Friday, September 12, 2025

It Would Be His 96th Birthday: An Essay


Me with my dad and little sister



Although I no longer remember the actual moment when we posed in this photo, the picture is a forever memory, my having first spotted it as a little girl in Mom's photo album, and now taking up residence in mine. It remains one of my favourite pictures of my dad. So young and handsome. I love that he had such a happy smile in that moment posing with his girls. This is probably the age I would have been when I played with my invisible playmate, Barry (you can visit my previous post to learn more HERE).

The following essay was written about a year after my dad passed away in the early 2000s. It became part of the healing path as I waded through the grief and sense of deep loss I felt at the time. It was such a comforting piece to write. It helped me to put things in perspective, I think. This September he would be celebrating his 96th birthday. His brother, my uncle, just celebrated his 100th and we were so happy to think of Uncle's long life. We think wistfully what if Dad could have had that same length of life. . . . however, such is life, we don't choose when we arrive on this planet and we don't choose, not usually, when we leave it. Especially if we believe God holds our lives, times, and seasons in his loving hands.

Hope you enjoy... 

Beautiful Hands
"A father doesn’t tell you that he
loves you. He shows you."
Attributed to DEMITRI THE STONEHEART

WHEN WE WANT to convey our affection and esteem to someone, gifts, flowers, and Hallmark™ cards have become accepted (even expected) tokens of our love. Like many, I avail myself of these most agreeable traditions, and I admit my eyes light up with pleasure at the sight of a parcel, florist bundle, or card addressed to me. Now, I am the daughter of a man who did not express his love in these traditional ways. My dad was quiet and reserved, and for reasons only he knew, he kept his emotions and counsel close to himself all his life. It was not easy for him to initiate a hug or say words of love or commendation, even when he was proud of us. And he usually wasn’t one who stood by the card counter to pick out the special occasion greetings for the people he cared about.

Still, growing up I never doubted that Dad loved me. Maybe as a child, I just assumed my parents would love me. I took it for granted. And there wasn't anything to disprove that belief in my experiences growing up in our family. All my material needs and many of my wants were provided for in ample measure, and when I think about it in retrospect, his hands (in tandem with his heart) articulated a love that no store-bought gift or card could have done more eloquently than the countless acts of service and lovingly hand-made offerings he presented to me and my family over his lifetime.

Dad's hands were strong and brawny. With freckles on them. Sometimes dirty with good old farm dirt or machinery grease if he was fixing the tractor or combine. They were the hands of a farmer, a builder, a gardener. They were always industrious and resourceful and never harsh, although he could give a sharp whack to a stubborn sow's rump to get her moving. When I was little, I would sometimes take hold of his hand and marvel at how small my own hand felt in his. I could feel its strength. It was nothing for him to open a stubborn jar of pickles or haul a couple of five-gallon pails filled with grain or potatoes.

Dad’s hands seemed to enjoy making surprises for us: wooden tops, whistles carved from tree branches, little knitting devices created from Mom’s leftover cotton thread spools. In the days before mega-toy stores, it was nothing for my dad to fashion scraps of metal and lumber into some great play things. I don’t remember asking for a swing, sandbox, or seesaw, but there they were one day. And, oh, the countless hours of fun we had playing on them. There was also the time we came home from school to find a newly-built desk, just our size, sitting in our bedroom. Too small for adult legs to fit comfortably under now, it still has a place in our family, that little red-hued mahogany desk Dad lovingly built for us.

Yes, Papa’s hands could rummage through junk piles and find the neatest treasures at an auction or garage sale. They were hands clever enough to recycle bits and pieces into a ‘brand new’ bicycle, strong enough to dig fence post holes with a hand auger, and, in later years, they were coordinated enough to use a small needle to hand stitch the many family quilts Mom sewed. Whether he designed a go-cart with his young son or birdhouses with his grandsons; woodworked oak shelves for Mom and doll cradles for his granddaughters; whether he refurbished and fortified work-worn wheelbarrows for kids who now had gardens of their own (often painting them in his favourite jolly red or John Deere green)—these deeds all represented Dad’s own brand of 'I love you'.

Dad’s hard-working hands also knew how to be kind, and they never struck us in anger. They were safe hands. As a young father, he cheerfully changed wet diapers and crawled on his hands and knees, so my little sister and I could play hairdresser with his reddish blonde hair. Later, as a grandpa, his hands would joyfully reach out for toddling grandbabies, settling them on his knee and planting big fat kisses on their chubby cheeks. Dad never felt nervous or shy around the little ones. Perhaps small children posed no threat; they made no demands for conversation, happy just to play with his reading glasses and sit on his quiet lap. He never grabbed out to them when they weren’t quite ready for his bear-hugs, but often you’d find a youngster tucked in the crook of Grandpa’s arm as they both snoozed in the big La-Z-Boy recliner.

