Snow Upon Snow

A pine tree standeth lonely

In the North on an upland bare;

It standeth whitely shrouded

With snow, and sleepeth there.

It dreameth of a Palm tree

Which far in the East alone,

In the mournful silence standeth

On its ridge of burning stone.

Heinrich Heine, German poet (1797–1856)

I know of at least one Northerner, with snow on his shoulders and cap, who is dreaming of Egypt's stately palms. What would our Egyptian friends think of donning long johns, snow pants, parka, boots, gloves and cap and striking out of the warmth of the house with cheerful enthusiasm to face the elements?

Our first snowstorm of the season started blowing during dinner last evening and dropped so much white stuff that the Time Traveller had to shovel a path to his car. Since then snow continued to accumulate upon itself until morning. We awoke to a quiet, white world blanketed in a foot-thick layer of frozen precipitation.

It's a beautiful sight but it has to be dealt with so right after breakfast, Dad and I headed out to clear the driveways and sidewalks of our elderly neighbours; Dad with a snowblower and me with a shovel. Three hours later we returned home for a warming cup of coffee and some Christmas treats, after which I collapsed into a sound sleep, as deep and as silent as the snowbanks we had created. Welcome wintertime to Ontario!

Gifts of Love

Love is, above all, the gift of oneself.

Jean Anouilh, French playwright (1910-1987)

S-I-L puts so much love into her home, particularly at Christmas time. It is a gift of herself to her family that we treasure as we gather together to celebrate Christmas.

S-I-L mentioned that she needed some cotton bags to protect her purse collection and I figured I could make some muslin bags and dress them up with some creative applique, a few buttons and other bits of trim. It was a fun Christmas project and now she'll have the best dressed purses in the closet.

Mom and I began working on a labour of love for the grandson/nephew back in the summer. For the Star Wars fan we created a unique quilt (I think) that has been a really fun partnership. I've wanted to share our work on the blog as it progressed, but couldn't . . . otherwise it wouldn't have been a surprise!

The traditional 'Garden Path' pattern takes on a futuristic spaceship look with the fabric we found. We had quite a time piecing snippets of fabric together so that the 'windows' onto space presented a cohesive appearance and I think we did a pretty fine job of it. What's really cool is that the constellations and planets will glow in the dark of the recipient's 'man cave'.

We found some perfect fabric for the quilt's reverse side. As a snowstorm blusters outside, it's our hope that when wrapped up in it, the quilt and the love that went into making it will warm body and soul.

Christmas Time

Gifts of time and love are surely the basic ingredients of a truly merry Christmas.

Ruth Eleanor "Peg" Bracken, American cookbook author (1918–2007)

The exhausting busyness of the past few months, filled with baking, gift making and service, concluded today with loving familial fellowship around the dinner table. Everything that we wanted to get done, got done and all the hectic activity succumbed to peace and comfort -- and isn't that exactly what Christmas is all about?

May the Peace and Comfort of Christmas fill our hearts today and always.

♬ Oh Come, All Ye Faithful ♬

Oh, come let us adore Him!

Merry Christmas Everyone!

Angels Still Appear

Angels still appear to those

ready to receive blessings

in spite of the barren

impossibility of their lives.

Elizabeth still recognizes Jesus

and calls him Lord,

receiving him to her heart,

in spite of the distraction

of her own blessing.

Blessings still come

to those who believe

that nothing is impossible

in the hand of God.

Mary still gives birth,

not just every Advent,

Mary still gives birth

each day to this Child

who advents into hearts,

unexpectedly and forever.

Herods still live who

would kill this Child,

but Mary and Joseph

still flee into the desert,

and the night,

to protect the One

given into their keeping.

Doors still slam in the

inns of this world,

Herods still plot to kill,

deserts and darkness

still threaten our safety,

but God still lives.

In spite of war and terror,

Mary gives birth

to the Prince of Peace.

In spite of hunger,

Mary gives birth

to the Bread of Life.

In spite of lost sheep,

Mary gives birth

to the Good Shepherd.

In spite of hearts

pregnant with hatred,

Mary gives birth to LOVE.

