Vintage Poop And Victorian Ladies

This lovely is an Autumn Fern, and I actually sat there this morning sipping the rich brew from my French Press, gazing at it for a good 15 minutes, mesmerized at how the light touches its beautiful bronze fronds in the morning light. Had to share. Ah, details are what has me out there for hours on end, watching, taking big breaths of pleasure, at … Continue reading Vintage Poop And Victorian Ladies

That Twisted Creeper I Adore

This will be my 4th summer here in this little in-between woodland garden. Amongst the ferns and hostas, the new coral bells, the Creeping Jenny, the Lily-of-the-Valley, and the wild Geranium, there creeps and twists this vine. And each year I have gently guided that Parthenocissus quinquefolia to suit. Encouraging it along the arch of my little woodsy arbour that leads out into the big … Continue reading That Twisted Creeper I Adore

The Path Into The Light Seems Dark

Never could wrap my head around eastern philosophy, not entirely. Our Anglicanness {read Grandmother} and practical salt of the earth Presbyterian ancestors, kind of made it a bit of a hard slog to fully embrace. Standing now so long downwind from the staid rituals of such things, I am returning for another perusal. You know, Anglican church services don’t have what one would call philosophies, … Continue reading The Path Into The Light Seems Dark

spring garden 2018 - May -

Thru My Arbour There Is A Place

Through the hedge is another country, the great “out there”, as it were. Often you’ll find me basking in the shadows made by the Black Walnut Trees that surround this little place I call home, dripping their toxicity, allowing only woodlanders to thrive, and dismissing the dalliances of species that do not belong – VIP only. Black walnut is allopathic, as it excretes chemicals into … Continue reading Thru My Arbour There Is A Place


though a door in the closet under the stairs through the looking-glass an abandoned mansion that lay inside old velvet walls beckon me towards dusty corners up the winding stair where more neglect lies hidden from my view, no more ignoring the darkness inside will consume you and goes past unaware ** ~~ ** ~~ ** ~~ ** [photo courtesy WP Free Photo Library] Continue reading within

the best things in life are free -

The Best Things In Life Are Free

Down the sidewalks of the village, left and then a right, and left, wait for the light and then we cross the busy road. Almost there, almost. We pass the daycare, and ahead I can see the green. Well, with a dog it’s never that straightforward. Of course, she must sniff every single upright structure for the ‘news’ of who’s been there before her, inspect … Continue reading The Best Things In Life Are Free

And The Ghost Of Robert Jackson Appears Stage Left

As ‘we the people’ are split apart with a well-placed wedge stuck in a crack in a log, and deftly knocked, splitting down the centre, as he settles his generous white butt into that house of white down yonder in the land of my birth. Which, by the way, is why I care, and, well, and my Dad’s Dad’s family are news junkies, so it’s … Continue reading And The Ghost Of Robert Jackson Appears Stage Left