Maritime Finds

David and I just returned from a week in the Maritimes (east coast of Canada, where my parents have always resided), where we attended the burial of my father.  He died in March, but there was a lot of snow at the time, so they bury the dead in the spring instead (caskets are stored in a cold vault in the meantime) once the snow is gone and the ground is thawed out.  

The burial service was lovely and hard at the same time, but begins to provide some closure. 

My mother selected a lovely burial plot high on a hill, adjacent to a white fence in a cemetery near her home.  It is a very idyllic and would have made Dad very happy as it sits high on a hill not far from a river in which he loved to fish.  Mom and I also went shopping for headstones and purchased a lovely, classic one which will be used for her and Dad.  Death is a very strange thing, and the exercise of burying a loved one and buying a headstone is both a sombre and strangely humourous affair.  We shall all end up in the same place after all, and I can only hope I am so lovingly discharged from the planet as Dad was. 

After we bought the headstone (which cost a small fortune, by the way), we wandered over to a great little antique shop in Fredericton, called Old Tyme Antiques & Collectibles (on Main Street, north side).  I loved puttering around in there and chatting with the sweet shopkeeper, a lovely and witty man from the french east coast of New Brunswick.

I spied lots of treasures, but finally decided on this old hand-painted photograph from the 1920's, which depicts a light house in Maine (we reckon, as the inscription reads "Portland Head Light" by a photographer called Burrowes).

We also found a more recent (1940's) hand-painted photograph of Castle Mountain, in the Canadian Rockies, which is about 1 hour from our home in Calgary.  So we had to bring that home to its rightful region of Canada!  

While we were "home", David and I did a couple of drives around the nearby countryside, as I like to play tour guide.  Here are a couple of pretty shots from the South Road, a pretty country road in my town.  All the crabapple trees were in bloom. 

Besides the little barn tour, we also did a cemetery tour of some of the older sites in town.  I was delighted to see great swaths of pretty violets (New Brunswick's provincial flower) in one of the old burial gronds:

We also went out picking fiddleheads along the river in front of my mother's house, here:

Fiddleheads grown best in riparian (river's edge) areas that are flood plains and a little marshy.  This patch had been already picked over (they are cut off the plant just as they emerge from the ground before becoming a full-size fern, the Ostrich Fern) but we found new shoots coming up each day:

Across the river is a beautiful rock wall:

Oh, and I didn't mention that whilst fiddleheading, I sprained my ankle badly (a second degree sprain, meaning I ripped the heck out of my ligaments) early in the week. After lots of ice, and an x-ray, I had to hobble around on crutches in an air brace for the rest of the week.  I am still in a Tensor bandage and have been icing as its still swollen and bruised.  P.S. I got a lot of sympathy with my crutches, so I highly recommend them if you are feeling blue and want some attention...

And last but not least, we also managed to get some lobster after a short drive to the coast.  The lobster in the foreground was mine - look at his big claw!  David had to crack it for me!  Sorry I didn't spend much time styling the photo - my butter was getting cold!

Also on the cemetery tour, I came across the grave of one of my great-grandfathers and snapped this shot:My home town is full of churches of all denominations but here is one of my favorites, the United Church in a nearby town on a stormy evening: 

After that totally mad week, which was full of ups and downs, I am ready for a break before heading back to work Monday.  In fact, I could use a week off after my week off.  But I don't think I will get one. Besides house work, I have to plant my annuals tomorrow... if my busted ankle holds up. 

And we have to find a spot for our new rose bush, shown here inside our potting shed:

It has the prettiest big pink roses with a gentle, sweet scent, but I know nothing about keeping roses.  Any tips (besides water and sunlight)?  It is hardy to Zone 3, so should survive our miserable winters.  

Hope you have enjoyed your visit.  Sorry I am not posting much...have been much too busy with work, my new book club, gardening, investments, and trying to do some career development. I do hope to take on a number of decorating projects this summer, so stay tuned...

Lessons from Home

My parents' house in the trees, viewed from the river.


Our neighbour's house and barns, easier to see!

I've returned from my 3-week exodus to the east coast and I'm settling back into life here in Calgary. I've been thinking a lot about what makes "home" and that definition is different for each of us. For me, home is where my mother is, the small town where my roots are, the family and friends that surrounds me there.

I have been "away" from home for 20 years, and it never gets any easier to leave when I visit there. David and I have a lovely home here too, with a house which is a work in progress, and careers that are in transition. But this place still doesn't feel like home. All my prized possessions are here, but my people are not. Luckily I have David, who makes this the closest thing to a "home away from home" for me.

I have been struggling with my identity for a while now. I am unhappy with my career and don't have a lot of friends here in Calgary. I think that plays a huge part in making my life feel unrooted here. We are blessed to have David's family nearby, but since we don't have any children, this still hasn't become my "forever" home. When will it? I wonder if I had a job I love and children if this would become home? Is home identified with place, or a certain person, or both of those things? Is it a feeling and if so what feeling...security, comfort, a groundedness that can never be taken away from you?

I have many things to tell you about home and about my wonderful people and about other small things like blueberries and walks along the river and about what really makes life good.

Soon, Terri xoxo