Spring [of sorts] has arrived in Ottawa with Daylight Saving Time this past Sunday and folks were out and about enjoying the warmer weather - the store window celebrated with a collection of related books and a quote:
"Here and there a patch of snow,
Dirtier than the ground below,
Dribbles down a marshy flood;
Ankle-deep you stick in mud
In the meadows while you sing,
"This is Spring."
by Christopher Pearce Cranch - A Spring Growl
Walking towards the Market people I meet smile easily, whereas a month ago they'd be muffled in scarves, collars pulled up around their ears, heads bent against the wind. The exception to this openness are those plugged into their personal world, and I'm inclined to worry about them - you can see by their faces they are involved in a world apart from the street, not sharing.
I blew my top yesterday morning when our son confessed to listening to his I-Pod while walking his dog. Baer is a dig furry mongrel who found him and is devoted to him. He is young, only a puppy and very sensitive, so care must be taken not to frighten him. A broken glass caused him distress the other morning when a member of the family shrieked. He takes his dog biscuits in the other room so that our pack of three don't rob him - has yet to stand up to Lizzie the Rat Terrier even though he is ten times her size. With Baer I say “Excuse me” when he’s lying across the threshold, while the other dogs get “Shift”. He is a very sensitive dog.
I seldom see the young people picking up dog food from the store next to ours wearing earphones, occasionally one will walk by with their dog, listening to their music while their dogs walk on looking lost
Have even seen mothers with baby carriages listening to their I-Pods, wonder if they'll ever hear Spring birds...Both babies & dogs need personal attention.
Occasionally I have listened to audio books while driving; and am a devout radio listener and on Sundays play Seriously Sinatra in the bookstore, checking to see how many singer/songwriters there are - Cole Porter!
The rest of the week we play the classical music station on SIRIUS Radio.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
ironing shirts
Ironing Shirts
There is something to be said for ironing, and the smell of
freshly ironed garments - but how many folks still iron clothes?
I was thinking of this yesterday, when I was small there was
a rhyme that went:
Monday: Wash Day
In the days before automatic washing machines we had wringer
washers, and putting shirts through the wringer one had to be
careful or the buttons could get caught and possibly tear the
fabric of crack. One summer morning I was watching to make sure
that the buttons were feeding through flat and managed to wring
my hand through along with the shirt - it was an electric machine
with a reverse on the wringer so I wrung my hand back through -
made a mess and I can still see the scar some sixty years later.
Tuesday: Ironing Day
Wednesday: Sewing Day
Thursday: Market Day
Friday: Cleaning Day
Saturday: Baking Day
Sunday: Day of Rest
Since it was Tuesday I had four shirts to iron. Starting out I
realized they were too dry and so I sprayed and rolled each one so
they'd be ready while I set up the ironing board and plugged in
the iron.
I remember visiting at the lake where my great-aunts used heavy
irons that they heated on the wood stove. When one iron would cool
off another would be ready on the stove.
Taking the first shirt and unrolling it out of the board, reach
for the collar (think small parts first) and carefully press the
collar.
Turn the shirt over and fold along the yoke line - this is a
man's shirt, press along the yoke and over the front of the shoulder,
both sides.
Sleeves are next, starting with the small part, the cuff - press
then along the sleeve smoothing out any wrinkles, turn it over
and press the other side. Proceed to the second sleeve.
N.B. A point to remember is that on women's sleeves there should
never be a crease, unlike a man's shirt.
Told to me by one of my elegant French ladies, who used to design
the costumes for the School of Ballet.
The first side to iron is the one with the buttons, the piece up
by the neck should already be ironed when I did the yoke, so carefully
down the front, move it over for full coverage.
Next - the back, starting up at the edge where the yoke line is -
press that out and watch for pleats or tucks along the lower side
of the back.
When the back is finished on to the last piece the button hole
side of the front, again the piece up by the neck should already
be ironed so the rest is easy.
Now carefully hang the shirt on a hanger and let it rest.
Mmmm... the smell of a freshly ironed shirt
There is something to be said for ironing, and the smell of
freshly ironed garments - but how many folks still iron clothes?