It is not done!

It is not done!

It is not done!

The birthing is not over.

The blessings continue.

Angels wait in the wings!

"Angels Still Appear" by Ann Weems in From Advent's Alleuia to Easter's Morning Light (2010)

♬ Give Love on Christmas Day ♬

Probably the reason we all go so haywire at Christmas time with the endless unrestrained and often silly buying of gifts is that we don't quite know how to put our love into words.

Harlan Miller, British writer

With just three days before Christmas, it seemed that everyone was on the road or in the malls. Some folk looked perplexed, others frantic, and yet others took the time to smile at strangers. Two strangers had to laugh with each other as we tried to pass around the newly arrived inventory blocking the aisle. Yes, indeed, the calendar may say December 22 and the shelves may still be full of Christmas paraphernalia, but Valentine's Day is on the minds of marketers. Slipping a red, heart-shaped box of chocolates under the Christmas tree would certainly let a loved one know you care . . . although eyebrows might rise querying if the gift was bought ten months earlier. All this begs the question, why don't we Give Love on Christmas Day?

Give Love on Christmas Day

People making lists

Buying special gifts

It's a time to be kind

To one and all

It's that time of year

When good friends

Are dear

And you wish you

Could give more

Than just presents

From a store

Why don't you give love

On Christmas day

(On Christmas day)

Oh, even the man

Who has everything

Would be so happy

If you would bring

Him love

On Christmas day

(On Christmas day)

No greater gift

Is there than love

People you don't know

Smiling out hello

Everywhere there's an air

Of Christmas joy

It's that once a year

When the world's sincere

And you'd like

To find a way

To show the things

That words can't say

Why don't you give love

On Christmas day

(On Christmas day)

The man on the street

And the couple upstairs

All need to know

That there's one cares

Give love

On Christmas day

(Christmas day)

No greater gift

Is there than love

What the world

Needs is love

Yes, the world

Needs your love

Why don't you give love

On Christmas day

(On Christmas Day)

Oh, every little child

On Santa's knee

Has room for your love

Underneath his tree

Give love

On Christmas day

(Christmas day)

No greater gift

Is there than love

What the world

Needs is love

Yes, the world

Needs your love

Give love

On Christmas day

(Christmas day)

Laughing Chickens

Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe,
Help to make the season bright.

Mel Tormé and Bob Wells in "The Christmas Song" (1944)

Running across the muddy parking lot of my favourite poultry purveyor, carrying the Christmas turkey in my arms, I caught sight of a congress of roosters and hens running towards me through the field of tall grass. They scurried down into the ditch and up again and ran across the gravel, coming to a halt outside the purveyor's door. Their appearance surprised me because they have never been around during my other numerous forays here to purchase chicken. Then I realized: these roosters and hens have no fear at this time of year. It's their cousins, the geese and turkeys, that need to keep a low profile. The chickens are cackling with yuletide joy.

In the jolly spirit of the chickens, I leave you with Mr. Bean and his Christmas turkey:

A Christmas Rush

Christmas! The very word brings joy to our hearts. No matter how we may dread the rush, the long Christmas lists for gifts and cards to be bought and given, when Christmas Day comes there is still the same warm feeling we had as children, the same warmth that enfolds our hearts and our homes.

Joan Winmill Brown, British actress and author

In the rush of seasonal activity, I have neglected my chocolate box but many good things have overflowed with the cookie baking, shopping and making presents, chatting with good friends and re-connecting with lost ones, clapping along to musical theatre, feasting at a festive potluck, using my 'new' voice to read for the first time during a candlelight worship service, preparing for a job interview, helping out at the no-charge Christmas store and, finally this evening, decorating the Christmas tree. What a bounty of blessings!

Through all my years, setting up the Christmas creche always causes me to pause and give thanks. From the time I was a child, unwrapping each of the figures and arranging them around the baby has been a stirring task as my heart hears:

 The angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favours!’

Sweet Giving

It's not how much we give but how much love we put into giving.

