Back again

            Spare time, whatever that is, has not been a part of my life for some time. That would explain why I have been so negligent at posting to my blog. The trunk of my car is ever ready with stock to unload at craft markets (Christmas is coming) and between markets, I’ve been promoting child sponsorships for World Vision, writing press releases and singing with the West Ottawa Ladies Chorus (Christmas is coming) and traveling down the road to visit my relatives. Not only have I neglected my blog, but my writing as well. Today, I vow to devote at least two hours a day to writing. Well, doing press releases is writing, isn’t it?

            My novel is ready to go to press but finding a publisher and/or agent is frustrating and time consuming, believe me, I have tried. I have decided to self-publish with intensions of hitting the ebook market. Through Kickstarter, I have undertaken to try and find people who might be interested in investing in my new and first novel. Frankly, it is a donation however it is a way to be involved in launching a new venture. Writing a novel takes hours and hours of work and over a period of years, I have invested creativity, time (over two years) and money for editing and proof reading. So shamelessly, I have reached out to try and interest supporters. To view my project go to:  https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1480403550/when-secrets-become-lies 

            Sometimes one has the opportunity to be among a group of amazing people. Yesterday, I gave a workshop on writing memoirs at the North Grenville library. What a dynamic group I had! They were attentive, asked great questions and bonded with each other. When I give a workshop, I’m always intrigued by the wealth of personal experiences and stories waiting to be written. To all at the workshop – get writing, your stories need to be preserved.

            

Mornings

Some mornings you wake up and the world invites you to a new and exciting day and sometimes you have to force yourself to ease one leg after the other out from beneath the covers. This week has been a combination of both. The coldest summer week ever recorded for this area was not only damp, grey and cold but a catalyst for dampening one’s spirits as well. Every joint in my body has been complaining and I’ve even had to light the fire to take the chill off my usually cozy room. But this morning sunshine beamed in the window and promise of a warmer day has me planning to clean and mow.

   Regardless of the weather I am fortunate that in this active household there is always something to amuse or entertain me. One would be the newest member of our family a grey tabby cat—barely beyond kitten stage. I have a bird feeder right outside my window and watching small, big, colourful, drab feathered creatures arrive, eat and leave is one of my small pleasures. I have one I call The Phantom—it is a grackle but one with character. One side of its face is off-white! The Doctor, the cat, (named by the children as per Doctor Who) is poorly named and should be known as The Hunter. She is a great catcher of mice. However, she has not quite reasoned the concept that there is a pane of glass between her and the feeder. At least once a week out of the corner of my eye, I spot her slinking along the tiles, ears tight to her skull eyeing birds at the feeder. Slowly she lifts one foot after the other along the floor careful to get onto the sofa out of the sight of her prey. I watch with a smile as she stalks, her fur dancing as her body quivers in anticipation. Then WHAM she attacks and bangs right into the glass. The blue jays have figured this out and I’m sure they are smiling too.

   This morning was so cold my regular visitor to the pond, a great blue heron, was hunkered down shivering. All I can say is I’m happy I have fleecy slipper to keep my feet warm.

The Year of the Snake

Not that I actually want it this way, but my days are filled with lazy hours spent lounging in the garden room devouring books—slim books, thick books, good and bad books. I’m not lazy—just lazing after I’ve finished searching the employment ads, sent my resume to anything that sounds like I could do it, put on my running shoes and power-walked miles, puttered in the garden, harvested the crop and prepped packages for the freezer, made sure the house was presentable (me too) and planned my meals. I know this seems like a lot but I am usually ready to recline by early afternoon—book in hand. I know, I know—I should be writing and you’re right but the chaise and stories call and it is summer after all.

I do write and have received confirmation that another of my pieces has been chosen for a new edition of Chicken Soup for the Soul. This makes four now! I Can’t Believe My Dog Did That will be launched August 19 and I will follow suit on the 23^rd. Which brings up another topic—I have decided to rent space at the North Gower Farmers Market from August through to October 11. I will be selling (at least that’s the plan) my books, including Chicken Soup ones, and canvas prints of my photos. I will do my book launch there—check out their web site to find what time. Right now, I have the display of my photos set up in the office and getting reactions wherever and whenever I can—so far so good. So if you live within distance come out to the market and say “hey”.

Since it is the year of the snake I thought you might enjoy seeing one of my visitors to the garden - see him?