I was thinking of this yesterday, when I was small there was
a rhyme that went:
Monday: Wash Day
In the days before automatic washing machines we had wringer
washers, and putting shirts through the wringer one had to be
careful or the buttons could get caught and possibly tear the
fabric of crack. One summer morning I was watching to make sure
that the buttons were feeding through flat and managed to wring
my hand through along with the shirt - it was an electric machine
with a reverse on the wringer so I wrung my hand back through -
made a mess and I can still see the scar some sixty years later.
Tuesday: Ironing Day
Wednesday: Sewing Day
Thursday: Market Day
Friday: Cleaning Day
Saturday: Baking Day
Sunday: Day of Rest
Since it was Tuesday I had four shirts to iron. Starting out I
realized they were too dry and so I sprayed and rolled each one so
they'd be ready while I set up the ironing board and plugged in
the iron.
I remember visiting at the lake where my great-aunts used heavy
irons that they heated on the wood stove. When one iron would cool
off another would be ready on the stove.
Taking the first shirt and unrolling it out of the board, reach
for the collar (think small parts first) and carefully press the
collar.
Turn the shirt over and fold along the yoke line - this is a
man's shirt, press along the yoke and over the front of the shoulder,
both sides.
Sleeves are next, starting with the small part, the cuff - press
then along the sleeve smoothing out any wrinkles, turn it over
and press the other side. Proceed to the second sleeve.
N.B. A point to remember is that on women's sleeves there should
never be a crease, unlike a man's shirt.
Told to me by one of my elegant French ladies, who used to design
the costumes for the School of Ballet.
The first side to iron is the one with the buttons, the piece up
by the neck should already be ironed when I did the yoke, so carefully
down the front, move it over for full coverage.
Next - the back, starting up at the edge where the yoke line is -
press that out and watch for pleats or tucks along the lower side
of the back.
When the back is finished on to the last piece the button hole
side of the front, again the piece up by the neck should already
be ironed so the rest is easy.
Now carefully hang the shirt on a hanger and let it rest.
Mmmm... the smell of a freshly ironed shirt
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Birds, etc.
Since we've moved up to the lake, it's become a pleasant habit to feed the birds. There are three feeders for seeds, two with mixed seed and the black sunflowers seed preferred by the Chickadees, the third has Niger seed for the Goldfinches and Warblers, along with two feeders for the Hummingbirds.
As the young birds hatched, their parents would drop them off at the feeders, and it's been fun to watch them learning. In particular the young Hairy Woodpeckers who have a hard time perching on the feeder so they hang onto the edge of the feeder and fling seeds off in their search for the ones they enjoy. This is a bonus for the Chipmunks who scurry around like small vacuum cleaners scooping up the fallen seed.
I was standing watching this whirlwind activity the other morning when suddenly a pair of wings flashed past my nose. A Hawk had seen the Chipmunks as well and was intent on breakfast. There was a flurry as the small fury ones fled for cover and the Hawk took off in disgust; a chorus of angry warnings following him as the Chipmunks let the other creatures know to beware.
With the humming bird feeders I try to remember to remove them in the evening, returning them in the morning to be sure that the little birds won’t suffer from a chilly feeder. We use a four water to one ration of sugar and renew it frequently in warm weather.
Yesterday morning I went out to fill the feeders and realized I had forgotten to bring the liquid feeders in and the feeders were completely empty, one thrown on the ground, the other had been drained all the little yellow screens removed. There were strange footprints in the sand that John had been using to adjust the patio stones, these weren’t those of the Chipmunk tribe or those of Raccoons - consulting the Handbook of Tracks they looked very much like those of the Flying Squirrel Glaucomys sabrinus .
.
We have had at least one Flying Squirrel resident in the attic that we have seen while doing renovations, the noise disturbed their slumber and brought them out.
"Their fondness for maple sap has often led to their tumbling into sap buckets in spring and drowning."