Blessed Teresa of Calcutta (Mother Teresa), founder of the Missionaries of Charity (1910-1997)

When the neighbour lady phoned asking me to drop round her house, I figured there was a problem with her computer as it can, on occasion, leave her shaking her 88-year-old head (it's a Windows machine, what can I say?). But there was no computer problem. She greeted me at the door with a lovely gift of cheeses, English pickle, orange chocolate, and a plate of homemade mince pies and carrot cake to carry back to the family. Her thoughtful present warmed the ol' homestead. We beamed at her kindness and it looked to me as if even the mince pies were smiling . . . before Dad gobbled one up. ;-)

♬ It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year! ♬

Our hearts grow tender with childhood memories and love of kindred, and we are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmas-time.

Laura Ingalls Wilder, American author (1867-1957)

The Time Traveller and I meandered along a park path lined with festive lights. I was like a child, gleefully pointing, "Oh, look there!", as a snowman blew chilly air to create a snowflake; and "Oh, look at that!", as trainee reindeer jumped off a ski ramp and drifted down to the ground with parachutes. There's magic in the air at the most wonderful time of the year when middle-aged old timers feel like kids again and gladly clap their hands in delight.

Be of good cheer at this most wonderful time of the year!

For a trip down memory lane to a time before digital effects, watch Andy Williams sing "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year". The song was composed in 1963 by Edward Pola and George Wyle, who worked with Andy on his TV show. They don't make entertainment like this anymore.

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

It's the most wonderful time of the year
With the kids jingle belling
And everyone telling you "Be of good cheer"
It's the most wonderful time of the year
It's the hap-happiest season of all
With those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings
When friends come to call
It's the hap- happiest season of all

There'll be parties for hosting
Marshmallows for toasting
And caroling out in the snow
There'll be scary ghost stories
And tales of the glories of
Christmases long, long ago

It's the most wonderful time of the year
There'll be much mistltoeing
And hearts will be glowing
When love ones are near
It's the most wonderful time of the year

There'll be parties for hosting
Marshmallows for toasting
And caroling out in the snow
There'll be scary ghost stories
And tales of the glories of
Christmases long, long ago

It's the most wonderful time of the year
There'll be much mistltoeing
And hearts will be glowing
When love ones are near
It's the most wonderful time
It's the most wonderful time
It's the most wonderful time
It's the most wonderful time of the year

Wreathed In Smiles

Perhaps the best Yuletide decoration is being wreathed in smiles.

Author Unknown

Cat keeps us wreathed in smiles. Her favourite game involves hunting ankles and today she camouflaged herself in the greenery of an as-yet-unhung Christmas wreath to stalk her prey. With her daily antics, there is never a dull moment 'round the ol' homestead.

On route to buy Cat the chicken for her meals, the car turned itself into the parking lot of our local purveyor of fine Eccles cakes. Their garden, aglow with decorative cabbage, made for a cheery entrance. They, too, brought a smile to the day.

Christmas and Cat

God made the cat in order that man might have the pleasure of caressing the tiger.

Fernand Mery, French veterinarian (1897-1983)

Christmas decorations are slowly coming out of storage. With their baubles and bows and bells and boughs, Cat is on a prowl of wonderment. It's sooooo exciting!

Je me souviens

Truly happy memories always live on, shining. Over time, one by one, they come back to life.

Banana Yoshimoto, Japanese author

I came to a halt before one of the mall's shops. Mais oui! Je me souviens de Versailles. Excusez mon français but, oh, the memories come rushing back and what little French I know bubbles on my tongue. In another Christmastide, twelve years ago now, I strolled through Versailles' grand hall of gold, mirrors and crystal in my little grey beret. Later someone informed me that only tourists wear berets in Paris. Ah well. C'est la vie. I felt chic nonetheless. As I stood before the shop's window, I smiled at all the wonderful memories unexpectedly triggered.

It's Fruitcake Time!

Your friends are the fruitcake of your life – some are nutty, some are soaked in alcohol, some firm, some sweet, but all together, great to have in your life!

Unknown

I thought everyone loved Christmas fruitcake . . . until I searched for a quotation for today's post and found more satire than odes dedicated to this dark, dense, and ambrosial treat. One comedian itemized 10 things to do with fruitcakes, and his first suggestion is: "Bury them in the back yard for future archaeologists to discover." Well, that's just fine by me. I know treasure when I find it!

