You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September 2009.
I’m off on an adventure. I’ll fill you in on all the details when I get back. Talk to you in a couple of weeks.
Carrot harvest
I’m heading out of town in a couple of days so thought I’d better clean out most of the rest of my garden. I’ll keep the kale going. You can harvest kale from under the snow and it will still be good; kale is a miracle vegetable that way. But the carrots are now harvested as are the last of the onions. The cabbage and swiss chard are the only remaining veggies…I might take a chance and leave them in the ground too for now. I won’t be back until Thanksgiving week-end so I’m hoping the snow holds off until then, although there is fresh snow in the mountains these days so our snow-free days are numbered.
My friend Ted sent me this story. It comes on the heels of a series of conversations I’ve had recently with my oldest son, whose band is about to embark on a tour of B.C. and Alberta.
They have a fair number of gigs set up (none of which will pay much more than beer money), and none of the boys has much in the way of savings, so they’ll be sleeping in their van and scrounging for food. Alan has lately become fascinated by stories about dumpster diving and living on the fringe. He’ll read the Las Vegas story with keen interest.
I don’t mean to suggest that my son’s upcoming experience can be compared with the lives of people in the article. But there is a bit of that sense of ‘living on the edge’ , which I can see appeals to Alan. The reality of being on the road may prove to be rather less romantic than the vision currently in his head, but that’s all part of the journey. And while as a mom I worry about their safety, I can’t wait to see how they will be shaped by this adventure.
What a forlorn sight my two vegetable gardens are these days. Gone is the lovely cover of green from just a few weeks ago. Now only the swiss chard, kale, cabbages, carrots, and a few onions are left to commiserate with one another about their fallen comrades. The rest of the root vegetables – the beets, turnips and potatoes – have been moved to boxes in the garage where they silently await their own fate. The other veggies have long since been consumed or stashed in the freezer for a second coming in the dead of winter.
The greenhouse looks even more bare; only the stalwart oregano and mint remain. The last two tomatoes of the season are sitting on my counter with looks of resignation on their faces. They know all their family and friends have already been snacked on or turned into salsa.
The Taibhsearach Gardens
May 2009 – September 2009
May you rest in peace.
New garden - late May
Late June
Mid-July
Late July
Mid-August
Late August
Mid-September
I’m in fall cleaning mode; trying to get rid of some of our excess stuff, and my efforts have uncovered some rather interesting stories from the past.
Take this clock for instance, that’s been stored away since before we did our kitchen reno.
The story of this clock goes back to when I was a little girl. On very rare occasions, my father would take me for an ice-cream sundae at the local IGA store, which had a sit-at-the-counter restaurant that served light lunches and the like. On the wall in the restaurant was a clock like this one, and as a kid I never tired of watching the eyes and the tail move back and forth as the seconds ticked by.
The first time I went to Joe’s parents’ house, I was astonished to find the same kind of clock. I got very excited and told Joe’s mom my story. Several years later, she very kindly gave me her clock. Sadly, this one no longer works properly, but I’m going to see if it’s worth getting it fixed. Even though the eyes and tail move in jerky movements if at all, that clock still makes me smile every time I look at it.
The other thing I unearthed today was a four page letter from my mom that gave a history of the little red school house in the small rural community I grew up in. Both my grandmother and father attended that one-room school as students, and some years later my mother taught there. Mom cobbled together as much information about the school as she could, based on her own recollections and stories from various sources in the community. Here is an excerpt:
The teacher was supposed to build character, teach religiously the three Rs and keep order. Each morning the Flag Salute was to be given, O Canada was to be sung and the Lord’s Prayer repeated. Often a bible story was read by the teacher or an older pupil. The body as well as the mind must be exercised so ‘Physical Drill’ was given. Poetry was memorized. This was supposed to be good for the brain and also to lengthen the memory. Besides History and Geography, Nature Study was taught. In the fall and spring, there was the outing to gather flowers, learn their names and also to gather leaves and see some small animals.
Mom also talked in this letter about the pie sales that were held to raise money for books and school supplies. She recalled:
Pies were brought and auctioned off to the highest bidder. The girls salvaged pieces of ribbon, coloured paper and tinsel which was used to decorate the container for their pie. It was suppoed to be a closely guarded secret as to who made which pie but somehow when the bidding took place, each boy always managed to get that special girl’s pie. It was eaten there and sometimes a dance would follow.
Here’s what she wrote about my grandmother Glennie, who would have attended that school for several years in the late 1880s and the 1890s:
Each day there would be time to play outside. The boys liked to play ball, race, play tag and they got very sure footed by running along a pole fence which separated the school property from that of the neighbours. Most of the girls chose quieter, more lady like games, but there were two girls – Glennie and Trifosa — who decided this was too tame for them and they learned to run across the fence with as much agility as any of the boys. Long dresses were rather a deterrent but that didn’t stop Glennie. She simply pulled up her skirts and raced along. The other girls were very embarrassed and whispered, “She is showing her legs”, but Glennie just tossed her head and went on.