As a girl, I accepted my dad’s quiet and unassuming manner and was comfortable with it. However, as I matured into adulthood, my own secret desire for more affirming words and physical expressions made me long for something less restrained, maybe even more ‘traditional’ from him. And then I came across a book by author Gary Chapman entitled, The Five Love Languages. Based on his own research, Chapman explained that people tend to express their love in five basic ways: words of affirmation, physical touch, quality time, gifts, and acts of service. It suddenly dawned on me—Dad had always been telling me he loved me, every time he filled my pantry with sacks of potatoes and vegetables he had grown in his garden; every time he responded so willingly, almost eagerly, to my requests for something from his workshop or help with building a new fence.

His gifts and acts of service took on a whole new meaning for me. This was how he said, “I love you”. I now understood the love language he used. And I translated that into what was my own key love language: words of affirmation. I let his actions speak the words I had wanted to hear. Finally understanding, I settled into that knowing. Gifts of love don’t come only in the shape of flower bouquets, greeting cards, or beribboned packages from department stores; they come to us in as many creative ways as there are people in this world. Although I always appreciated what he did for me, I came to truly cherish the kind gestures, generous deeds, and quiet ways my dad chose, maybe even dared, to show his affection. I quit looking for something Dad could not give and received with joy what he could.

The character Jacob in a movie I saw years ago (the Hallmark film Sarah Plain and Tall), responded to Sarah when she observed that he wasn’t good with words. His reply: “Sometimes words aren’t good enough”.  Perhaps Dad would agree.

At the writing of this, it's almost a year since those busy and loving hands were stilled. Despite the dreadfulness of my dad’s illness, something quite wonderful happened during the last couple of years of his life, and especially the last few months of his time here on earth. Some of the barriers and reservations with which Dad had guarded his inner life began to fall away, and we began to catch glimpses of the man behind all that reserve. Oh, he still didn’t say much when we visited, but there was less restraint, a new easiness between us. He liked it when I read a favourite Bible passage aloud as I sat by his bed. His hand was content to rest in mine when I’d reach out to hold it. Hugs were eagerly received and given. It was good.

Jesus once said that people will know we are His disciples by our love. Surely Dad’s crown must shine brightly for all the ways, seen and unseen, he expressed love and kindness to me and my family and also to the many others who crossed his path. Those strong, beautiful hands . . . they spoke of a love I shall always cherish and of a man I shall never forget.



Happy Birthday, dearest Dad!

Sending heart hugs to everyone reading this,
and thank you for stopping by.
Brenda
My Blogging Schedule:
I post on Fridays




Friday, September 05, 2025

September: Five on Friday and Guest Blogging on InScribe




"Ah, September! You are the doorway to
the season that awakens my soul..."
PEGGY TONEY HORTON


It's been a busy week. And the weather has held up. Except we had a few heavy smoke days so we stayed indoors for a couple of them. Which gave me a chance to read Ann Cleeves's first Vera mystery The Crow Trap which was published in 1999. It was one of my library book sale finds. I enjoyed reading the book after having watched most of the Vera episodes on television. The actors play out in my head as I follow the story on paper. Brenda Blethyn looms large as life as she drinks tea and calls people "Pet" while going about her business of finding a killer. I learned a lot more about Vera from reading the novel. There is so much that film doesn't or can't catch. I'm glad I read it.

Along with the turn of the calendar page, the season turned as well. We had lovely summer days the last week of August, but this week there has been a definite bite in the air. I wasn't venturing around in shorts and sleeveless tee-shirts, but I spotted one young woman waiting for the school bus the other morning who looked like she might have wished for a wee jacket. What we will do at 16 to look cool.

I hope you enjoy today's Five on Friday edition. Thank you for stopping by! xo   


One. The season is changing
While it's officially still summer, around here autumn leaves are falling (I've had fun crunching in a few tiny piles along the roadside). The nights are getting cooler, and the daytime temperatures have a crispness in the air even though you can still feel the real warmth of the sun on your back. To mark the coming changes, I pulled out my copy of Autumn, An anthology for the changing seasons, edited by Melissa Harrison and copied out a few lines that say what I feel too: 

