I learnt something this evening. I said that I would be going away for a few days. (I am heading back to Nova Scotia - which means that my computer access will be very limited.) In any case my statement met with laughter. I was puzzled. Then they explained. It seems that saying that someone has "gone away" here means that that person is dead. I am not dead, yet.
Yesterday in the sunshine I looked out from my porch and saw the thin sliver of the creek, silver in the sun. I didn't know that it was so close. Before the leaves fell, I couldn't see it at all. But today after hours and hours of rain it is a broad expanse. So if I look over the railroad tracks and through the power lines, there is my water. I always want to be in sight of water.
Suddenly in the night it became very warm. When I did see the temperature this afternoon it was 22 - so a lovely Indian Summer day. Anyway, when I got up Miss Johnston demanded to go out. It was so lovely that I followed her. So here she is, the sentinel of the dawn. It was misty, and the water droplets show as large spotches in the picture.
Here's another image from the north shore of the Fundy. I go down to the Fundy shore to absorb the tremendous energy of the place. It has the world's highest tides, which is a lot of water and a lot of energy shifting twice a day - always moving - never still. There are amazing stories about the Bay. Many surround the sightings of otherworldly craft drawing on the Bay for their energy supply. We saw one, once, so I know that there is some truth to the tales. But I return to the Bay for my own energy, to be recharged. It is a feel-good place. Have you found a feel-good place?
This is my second posting of the day because the site was down last evening when I was trying to connect with you all.
This formation is called the "Flower Pot". Twenty-one of us from the church went for a hike this morning along the northern shore of the Bay of Fundy near Saint Martin's. These are good faithful people who enjoy being together. They call themselves "The Boomers", although, technically, some are too old for that classification, as strictly speaking, the Baby Boomers were born after the War. Are you too old to be a Baby Boomer, but still put yourself in that category? I am guilty.
This is my concession to the season. I am living in a small apartment. Someday I shall be home for good and the things here, scary cats and all, will go home with me. Meanwhile this place offers me a ministry, a lovely location as well as high speed internet - which I do not have at home. I am here now. Someday I shall be somewhere else.
The rawness left and the sun came out and I took a break this afternoon. After hassling them at the bank, I drove down the valley and just enjoyed the countryside. Here are a couple of pictures. Something in my soul needs green and open water. I get desperate in February.
This is the same tree as on Monday, but today the wind is sharp, the air is damp and it looks like snow. No one is lingering outside. This is the only evening this week when I don't have a meeting - so I am vegging out with "Gateway to Atlantis: the search for the source of a lost civilization". The cats have snuggled in, but I have some difficulty in persuading Miss Johnston not to sit between me and the book. I need to escape.
The weather is getting cooler, and I am cocooning for the winter ahead. Each morning I have to scrape the frost off the car. I couldn't find my scraper - so yesterday I bought a new one and a bottle to spray on the windows. Frost is not a good sign at all.
So here are the cushions on my couch where I find that I do most of my work and which I share with a couple of cats. So many months to spend indoors - so dark now in the mornings - so much winter to come.
This was the view from my kitchen window on Friday - two days ago. The leaves are all gone now.
I have been spending the day doing unpleasant work as I try to decipher two contrary church regulations in order entertain some disciplanary action, which I profoundly hope will not be necessary. My denomination prides itself in being democratic, which now means that there are so many rules, that even the Byzantines had it more together than we do.
So while I pondered taking a picture of "The Manual", I decided that life offered more - like pretty leaves.
There were many of these wreathes hanging for yesterday's Fall Bazaar and Luncheon. It was really quite a class act. And now I am between services, a morning service, a dinner for a departing parishioner and there will be a service this evening. It is a busy place, but good people and there are lots of laughter and a deep faith.
Now before certain family members scream at me, I never, well hardly ever, pick up hitch hikers. Last week I left early for Nova Scotia. I had the cats with me and their litter box was on the floor in front of the front passenger seat. The sun rose just as I was passing through the Cobequid toll booth. Just after that I put out my hand to the passenger seat and touched something wet and squishy. A cat had thrown up. I stopped shortly thereafter and cleaned up the solids, but the front seat was wet. That sets the stage.
