Five On Friday, Maybe Six

"Flowers seem intended

for the solace of ordinary humanity."

JOHN RUSKIN

The last couple of days have been very summery. We feel the balmy air and warm sunshine as we sit on the front patio eating fresh peaches and sipping our Monk's Blend tea. It hardly seems like September when we see how the garden just keeps blooming. We think it's all that rain and cool weather we've had. Plants relaxed, having neither to fight for water nor shrivel because it's too hot. Plus, it made our world green, green, green. Trees that have struggled for lack of moisture over several years this year seemed sated and happy once again. Makes me happy.

Today's post is short and sweet, but we hope our little offerings will be worth your visit. Our thoughts are still with those dealing with Dorian. And any thought of my grumbling about any little discomfort or inconvenient thing these days dies on my lips as I remember these dear folks who are experiencing such trauma, devastation, and loss.

~ ONE ~

The last roses of summer

Yesterday we plucked the last sprig of roses in bloom from the Peace Rose. These four beauties were all on one stem. A perfect offering for our neighbour two doors down -- a token of celebration upon hearing his very good news after a cancer scare earlier in spring.

~ TWO ~

Gazanias on the deck

These have been fun to watch all summer. On the many cool and wet days, these sun loving flowers closed up and remained in tight wads. But as soon as the temperature warmed and the sun touched their petals, the daisy-like flowers opened. Gazanias need the rays from the sun in order to survive and add new growth. They've been a joy to host on our back deck. 

~ THREE ~

A glimpse of the front yard

In spring I dared to plant shade-loving begonias in our southerly facing front yard. Mostly because by the time I went to the greenhouse -- I don't plant annuals too early for risk of frost and, alas, snow -- the heat- and drought-hardy sweet alyssums which I usually get were sold out. If we would have had the usual warm summer days, the begonias would not have thrived, but as you can see in the left photo, they flourished and grew lush in our cool and rainy summer. Blessings in every port... 

~ FOUR ~

Reading Louise Penny's latest

Louise Penny fans were chomping at the bit this summer, waiting for the August release of her latest Inspector Gamache detective mystery, set in the pretty village of Three Pines. I ordered my copy from Amazon back in May, joined the 'Three Pines Friendly' Facebook page, and kept company with other fans as we waited for our copies of A Better Man to arrive.

I read it in two days and then sat there for the next two rereading the last chapter trying to prolong the ending. It's a page turner. It's in Louise's beautiful style. This story does not disappoint. Loved it. Loved how it ended. Yes, I did. Already looking forward to her next one. Thank you, Louise.

By the way, she's going to be in Edmonton, Alberta in a couple of weeks. I've got tickets! I can't wait to see her in person. I'll be standing in her autograph line for sure.   

~ FIVE ~

Taking a selfie

"Less perfection, more authenticity." Snapped this photo to show my sister my new hair cut. I was worried it was too short. But it grew on me (haha). After editing out the wrinkles, I'm posting it here for you to see too. If I'd known I was going to post it for the world to see, I'da fixed my lipstick before taking the pic. C'est la vie!

~ SIX ~

Saying goodbye

Sage

Beautiful

Sweet, sweet girl

Fun, Funny, Friendly

Happy

You were our joy

Loved by those who knew her

Will be terribly missed

Your Aunty Brenda

♥ ♥ ♥

* * *

Wishing you a beautiful weekend.

Hugs,

Brenda

xox

A Visit To A Bit of Paradise

 

“Summer’s lease hath all too short a date.”

SONNET 18, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

My goodness, I know the calendar says that we're nearly at the end of August, but surely it's too soon to be moving from summer to autumn already! As these last few days unfold, try as I might in my own mind, I can no longer hold onto the feeling that we are still in deep summer. There IS a definite shift in the air and in the lighting. And when it's not raining -- we've had a great deal over the summer -- the sun comes up of a morning casting its seasonal fiery orange across tree tops and roof ridges, hinting at the deep oranges, russets and golden leaves soon to follow suit.