"Autumn is an adventure, a season of transformation, and a time to prepare for the long winter ahead. It is a thousand leaves falling to the ground and nourishing the soil beneath; it is . . . refreshing winds that sweep the haze of summer away; it is the calm before the storm. More than that, though, autumn is a celebration of senses, of new experiences for your eyes, ears, tongue, skin and nose; it rouses your consciousness after the calming effects of summer. Autumn isn't the season of decay or death, but one of wealth and renewal. It is the changing landscape; the subtle anticipation of winter. Autumn is to be enjoyed. Autumn is bold bursts of colour that leap from every corner of the landscape; it is golden yellow, fiery red, bright orange, and rich chocolate brown, and a faded green that reminds us of summer."
From the essay by Louise Baker, 2016


Two. How cute is this?
A dear friend gave me this sweet teapot box which is the perfect size for tucking in favourite samples of tea. Or, in this case, a baggie of dried ginger root strips for brewing in a teapot. The ginger was so fragrant when I opened the box.


Three. My friend Barry
Barry was my best friend when I was a little girl not yet in school. I should also tell you that Barry was invisible, and only I could see him. I have no idea how I came to have such a friend, but I know the name came from an actual boy who visited with his family at our neighbour's house. We must have met them.
To this day, I still have one vivid picture in my mind's eye of me walking outside with my arm draped around Barry's shoulder. I have no idea what we chatted about, but we were best buddies. I never told anyone about my new friend. My mom told me of the time when she went to sit down at the kitchen table and I yelled, "You can't sit there. Barry is sitting there." I think Mom realized I needed a playmate. Hmmm, maybe that's when my little sister came along.

I'm sharing this with you today because Barry came to visit the other day out of the blue (only in my memory, of course). I think he looked pretty much as he did 64 or 65 years ago. He hadn't aged in my mind's eye. But I do wonder what this now grown man must look like in real life today.


Four. Loving this
bouquet of flowers that sits on the dining room table.


Five. Guest blogging elsewhere
I am guest blogging on InScribe today "One Unfinished Project: Starting Again". I'm chatting about picking up a memoir I started writing several years ago but never finished. I'd love for you to join me over THERE.


Wishing you a beautiful day,
Brenda
Photo credits:

(Top) Image by ... from Pixabay
(Autumn) Image by ... from Pixabay
(Paper Teapot) by Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful Life
(Little girl) Image by Hai Nguyen from Pixabay
(Bouquet) by Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful Life
(Computer) Image by Jan Vašek from Pixabay


My Blogging Schedule:
I post on Fridays


Friday, August 29, 2025

Five on Friday: Wrapping Up August




"Summer should get a speeding ticket."
UNKNOWN


Well, I would like to know where the summer has gone. We're already at the September long-weekend. With kids at the start of a new school year in their new school clothes, gripping pencils and clean-paged scribblers (I suppose they're in their backpacks these days) as they climb into the bus. To this day, I still get that little surge of adrenalin as we move from summer to September. As a girl, it was always a little nerve-wracking to start a new school year: Would I be smart enough to make it through without too much embarrassment? Who would I find to be playmates in this new year?

The surge of adrenalin that comes now is more of anticipating what projects I might want to work on. As the light slants differently and evenings draw a little closer, one's thoughts turn more towards the home and being indoors. I think about what writing projects I might want to focus on, what home projects I want to tackle.

Here, with my latest Five on Friday, is a glimpse of what's been on my mind this week.


 One. A week of 'dog days of summer'
Our summer weather has been decent. Many warm days, alongside cool, rainy, and windy ones. This week it has been hot and sultry in the true summer fashion. And we've been reveling in the heat. Sipping frosted glasses of sparkling water—especially the Maison Perrier non-alcoholic Mojito (citrus and mint) beverage. Refreshing! Sitting in the mornings with our coffees and listening to the chickadees busy with their chattering and fluttering off with sunflower seeds.

This afternoon we've got plans to visit the Italian Centre for affogatos—the Italian dessert where shots of espresso are served over gelato. Someone described it as "buttery notes of vanilla ice cream and bold accents of espresso". Yes, that describes them. And they are yum!


Two. A doily detail

This little doily under my pretty green thrift store vase is now more than 50 years old now. I was in high school when I crocheted it. I'd asked my grandma if she would teach me to crochet. She told me to select a pattern, so I browsed through her collection of pattern books. My heart was smitten with one I really loved – the biggest and most complicated in the book, if you want to know. She gently suggested that I might want to start with something simpler. And smaller. No, no, I was determined. I could do this. I can see her giving a gentle shrug. I started it enthusiastically and got as far as you see in the photo. When I graduated from high school, I packed my bags for college, deciding not to take the doily project with me as I probably wouldn’t have time to work on it. (I wonder now where Grandma found it stashed and forgotten in the excitement...)

