The Adventures of Mr. Vole and the Merry Band of Wasps

September 25, 2019February 22, 202040 Comments

(Don’t be scared, it’s just a harmless little children’s book followed by a discussion on the creative muse – based on a true life story).

Mr. Vole was on a mission to dig up every bulb in the Home Owner’s garden. He didn’t eat the bulbs although once in a while he had one for dessert, but took them back to his home under the deck. Mr. Vole was a vegan and there was lots of other food to eat in the garden, although he was sad the lettuce was done. He had watched the squirrels storing them up for winter and thought it was a great idea. He pictured himself with a big fat tulip bulb and a cup of hot cocoa, in his cozy den while the snow piled up on the deck above.

Although he was a vole, he had a lot in common with moles, as he loved to dig. He was fast at it too. He was big and fat like a mole too. Sometimes he would dig up a bulb just for the sheer joy of spreading all that dirt on the sidewalk and annoying the Home Owner. She would get the broom out and sweep up, and a couple of hours later he would dig it all up again. He could tell she was annoyed, but that was part of the fun. The Home Owner was retired, so she had lots of time to sweep. She lived on Easy Street and fancied herself quite a gardener so there were lots of bulbs around too.

Mr. Vole wasn’t the only one annoying the Home Owner as one day a Merry Band of Wasps moved in above the deck. They were busy building their hive which was tucked up under the siding in a hidden spot. Their constant droning and swarming was annoying sometimes, and he could see why the Home Owner came out and sprayed them with something smelly. While a few fell suddenly to the ground, the net effect was just to increase the sound of the construction noise – as then they were angry and the buzzing grew louder. Things quieted down at night when they were all tucked up safe in their nest above deck, and he was able to sleep soundly below deck in his.

Some summer nights there were loud parties in the neighborhood, with bonfires and hotdogs, and he liked to stay out late on the deck and listen to the music. He was a big Bruce Springsteen fan. The wasps would join him, as they were always up for a “jam” session. With their constant buzzing, they learned to harmonize quite well and made good backup singers, but he was more the lead singer type. Sometimes the wasps had too much “hard cider” from the fallen crabapples and couldn’t keep their dance moves straight and what’s a boy band without dance moves, but they still had fun. They would always end the evening with a noisy rendition of “God Save the Queen” before they collapsed into bed.

One day the Home Owner boarded up all his nicely dug holes and he had to build new ones, which didn’t take long. It was a big deck, with lots of sides to dig under.

Sometimes she had company over to show off her new kitchen, and the wasps ended up spoiling the party. She made desserts and they loved anything sweet, so they hovered around making a pest of themselves and waiting for the crumbs.

One night, she came out very late in her PJ’s and tried to duct tape the opening of the wasp nest. Big. Mistake. Lady. The next night she came out and ripped it all off, as those sneaky wasps had found an inside venue to play in.

Things continued on in this manner for several weeks. One day a man showed up wearing a spacesuit with a huge hat with netting over his face. He meant business. Mr. Vole had noticed the car with the Pest-Bee-Gone decal on the side and quickly ran around the corner to warn the others. He climbed up on the railing and shouted as loud as he could – MayDay MayDay! (It was August, but they knew what he meant). One of the worker wasps darted inside and soon the whole swarm had exited and flown away, with the Queen B (not Beyonce) in their midst, protected on all sides by her entourage. He saw the man in the suit spray some not-exactly-fairy-dust inside the hole but they were already safely away.

Mr. Vole decided he had better move on too. Although he hated life on the road and would miss his cozy home under the deck, it was too dangerous to stay any longer. The Merry Band of Wasps were so grateful he had warned them that they told him about a mansion nearby, and he quickly found “new digs” under the deck of a larger house, one with younger owners and an in-ground swimming pool. He was now into rap music, like everyone else. The young owners worked long hours to pay for the big mortgage and were never home so he could cool off in the pool, a cold beverage in hand.

Soon he was the one hosting parties on the deck every night. The wasps were keen on anything Drake, but the Queen B had departed for a solo gig. They played together so much they got better and better, and the very next spring he decided to take the show on the road. The wasps were excited about a world tour, but he wanted to stay closer to home. He could see the marquee now – his name in flashing neon lights. (When you’re famous you only need a first name). Onward to Fame and Fortune (and only pink tulip bulbs in the backstage rider please).

Voley (in big letters) and the E-Street Wasp Band (in smaller letters).

Coming soon……to a neighborhood near you!

The End

(If you want to know the real ending, see the postscript below. Warning – not for the faint of heart).