Finding treasures

Clever me ducked out between rain showers and headed off for my morning hike on Monday. There was am soft gentle breeze that turned into, what my mother called, an English mist then without warning about 10 minutes from home, the heavens opened and I was soaked from top to bottom. I arrived back at the farm house to see my son-in-law racing for the house in the same wet condition. Ah well, it’s only water. Because it was cloudy and grey, my camera was not with me. Of course, I spotted two new species of new wild flowers so yesterday morning, camera slung around my neck, I headed off with purpose.

            So here’s the thing—when you’re out in the desert chasing wild flowers and nature calls, you simply tuck behind a scruffy monkey tree and take care of business. When you are in Eastern Ontario nature still makes her demands (especially when I drink several cups of coffee in the morning)—so one ducks into the dense bush and does the balancing act stance while holding the crotch of your jeans at a safe distance to remain dry and at the same time swat insistent mosquitoes attacking an exposed butt. Oh yes, I’m scratching. But I did get some great photos—not of my butt—flowers. The yellow orchids had exploded and waved their curly banners above glossy bulbs AND I found water iris along the road. I have seen them in the forest but never on the roadway. The forest trail is still under water from incessant rain storms so impassable for walking. So you can well imagine how delighted I was to find this treat yesterday. Exotic, aren’t they?

The service berry and buckthorn were also in bloom so I was able to capture some decent shots of them.

            I have undertaken to deal with some of my vast storage of photographs and slides from a different era (thanks to digital they no longer collect in boxes on shelves). I threw away hundreds, had a few good chuckles, shed tears to see lost friends and pets and found memories I had long forgotten. My intent is to compile a memory book for my oldest boy who turned 50 this year. Can you imagine? So for the next week or so, I will be converting a collection of pictures to digital.

Wonders of Spring

Warm sunny days, mixed with sudden downpours, have returned the curl to my hair. With that exception, the humidity is definitely not my best friend but the gardens are loving it—lettuce up, spinach peeking through, zucchini sprouting and rhubarb ready for picking. I am eating tons of asparagus, cooked and raw, and giving away as much as I’m eating. It’s amazing how many spears one plant produces. Having successfully thwarted the garden gobbling, free range chickens, I am looking forward to a steady supply of fresh veggies all summer. They, the chickens, however, have turned their attention to my hostas that are now in shreds.

The roadside is alive with blooms and the wild and tame apple trees are glorious in full blossom. The air is sweet with their scent and the lilacs are making ready to overpower them. I don’t have miles of desert trails to hike but do manage to power-walk every morning trying to maintain the muscle and increased breathing gained over the winter. Every day brings new surprises as I see new wild flowers, false Solomon Seal, yellow orchids and a few I have to get out the books to identify. A very social cardinal usually greets me half-way along and calls to me while it keeps me company always careful to hide deep in the foliage of the trees. I do catch glimpses of him as he flits from tree to tree. We carry on quite the conversations.

My birdfeeder is busy with wrens, sparrows, chickadees, junkos, blue jays and the odd woodpecker. Our kitten—the great hunter—slyly creeps across the floor, leaps on the couch with her tail twitching and attacks the window, always optimistic that she will have bird for dessert. Since she is not allowed outside, I doubt it!

As I ease into a daily routine again, I find I need more to occupy my time and mind. I am, however, reading voraciously and enjoying watching the ducks on the pond as I lounge on the settee in my garden room. Life is good.

A Lot Happens in a Week

The roads behind me, I arrived back in Ottawa after a grueling trip to warm greetings, bare trees and frosted windshields in the mornings—but the sun was shining and the temperatures very acceptable. Sometimes, you just know when a friend is special—I called one of my dearest my first day home and told her I was putting away the cleaning tools for the day and having a glass of wine—would she join me. “Mmm, let’s see.” She said. “I’ll check my list. Oh, right here at the top it says go have a glass of wine with Molly.” Gotta love that kind of friendship!

Within a few days the temperatures soared, the trees burst into leaf and wild flowers waved their pretty heads. Trilliums, dog-toothed violets, white and purple violets, bellwort and dandelions are glowing white and yellow against the deep green foliage. Of course, I interrupted my power walks to take photos.

I had to mow the lawn! All within seven days—nature sure can take charge when she wants.

After spending the week getting the house spitted and polished, I tackled the garden yesterday, one of them anyway—the veggie garden. I am pleased to say that my walking and swimming regimen in Arizona left me in good shape and I am not suffering too much from digging and bending in the dark rich soil (such a contrast to the red sand of the desert). One of my first delights of spring is enjoying the sweet taste of asparagus—I did last night—oh, what a delicious treat. Tomorrow, I will be able to pick rhubarb for my morning fruit salad. Life is good.