I came back at Christmas time, I don’t recall if it was my first Christmas away or the following year, but under the Christmas tree I found a little package wrapped and tagged with my name on it in Grandma’s handwriting. Inside was my little doily, at the stage where I had left it, except it had now had a simple edging to finish it off. Which meant I could use it. She must have sensed that I would never come back to finish this overly ambitious project, I think she would have been right. I was so overcome with emotion... love, I think it was, that she would do this for me. I have treasured this little doily ever since. It's still in use, even though doilies might be a little out of fashion.



Three. Musing about my old journals

Musing about my old journals, I wonder what I should do with them. One question that keeps coming up is as I think about getting rid of them, is why am I loathe to destroy them. The answer, simply said, it's because so much of my life is entwined in these words on hundreds upon hundreds of pages. To destroy them would feel like I'm destroying something of my soul. As you can see, it's a struggle, but as I get closer to my 70s there is a sense of urgency not to put it off too much longer. 

I started keeping a journal nearly forty years ago (January 1987) the year I would turn 30. Up to that point, I'd written bits and pieces in scraps of notebooks. I came to realize I wanted something more stable, and more formal, I guess (L.M. Montgomery certainly was influential in this area of my writing). Since then I have filled nearly 200 'blank' notebooks in varying shapes, sizes, and styles. The books were always chosen for their appealing covers—they had to be pretty to look at, cute, or whimsical. They are mostly all tidily stacked in storage boxes in the closet of my study. The boxes are already worded (in the event of my untimely demise) with "To be destroyed on my death", with the sincere hope that I won't kick the bucket before I have a chance to create something from them for 'posterity', and not leave the mess of all those boxes for my family to deal with.

I think about what other people have done with their old journals. Susan Branch used her old diaries as research references for her now published memoirs (The Fairy Tale Girl, Martha's Vineyard: Isle of Dreams, and A Fine Romance). More recently, I read a biography about Louisa May Alcott. Did you know that she annotated her old journals? When re-reading them, she added little notes to explain things, to say how she later saw those events or experiences as she looked back. L.M. Montgomery knew her journals would be of literary interest down the road, since she was an author. Her editors published those volumes years later. From her notes penned in the first published journal, LMM had kept diaries since she was nine; she later burned them—she said they were "so silly" and "very dull". She began her "new kind of diary" in 1889 when she was 14. Eventually she re-wrote the earliest journals (written between 1889 and 1918 in various shapes and sizes) into ledger books, with the goal to rewrite them "careful[ly] to copy it exactly as it is written", and that she would "illustrate it" as she went along, with photos to describe scenes and people she had mentioned. Her journals are now published, and I am glad to own the five volumes of  "Selected Journals" from 1889-1942.

Dealing with my old journals feels right to begin in the autumn season. It matches my own autumn season of life, where, although it can still be filled with colour, brightness, and fruitfulness, there is also a sense of waning... and winding up of many things.

I will try to keep you posted as I ponder more and begin the process. And I wouldn't mind hearing what plans you might have for your old journals, if you are a journaling person. Have you figured it out? 


Four. Waiting for Miranda's book
For anyone who follows Miranda Mills on YouTube, you will know that she has her first book coming out this September. Like many of us, she loves collecting quotations, and The Country Commonplace Book is filled with her own favourite seasonal-themed passages. I've pre-ordered my copy and can't wait for its arrival later this autumn.

Five. Favourite quotes
Here are a few quotes I found in my 5-year quotes diary this morning which I enjoyed reading all over again. (I am surprised that I'm in the last quarter of year four already. At the end of 2026, I'll have five years' worth of quotes in one tiny diary. It's been a fun project.)

"You might not be a morning person or a night owl,
but with the right amount of coffee and snacks, you can
be an enjoyable afternoon person."
UNKNOWN, seen on Instagram


"If you have good thoughts they will shine out of your
face like sunbeams, and you will always look lovely."
ROALD DAHL, The Twits


"Just a heads up, I've decided to live my life like
everything is working out in my favor."
JACOB NORDBY, seen on Instagram


"What is it you want to write [do]
with the time remaining?"
SHAWNA LEMAY, The Flower Can Always Be Changing


"Live in each season as it passes; breathe the air,
drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign
yourself to the influence of the earth."
HENRY DAVID THOREAU



On that note, I'm wishing you a beautiful week ahead,
Brenda
Photo credits:
(Top) Sunflowers by Jill Wellington from Pixabay
(Drinking glasses) Image by Biella Biella from Pixabay
(Vase) Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful Life
(Journals) Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful Life
(Miranda's book cover) Amazon
(Hansa Rose) Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful Life

My Blogging Schedule:
I post on Fridays



Friday, August 22, 2025

Five on Friday: Treats of the Week




"Take each day as it comes and make the best of
it—not in resignation as in 'that's all there is'—but
embroider it with beauty and kindness as well as
you can with what you have in your hand."
BL


Our pink hydrangea bush has outdone itself in amazingness this summer. She was a gift par excellence for our soul; it bloomed all summer long. Recently I read a woman online who referred to the time she spends outdoors in nature as her way of taking a daily dose of Vitamin 'N'. After I chuckled I thought, yes, I've had generous doses of that vitamin myself this summer... right here in my own garden.