Discussion on the Creative Muse:

It’s a curious thing what can spark the creative process. I find it interesting to read biographies of famous writers, to see where they got their ideas from. Did they spring fully formed from thin air, or was it a gradual process, a thought here and there scribbled on a napkin in a coffee shop and laboriously reworked for years, or maybe a combination of both. The whole creative process is a fascinating subject.

And what a wonderful thing it must be to be able to create a whole world out of nothing but your imagination – like J.K. Rowling did, not just once but seven times. Do writers have a more vivid imagination than other people? Are worry-worts more likely to be creative, having spent so much time dwelling in the world of “what if.” What makes one person more creative than others. Genetics? Practice? Or are we all creative beings, in one way or another? Can creativity be learned, or even analyzed or is it something that just is?

My children’s story was inspired by a number of things. Firstly, my frustrating “critter woes” this past August, and secondly by fellow blogger Linda’s tales of Parker, the squirrel in her neighborhood park, and our subsequent discussions of children’s books and the children’s television shows we had watched as kids. (see Walkin’,Writing’,Wit and Whimsy for Parker’s guest post).

The Famous Parker as painted by my mother…

In the eyes of a child, all animals are God’s creatures, great and small. It’s only adults who consider some of them vermin – a nuisance to be disposed of, of which I admit I am guilty as charged.

Sometimes a visual aid can spark an idea. While I was searching the basement for my old Seventeen magazines for the Woodstock blog, I came across a children’s book I used to read to my young niece when she visited the farm in the summers.

It was a Walt Disney abbreviated version of the children’s classic, The Wind in the Willows, and in the manner of small children everywhere who find a particular book fascinating, we would have to read it over and over again, night after night, until I’m sure I had the whole thing memorized. I don’t know what was so appealing to her – perhaps it was the gypsy-cart, or the motor car or the general reckless behavior of Mr. Toad who was always being rescued by his friends. Certainly as a city child, those rodent-type characters were not anything she would have encountered in real life. They weren’t even anything I ever encountered on the farm, as we had dogs and barn cats whose job it was to “take care of things like that”.

I’ve never read the full version of Wind in the Willows so don’t know how it compares, but there were more chapters and adventures in the original, as the Walt Disney book is a very condensed thirty or so pages. The copyright having expired, I suppose I’ve taken the liberty of adding another chapter, although the main characters in the book were Mole, Rat, Toad and McBadger, plus the Weasel Gang. It was written in 1908 by Kenneth Grahame (link), initially as a series of bedtime stories for his young son, and was inspired by his childhood spent along the river banks in England.

Flipping through the book that day, it was this fireside scene which helped me imagine my visitors, the vole below deck and the wasps above, all cozy in their respective nests. While I was entertaining on the deck I was also thinking about how my guests were unaware of all that unwanted company down below.

Perhaps Ally of The Spectacled Bean’s catchy title, It’s a Party in the Parsley about caterpillars, inspired the deck party? Definitely I was thinking about music, and my subconscious mind must have recalled reading Daisy Jones and the Six earlier this summer, and their struggle over whose name came first on the billing. But perhaps the true spark came from lying awake listening to the music from a street festival one holiday weekend, so loud I could hear the words of the songs from blocks away, long past midnight. I’m sure there was some Bruce Springsteen involved, and doesn’t that rap music often sound like a whole lot of droning going on!

I may have been thinking about children’s books, because I had been hearing lots of buzz recently about Tom Hanks playing Mr. Rogers (movie trailer below). What wonderful children’s programs we had back then. As a Canadian child I grew up watching Romper Room (Do Bee and Don’t Bees), Captain Kangaroo and a show called The Friendly Giant, who always placed miniature chairs around the fire for story time – here’s a chair for someone to curl up in and another rocking chair, before he asked you to look up, way up, and see the Friendly Giant. How calm and measured their voices were – so soothingly and reassuring to a small child. It looks like an interesting movie, but now the song “It’s A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood” is stuck in my brain!

Creativity is a strange and wonderful thing. Who knows what goes into any creative idea – it’s a mishmash of things we’ve heard or seen or remembered all jumbled up in our minds, and hopefully something beautiful or at least somewhat entertaining comes out of it all. The most important thing is to pay attention, write it down and have some fun.

PS I had such fun with this, I’m now working on a fairy tale, Once Upon a Kitchen Reno…

The Real Ending:

(not for the squeamish, but useful information if you ever have to deal with a wasp nest in your siding).