Just after I got back on the road I saw a large young man in an orange jump suit frantically waving me down. I stopped and rolled down the window. "I've got to get to Halifax quick." "Huh?" I read "Psycho Ward" printed on his chest. This figures. He's desperate: "Contest". I open the door and he jumps in on the wet seat with his feet in the litter box. We're off.
"Radio Contest". There're three of us. I'm the last. The first to get to the station gets tickets to ...... concert." I miss the name of the concert which he seemed sure that I would know. "They took our wallets and cell phones, so I only have an ID saying that I'm in the context. So I'm supposed to phone the station on your cell phone." "I don't have a cell phone." "You don't?!!!". He really got a winner. We zipped down the road, faster than I usually go, but not as fast as he would have liked, although he didn't say so.
Then I realized that I was being tailed. It seemed that it was the radio station car who had dropped him off. I could see that the driver was on his cell phone.
My pickup was a nice kid who had taken a day off college. I learnt a lot about radio and about the Chicken Burger sale ($10,000,000.00) I took his picture as soon as I dropped him off. It must have been on the radio because immediately another car pulled over to pick him up.
The afternoon before I left Northern Ontario a dear friend gave me three envelopes of seeds with "squash" penciled on each. I planted them after I had cleared three years of growth out of the garden I had started years before. Here is the splendid result. Friends came by and helped themselves. I have brought some back with me to New Brunswick.
I particularly love the aqua blue monsters that look very alien. You never know what will grow from a small gift of a seed.
I cooked the turkey. My son baked the bread. The grandchildren made the centrepiece. It was great. Here's a close up of the centrepiece. After the turkey was tucked in the oven we went for a walk to collect the leaves to put around the paper turkey.
I picked up a gallon of paint before I went over the mountain to home. All the paint is now on the house as well as some more on the trim. There is so much more to do and this is only the first coat after having put on the primer. I shall not be finished this year, but it will be waiting for me when the weather warms up again. A weekend of glorious sunshine, now it is raining - this is the Thanksgiving Holiday and I have driven to my son's with the turkey to cook.
Later that same day - I'm heading home early tomorrow to get back to the paint job. Here's the house earlier in the year. There's lots to paint. I'll stop by the supplier on my way through the town to pick up another can of paint - interior or exterior - depending on the weather.
September 30 I took a picture of the maple tree outside my bedroom window. Here are the leaves now. I suppose that I could wax poetic about the seasons of our lives, but winter is coming, my least favourite time of the year. Not because it doesn't look beautiful and not because I mind the cold - but shovelling, scraping, driving on slippery roads and snow boots get me down. And this tree is telling me that it won't be long now.
Last year this fall guy hung in Northern Ontario. I wonder where he will be next year. I thought that I would retire to back home in Nova Scotia, but now with this financial crisis who knows. But then life is unpredictable, so I'll just take it a day at a time.
I walk back and forth to the gym three times a week. I get tired of taking the same walk so I put in a little variance. Here I was going though a back alley when I saw this tree. Is this a case of bloom where you are palnted? Is there a life lesson here? Or is this tree a little misguided? I am thankful that it is not my building.
We went for a walk along the bluffs above Sussex Vale. When we reached the peak we found that the lovers had got there first. So there they are in their own little romantic world and here is the happy gang who destroyed their private tryst.
Some of us went on an over night retreat to a lake. So later this morning we took a break and walked down to the lake. I had my camera with me and was snapping picutures of leaves and stuff. So when asked I said that I was taking snaps for my blog. That's when the camera was taken from me and they insisted that they take a snap of me to show to you all that I actually got to a lake.
A couple of days ago there was a snap of Bob and I. It caught my square halo. So today this came in my email box: "As to your square halo in your blog pic: some bishops in Middle Ages' illustrations were shown with a square halo, i.e., a sign that they were still alive. So it's a good sign. Keep breathing." This is excellent news.
I originally put this blog together as a means of keeping in touch with family and friends whilst I was away. But sometimes it becomes a collaborative effort. My sister sent this to me last evening. She took this fabulous picture a couple of weeks ago when she was in Niagara. Isn't it luscious!