Give me a few days and I won't mind at all that we're edging towards Autumn Equinox here in the northern hemisphere. After all, Autumn is my favourite time of year, as is Winter, Spring and Summer. 😊 I used to be able to say unequivocally that Autumn was my absolute favourite, but as I get older, I've come to truly love and appreciate each season in its turn, always sorry to see one season go even though I know I'll love the next one. So while we still have a few more days of summer, it makes me take out my gratitude 'butterfly net' to gather moments that still give me more time to sit on the deck, go for walks in the sunshine, listen to the kids still playing and hollering at the water park down the street. 

Yesterday was a proper sunny summer afternoon. Rick and I went to the greenhouse to look for fall bulbs -- he's been chomping at the bit the last week or so. It was a tad early as they were just getting in their shipments of bulbs. Our trip was not a waste as we took a stroll through their small but lovely botanic garden. So peaceful and soul-refreshing. We were the only ones there, except for the gardener who, though busy pruning junipers, stopped to chat awhile. The hydrangeas were especially lovely. And what a sweet pleasure to see the tiny apple orchard, several varieties laden with globes of red and golden fruit. Allowed to sample, I picked a Norland and enjoyed its sweet, juicy flesh.

Took some pictures as we walked -- with you in mind, of course. Isn't that why many of us take photos nowadays, to share them online? I wouldn't doubt if ninety percent of my photo-taking is with the idea of planning future blog and social media posts. And so, on this nearly last day of August, here are a few, just for you.......

"We might think we are nurturing our garden,
but of course it's our garden that is really nurturing us."
JENNY UGLOW

"Flowers always make people better, happier, and more helpful;

they are sunshine, food and medicine to the mind."

LUTHER BURBANK

And so our little meander winds around and comes to the end.

Much like the meandering of this post and it's done too.

"...beauty is the homeland of the heart.

When it can dwell in beauty

the heart is home."

JOHN O'DONOHUE

Wishing you a pleasant weekend and a spot o' loveliness
where your heart feels 'at home'.

Hugs,

Brenda

xox

Peace Rose: A Notecard Set

Some years ago now, a lovely blogging friend Vee hosted a Notecard Party. It was held once a month, and the rule, as I recall, was that participants were to create a blog post featuring a collection of four photos they'd published in past blog posts. It was such fun to search for photos that would make a compatible foursome. I always loved seeing the creativity of other bloggers. As things go, the Notecard Party was eventually disbanded. I was sorry to see it go.

For today, I'm resurrecting the Notecard idea. My mom's Peace Rose, which currently lives in our garden and is overwintered in our garage, has been in its glory this past week. Having bloomed in early June, Peace Rose took several weeks to regroup, and despite all the rain we've had this summer, she has given us another sublime showing over the last few days. Perfectly-formed buds opening into blossoms surrounded by glossy, bug-free leaves. 

Here in Alberta, we never take for granted any roses that make it through winter and start growing in people's gardens come spring. I never tire of watching roses in bloom, and I never tire of taking yet another photo, just in case I didn't get every angle.

The Peace rose, formally Rosa 'Madame A. Meilland', has large flowers of a light yellow to cream colour and are slightly flushed with crimson-pink at the petal edges. The rose over the decades has become a symbol of hope around the world. I think we all could use some hopeful thoughts for better days, in light of this past weekend's terrible events. If you haven't heard of Peace Rose's famous history, you are welcome to read about her HERE.

I dedicate this post to my mom, since it is her rose (we're happily the caretakers) and since Mom is a 'beautiful rose' in her own right. And now, in four delightful stages, I give you... 

Peace Rose: A Quartet

Where you tend a rose, my lad,

a thistle cannot grow.”

FRANCES HODGSON BURNETT

God gave us memories that we

might have roses in December.

J. M. BARRIE

The Rose is without an explanation;

She blooms, because She blooms.

ANGELUS SILESIUS

The rose is a rose from the time it is a seed to the time it dies.

Within it, at all times, it contains its whole potential.

It seems to be constantly in the process of change:

Yet at each state, at each moment, it is perfectly all right as it is.

