Spring Puttering

"Nothing is so beautiful as Spring

     When weeds, in wheels, shoot long and lovely and lush...

    The glassy peartree leaves and blooms, they brush

    The descending blue; that blue is all in a rush

With richness; the racing lambs too have fair their fling."

                                                                                                   Gerard Manley Hopkins

Spring is not my favourite time of year. I enjoy each one of the seasons, but Spring is too capricious and moody: one day smiling with sun, the next sullen with a chill wind that drives like a knife. Still, I cannot deny the absolute delight of seeing green shoots and flowers emerge from the brown earth. Blossoms in the rain are as equally beautiful as those in the sun. 

All the fresh newness outdoors inspires me indoors to putter. I looked up the meaning of the word today:

...to busy or occupy oneself in a leisurely, casual, or ineffective manner

Today I've been puttering. It's been leisurely and casual, but I hope not ineffective. 

Puttering goes alongside housecleaning for me. The house hasn't been dusted since before I left for Mexico. Taking everything off of mantels and tabletops in order to dust is a perfect opportunity to put things back in new ways. Above is the result of the living room mantel putter. 

The kitchen mantel is narrower and I have a hard time finding things to fit. I've been craving greenery and need to replace some of my houseplants. Today I went out into the garden and clipped whatever I could stick into water - rosebush leaves, trailing vinca, and a cornflower getting ready to bloom. The light is rather dull today with grey skies threatening rain and the clear glass with greenery brightens things a little. 

You might remember my "Her Ladyship" mug I received for Christmas. For Tim's birthday last month, I looked for the matching "His Lordship" mug, but Murchie's said they didn't have any more. 
What to do?
I spied the Chauffeur mug and since he usually drives when it's the two of us, I purchased it. He thinks it's quite funny. And I confess to thinking about Lady Sybil and Branson in Downton Abbey! 

I finished reading The Nightingale on our short trip last week, and re-read the ending again this week. It's the story of two sisters in France, during World War II. A lovely, sometimes heart-wrenching story. 

Before I left on my long trip last month, I went outside to take a photo of the back of the house (bottom left). Tim was planning to do some major puttering while I was gone. He replaced the sliding glass doors with a single door with a large window, and installed a new window in that blank wall to the left. This is all part of the ongoing kitchen renovation that is going to take years rather than months. The fireplace was the first step. The window and door are the second. 

There is still finish work to do around the inside of the door and window and that is being worked on in his free time. As well, we will paint the outside once it's warm enough. This project has made a huge difference in the amount of light in what was rather a dark room. I like having the table right up against the window.

There used to be a white lattice railing around the deck, but that was removed last fall. The new deck is in Tim's shop, waiting for a stretch of good weather for installation. After that there will likely be a long hiatus in renovations. 

It's been good to get back to home cooking again. Since halibut is in season, I pan roasted a filet and served it over roasted tomatoes from our garden (roasted and frozen last summer), with sauteed kale picked fresh from the plants that are bursting with green leafiness. 

Yesterday morning, while sitting at the table by the window, I spied a flash of colour in the lemon balm stalks that need to be cut down. This Finch, probably a House Finch, stayed long enough for me to change the lens on my camera and take quite a few shots. There must have been something delicious on those dry stalks.

Speaking of the seasons, Gladys Tabor writes, "Who can say which is the most beautiful? Each has its own charm, each bestows its own blessing, and we welcome each in turn...There is a security in knowing that spring follows winter and summer comes after spring...I wish all my friends, everywhere, the joy and sweetness of spring." 

Whether you are reading this in the midst of a late snowstorm, or perhaps in early autumn in the southern hemisphere, I wish you joy.

Linking to Mosaic Monday, hosted by Maggie of Normandy Life.  

Five on Friday

"There's nothing like staying at home for real comfort" (Jane Austen)

There was some discussion about a trip during spring break. In the end, we decided to stay home. Tim is taking this week off work as he has some vacation days to use up. Here are some things I've been thinking about this week.

I'm realizing how much fun it can be to stay home. We're accomplishing necessary chores around the house and yard, and taking time for outings (such as our trip to Botanical Beach, and to Butchart Gardens).

I'm enjoying the delight of puttering. Filling a sink full of hot soapy water, plunging dishes and ornaments under the bubbles and washing away the grime yields a fresh appearance to things on display. Then there's the fun of rearranging. 

I'm thinking, thankfully, that there's still a creative spark in my soul. I wondered if perhaps my creative mojo had disappeared into just looking and not doing. Not so. But I'm also realizing that I have only so much energy and time, and teaching means that most of those two commodities are expended in school-related work.

I've admired moss wreaths for awhile and this week I made one. I bought the square wire frame, lined it with a plastic bag cut into strips, filled it with a little dirt and then collected moss from the stone retaining walls and shady garden patches. I wrapped clear fishing line around the wreath to hold all the moss in place. For now I've tucked in a few branches of forsythia, but I'm planning to get a few faux flowers. A quick and satisfying project.

I'm thinking about the restorative powers of nature. After our day trip to the west coast yesterday, I slept like a baby, although I did have waves crashing in for awhile before falling asleep. The Stellar's Jay above watched us carefully while we snacked at a picnic table before driving home. His feathers are all fluffed up because of the cold. I just love his colours and coincidentally, they reflect much of what's in my own closet. Blue. Grey. Black.

I'm thinking about Easter next weekend and I've set out a few things like this trio of ceramic eggs from Ecuador, given to me by a good friend many years ago.