Awesome

I am standing on the seashore.

A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze

and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength and I stand and watch her

until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud

just where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says: 'There! She's gone.'

Gone where? Gone from my sight that is all.

She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she

was when she left my side,

and just as able to bear her load of living

freight to the place of destination.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her;

and just at the moment when someone at my side says:

'There! She's gone,'

there are others watching her coming,

and voices ready to take up the glad shout

'There she comes!'

And that is dying.

Charles Henry Brent, Canadian missionary bishop (1862-1929), "The Ship"

The creative writing class is drawing to a close. Our penultimate assignment was to write about our experiences with death and dying. Listening to the stories read aloud, I was humbled by the expressions of my classmates. One left us with Charles Henry Brent's poem, "The Ship". It's a beautiful gift that I wanted to share. Walking out to the parking lot, I looked up into an awesome passageway leading into the heavens. That, too, was a gift.

Sweet Savoury

Savory . . . that's a swell word. And Basil and Betel. Capsicum. Curry. All great. But Relish, now, Relish with a capital R. No argument, that's the best.

Ray Bradbury, American author (1920-2012) in Dandelion Wine

I relished these savoury shortbreads, scrumptiously flavoured with cheeses, spices, and nuts. Shortbread has long been a Christmas tradition at the ol' homestead and I maintain my grandmother's simple recipe of just butter, flour and icing sugar to be the epitome by which all other shortbread are judged. However, having been introduced this past weekend to the savoury shortbreads of the Provisions Food Company, I will now make a new prize category. Provisions has transformed the sweet into a savoury: what a delicious combination. Go figure!

Vineyard Adventures

Accept what life offers you and try to drink from every cup. All wines should be tasted; some should only be sipped, but with others, drink the whole bottle.

Paulo Coelho, Brazilian novelist in Brida (1990)

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Everywhere we went.

Take a look at the Rosewood's Cab Franc, glistening once again,
with notes of raspberry and blackberry aglow.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas,
Warmth from e'vry stove

But the prettiest sight to see
Was the hibiscus floating free
On a spark-ling brut.

A pairing of mushroom soup with Riesling that shines
Is the wish of sis and me

A Bigmouth Merlot and a Bravado Cab-Sauv
Is the hope of Bro and Fraz

And all the while, he said with a smile:
"We're Napa of the North . . . sans attitude"

With apologies to Perry Como, Johnny Mathis, and especially composer Meredith Willson. The wines and the nibbles and the great company just has me singing praises of the "Wrapped Up in the Valley" event. Congratulations and thank-you to one and all at Twenty Valley.

Wrapped Up in 2012

Wine to me is passion. It's family and friends. It's warmth of heart and generosity of spirit. Wine is art. It's culture. It's the essence of civilization and the art of living.

Robert Mondavi, American vintner (1913-2008) in his autobiography, Harvests of Joy

It's that time again; time for sampling good wines accompanied by tasty morsels: it's Wrapped Up in the Valley 2012. The Time Traveller joined our wino threesome on another enjoyable tour up and down Twenty Valley.

Joe at Kacaba Vineyards and Winery was a highlight of today's tour. Never before have we been offered a taste direct from the stainless steel tanks. In addition to this preview of Kacaba's 2012 Sauvignon blanc, Joe offered a delightful commentary on various aspects of wine-making from hand-picking grapes to the bottling operation inside a flatbed truck. It's obvious he loves his work. And the wine? Suffice it to say that we pre-ordered a case of that Sauvignon blanc. It should be ready come Easter.

Visiting the home/winery of Sue-Ann Staff is always a pleasure. We love her big, friendly collie-cross dog, Bricks (or is it Brix?), who greets visitors with a wagging tail and a big smile. We love her stunning chandeliers. We love her mom's flavourful artistry with grilled cheese sandwiches (today's creation featured delicious, homemade spicy peach chutney). And we also love her wines. The 2011 Riesling "Loved by Lu", so-named in honour of the grandmother who taught Sue-Ann how to care for the vines, glistens with fresh fruitiness. Its sparkle is matched only by Sue-Ann's friendliness. Meeting the vintners and learning the stories behind the wines is what really makes the "Wrapped in the Valley" event so much fun.