It appears that they do have a sweet tooth - which may offer an explanation of what happened to the missing eight ounces of sugar water …
As the young birds hatched, their parents would drop them off at the feeders, and it's been fun to watch them learning. In particular the young Hairy Woodpeckers who have a hard time perching on the feeder so they hang onto the edge of the feeder and fling seeds off in their search for the ones they enjoy. This is a bonus for the Chipmunks who scurry around like small vacuum cleaners scooping up the fallen seed.
I was standing watching this whirlwind activity the other morning when suddenly a pair of wings flashed past my nose. A Hawk had seen the Chipmunks as well and was intent on breakfast. There was a flurry as the small fury ones fled for cover and the Hawk took off in disgust; a chorus of angry warnings following him as the Chipmunks let the other creatures know to beware.
With the humming bird feeders I try to remember to remove them in the evening, returning them in the morning to be sure that the little birds won’t suffer from a chilly feeder. We use a four water to one ration of sugar and renew it frequently in warm weather.
Yesterday morning I went out to fill the feeders and realized I had forgotten to bring the liquid feeders in and the feeders were completely empty, one thrown on the ground, the other had been drained all the little yellow screens removed. There were strange footprints in the sand that John had been using to adjust the patio stones, these weren’t those of the Chipmunk tribe or those of Raccoons - consulting the Handbook of Tracks they looked very much like those of the Flying Squirrel Glaucomys sabrinus .
.
We have had at least one Flying Squirrel resident in the attic that we have seen while doing renovations, the noise disturbed their slumber and brought them out.
"Their fondness for maple sap has often led to their tumbling into sap buckets in spring and drowning."
It appears that they do have a sweet tooth - which may offer an explanation of what happened to the missing eight ounces of sugar water …
Sunday, July 13, 2008
"The King's Breakfast"
We were reminded of A. A. Milne's poem "The King's Breakfast" in When "We Were Very Young" when the King hoping for breakfast and discovers to his horror that there is no butter for "The Royal slice of bread"
It has always been something of a Sunday morning ritual, Kippers [smoked Scottish herrings], with brown bread, orange juice and strong tea; if the dogs are lucky they'd get a sandwich of bread soaked in the Kipper juice.
Like the King wanting "A little bit of butter for My bread!" we had hoped for the juicy smoked herring fillets on our bread, but this was not to be,
The Kippers in question had been purchased the day before from our fish store in the Byward Market, but when I opened the bag found some strange long dark herrings and the label read Smoked Dutch Style, in truth they had
never been near the Netherlands.
A pan was found to accommodate them and when they were poached - they had curled up and looked even worse. John was to be the first to sample and pronounced them 'very salty' but did not sob, or whimper. Sunday morning's breakfast treat was not to be.
We tried our local Market grocer, then the up-scale grocery on Beechwood without success. About to give up, we told our Bulgarian family member, Mimi of the problem and she smiled and said ' The Super Store has them!’
Our next trip into town found us entering the Super Store and without much delay, discovered the fish counter and the packets of Scottish Kippers, delighted I bought five of the frozen Kippers. These are lovely little boneless, boil in the bag with a butter ‘flower’ imprint; when I was very young they came as FISH with bones and all, and it would take a good five minutes to remove the spine and all the bones buried in the flesh.
The following Sunday morning saw us seated at the table, with the sun’s reflection off the lake playing on the ceiling and a lovely breakfast of Kippers, brown bread , orange juice and tea; with three dogs waiting for their tribute of bread soaked in Kipper broth.
It has always been something of a Sunday morning ritual, Kippers [smoked Scottish herrings], with brown bread, orange juice and strong tea; if the dogs are lucky they'd get a sandwich of bread soaked in the Kipper juice.
Like the King wanting "A little bit of butter for My bread!" we had hoped for the juicy smoked herring fillets on our bread, but this was not to be,
The Kippers in question had been purchased the day before from our fish store in the Byward Market, but when I opened the bag found some strange long dark herrings and the label read Smoked Dutch Style, in truth they had
never been near the Netherlands.
A pan was found to accommodate them and when they were poached - they had curled up and looked even worse. John was to be the first to sample and pronounced them 'very salty' but did not sob, or whimper. Sunday morning's breakfast treat was not to be.
