After planting last Saturday I went down to the beach to find rock week to fertilize it, but hardly any had been washed up. I suppose I need to wait until there is a storm, but then the storm would not necessarily be very welcome. I suppose that one just waits to see what life washes in.
And now, do you eat bananas? Here is a movie trailer:
My personal dresser took me to Louis' 2 for 1 Monday sale from which she unfitted me in 8 pants, 8 tops, 2 jackets, 2 pairs of pyjamas and 2 vests, all name brands for $48.16, This gem of a shopper had been watching my clothes get baggier and baggier as I lost more and more weight, so she took pity on me and invited me to her favourite sport - shopping at the second hand emporium. I never would have done it on my own.
Hugh turns eleven and gets his favourite, his mother's homemade sushi and miso soup.
Then comes the cupcakes that his aunt sent long distance. Being his grandmother, I get invited to the festivities, which is terrific because I love the menu!
Last Saturday the game was rained out. The next day our tickets were good for a double header. So here we go to the ball park to cheer on the Portland Seadogs - at least I was cheering them on - my friend was rooting for the Trenton Thunder.
And here is the controversial statue celebrating the All American family.
It seems right to me: active father and son and passive mother and daughter.
And here is the game which began in the sunshine.
What ever happened to the uniform - what are these long pants? The Trenton team were dressed in the proper socks and knickers.
By the fifth inning the Seadogs were losing. ( I blame it on the pants.) and the skies opened and the rain poured down. We left. I have no idea who won, if anyone, and if they played the second game. I prefer dry games in the summertime. But before leaving I tried the culinary offering at the park: fried dough!
Some day we shall complete Route 1 from Fort Kent to Key West, but this time we covered from Portland to Brunswick in the rain. The first stop was in Falmouth at Delorme Maps. This is Eartha the largest globe in the world. It slowly revolves.Fascinating. http://www.delorme.com/default.aspx
And the third stop was the Bowdoin College Museum of Art in Brunswick.
This is one of Bowdoin's six imposing relief sculptures from the Assyrian King Assurnazirpal's palace built in the ninth century BC, destroyed in the seventh century BC and excavated in the nineteenth century AD by the British archaeologist A.H. Layard. I was thrilled to see up close what I had only seen in dusty old books. http://www.bowdoin.edu/art-museum/ I liked the works by Danny Jauregui, and there was a stunning work by Andrew Wyeth. This is it: "Night Hauling"
It was wet in Maine, but then it is April. So a lot of Bananagram was played. I shall post pictures in the next few days. But first I want to tell you about my Border Incident. It was a slow day for the agent when I was crossing back. He pointed out that I didn't look like my passport picture. So I replied: "I shouldn't think so; I've lost 35 pounds." He said that he could stand to lose some weight. (He was pudgy.) So I told him that if he lost 35 pounds he wouldn't look like his picture either and besides his clothes wouldn't fit. Then he noted that I was born in Montreal. Where? His family came from there. We decided that we had lived within blocks of each other. Then I assured him that I didn't have guns, mace, weapons, fireworks, cigarettes, liquor and God knows what else, including merchandise for my business. Then, with a wave, I was off.
So I couldn't be an architect, perhaps a stewardess or a waitress, or a shop girl - but Miss Oswald suggested I take a vocational test. I did the test and went in for the results. It said that I should be a minister, but, as Miss Oswald told me, women cannot be ministers. As I was then an Anglican, she was right.
I am heading out of the country for a few days, to the US of A - without health insurance - pray for me.
I walk the streets of this town noticing the details in the buildings. I wanted to be an architect. I spent my childhood building things with minibricks. I wanted to take mechanical drawing in high school, but it was only for boys. And then Miss Oswald, the guidance counsellor informed me that girls could not be architects. So I learnt early on that girls could be teachers, nurses, secretaries, beauticians, mothers and ballerinas, and I certainly was not going to make it in the ballet department.
The little forced mayflower came to flower, and the scent is sublime. This is a sure sign of our early spring. The weather is turning cooler now, so farmers are worried that frost will bite the new growth. I live in a fruit growing region, so this is a real concern.
I like seeing cattle. I like their fuzzy ears and I really like it when they have their horns. Horses are a lovely sight. But my heart skips a beat or two when I see sheep. Maybe it is an ancestral memory. This is a mixed bunch of girls. I just had to stop and take their picture. A sound track of baas should go with them.
I could've been home gardening, digging delving and weeding and communing with Creation - but I had to go to a day long mandatory workshop. I blame God for this one. This is a church in New Glasgow, Nova Scotia.. It could be any where in Canada.
We had finished our meeting and stopped by the woods just before dusk to see how far along the mayflowers had come. Not far enough, it seems. Perhaps these two little springs will come into burst into bloom now that I have them in a little glass of water. The mayflower is our provincial flower. They have a special place in our Nova Scotian hearts.
Spring flowers, scillas growing in the grass just down the road: I love them. I remember vast swathes covering the side of Mount Royal in Montreal. They are just little flowers, but a multitude of them is a wonderful sight. This next picture comes from Sussex, New Brunswick where I lived last spring. My grandfather, who taught me to garden, called them "squills".
We bought this lily to celebrate the Feast of the Annunciation on March 25. It is always good to honour the divine feminine. When I returned to the house a week later the lily was still blooming, in fact it was better than before. So here's to Our Lady in whatever form she takes. And today being Easter - He is risen. He is risen, indeed.
I walked by the sundial in the garden at exactly noon, and the sundial was pretty accurate. It was in my grandfather's garden. As a child I was always checking the time and was disappointed when it was a cloudy day. It says the usual stuff like "Tempus fugit." Click it to enlarge it and see if you can read the dismal message around the edge.
We stopped by the Tangled Garden last Saturday. The garden was closed for the winter, but the shop, which serves products from the garden was open. This is their window from the inside, and this is their website: http://www.tangledgarden.ns.ca/garden.htm