I’ll spare you the details of the vole’s demise as I could not watch. (My grasscutter whacked it over the head with a shovel). I have not seen any of his brethren lurking about, although the Pest Control man warned me there might be more as they reproduce like rabbits, but his company did not deal in voles. The bulb digging has stopped, but I’m hoping for a Polar Vortex Winter in case there are more. Should you have voles, HappyHauteHome has an informative post on How To Get Rid of Voles in Your Yard or Garden.

If you have a wasp nest in your siding call the exterminator right away. Do not tape up the entry hole as they will just find another way out and into your house. Wasps can chew through drywall and crawl up small spaces beside radiators and hot water heating pipes. Do not waste time buying useless sprays from the hardware store which will not reach the area involved and only have contact but no residual action. As the wasp nest cost $170 to spray with pesticide powder, I delayed until after Labor Day weekend thinking I could save money and do it myself, but it had grown so large over a mere three week period, that I have been stuck with the smell of decaying wasp larvae in my bedroom for weeks. The smell is so bad I’m still sleeping in the spare bedroom. Apparently this putrid odor is normal, especially if it’s a big nest. As the guys cleaning the mildew off the siding alerted me to the problem on Aug 16, I was surprised it got that big so quickly. (By the time they got to Woodstock they were half a million strong.) It smelt like dead rodents, to the extent that I wondered if the Vole Brothers had somehow managed to crawl into the space between the wall and the floorboards to party with their Waspy friends, although that would be impossible, wouldn’t it? (I’m in need of some reassurance here). I’m at a loss for what to do now as the exterminator advised me to just wait, as tearing up the floorboards or drilling into the wall trying to find the nest would be an expensive proposition requiring a contractor and most would not be interested in such a small job. Nor is it covered by insurance, although it would be if the nest has pushed the insulation aside and the pipes freeze. I can only hope that the weeks of unseasonably hot and humid weather we have been having will help accelerate the decaying process and it will be over before I have to turn my hot water furnace rads on.

The strangest thing was a few nights after I had quarantined the bedroom trying to air it out, there was a Hoot Owl outside the window – who, who, who.

I’m going to a Hootenanny…

If it hadn’t been 2 am I would have gone out and tried to get a picture of it, but the sound was enough to identify it. The Wikipedia people say Hoot owls prey on small animals so maybe they wanted a midnight vole snack (or maybe The Who was attracted by the foul stench and just dropped into Woodstock Revisited)! It’s certainly not a pleasant way to end the summer, and I hope never to have a repeat performance so I’m going to caulk silicon all around the house as an ounce of prevention. Has anyone else had problems with wasps or voles this year?

PS. I went to a country musical theatre production this past weekend – lots of square dancing and fiddle music, which got me thinking – there could be a book sequel at that hootenanny…

I’m going to a hootenanny…

We’re with the band…..

Plein Air Painting

September 18, 201950 Comments

Last Wednesday I joined a group of local artists for a plein air painting session. They meet once a week during the summer, always at a different location, (garden, park or water view), paint from 9:30 until noon, then break for lunch and social hour – and show and tell if you wish to participate. I did not, as my mother is the artist in the family. I was only there as the driver and unofficial brownie-baker. I never took art in high school, can’t draw a straight line and have no desire to learn. The few times I have attempted to paint I sit there with a clenched jaw, frustrated that the end result does not in any way resemble the vision in my head. My mother on the other hand, finds it pure bliss, and paints almost every day, although she has no formal training. Still, plein air painting looks like fun, if you enjoy dabbling with a brush.

Plein air is the act of painting outdoors. Artists have always worked outdoors, but in the mid-19th century, the en plein air approach became more popular as painting in natural light became important to groups such as the Barbizon school, Hudson River School, and Impressionists. In Canada, the Group of Seven and Tom Thomson are examples of en plein air artists. (Wikipedia source)

The invention of a portable box easel which held paint and palette, as well as the availability of paint in tubes, made this outdoor activity much more convenient. Previously oil paint was made from pigment powders mixed with linseed oil. As there was no photography to record a scene, if you wanted to paint a landscape you either conjured up the image in your head, or went straight to the source, be it harbor, garden, or field of wheat.

Impression, Sunrise – Monet

For the Impressionists, like Monet and Renoir, it was all about the Light. How the play of light affects and influences a painting was important to them, especially if you were lolling about in the south of France where the light is reported to be particularly inspiring. Imagine a sketching tour there!

Monet painted his famous Haystack series (25 paintings) after visiting a wheat field near his home at all hours, seasons and weather conditions, in order to capture the effect of different variations of light.

Haystacks Series – End of Summer – Monet

Below is my favorite Renoir painting – a testament to natural light, shade and color – plus it looks like a fun outing.