We tried our local Market grocer, then the up-scale grocery on Beechwood without success. About to give up, we told our Bulgarian family member, Mimi of the problem and she smiled and said ' The Super Store has them!’
Our next trip into town found us entering the Super Store and without much delay, discovered the fish counter and the packets of Scottish Kippers, delighted I bought five of the frozen Kippers. These are lovely little boneless, boil in the bag with a butter ‘flower’ imprint; when I was very young they came as FISH with bones and all, and it would take a good five minutes to remove the spine and all the bones buried in the flesh.
The following Sunday morning saw us seated at the table, with the sun’s reflection off the lake playing on the ceiling and a lovely breakfast of Kippers, brown bread , orange juice and tea; with three dogs waiting for their tribute of bread soaked in Kipper broth.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Critters
John woke me up last night about 2:30 a.m. to see the fireflies, the first of the season, they really were brilliant. He commented that the Moth Man was up as the lighted sheet was on.
Later in the morning after he'd left for the store, I was taking the dogs and saw Jim & Katherine coming down the hill, he was excited - it had been a bonanza and we had to see.
Stephen and I followed them and the sheet hanging just to the side of the patio door was covered with moths. Apparently conditions were just right - hot, humid, overcast sky - and he showed them off like a magician pulling tricks
The three large moths on the sheet the other night were:
Luna moth: http://moths.ca/saturniidae/pages/07758-actias-luna-A2.html
Cecropia moth: http://moths.ca/saturniidae/pages/07767-hyalophora-cecropia-A.html
Waved Sphinx moth: http://moths.ca/sphingidae/pages/07787-ceratomia-undulosa-A.html
They had put the light on at 12:30 then he checked it at 4:30 a.m. then pulled Katherine out to see, she said there were also 5 Ladyslipper orchids growing close by. Jim said he had heard gnawing under the cottage during he night and that he'd seen mama porcupine with her baby.
Have a feeling that they moved up under the shed as their original haunt, the Trout Cabin has been restored. Will have to check the tires on the Mazda in the shed as porcupine are fond of chewing them for the salt.
John has seen the mother Mallard Duck with 10 little fuzzy ones parading down the road. Raccoons are about [why do they have masks?] and some critter had eaten the Scarlet Bean seedlings I had started in the porch.
There are two Humming Bird feeders, and other seed feeders hanging in the patio so lots of bird life and a horde of Chipmunks picking up seed that drops - they are very friendly and will wait while I fill the feeders, scatter to safety if the dogs approach.
The first garter snake of the season appeared on the patio this morning looking bright and clean will watch to see if his 'shed' is nearby, I have one very long shed skin draped over the computer and it is so light that every time the computer turns on the skin jumps... We often have a large family of the snakes basking on the patio in the early morning sun, before they head off in search of breakfast.
Later in the morning after he'd left for the store, I was taking the dogs and saw Jim & Katherine coming down the hill, he was excited - it had been a bonanza and we had to see.
Stephen and I followed them and the sheet hanging just to the side of the patio door was covered with moths. Apparently conditions were just right - hot, humid, overcast sky - and he showed them off like a magician pulling tricks
The three large moths on the sheet the other night were:
Luna moth: http://moths.ca/saturniidae/pages/07758-actias-luna-A2.html
Cecropia moth: http://moths.ca/saturniidae/pages/07767-hyalophora-cecropia-A.html
Waved Sphinx moth: http://moths.ca/sphingidae/pages/07787-ceratomia-undulosa-A.html
They had put the light on at 12:30 then he checked it at 4:30 a.m. then pulled Katherine out to see, she said there were also 5 Ladyslipper orchids growing close by. Jim said he had heard gnawing under the cottage during he night and that he'd seen mama porcupine with her baby.
Have a feeling that they moved up under the shed as their original haunt, the Trout Cabin has been restored. Will have to check the tires on the Mazda in the shed as porcupine are fond of chewing them for the salt.
John has seen the mother Mallard Duck with 10 little fuzzy ones parading down the road. Raccoons are about [why do they have masks?] and some critter had eaten the Scarlet Bean seedlings I had started in the porch.
