes. The famished looking joggers with the “ooooo look at me participating in winter” attitude should be rundown by a snow plow. Please drive with care.
Wear appropriate clothing:
Always wear clothing appropriate for the weather. There isn't enough clothing to prevent you from freezing yer arse off unless you live in the Arctic.
Dress in layers with a wind resistant outer layer. You can remove layers if you get too warm (before you start sweating) Sweating? It's too cold to sweat so there is no need to remove layers, or add a layer if you get cold. Add a few more and you can't move because you wobble like a penguin. 
Wear warm socks, gloves everyone knows you need mitts. Fingers join to keep each other warm. No one in their right mind wears gloves in this weather, a hat and scarf in cold weather. Be sure to cover your nose to protect it. Your nose? Just your nose? My nose is so stuffed up I wouldn't feel it if it fell off. 
If you get wet, If you get wet? Even the thought of peeing oneself once the cold hits you makes you stay inside, besides bits shrink in the cold, change into dry clothing as soon as possible. You lose heat faster when you're wet. Well there's a thought, who knew when I stepped out of a hot shower I would feel chilled. 
Avoid alcohol. Fug that!  Drink as much as you can, then fall into bed and sleep the day through because nothing is moving, not man nor beast. The snow plows have given up so you aren't going anywhere. Deal with it.
Consuming alcohol before you go out in the cold may increase your risk of hypothermia because it increases blood flow to the extremities of the body. You may actually feel warm even though you are losing heat. This is where a warm blankie and thermal socks come in handy. It ain't purdy but who says Valentines Day has to be.

Happy Valentines Day to you and your loved ones. 
Need I say stay warm   :)

Friday, February 13, 2015

But I'm still cold


I barricade myself
from sharpened tendrils
of this killing cold
scratching towards
cracks in the foundation
weaving itself
up through the floor boards
grasping
at
bare ankles,
dangling from the chesterfield,
intent on piercing the flesh
only to follow arteries
free flowing
into pulsating veins
slashing its shards of ice
into every crevice
along its journey
to my soul this frigid night.

I awoke to -40C temp.
That's just nasty but goblet half full, the sky was clear and stars shone.
But I'm still cold.

Tuesday, February 03, 2015

full Snow Moon - Haiga



Tonights' full moon couldn't be more aptly named.  Snow yesterday, snow tonight, snow tomorrow.  I'm tired but not dead tired ;).  

Friday, January 23, 2015

January morns - Haiku


Tangerine ribbons
tickle sleeping sun to wake,
refreshing citrus

tiger eyes of dawn
open in violet haze,
sun salutations

crumpled paper clouds
float over the morning sky,
plane trails leave their script


The past few mornings the sky has been delicious and thought provoking until “they” enter asking for this and that. I remain focused on the view until the “hello! Cheryl !   Earth to Cheryl!" chant shatters my peace then work begins ~sigh~    At least I have that moment in time.  

Friday, January 16, 2015

braver than I


through cedar hedge the setting sun sprays
yellow beams that scatter upon snow
dry, cold and bitter this day
while birds peck and dig for substance
wearing only their skin and feathers
that causes me to ponder
how they withstand this temperature
while the flesh of this mere mortal
freezes leaving skin blue
not the blue of water or a summer sky
but a transparent blue with veins
pulsating in disagreement
of my foolishness being outside
filling the feeder to provide
nourishment for those
who can't provide for themselves
yet complaints there are none
from this soul as I hear
only the soft thank yous of
gratitude emitting from the hedge
sung by chilled creatures
braver
than
I

Saturday, January 10, 2015

Friday, January 09, 2015

only -22 you say, well isn't that balmy


Sunday graced us with hours of freezing rain. At least it was on 6” of snow that buffered it from the ground. Me thinks everyone listened to the same forecast of flash freeze and doors opened with neighbours rushing out to clear their drives. I went out twice and was thoroughly soaked each time but it had to be done as the ever loved snow plow operator had already passed. TWICE. My shoulders ached as if I had shovelled a ton of coal. I was not a happy camper seeing three, ahem, “neighbours” out with their snow blowers and not one yelling over the drone “Yo! Cheryl, I'll be right over”.   Women never forget. 

Nursing the soreness and drying clothes I was preparing me self for another go to shovel the bloody bank when what to me ears did I hear but me savour! Dear Dale, a kind man who had just put in a third 12 hour shift arriving with his blower. 10 minutes and it was cleared. I ran out with gift in hand shouting “I LOVE YOU” and he awww shucks apologized for not coming early. Geeez, I hadn't expected him at all knowing his schedule. The best long distance neighbour I've ever had.

The week became worser. -40C temperature on Wednesday made everything freeze solid. My house was banging all night, the house people. The Butternut tree was equally showing its disdain for the cold slamming its overhanging limb on the pergola. For years one limb has rested on two beams. It has become a measure of weather. I know when the winds are wicked because the limb rubs and squeak. Visitors are told it's just talking so talk back. Mind you there are always a few eyebrows raised when I say that.

Another sign of cold is the train whistle. I live not far from the freight line that bisects this town and like most citizens who have lived here for what seems eons never hear it. Until the temperature lowers to an unbearable level unfit for man or beast to be oot and aboot. When I actually notice it in my home I know it is cold, damn cold. That means it's so cold it's time to don, gasp, socks and slippers and throw an extra blankie on the bed AND the window remains closed.

I won't write about the layers of clothes.  Ok I shall.  Socks, boots, pants (in no way do I wear a dress in this weather), sweater, parka, scarf, mitts (gloves are not advised because fingers keep warmer touching each other), and perhaps a hat.  Mind you the hat leads to dreadful hat hair due to the static electricity and it is so unbecoming that I prefer a hooded parka.  One must endeavour to remain fashionable, in a way, doncha know.  And that's just for outside.  I won't mention what we need to wear working in a 100 year old building with no insulation, except the alpaca mitts make rather funny typo's in emails.    

Today we joked about the temperature and in true Canadian style stated you know you're Canadian when you remark “only -22 you say, well isn't that balmy”.

Sunday, January 04, 2015

To the Full Wolf Moon


The moon beckons to follow
over the marsh where water
has become ice, solid for fleeting
feet running through the rushes
holding once rampant waters still
for creatures to find their grasp
while they continue the hunt
of rabbits and fox that prowl
the night in the glow of the moon.

I weary of this chase, feet are raw
bleeding from the shards of ice
leaving prints in the snow to be
scented from my pursuer who will
soon be upon the limping formations.

There are outlines of trees ahead,
old maples and oak branches that
have become fuel for the pioneers fire
where they keep their hearth warm
and cook their food to provide heat
for their cabins in this bitter winter
and after this long and tiring chase
I will give my own fur only to feel
once more the heat and a hearty
welcome to join the clan once more.