The Luncheon of the Boating Party – Renoir

No problem getting your friends to pose for hours if you ply them with enough food and drink and a boat ride down the Seine.

The Group of Seven were Canada’s first famous artists, painting outdoors in Algonquin Park in the early 1900’s. They would often take summer tours where they would do preliminary sketches in the great Canadian wilderness, then return to their studios to finish the work over the winter.

The Jack Pine – Tom Thomson

Our Canadian summer is almost over. It’s cooler now in September and nice weather can no longer be depended upon. This outing was the last of the year and an add-on for a session which was rained out earlier.

While not Monet’s famous garden,

Bridge over a Pond of Water Lilies – Monet

the park we visited is known for it’s gardens. I here to photograph the flowers, which are at their fall peak.

We arrive a bit late, as it’s a fair drive from home, and I’m not an early riser. These artists are all morning people, but I suppose it’s cooler then for painting in the summer. Today is overcast with a cold north wind, so we are all bundled up in sweaters and jackets. It’s a large park, basically deserted at mid-week, and the painters have already scattered along the paths and picked their solitary spots.

There’s a separate Zen garden with a tranquil waterfall but no one is painting there. Maybe it is too Zen?

I wander around the flower beds admiring the fall colors,

and stop to visit with several of the artists, marveling at their talent.

Most of the artists have been painting for years, but some, like my two friends, are relative beginners,

still learning the tools of the trade.

Watercolor and oil are best for painting outdoors, as acrylic dries too quickly in the hot sun.

At noon they break for lunch, (brownies anyone?) in a spot sheltered from the wind,

and afterwards, show and tell. They pass each painting around the circle and I’m totally intimidated by then.

And also grateful for that thermos of hot coffee.

One of the artists points out a white squirrel which frequents the park, so I pursue a picture, although I only have the zoom lens on my cell phone, so it’s not the best pixel-wise.

White squirrels may be albino (with red eyes), caused by a mutation of a pigmentation gene, or they may be a very rare variant of eastern gray squirrels. He was a strange sight – and definitely an antidote to all that color.

After lunch, I’m in desperate need of a nap. All that fresh air is so tiring – makes you sleep like a baby – maybe I will dream in technicolor?

PS. Although it was an enjoyable day, I think I’ll stick with my writing gig for now.

A Garden Teacup Craft Party

September 11, 201928 Comments

Making a garden teacup is a perfect excuse for having a group of friends over and a nice way to spend one of the last summer-like afternoons on the deck. You can have a tea party after, and best part is they can brag about what they made. Think of it as having the guests make their own party favors!

Teacups were once the sign of a civilized age and household. I remember my American aunt coming up for visits in the summer and one of the first places she would want to go would be a china shop to add to her collection, because tea cups were used back then, not just for show. I cringe now to think that I once gave my sister a bridal shower where everyone was asked to bring a tea cup as a gift – I thought it was a good idea, as she already had everything else. My mother had a set of good china, white with gold rims, which she used for holiday dinners, but she didn’t have enough matching teacups, so out would come the fancy teacups for coffee, tea and dessert. Each one would have a different pattern, color and style. Even the guys would drink their coffee in them, and what grandchild wasn’t pleased to be served a milky brew in a real china cup just like the grown-ups. I have a few of these special ones left, which I would not part with as they hold memories as well as tea.

Although I still occasionally use tea cups, and have a very pretty set with a matching teapot, I know I am in the minority. We are a mug society now.

We all have teacups collecting dust – they may be a collection we have inherited from our mother or grandmother, but even if you live like Downton Abbey, there are only so many tea cups you can use and the thrift shops are full of donated cups. So this simple and inexpensive craft is a nice idea to put them to good use.

Garden tea cups can hold a tea light, birdseed or water for a mini bird bath. I have seen the birds enjoying mine on occasion after a rainstorm. I have also given them as small homemade gifts. I made two for a friend who was retiring and loves to garden, a stop and smell the roses pink one, and one with the bluebird of happiness on it. Now that they have been popular for awhile you can find them at art and craft fairs everywhere, but I bought my first one in the gift shop of an art gallery several years ago. It was expensive at $25, but I fell in love with it as it was so pretty and blue, my favorite color. The woman selling it very kindly told me how to make my own – for a lot less money.

These are the craft supplies, and price-wise it works out to be less than $5.

You can have your guests bring their own special teacup, or supply them with ones from a thrift shop, or donate some of your own. I buy long half-inch diameter copper rods at the hardware store, and because I am a frequent customer there, one of the employees cuts them for me in the length I desire. I use a 12 inch length for planters, and longer ones for placing in the ground among the plants.