In Gratitude

Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.

A. A. Milne, English author (1882-1956) in Winnie-the-Pooh

Happy Thanksgiving to my dear American friends! Know that I am grateful for your presence in my life.

Making Sunshine

As the years pass, I am coming more and more to understand that it is the common, everyday blessings of our common everyday lives for which we should be particularly grateful. They are the things that fill our lives with comfort and our hearts with gladness -- just the pure air to breathe and the strength to breath it; just warmth and shelter and home folks; just plain food that gives us strength; the bright sunshine on a cold day; and a cool breeze when the day is warm.

Laura Ingalls Wilder, American author (1867-1957), in Writings to Young Women from Laura Ingalls Wilder - Volume One: On Wisdom and Virtues

Over the past few days fog has blanketed our mornings with gray. Sometimes it's so thick that it envelops houses just across the street beneath a cloak of invisibility. Its heaviness slows down traffic as well as our energy levels.

This morning, though, I broke through the gray with some summer sunshine preserved in a bottle. We had been asked to provide squares for an open house for a local community agency. I came across a very easy recipe for Oatmeal Jam Bars on My Baking Addiction blog, which I tweaked a little to suit the special bottle of apricot, peach and pear jam that was on the shelf. The squares turned out very tasty and they are so quick to put together that I thought I should share.

Oatmeal Jam Bars

Ingredients:
1 (18.25 oz) package of yellow cake mix (I used spice cake mix because I thought the cinnamon would add a touch of 'zing' to the flavour -- and it did!)

2 1/2 cups quick cooking oats

3/4 cup butter, melted

1 cup raspberry jam (I used almost 2 cups. I made one batch with the apricot jam and another with blueberry)

1 tablespoon water (The apricot jam was very thick so I used 2 tbsp of boiling water. I used less water with the blueberry jam)

Directions:
1. Preheat oven to 375 degrees (190 C). Line a 9" X 13" pan with foil and grease.

2. In a large bowl, mix together oats, cake mix and melted butter so that it makes nice clumps and there is no dry mix left. Press half of the oats mixture evenly into the bottom of the prepared pan.

3. In a separate bowl, mix jam with water. Spread over the crust. Sprinkle the remaining oat mixture evenly over the top.

4. Bake in preheated oven for 18-23 minutes, or until the top is lightly browned. Cool before cutting into bars.

Source: http://www.mybakingaddiction.com/super-easy-oatmeal-jam-bars-award/

Shower Christening

Everyone who's ever taken a shower has an idea. It's the person who gets out of the shower, dries off and does something about it who makes a difference.

Nolan Bushnell, American engineer and entrepreneur

The ol' homestead's hot water heater passed away late last night with an hour-long gasp as its warm waters drained out across the basement floor -- and thankfully down the floor drain. I'm told it died of natural causes. Unfortunately, it could not be laid to rest -- in the back of a service truck -- until this evening when the Reliance undertaker came to call. There's never a good time for these things to happen and I needed a shower before heading off to class. S-I-L stepped in giving me the opportunity to christen her lovely new shower. Darn! I forgot the champagne! I planned to write an ode of appreciation, which I began to compose as I lathered, but I forgot it too. So I, and my classmates, bid you a simple "Thank you".

All Are Welcome

It only takes one cat – or person – to make another feel welcome and special.

Laura C. Monteiro, American author, in Mariah Makes a Friend (2012)

Our church is 87 years young. We celebrated Anniversary Sunday with a special gift from the estate of Peter Haworth. Born in Lancaster, England in 1889, he arrived in Canada in 1923 and, it seems, immediately began creating stained-glass windows for a multitude of churches across Ontario, Quebec, and Alberta. We are blessed to gaze upon his work each week and to have received, some eight decades later, five of his original sketches for the magnificent windows that so vividly illumine the Bible stories.