PAULO COELHO

A rose must remain with the sun and the rain

or its lovely promise won’t come true.

RAY EVANS

* * *

Aren't you glad for eyes to see such exquisiteness? And what about noses to smell? Her fragrance is like a whisper -- one must lean in close to catch the scent -- the way a woman's perfume ought to be, not overwhelming, just a hint on the breeze . . . soft and sweet and intimate.

 

On that note, dear friends, I'm wishing you a beautiful day.

Hugs,

Brenda

xox

Guest Blogging Elsewhere: Beautiful Words in Troubled Times

Photo: Blake Letchford on pixabay.com

Today I am guest blogging over at InScribe Writers Online. Our assignment, which I had great joy in undertaking, was to write about creating beauty with words. Right up my alley, don't you think? I thought it would be an easy assignment, since, as you know, I'm usually interested in sharing about beauty and living a beautiful life here.

As it turns out, writing the post was harder than I anticipated. C.S. Lewis captured it for me when he said, "I do not sit down at my desk to put into verse something that is already clear in my mind. If it were clear in my mind, I should have no incentive or need to write about it. We do not write in order to be understood; we write in order to understand."

He was so right. Draft after draft after draft, I found myself not only searching for the right words but I kept digging into the sentences and phrases I'd typed out, trying to find the essence -- the nub -- of what my heart truly wanted to say.

Thankfully all the pieces began to fall into place. I'm so grateful for the insights and wisdom from my editorially minded sister, and also for my lovely Facebook friend, Sandra, for words she'd shared in a Facebook comment that made a light bulb go off and helped steer my post in the right direction.

I offer you The Gift of Beautiful Words in Troubled Times. I hope you'll stop by. For the link, click HERE. 

Wishing you a beautiful day.

Hugs,

Brenda

xox

Journal Jottings On A Saturday Morning

I've always been a journal keeper. I've always

tried to write about how I'm experiencing life,

and my feelings and thoughts.

SUE MONK KIDD

It's usually a bit of a moment when I finish one journal and begin a crisp new volume. Such a moment happened this past week. The above notebook with the gold lettering and the pretty house and garden painting on its cover marks my 170th journal. It's hard to believe. And yes, I have every volume -- at this season of life they have become resourceful research material for stories and memoir pieces I'm working on.

I started journaling in the early 1980s when I was under the deep sway of influence from my beloved mentor Lucy Maud Montgomery. I loved her stories about Anne and Emily, and when I learned that her earlier journals were of an age when they could be made available to the public, I eagerly sought them out. At the time, the library had Volumes I and II, then I had to wait over the years for the rest to be published. I loved reading her journals, and if Ms. Montgomery had been such a committed journal keeper, then I knew I wanted to be one too. And, I've been pretty much dedicated to writing journals ever since.

My ever increasing collection is a motley crew of size and shape and colour. The old volumes are shelved in the deepest, highest part of the closet. Into these lovely notebooks, I poured all sorts of things and realized, in looking back at them, that I tended to open most entries with the date (of course) and a bit of the weather and sometimes (often) what time of day I was writing. How often it was in the wee hours of the night or morning that I'd be writing. And, for some reason, the weather seemed necessary to mark my journey in some way -- was it winter, summer, rainy, hot, dry, gloomy? Weather, we know, can affect our moods but I decided a long time that I would try as much as possible to live above the weather, not under it. And over time I'd come to appreciate every season in its every mood, whether clement (pleasantly dry and mild) or inclement (severely harsh weather that is wet and cold).  

Oh yes, we were talking about journaling, not the weather. My journals were, and continue to be a bit of diary -- said weather reports, marking events like birthdays and special events. They are also a tiny bit of venting, although I tend not to vent much in my journals, I don't want a paper copy of, em, my 'insane' moments. I do write about the things I read in books or hear from people I follow online, noting many a quotation for future reference and inspiration.