There’s also a story about my father Donald. She writes:
Two young boys Donald and Pat were kept apart most of the time because they usually caused a commotion. However one day they were sitting together at the back of the room copying some lessons. The teacher was busy at the front of the room putting a lesson on the board. Her back was to the pupils so Donald thought he would put on a show for his classmates. He sat up on the back of his seat with his hands and arms outstretched; then just as he thought the teacher was ready to turn around he would sit back down in his seat and write like mad. This happened several times when at last Pat reached over and gave Don a little push. There was a loud crash and all that could be seen was Donald’s feet sticking up in the air. Needless to say, those two boys didn’t get the chance to sit together again.
There’s lots more, including the story of one student who went on to raise horses (one fine pair of which was sent with the calvary to the Boer War) but you probably don’t find this nearly as interesting as I do so I’ll stop there. Gary and Roy, I’ll send you copies of the letter; the original should be kept in the family trunk.
I’ve just returned from a performance of Orpheus and Eurydice by the Compagnie Marie Chouinard from Montreal. I have to say I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. And one thing is for certain – this dance performance is definitely not for the prudish.
The story, for those of you who might not be up on your Greek mythology, centres around Orpheus – an amazing musician – and the wood nymph Eurydice. They fall madly in love. But on their wedding day, Eurydice is bitten by a snake and is sent to the Underworld. Orpheus of course goes after her. Using his gift of music, he manages to tame the three-headed monster who guards the gates of the Underworld and he convinces Hades to set Eurydice free. Hades agrees on one condition…that Orpheus not look back as he and Eurydice are returning to earth. At the last minute though he does look back, and in doing so loses Eurydice forever.
The dance performance opens with a nymph prancing onto a bare white stage. She is naked from the waist up except for gold pasties. All the dancers are dressed similarly. She produces a small gold bell from her mouth (a metaphor I am guessing for the power of language).
These golden bells re-appear throughout the piece as Chouinard’s dancers express themselves verbally and otherwise. They make guttural, moaning, shrieking noises. When they do actually speak in sentences, it’s done in a slow laborious way. At other times during the performance they hold their mouths wide open in a silent scream or appear to be pulling long strings of words from their mouths like snakes. In fact snakes are used many times in this performance in lots of very clever ways. My favourite part was when rubber snakes actually were coming out of their mouths and were writhing with the help of invisible string.
There’s no shortage of sex either. At one point, some of the dancers come out on stage wearing platform heels and very large, erect phalluses and then proceed to partake in a gleeful orgy.
At one point Eurydice climbs over the seats in the audience, while those still on stage warn us not to look back at her.
Yes, it was quite a ride. But they were amazing dancers and I am glad to have had a chance to see them. If you go to this Yukon Arts Centre page and click on the black box you can watch a short clip of them.
What do you think of this? And here’s the project’s web site.
This week I set free a genie and she granted me three wishes!
Genie: What is your first wish?
Janet: Well Genie, Joe and I are feeling rather dismayed by the fact that our freezer is noticeably lacking in wild meat. Yes, he did get a caribou early in August, but much of that went to the elder he hunts for. His fishing trip to Valdez, Alaska yielded all of three salmon, and a moose hasn’t found its way into our freezer either. So a bit more meat for this winter would be terrific Genie, if you can swing it.
Genie: Your wish shall be granted.
And it was! A hunter friend of ours called yesterday to say he had more meat than he needed and he wanted to give us half a caribou!
Janet: Wow Genie, that was pretty impressive!
Genie: Pshaw, it was nothing. What is your second wish?
Janet: Well, you know how much I love to do canning and pickling? The problem is my stash of jars is just about gone. I can’t seem to find any in town. Do you think you can help me with that?
Genie: Your wish shall be granted.
And it was!! I went to pick up Alan today from work at the Recycling Centre and someone had dropped off dozens and dozens of canning jars – most of them the wide mouthed kind that I like best. I took some for myself and several more for a friend who also likes to can.
Janet: Thank you Genie. You are unbelievable!
Genie: No problem. What is your third wish?
Janet: Well, you know how I like to dry my clothes on the line instead of using the clothes dryer? In the winter of course I dry my clothes inside. But remember last winter, my wooden clothes-drying rack broke? I sure wish I could find another one of those.
Genie: No worries. Your wish shall be granted.
And it was!!! As I was picking up those canning jars I noticed that someone had brought in a near new condition wooden clothes-drying rack. It was exactly what I was looking for, and like the canning jars, it was free!
Janet: Genie, I don’t know what to say. You are unbelievable! How will I ever be able to repay you?
Genie: I take my dinner at six, I like my pickles spicy, and my pile of dirty clothes is right over there.
This has been around for some time, but I’m posting it for those of you who haven’t seen it before. My favourite part is when the first old lady touches his face after hugging him. It’s just such a sweet gesture.
I’m not a gadget kind of person. In fact over the last couple of years I’ve worked to get rid of all those kitchen gadgets that were languishing unused at the back of my kitchen cupboards. But today I received something that I am quite tickled with.
It’s called a butter bell and it’s a tool that was first used in France at a time before electricity and refrigeration. The idea is to put some softened butter into a cup, and then invert that cup and put it inside a larger cup that contains a small amount of cold water. This creates a seal and keeps the butter soft but fresh for weeks. All you have to do is change the water every few days.
Pretty clever, mais oui?
Excuse my plum stained fingernails!
Voila. Butter that's soft but not rancid.