Even before the sermon 'provoked' us to love and good deeds, the congregation sang out with committed voices:

Let us build a house where hands will reach
beyond the wood and stone.
To heal and strengthen, serve and teach,
and live the Word they’ve known.
Here the outcast and the stranger bear
the image of God’s face.
Let us bring an end to fear and danger;

All are welcome, all are welcome,
all are welcome in this place.

Cookie Queens

She went to the window. A fine sheen of sugary frost covered everything in sight, and white smoke rose from chimneys in the valley below the resort town. The window opened to a rush of sharp early November air that would have the town in a flurry of activity, anticipating the tourists the colder weather always brought to the high mountains of North Carolina.

She stuck her head out and took a deep breath. If she could eat the cold air, she would. She thought cold snaps were like cookies, like gingersnaps. In her mind they were made with white chocolate chunks and had a cool, brittle vanilla frosting. They melted like snow in her mouth, turning creamy and warm.

Sarah Addison Allen, American author in The Sugar Queen (2008)

Sugary frost coated Mom's car this morning as we set out just after 8 A.M. for the church. A splendid array of cookies of every flavour, shape and size was lined up ready for shoppers when the doors opened at 9:30 and very few were left when they closed five hours later.

Spicy gingersnaps, velvety shortbread, nutty brittle and oh so much chocolate laden the tables. There was lots of fun, and a few (broken) samples, to be had. And once again the church coffers are rolling in dough. (I had to say that.)

Sleigh Full of Goodies

Mom and I loaded up the car early this morning, taking this year's donation down to the church to set up for tomorrow's Christmas bazaar. What a haul! Most of the cookies appeared here last year, but there are a few new ones that I'll try to post the recipes for . . . after the bazaar. Tonight, it's early to bed.

Lest We Forget

It is right that we take time to remember, O God, and to lament the sacrifice of so many. It is not the minute or hour that we take to call their deeds to mind that vindicates the giving over of all their tomorrows. It is what we do with our todays that speaks volumes. Amen.

A Liturgy of Remembrance, Melrose United Church

Gathered together in a service dedicated to remembrance, we lit a Candle of Thanksgiving, a Candle of Peace, and a Candle of Hope. The hymns, Last Post, O Canada, Reveillé moved us all. Perhaps most importantly, the congregation sang out "Make Me a Channel of Your Peace".

May we all strive to be channels of peace.
Amen.

The Art of Chickens

If I didn't start painting, I would have raised chickens.

Grandma Moses (aka Anna Mary Robertson Moses), American folk artist (1860–1961)

The Time Traveller treated me to a day at the fair. Not just any fair, but the grand-daddy of them all in these parts: the Royal Agricultural Winter Fair, inaugurated in 1922. It runs from November 2nd until the 11th. Today was selected so that we wouldn't miss the "Poultry Show" because the Time Traveller is quite enamoured with Rhode Island Reds and Muskovy ducks. How can I fault him when I took well over 80 pictures of the chickens, ducks, and geese. The artistry of their plumage was so striking in design and colour.

Just check out those boots!

And the bustle on this turkey!

And I love the colours in of the Polish cockerel's jacket and his matching cap. Stunning!

More subdued in looks and demeanor is this white crested couple, but they were so sweet curled up together that I had to take their photo too. Actually, they remind me of Albert Einstein.

The other exhibits provided lots of interesting info and free food samples. We came home with a bag of big P.E.I. potatoes and a bag of carrots. The most exciting event, however, took place in the Coliseum where we watched a few of the horse competitions. The massive Scottish Clydesdales have always awed me but to see their powerful bodies gracefully prance around the ring added to their impressiveness. As if designed to accentuate the contrast, the Clysdesdales followed the Roadster Pony competition. The difference in size couldn't have been greater, but the Roadster Ponies were just as impressive.

We had a great time and came away impressed with the agricultural achievements of the homeland. It's well worth the price of admission. Thanks TT!