What do I have to share with you this Friday as we edge toward the end of August? I look around and find a few things I think you'll like. Hope you enjoy and thanks for stopping by. 


One. Peek-a-boo

We sighted these pink petunias on our early morning walk. Squeezing through the crack from the north facing side of the fence belonging to one house, this sprig of wonderment captured my imagination. Was it reaching from the dark side to the south facing side to reach the sun, perhaps? It made me grin to see such enthusiasm for life and light.


Two. Beguiling ribbon

I was with my mom the other day and we popped into Michaels. She was on the lookout for pretty colours of yarn for the baby blankets she's crocheting. As I trailed after her, my eye caught a new display of autumn ribbons (they were on sale two-fer-one). My colour-loving eyes gravitated towards these two rolls and my heart had to have them.


Three. Thrift store find

In a drift of run-of-the-mill vases all shapes, sizes and colours, there it sat like a little gem, this green glass vase that felt so weighty I almost wondered if it were made from something like alabaster. I picked it up, put it down thinking I don't need another vase, walked to the end of the aisle, turned around and popped it into my basket. Ever since, I love spotting it, with its simple posy, on the living room coffee table. I love touching its cool and smooth texture. And I love that it's a soft green.


Four. Fluffy Cottage Cheese Pancakes

Serves 2

1 cup cottage cheese
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla extract
1-2 Tbsp honey
1/2 cup flour
1/4 cup oat flour
2 tsp baking powder

In food processor, whizz cottage cheese and eggs about 30 seconds.
Add the rest of the ingredients, and pulse until combined.

Preheat griddle or nonstick pan on medium/low heat.

Add a bit of butter or oil to pan if you like crispy edges.

Scoop 1/3 of a cup batter per pancake onto the pan and spread a bit.

Cook about 4 minutes on each side. They will be a deep
golden brown when done.
 
*Note: Pancakes need to be cooked on a lower heat and
a little longer than regular pancakes.
 
Serve with berries and your favourite syrup.

Or eat just as is, which I was tempted to do,
they were so tasty. And fluffy.

These are awesome yummy!


I've been hanging onto this recipe for years, and I'm sorry to say that I have never made it until this week. The site where I originally found it no longer exists.


Five. Greeting cards

I love collecting and using pretty greeting cards. Especially art cards. Sometimes I want them worded with specific messages for birthday or get well or thinking of you, but quite often I choose cards that are blank so I can write my own notes in them.

I bought the bookstore out of this 'Greenhouse and Hollyhocks' card. I bought them two at a time until there were no more to buy on the shelf. The artist is Lucy Grossmith whose cards are a 'celebration of the beautiful coast and countryside of the British Isles.' You can find her on Etsy and HERE.

Then I spotted that sweet little box of notecards (at the same bookstore) with the pink flowers; they are from Punch Studio.com. They are just the size for a wee thank you note (3.5 x 5"). The little message bordered around the edge says, "Let the beauty of what you love be what you do."


Bonus. On the nightstand

Apples on a Windowsill
by Shawna Lemay

Reading it for the first time, I am loving this local author's
book of meditations on still life, photography, beauty, and
marriage. Published in 2024, she also speaks of how she and her
 painter husband made their way through the pandemic which
I find most interesting to revisit at this stage.

Giant's Bread
by Agatha Christie writing as Mary Westmacott

This novel "tells the story of Vernon Deyre, a young composer
who reinvents his identity after being declared dead in WWI. . . .
His sheltered childhood in the home he loves has not prepared
Vernon for the harsh reality of his adult years."

I'm just starting this novel. Chapter One opens with the narrator
telling the tale from young Vernon's viewpoint of what the world looks
like to a little boy growing up in an English nursery. Already I begin
to love this sweet, thoughtful youngster. 
The novel was critically acclaimed upon publication.