Linking to Five on Friday hosted by Amy of Love Made My Home.  

Making Progress

"Up the stairs go the bears, up, up, up. Step by step, step by step, up, up, up." I sing this little ditty with my grandchildren as we climb 10 steps up, turn and climb 4 more. It's a memory of my own childhood - a song/story 45rpm recording of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. The little misses have caught the tune and often sing it with me. Mr. F will learn it, too.

Along the long wall upwards there are three wedding portraits of our children. At the head of the stairs I've started a gallery wall of family photos. Some professionally taken, others casual snapshots. I love looking at them as I climb up or down the stairs. When I took everything down to paint the hall a couple of months ago, I determined not to rehang the photos until I had painted them. Some of the frames were naturally finished wood (made by Tim in Ecuador), until this week. I've had them laid out on the newspaper covered countertop and gave them a swipe of white paint several times. Today I finally cleaned the glass and hung the photos. One project more or less completed.
 

Finish number two - this shirt. It would look best on a person, but no person was nearby for modeling it. The fabric is a lovely soft printed lawn, just right for cooler days or as a loose cover-up over a t-shirt. I made it strictly according to the pattern, to determine exactly how I adjust for my own shape. I knew it probably wouldn't fit, and although it does, the next version will have some adjustments. This version will go to my younger daughter.  I'm happy with the way it turned out - flat felled seams, cuffs, collar and band. Can't wait to start my own.
 

Tim made this wonderful armoire/television cabinet 8 years ago. Since then we've purchased a flat screen tv that doesn't fit. The bottom now houses our printer/copier. The top is empty for now, but he's planning to fit it with shelves and I'll use it to store table linens.
 

For a minute there I couldn't remember why I was including the armoire. Scary. Oh, yes - I changed the stuff on top. A large hand-painted Italian platter bought in Quito, a French flowershop pot, a cake stand (also made by Tim) and a plant. Nothing new, but new to this space. I so love puttering with the things I already own. I don't need new stuff, that's for certain. But I like rotating displays, do you?
 

And a flower. We really can't have a post without a flower at this time of year. A wild rose growing on one of the islands we visited last week. Wild roses always make me think of the way Anne of Green Gables decorated the tea table for the minister and his wife - all ferns and wild roses.

It feels good to finish a few things. Are you a start-something-and-finish-it-before-starting-something-new kind of person or a million-things-on-the-go kind of person? I'm the latter, but I wish I were the former.

Piles of Little Things

This week's activity has been concentrated around getting things finished. Little things, like "just-get-the-buttonholes-done-and-you'll-have-something-finished." My mother first sewed on an old Singer machine. I made a skirt with that machine and probably some other things, but then she brought home a lovely, modern Bernina machine, similar to the one above. I sewed a lot with that machine. Mom still has it but she sews quilts now, not clothing. So last time we were in Chilliwack I asked if I could have the old buttonhole attachment. You can see the green case behind the machine above and the contraption afixed to the pressure foot. It makes the best buttonholes. Thanks to my consuegros (parents of a son-in-law), I have a Bernina as well. It stitches so evenly. I still use my Husqvarna for everyday sewing, but for buttonholes - it's the Bernina. 

I've painted shelves and picture frames, filled some holes in the wall and will paint them, weeded the garden, and sewed, trying to finish projects that have sat, neglected, for too long. Not much to show for all my efforts yet, but I'm hopeful. 

Peonies are slowly opening outside. I picked a few fat buds to sit on the mantel and watched them open. Such lush flowers. 

I'd planned to putter some more today, but a call last night had me scurrying to organize myself - instead of sewing I'll be discussing the French Revolution, Romeo and Juliet, and All Quiet on the Western Front with various classes. Some of my favourite history and literature. 

Catch you all later this afternoon.

Clean and Bright

While thinking of a title for this post, the words from the song Edelweiss from The Sound of Music came to mind. The flowers above are hyacinths, not edelweiss, but you get my drift. Yesterday was taking down, today was putting back together. 

No sun shone today. The sky dripped grey off and on. Dismal. These photos were taken at 2:00 pm, when one would assume the light is as bright as it's going to get. I turned on the lights and lit the candles, yet still the shadows lurk and photos are grainy. We must make our own light at this time of year. I spent a happy couple of hours tidying up, puttering, and pulling together things from various parts of the house to complete this mantel. The clippings of rosemary and sage are from a quick foray into the garden in between raindrops. 

Have you been puttering lately, or are you into full-speed ahead mode? 

A Garden Visit

August sped by without a visit to Butchart Gardens, and I wasn't going to let September go the same. This morning, clouds covered the sky. Rain is in the forecast for the weekend. I decided to make the most of the moment and go.
 

 

There was a lot of summer colour left, and the vanilla scent of heliotrope wafted upwards. The Rose Garden, not as lush as in June, still had blossoms a-plenty. 

 

But the move to autumn has begun. Leaves are sparse on some trees, others are coloured.
 

Some borders have been planted with warm-toned mums and others blooms, like the orange above.

 

The structure of the garden is beginning to show through the thinning foliage. Even a flower's seed head has an elegant beauty.
 

But my favourite flower of the visit - this pretty pink rose dangling down from an archway. Carefree, she seems to say, "Autumn's coming and that's just fine!"

To make up for my outing this morning, I'll be finishing up the laundry, cleaning bathrooms, dusting, vacuuming and making soup. And I think there will be a little autumn decor inserted here and there. Happy Friday to you.