There are two Humming Bird feeders, and other seed feeders hanging in the patio so lots of bird life and a horde of Chipmunks picking up seed that drops - they are very friendly and will wait while I fill the feeders, scatter to safety if the dogs approach.
The first garter snake of the season appeared on the patio this morning looking bright and clean will watch to see if his 'shed' is nearby, I have one very long shed skin draped over the computer and it is so light that every time the computer turns on the skin jumps... We often have a large family of the snakes basking on the patio in the early morning sun, before they head off in search of breakfast.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Learning to COOK
When I first started to cook there were two, maybe three things that I had been taught (by former boyfriends) we didn't have much opportunity at home as Mom was a full-time kitchen guru - I lie, we were allowed to flatten the oatmeal cookies with a fork...
so there was a great recipe for Spaghetti sauce from someone who drove a red MG and a Chicken recipe from Freddie Moo Young that owed it's allegiance to Jamaican origins
Arriving in Frobisher Bay in 1960 with a Ukrainian Cookbook, from Saskatchewan, our first efforts were dismal - bread that landed like lead, so when John arrived for Christmas - we had bacon & eggs as I'd neglected to thaw the Turkey, and Frobisher had only one restaurant - The Eastie Coastie (run by a South African).
Help arrived in the form of Liddie Johnson the Dutch wife of one of the teachers, she introduced me to the art of the Indonesian Rice Table and it's numerous goodies.
When our posting was to Cape Dorset - we found the 2 volume set of Gourmet left by Alma Houston (Jim Houston's first wife) - and my education began. In those days there was no accommodation in the small settlements so we would act as hotel for whoever was visiting. It also meant we had to cook for them and what if the roast was ruined? Remembering the dishes of the Rice Table I'd search for something no one else had ever eaten hoping they wouldn't know the difference, it worked and thankfully due to Gourmet's great recipes the meal turned out very well.
We left the north after some very successful meals in the Fort Smith in the western Arctic, we landed in Victoria and with help from Auntie Al and my mom was able to accommodate more traditional fare.
The last chapter:
The boys were small and there was no Sesame Street so I'd plunk them down in front of Julia Child and The Galloping Gourmet - have a faded photo of them sitting in their little chairs as she tasted and stirred.
Today David makes a mean Cheesecake and wonderful Bread, while Stephen after finishing the Hotel & Restaurant training at Algonquin College went on to do do his Cordon Bleu, finishing at Claridges in London.
And so we keep on learning ... now me from them.
so there was a great recipe for Spaghetti sauce from someone who drove a red MG and a Chicken recipe from Freddie Moo Young that owed it's allegiance to Jamaican origins
Arriving in Frobisher Bay in 1960 with a Ukrainian Cookbook, from Saskatchewan, our first efforts were dismal - bread that landed like lead, so when John arrived for Christmas - we had bacon & eggs as I'd neglected to thaw the Turkey, and Frobisher had only one restaurant - The Eastie Coastie (run by a South African).
Help arrived in the form of Liddie Johnson the Dutch wife of one of the teachers, she introduced me to the art of the Indonesian Rice Table and it's numerous goodies.
When our posting was to Cape Dorset - we found the 2 volume set of Gourmet left by Alma Houston (Jim Houston's first wife) - and my education began. In those days there was no accommodation in the small settlements so we would act as hotel for whoever was visiting. It also meant we had to cook for them and what if the roast was ruined? Remembering the dishes of the Rice Table I'd search for something no one else had ever eaten hoping they wouldn't know the difference, it worked and thankfully due to Gourmet's great recipes the meal turned out very well.
We left the north after some very successful meals in the Fort Smith in the western Arctic, we landed in Victoria and with help from Auntie Al and my mom was able to accommodate more traditional fare.
The last chapter:
The boys were small and there was no Sesame Street so I'd plunk them down in front of Julia Child and The Galloping Gourmet - have a faded photo of them sitting in their little chairs as she tasted and stirred.
Today David makes a mean Cheesecake and wonderful Bread, while Stephen after finishing the Hotel & Restaurant training at Algonquin College went on to do do his Cordon Bleu, finishing at Claridges in London.