Final days in Arizona

Ah, I count the hours until my old Buick and I head north east. The past four months have been above and beyond special. I have hiked, been feted and entertained. Sadly, I have written little but lots of ideas are floating through my small brain. I’m thinking another short-story book. One of the interesting things about desert flowers (you do know that photographing wild flowers is my passion) that each year different ones bloom. It has been an unusually dry year so we expected fewer flowers—not so—there were many of our old friends but many we had never seen before. I was not aware that sage had such an incredible blossom.

My walking buddy, and I may add, my photographer buddy, and I treated ourselves to a slide show of each other’s pictures this morning. Tonight we are going up the mountain to Jerome to First Night—I want to be tired so I sleep and am well rested for the morning ahead. Besides, what better way to end my stay than touring galleries in the jewel of the desert. Ah, such delightful memories.

I shall miss my old friends and the new ones I met this trip. The road trip home will be long but the weather looks promising so if the car behaves itself, it should be a good trip. My fingers are crossed that there is little road construction.

Last night, I pulled into the garage after choir’s dress rehearsal, grabbed a glass of wine and went outside to say goodbye to the stars. The big dipper hung right over the house, each star brilliant and sparkling. Tonight, I’ll lift a glass again and bid farewell to the valley.

Sun and friends

The days are slipping away and it is near time to drag the suitcases out of the closet and stuff them with my belongings. Still have a week before me that is jamb-packed with activities. Last week, I had the opportunity to spend time at an unbelievable ranch that was once owned by the owner of the RAMS, Georgia Frontiere. She was an opera buff so built her own opera theater and since she had many guests—a hotel. She died 8 years ago and no one has lived in the house since. It is hard for me to equate to such opulence.

Yesterday, it rained—the first since I arrived 4 months ago. It did rain one day in Sedona but not here in good old Cornville. However, my planning was impeccable as I was going to be at the opera any way. Thursday Jessica and I headed out to our favourite haunt on the creek in Page Springs and stuffed ourselves with fish-and-chips washed down with an amber ale—Yum.

I spent an unusual Easter Sunday. Invited to join an eclectic group of people to celebrate, the common thread was we all had some Polish blood. As you might imagine, the food ranged from cabbage rolls to ham to an array of sweets to temp a saint. The Rabbi (female) gave the blessing, a retired nun sang a chant and I sat with an Episcopalian minister and there was nothing religious about the gathering. One elegant and charming elder (well into he 90’s), was a Holocaust survivor. The conversations were lively and full of fun. I was honoured to meet one of the original team who went to Africa to try and find a cure for HIV and as a result did produce one of the early medications.

Each day brings new and delightful experiences into my life, even if it is sitting reading in the sun watching the hummingbirds and finches in the backyard. As my time here draws to a close, I search for yet another bloom to capture. One of my favourites is the sage blossom.

Leaving is somewhat like arriving. I am being fetted and spoiled all over again. There is no doubt, I will be sent home well fortified with delicious food.

Spring in the desert

Perfection comes each day—I wake up to glorious skies and warm weather. Every climate has its seasons though and this is springtime in the desert, a time when delicate flowers appear everywhere. When I look at the stark, dry sand strewn with rocks, I never cease to wonder how such beauty can survive here. Yet every walk reveals more and more varieties, splashes of colour that catch my eye. Of course, my camera is slung around my neck and I greet each perfect blossom with “oohs” and “ahs” then digitally capture them for my forever pleasure. One of the most delicate and, an unusually large flower for the desert, is the Desert Primrose. In past years I would thrill to find a few but this year they are in profusion creating carpets of white

Even perfection has its awkward moments and mine seems always to involve my car. Yep, I backed over a rock and shoved my tailpipe back. The local mechanics look forward to my regular visits!

Each day is filled—yesterday I walked for over an hour at one of my favourite places, rushed home, had lunch then joined three others to climb white cliffs outside Camp Verde to investigate some old ruins. It was probably not the smartest thing to do as the temperatures soared to 90 degrees (but there was a constant breeze). Three of us made it to the top and crawled through the ruins in awe, knowing we were in the homes of natives who had walled in these caves and lived there 1400 years ago (nothing deteriorates in the desert). We were high up, the valley spread before us, and the panorama was spectacular. We returned to Cottonwood where a friend had prepared a dinner of burritos and good wine. Oh, that was not the end of our day—three of us went into Sedona to a lecture on art history. My days are full!