The magazine: In Her Garden
Summer 2025
by Stampington & Company

This charming magazine requires a quiet afternoon
for browsing with a cup of tea and a bit of sweet treat.
You can learn more about the magazine HERE




On that note, I'm wishing you
glimpses of heaven in unexpected places,
Brenda
Photo credits:
Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful Life
excluding the Pancake photo which is by Rita E from Pixabay

My Blogging Schedule:
I post on Fridays



Friday, August 15, 2025

Five on Friday: Meandering and Musing




"It is the glistening autumnal side of summer.
I feel a cool vein in the breeze, which braces my thought."
HENRY DAVID THOREAU


When people ask me "So, what's new?" I usually feel stymied for an answer. My life is generally quiet—the usual daily events happen in undramatic ways so it's hard to come up with something that feels fresh and interesting to say. I often end up saying, 'Oh, nothing much." Which sounds kind of dull. Which, of course, isn't quite true but it's the simplest answer. In my imagination, I am much more vivacious and much more interesting, and I wish a little of that would translate into 'real' life conversations when it's needed. Haha

I do think better when I can write it. I have time to think, and my mind more easily scouts for descriptions and scenes that might amuse or catch someone's interest.

Since the question's been raised, what's new? God's grace and mercy are new every morning. Thankfully. New blossoms keep showing up every day on the lacy daylilies, and on those clove-scented dark pink pin cushion plants (for which the name escapes at the moment).

There are new cups of coffee to savour sitting in the garden in the warm breeze. And speaking of coffee, I like coffee in the mornings, tea in the afternoons, but if I have only one to choose from, it would have to be coffee.

I'm ever on the lookout for what beauty stirs me on a given day. What the sky looks like today, how the trees are bending in the wind, if the clouds are drifting or racing, which birds are still singing at this time of year.  It's those kinds of moments where that unexplainable feeling on the inside wells up with delight or contentment or a sense of well-being. But how does one say that out loud into words?

Sitting at my desk today, hopefully a few little things have jostled up to make your visit worth your while. I'm so glad you stopped by. 🥰


One. The weather
"Autumn approaches and the
heart begins to dream."
Bashō
The Sound of Water: Haiku by Bashō, Buson, Issa, and Other Poets

The morning was overcast and cool. We put off our early morning walk and went straight to coffee as we hoped it would feel less jacket needful later in the day. (Later...) it started raining and got all puddly out there. And since we might melt in the rain, we'll save our walk for tomorrow.

The sun set at 8:58 p.m., more than an hour earlier than it set on Summer Solstice in June. The slant of the sun comes in differently through our west windows. One doesn't have to look at the calendar to feel the season shifting. I am loathe to hurry summer but it's doing so on its own.

 

Two. Summer treats
I am always in need of little treats and tiny adventures (something a little off the beaten path). You probably feel that too. It doesn't matter who we are, we all love those things that add variety and a bit of spice and the unexpected to the patterns and routines of our lives. Just enough to add a sparkle. They could include:
- Fresh peaches, cherries, raspberries

- New baby potatoes cooked with fresh dill

- 'No Sugar Added' dark chocolate almond Revellos
(we called them revels growing up, the "o" is silent - haha)

- Stepping out the front door late in the evening and catching
the fragrance of the evening scented stock in the air.

- A welcome text that says, 'Will you be home Saturday? We're
in the area and would love to stop in for a wee visit'.


Three. Magazine
I have been enjoying finding this British magazine in the stands each new season. This time I'm enjoying the summer edition. The photos are stunning—I'd buy the magazine for that front cover alone. There's something about the deep blue vase alongside the golden sunflower that turns my colour crank to high appeal. Love, love, love the contrast.

Four. Reading
“So many books, so little time.”

New Acquisitions (includes thrift store finds)

Unnatural Causes
by P.D. James (mystery, 1967)

The Silent World of Nicholas Quinn
by Colin Dexter (Inspector Morse, 1977)

Mrs. Pollifax on the China Station
by Dorothy Gilman (mystery, 1983)

Finishing School, The Happy Ending to That Writing
Project You Can't Seem to Get Done
by Cary Tennis and Danelle Morton (on writing, 2017)

A Hundred Pieces of Me
by Lucy Dillon (novel, 2014)
Gina, recently divorced, wants to make a fresh start and throw away
all her possessions except for the one hundred things that mean the most to her.
(Borrowed this from the library years ago but it wasn't there
when I hankered a reread, so I bought my own copy.)

Walking Home, A Poet's Journey
by Simon Armitage (2012)
"The Romantic poets tramped all over the Lake District searching
for inspiration. How does a traveling poet fare in the modern world?"
-excerpt from back cover

Three More Books Read From My 'Unread' Shelf

The Royal Librarian
by Daisy Wood (historical WWII novel, 2024)
A young woman from Vienna, at the outset of war, flees to England
where she ends up working in the Royal Library at Windsor Castle.