Plus, I'm often jotting verses from the Bible that offer a life boat of comfort and encouragement in difficult, or inclement, seasons. Not to mention bits of poetry that strike my fancy and thrill my soul with such beautiful ways of expressing something. And, there are those striking aha moments when I see something that changed how I view myself or the world around me -- a lot of musing and wondering and sorting out my feelings and thoughts. Writing it out helps me to clarify what I'm thinking about, what I agree or disagree with, and what I really desire underneath all the fluffy superficial surfaces.

Journals, for me, are places where I turn to when I can't say what's in my heart to anyone else. There are some things we all carry that are too deep or personal to share. Ofttimes we don't have the language to share it, even if we wanted to. So we make stabs at it in our writing. And hope that those poured out bits of prayers and yearnings make sense to the God who, we are told, cares about the tiniest details of our lives and longs for us to share them with Him.

Then there are those things I jot in that I don't want to forget at all. The ALIVE moments that make a day perfect in the end, even though it was less so overall. You know those glorious moments, when your heart zings with joy as you stand and watch a rainbow form after a summer shower. As you sit in the garden where the air is sweet with perfume and the birds chatter companionably at the feeders and our neighbourly Orange Kitty wanders in for a friendly visit and a quiet snooze in the garden. Where you are just glad, glad to be alive.

Journal writing is a
voyage to the interior.
CHRISTINA BALDWIN

When I started this post, in looking for something to share with you today, I opened my previous Van Gogh 'Branch of an Almond Tree' journal and decided to snoop for a few things that I thought might be interesting fodder to share. Sorry, there aren't any big secrets in my journals, not anymore. But it's still a place where I explore what I read and how I connect to books and articles I've read, and I usually have a pile of quotations that speak to me posted in large script, or squished in the margin alongside a related comment. At least that way, if I or someone else ever reads it in the future, there will be some famous writers' quotes to provide some relief in amongst the ramblings of an ordinary unknown woman.

Here is one: The very first thing I pick out from my browsing is that very special quote attributed to French mathematician, physicist, and writer Blaise Pascal. I seem to be writing it in every current journal:

"In difficult times

carry something beautiful

in your heart."

Even if my own life is relatively calm and pleasant, there is just so much rumbling of nasty business going on around the world. We could be sucked into believing that that is all that is going on, so I do make it a practice to carry something beautiful in my heart wherever I go. Those little gems I've jotted in my journals and so very often found on Facebook pages of friends and acquaintances are reminders to keep looking for glimpses of heaven's hope, joy and beauty in those million unexpected places.

Here's another jotting: I'd been reading Louise Penny's novel Bury Your Dead --the tale of a man found dead in the basement of the Historical and Literary Library located in French Quebec. And, of course, the well known Quebec motto pops up in the story: 'Je me souviens' which means 'I remember'.  When I saw that written out, I realized, aha, that's where the word souvenir must come from -- a token by which we can remember or recall a place or event.

I never did become fluent in our other official language. Living in the West, some of us were snobs about learning French as a second language. It was newly available in our school but in my school girl wit, I didn't see any point in learning a second language, especially French. I knew smatterings of German (from my grandparents and aunties and uncles). I always love listening to people speaking French, but I never could get my tongue around it. Perhaps I could take up lessons from where I left off in Grade Seven, and give myself a prize for attempting it at least, perhaps a trip to Quebec. And maybe, I'd even have a chance to see where Louise Penny created her idyllic Three Pines whilst there.

"Flowers always make people better,
happier, and more helpful: they are
sunshine, food and medicine for the soul."
LUTHER BURBANK

To bring a gentle close to this ramble of a post, I'm sharing the above quotation that I'd written in my journal back in May. The saying, as well as the peonies that we've been enjoying in every corner of our house these past weeks, fills my heart with grateful thoughts as the summer unfolds. During these rainy last few weeks, where it felt that true summer was never going to arrive, even in the midst of inclement goings on, flowers bloomed and birds had families and kitties came to visit. Slices of homemade lemon pie were shared with friends, and stems of roses from Peace Rose offered to delighted neighbours. Life blossomed even on grey, gloomy days. Life was good. Life is good. and I'm so very, very grateful.

Heart blessings on you all.

On that note, I'm wishing you a beautiful day.

Hugs,

Brenda

xox