Desert days

How sorry I feel for my friends and family who have been enduring one of the worst winters ever up north. I, on the contrary made one really good decision to escape and find a situation in a warm climate. It has been trying and rewarding at the same time.

When I first arrived, I had already dealt with car issues on the road and found myself in less-than-ideal living conditions. Mind you it was clean but just not to my liking. A little research brought me to meet a lovely lady and her two dogs—I moved in with her in late January. I think I can safely say we are enjoying each others company.

Each day starts with a desert walk. At first I gasped and floundered through a 2-mile hike, short of breath and sore of limb. Oh, I was in really rough shape. Now I head off with my walking buddies and before we know it we have covered 4.6 miles in less than an hour and a half. I can see the old body firming up.

Since early January we have had only one day of rain (much needed) and my wonderful gods brought it on the days that I was enjoying the film festival so I was inside anyway!

AND the rain soaked the earth so now everything is exploding in bloom and leaf.

Every year I’ve been here I promise myself I will photograph a specific magnificent magnolia tree in bloom. The problem is they burst into bloom then immediately start dropping the blossoms so the opportunity only presents itself for 1-2 days. Two days ago, I noticed it was in bloom. I nearly procrastinated again but made the effort yesterday and as well I did. Half of the blossoms had already fallen.

I am enjoying jazz, operas, movies, friends and GLORIOUS weather. Life is good.

You have winter blaahs? I have winter Hahas

You have winter blaahs-I have winter haas

            Excluding one week of clouds and lower temperatures my time in Arizona is filled with joyous happenings. A rather iffy start has turned around and I am looking forward to every day. My car decided to give me issues—not once but twice eating into my strict budget and my accommodation was less than desirable mainly because, even though I asked, there were smokers there. Anyone who knows me well knows that I am more than sensitive to smoke. I found a new home-away-from-home exactly where I wanted and am sharing a lovely home with a delightful lady and two well-behaved dogs. Life is good.

Every morning starts with leisurely coffee and a bit of writing then I head off with friends to hike for an hour or two—have been averaging 3.5 miles a day. I am well entrenched with the Verde Valley Voices yet again and am involved with two writing groups. I am looking forward to volunteering at the Sedona International Film Festival.

            I am intent on making definite strides with my novel and hope to have the draft completed of another. But life gets in the way as invitations to movies, other activities and dinners do delight me. Yesterday, I reveled in enjoying my favourite composer Anton Dvorak with my favourite opera soprano, Renee Fleming in Rusalka—it was a day in paradise. This afternoon, I am going to a performance of Dave Brubeck then dinner with great friends before I snuggle down to watch Downton Abbey. Oh, Happy me!

A new year and a long grey road

After 3 days of rather nerve wracking driving, I arrived safe and weary in Arizona. My route differed this time as I headed along the 401 to Guelph to drop off my grandson at university. My car started acting strange, not accelerating properly. We assumed it was ice in the gas line as we left Ottawa area in -28 degree temperatures. However, it did not improve and I discovered that the cruise control was malfunctioning so then assumed the problem was related to that. I made it to Lima, north of Dayton Ohio that evening and because the weather warnings were straight across the route I usually take, I decided to err on the side of safety and followed the I75 south to Tennessee adding at least 3 hours to my drive time. It was a wise decision. The weather did deteriorate but fortunatley into rain squalls (nasty ones) not snow and ice. My car started to really give me concern as it was still not accelerating properly and was drinking gas like a delicious cocktail. Of course being Sunday no service stations were open. I limped into Jackson, Tennessee and had a very restless night as I saw dollars flying away at a mechanic's.

A local mechanic discovered it was the catalytic converter. I was in and out in two hours all repaired. The service was extraordinary and the price was reasonable.. By now, the weather and car repair set me back by 6-7 hours but because it was still early in the day when I got to Albuquerque, I decided to carry on as I knew the roads well and they were clear and dry (many a time I have driven that leg in very nasty weather). I arrived in after 12 hours of driving. Ask me if I was pooped!

Now a week later, I have settled in and am falling into a routine of rising early, writing for several hours, walking for an hour or so on the range then after a good hot shower and lunch snuggle into the settee on the patio with a good book. I vowed that my winter would produce some decent writing and get my novel ready to publish. If all goes well, I hope to have a rough draft of my second done.

Old friends have wrapped their arms around me and welcomed me back into the fold. This morning, I slung my camera around my neck and heading up the mountain for a brisk walk watching the play of light on dried flowers and seeds looking for that perfect shot.