And so we keep on learning ... now me from them.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
BLACK FLIES
We started filling the boxes for the Square Foot Garden early
Saturday mixing equal quantities of peat moss, soil and
Vermiculite. The morning was bright and sunny and we were
looking forward to accomplishing the task, our enjoyment
was quickly curtailed when we were discovered by a horde
of black flies.
All the years we spent in the North we never experienced
black flies, in fact were slightly suspicious of their
reputation. Mosquitoes rarely bothered us, while they'd
settle on anyone walking near by.
Heading for the shelter of the cottage, we searched out
a head net and wide brimmed hat. Never having used a net
before we put it on then added the hat, the black flies
soon discovered our mistake and had lunch. We retreated
again and this time got it right with the net over the
hat. Normally we do not go to these lengths but it seemed
necessary as we needed to get the garden boxes filled.
Remembering too from experience at Dog Workshops, that
heavily scented shampoos and soaps make one susceptible
Doing some consultation on Black Flies, discovered that
light coloured clothing is preferable, our unfortunate
Great Dane is black and is constantly being chased by
the hungry flies. We also learned that there are at
least one hundred and ten species in Canada and the
female insect belonging to order Diptera, family
Simuliidae is the one with the damaging toothed stylets
that bite, not the male.
In the forest industry workers in Quebec and British
Columbia ask for black fly control in their contract.
Livestock [like our poor dog] suffer and in 1944-1947
during a bad outbreak of the pests inn Saskatchewan
1100 cattle were killed by a species that carries a
toxin in its saliva.
How to survive? We remember reading in D.B.O.Savile's
book "Collection and Care of Botanical Specimens"
advice to young plant collectors heading into the
Northern regions to "develop a philisophical attitude"
that you would never be sucked dry and to use a
repellent where the protective net met your collar,
tuck your pants into your socks.
Further information on the Black Fly can be found
on Alberta Agriculture's website and in the Canadian
Encyclopedia by R. A. Brust.
The good news: black flies are supposed be more
attentive early in the morning, after a rain or
early in the evening. Best of all we have heard
that black flies are the creature that fertilizes
blueberries.
Saturday mixing equal quantities of peat moss, soil and
Vermiculite. The morning was bright and sunny and we were
looking forward to accomplishing the task, our enjoyment
was quickly curtailed when we were discovered by a horde
of black flies.
All the years we spent in the North we never experienced
black flies, in fact were slightly suspicious of their
reputation. Mosquitoes rarely bothered us, while they'd
settle on anyone walking near by.
Heading for the shelter of the cottage, we searched out
a head net and wide brimmed hat. Never having used a net
before we put it on then added the hat, the black flies
soon discovered our mistake and had lunch. We retreated
again and this time got it right with the net over the
hat. Normally we do not go to these lengths but it seemed
necessary as we needed to get the garden boxes filled.
Remembering too from experience at Dog Workshops, that
heavily scented shampoos and soaps make one susceptible
Doing some consultation on Black Flies, discovered that
light coloured clothing is preferable, our unfortunate
Great Dane is black and is constantly being chased by
the hungry flies. We also learned that there are at
least one hundred and ten species in Canada and the
female insect belonging to order Diptera, family
Simuliidae is the one with the damaging toothed stylets
that bite, not the male.
In the forest industry workers in Quebec and British
Columbia ask for black fly control in their contract.
Livestock [like our poor dog] suffer and in 1944-1947
during a bad outbreak of the pests inn Saskatchewan
1100 cattle were killed by a species that carries a
toxin in its saliva.
How to survive? We remember reading in D.B.O.Savile's
book "Collection and Care of Botanical Specimens"
advice to young plant collectors heading into the
Northern regions to "develop a philisophical attitude"
that you would never be sucked dry and to use a
repellent where the protective net met your collar,
tuck your pants into your socks.
Further information on the Black Fly can be found
on Alberta Agriculture's website and in the Canadian
Encyclopedia by R. A. Brust.
The good news: black flies are supposed be more
attentive early in the morning, after a rain or
early in the evening. Best of all we have heard
that black flies are the creature that fertilizes
blueberries.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)