Summer
by Edith Wharton (short novel, 1917)
A young woman living with her adoptive father in a
small village is desperate to escape the tedium of her small world.
Lovely descriptions of the surroundings.

Louisa May Alcott, A Personal Biography
by Susan Cheever (2010)
(Still reading, and enjoying, this bio. I see how
much I didn't know about Louisa May Alcott's background.)


Five. This catches my eye

"No one will ever know
that we lived,
that we touched the streets
with our feet
that we danced joyfully,
No one will ever know
that we gazed at the sea
from the train windows,
that we breathed
the air that settles
on the cafe chairs,
No one will ever know
that we stood on the terrace-of-life
until the others arrived."

NINO PEDRETTI, "Nobody Will Know"
(Italian poet, 1923 - 1981)


Those first two lines especially grabbed me. That's probably why those of us who write, write, isn't it? So that someone will read our words one day, maybe even in the distant future, and know we lived. That we once stood on the terrace-of-life, just as they will one day. I'm glad for Nino Pedretti who wrote these poignant words.



Sending bunches of wishes to you for
a beautiful day and week ahead,
Brenda

Photo credits:

(Top) Image by Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful Life

(Sunflower) Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

(Raspberries) Image by ... from Pixabay

(Magazine) Image by Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful Life

(Books) Image by Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful LIfe

(Cafe) Image by Christel from Pixabay





Thursday, August 07, 2025

Guest Blogging Elsewhere: The Season for Gathering Memories




Everything has seasons, and we have
to be able to recognize when something's time
has passed and be able to move into the next season.
HENRY CLOUDfound on BrainyQuote.com


I have a new blog post up on InScribe, my writers' fellowship blog. Our theme this month is seasons of life, so I'm chatting about the season when I turned 60 - how it became a season for gathering the  memories.

If this interests you, grab your mug of tea or coffee and meet me over HERE.

Hope your August is unfolding in summery, soft ways for you. I wish you grace for whatever you have going on. I'll be back next Friday. 


Wishing you a beautiful day,
Brenda
Photo credit:
Image by CongerDesign from Pixabay



Friday, August 01, 2025

Hello August: Daybook Post




"August is like the Sunday of summer."
UNKNOWN


I woke alive and fresh every morning over the last four weeks, so August did not sneak up on me. But I ask you, how can it be August already? Oh my goodness, the summer weeks are flying.

We have a new tree arriving this morning to replace our beautiful mountain ash which died a couple of years ago. I felt quite bereft with the empty space it left in our yard—and heart—when we cut down the old trunk and branches. We've missed the height and the shade and the screening it gave us and our neighbours (so we weren't peering into each other's backyards). But soon... there will be a new lovely serviceberry tree to fill our lives with blossoms in spring, greenery and shade in the summer. It's not huge now but it will grow.

Without further ado, here is August Daybook edition to start the month on a cheery note.



For Today

From my window...
The skies are blue. There are few clouds at this point. The wind is up.
And I stare out into my garden marveling at how the cotton-candy pink
hydrangea stands in contrast to the showy fuchsia-pink lavatera
that fills the corner with such loveliness.  


I am wearing...
Comfy white capris, a sleeveless top with a floral-leafy pattern, dangly
earrings also in leaf motif, and generous spritzes of rose-scented fragrance.


A clutch of quotes that caught my eye recently...

"And what is happiness?
Happiness is when the door of your house closes,
and everything you need is inside - the people you love,
the warmth of a cozy home, and the sense of belonging." 
ROSANNA B.  LUNDBERG

"Humor is just one of the ways we can resist
the chaos and uncertainty we're living through."
STACEY ABRAMS, as seen on Facebook
 
"In the morning when I wake, I ask God to
get into my head before I do."
POSITIVE LINES, as seen on Facebook

"Do weights for muscles,
Cardio for heart,
Ice cream for mental health."
MISSNUTRITIONIST, on Instagram



One simple pleasure...
To watch these lilies burst open in the
front garden as July comes to a close.
I love their frilly edges.

"Flowers seem intended for the
solace of ordinary humanity."
JOHN RUSKIN


Update on my 2025 reading goal...
Back in January I mentioned wanting to read more books from my own
shelves before acquiring new ones (and not to hold me to that). To focus
on reading from the 'never been read' shelf which holds around 130 to 150
books that have been collected through the years from various sources.