Update: 
A friend followed up on my mention of the Clydesdales, writing:

When I saw your reference to the Clydesdale horses it reminded me of a radio programme that was broadcast quite a few years ago about a couple who 'relocated' their stock of Clydesdales from the Isle of Skye (Scotland) to Cumbria (The Lake District) by riding / walking / ferrying the horses the entire journey ! Sadly, the programme seems to have disappeared from the BBC archives, but I managed to find a magazine article about the adventure:

http://lancashire.greatbritishlife.co.uk/article/cumbrian-heavy-horses--the-couple-who-relocated-themselves-and-12-clydesdale-horses-29140/

I have now added the Cumbrian Heavy Horse Centre to my bucket list. What a fabulous experience that would be, to ride one of those wonderful animals!

Cross-Country Shop Hop

It is in his pleasure that a man really lives; it is from his leisure that he constructs the true fabric of self.

Agnes Repplier, American essayist (1855–1950)

Five women jumped into Dad's car and set off at 9 A.M. for a day-trip shopping adventure. We covered a lot of ground from Stratford to Shakespeare to Kitchener and on to St. Jacobs before heading home eight hours later. The hours flew bye as quickly as the clicks on the odometer. What fun we had perusing stashes of 'fat quarters' seeking out gems for our current projects or inspiration for future projects. I discovered some pharaonic-themed fabric that can only be described as exquisite. I will enjoy mulling over an equally exquisite design perfect for them.

Each shop offered a unique inventory of cotton fabrics and patterns so all five of us looked forward to each stop along the journey. What's more, as we collected a stamp in our "shop hop passport", we received a gift of a small piece of fabric that combine to make a lovely Christmas tree. What a nice touch!

To the shop keepers who put on such a fun marketing event: Thank you! I'm sure they climbed under their own quilts this evening and fell fast asleep.

If you happen to find yourself in the neighbourhood, stop by:
Ye Olde Fabric Shoppe, Stratford
The Quilt Place, Shakespeare
     **and be sure to stop at Rose Marie's Family Restaurant for hearty home-cooked meals at very reasonable prices.
Creative Sisters Quilt Studio, Kitchener
Reichard's: The Quilter's Store, St. Jacobs
Although it didn't participate in this year's Shop Hop, I can also recommend Quilt Essentials, located at 1340 King North in St. Jacobs.

Precious Memories Recovered

And the older you get, the more important the photograph albums become. Little images on paper. Precious memories. You will look at the photographs again and again and again. They are the visual evidence of place and time and relationships. Ritual talismans for the treasure chest of the heart.

Robert Fulghum, American author in From Beginning to End: The Rituals of Our Lives (1995)

"Writing Your Life Story" is great fun -- even when pressed to complete homework exercises in time for class. (I was writing tonight's assignment in the hairdresser's chair this afternoon.) Some of my classmates write for their families, preserving key moments of their lives that their children and grandchildren will cherish for its insight into the person who was thought of as 'dad', 'mom', 'grandpa' or 'grandma' rather than as 'Ari', 'Kathy' or 'Lynda'. Others write for themselves for the pleasure of remembering the good, and understanding the difficult times. All of us are enjoying the experience.

Remembering the wonderful little Egyptian vignettes that added so much to my life has been made much easier thanks to Mom, who collected every email I ever wrote from the Middle East in 11 thick binders, and Dad, who purchased a USB floppy disk drive to transfer to newer technology the long forgotten (and probably lost) images that he had saved more than a decade ago. The photos unlock treasured memories of friends and family, places worked and places lived. How very fortunate am I? My heart is full of gratefulness.

Mom's Nine Patch

Life is like a patchwork quilt
And each little patch is a day,
Some patches are rosy, happy and bright,
And some are dark and gray.

But each little patch as it's fitted in
And sewn to keep it together
Makes a finished block in this life of ours
Filled with sun, and with rainy weather.

So let me work on Life's patchwork quilt
Through the rainy days and the sun --
Trusting that when I have finished my block
The master may say: "Well done."

Elizabeth Ryan DeCoursey in The Romance of the Patchwork Quilt in America (1935)

As Hurricane Sandy began blustering around us, the quilting group gathered round Mom's completed nine-patch quilt and marveled at her achievement. All of her points line up! And it's stunning to behold! It's a nine patch masterpiece! Well done Mom!!