So far, I have read 70 books this year, and of those, 17 have been from my
'never been read' shelf. Using my rusty math skills, I figure about
24 percent of what I have read meets my goal. I mentioned that
stat to Rick, and he said, "You've got some reading to do."
Yes, sir, I'm getting right on that! (wink, wink)

If you want to see what I've been reading,
check out my page HERE.


On my 'to do' list...
. Make salmon salad sandwiches on whole grain bread for lunch
. Buy some fresh peaches for peach tart
. Finish this blog post
. Meet friends for a coffee (maybe iced)
. Enjoy the heat of the summer day in the shade of the umbrella
with book in hand and iced lime water nearby


A treat...
Drives along country roads are a treat on these high summer days.
The ditches and edges are filled with wild flowers. It is so good to see
vetch and clover and alfalfa and foxtails and goldenrod
and chamomile... all waving in the breezes.
Turn your window down and smell the air.


A couple of favourites books I reread in July...
The Scent of Water (novel)
by Elizabeth Goudge

Prodigal Summer
by Barbara Kingsolver


In the kitchen...
I had some cremini mushrooms I wanted to use for supper.
Something simple, quick, and yummy. I found this recipe for
Sautéed Mushrooms with Garlic. It fit the bill. It was delicious.
You'll find the link HERE.


Not to rush summer but...
I can't wait for the release of these NEW books coming out
this autumn. Do you have any titles that you are waiting for?

by Susan Branch
To be released Aug 15th

by Miranda Mills
To be released Sept 23rd

by Jan Karon
(a new Father Tim/Mitford novel)
To be released Oct 7th

by Louise Penny
 (a new Gamache crime novel)
To be released Oct 28th

by Margaret Atwood
To be released Nov 4th

by S.J. Bennett
(5th in Her Majesty the Queen Investigates series)
To be released Nov 11th 


Closing thoughts...
"Summer’s lease hath all too short a date."
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Sonnet 18

It's not over yet so...

. Go out for ice cream.
. Run through a sprinkler with a child
. Sit on a sidewalk cafe, savour a beverage
. Eat watermelon - see who can spit the seeds the farthest 
. Walk in the evening when shadows lengthen
. Stay outside long enough to smell evening scented stocks on a cool breeze
. Eat fresh tomatoes with mayo and basil on crusty bread
. Watch for the full moon in a few days




Wishing you a lovely August,
Brenda
Photo credits:
Raspberries Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay
Typewriter graphic from TheGraphicsFairy.com
Pink Lily Image by Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful Life



Friday, July 25, 2025

A Summer Afternoon in a Garden




"The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth—
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth."
DOROTHY FRANCES GURNEY


There are times when I lament the vanishing of beauty in our world. There is so much ugly around us that pushes us in the face. But then we saunter through a garden that's filled with lovely flowers, shapely shrubs, and graceful trees. And we wander meandering pathways that are designed for pleasure and comfort. We are reminded, even though many destroy what is beautiful thinking beauty is not to be valued, there are so many more people who do care about our world... and who create and tend to what is beautiful for the sake of others. 

Our local St Albert Botanic Park is one such place. Maintained by volunteers from the community, it's set alongside the Sturgeon River. It's a place that invites one to come in and spend time here. Where we can enjoy the many nooks and crannies, the eye pleasing garden designs and placement of trees and plants, sitting on well-situated benches where we can rest a while, feel the warmth of the sun on our backs, watch bees buzzing around the roses bushes, maybe have a chat with a friend.

The day we visited the weather was perfect—warm but not hot, with gentle breezes. Groups of people were strolling along, including one family with little ones who thought the park was great for running and chasing in, and I think they were having great fun. After our stroll through the gardens, we sat at a patio table where people can enjoy ice cream treats from the gift shop. We watched a brave squirrel come closer and closer in hopes that a bit of something will fall to the ground. He'd be right there to snatch it up. I looked up, and there walking into the area came a former work colleague and dear friend with her adult daughter. What a delightful surprise. They sat down with us for a few minutes and we had a right old catch up in ten minutes. It was just so nice to see them... spontaneous serendipity that created a warm spot in the heart.

As I grow older the simple pleasure of visiting a garden, alone or with friends, becomes even more important to the well-being of my soul. Perhaps you find it so yourself. Today I am delighted to share the exuberant beauty of what caught my eye during our visit on an ideal summer afternoon.




Don't you want to step through that archway to
discover what lovely vista might catch your breath?

 












What a heavenly day
to be in a garden!






"Won't you come into the garden?
I would like my roses to see you."
RICHARD BRINSLEY SHERIDAN







"Flowers really do intoxicate me."
VITA SACKVILLE-WEST



Wishing you a beautiful day,
Brenda

Photo credits:
Brenda Leyland @ It's A Beautiful Life