I also buy matching short half-inch ends the same width as the rod which will be glued onto the bottom of the saucer to hold the rod.

Using a piece of rough abrasive paper (grit cloth as below) or sandpaper, rough up the bottom of the saucer in the middle, and also the same area underneath the saucer. This makes the glue adhere better.

This Goop glue was recommended to me, but you can use any kind which bonds china or ceramic.

Using a Q-Tip apply some glue to the bottom of the teacup and place it in the centre of the saucer, wiping up any excess glue around the bottom rim. If you wish you can also glue a tiny teaspoon on, as an added decoration, but I found they tarnished quickly as most are silver. These can be found at thrift shops for pennies. Let it set for a few minutes – perhaps go and put the kettle on for your tea.

Turn the bonded teacup and saucer upside down, and apply the end piece to the bottom of the saucer with a bit of glue, and set the whole thing aside for the rest of the afternoon. Leave it upside down, preferably for 24 hours. The next day you can insert the copper rod and turn it right side up and place in your planter for the birds to enjoy.

While it is setting, you can continue on with the food and beverage portion of your tea party. This craft takes very little time, perhaps thirty minutes at most, depending on how long you spend roughing up the china and waiting for it to set.

After the tea party…

See how the late afternoon shadows are slanting as the sun loses it’s warmth. Summer’s over, but at least everyone has a lovely souvenir to take home as a memory of a fun party and something useful for next year’s garden.

PS. Continuing with our September theme, this is the craft portion of Arts and Crafts (because wasn’t that always one of our favorite parts of back to school). See Plein Air Painting next week for the arts portion.

A Colorful End to Summer

September 4, 2019October 2, 201991 Comments

I was looking at my big fat beefsteak tomatoes the other day and it struck me how very green they were, so I thought I would do a photo essay of summer ending – by color. Color my world – just like we used to back in grade school, with the big 64 pack of Crayolas. I just happened to have a box with my craft supplies in the basement and they have the same waxy smell I remember.

The Crayola company first began selling crayons in 1903 and since then they have made over 200 distinctive colors. (Wikipedia link) Although many of the original colors are still around, I believe they are a bit more inventive with the names now, so I’ve decided to help them out, (see brackets).

The very green tomatoes. (Lean Green Tomato Machine, because what tomato plant isn’t this time of year)

The purple clematis is blooming. (Purple Rain, as in the Rock Star Formally Known as Prince).

The neighbors yellow Black-Eyed Susans nodding hello over the fence, (so very Mellow-Yellow).

The orange tones of fresh summer fruit – melons, nectarines and peaches. (Fruit Salad Palette)

Ripening tomatoes. (Red Hot Salsa)

The Last of the Pinks. This Dipladenia was the best plant I bought this summer, water and drought resistant (we had both) and no deadheading. It’s still hanging in there as if it was in the tropics, which it felt like some days. (Caribbean Dream Pink).

The first bouquet of fall flowers – yellow and green and pink.

White for the clouds of late summer, towering and cumulus, but looking fall-like. (Cumulus Cloud White)

Blue for the water and sky and sailboats. (The original Sky Blue can’t be beat).

And beige for the sand and the last trip to the beach. (Sandblaster Beige)

Let’s say goodbye to the last (Psychedelic Sunset) over the lake.

The first signs of fall are already here – the sound of crickets at night, sometimes on the hearth – the first drift of wood smoke in the air – the maple tree with it’s leaves dipped in paint – that first chilly morning when you have to reach for your chenille housecoat and it’s not because of the A/C – and that dreadful/wonderful/your pick pumpkin spice which saturates the season!

Class dismissed – put the crayons away and go outside and play while the sun is still high in the sky! (Sky High Blue-Green)

PS. Red for the apple for the teacher and for the harvest coming in at the farmer’s market. Speaking of farmer’s markets, I’ll be doing a restaurant review soon on a locally sourced Harvestfest Dinner (link) – so get your forks ready to join me. I hear there will be pie – as in (Very Cherry Red)!

The Literary Salon – Quiet – A Book for Introverts

August 28, 2019August 30, 201922 Comments

One of the most common remarks that I read from bloggers on here, is that she/he is an introvert. Writers tend to be introverts, with a few exceptions, Hemingway being one, but then maybe he was just an extrovert when he’d had a few too many. Writing requires introspection, and some peace and quiet. Your mind be busy and your thoughts multiplying faster than you can get them down, but outwardly you are silent. Although this book is not a new release (it was a best-seller in 2012 and won numerous awards), I thought it would be a good selection for this month’s literary salon, if only to provide food for thought as summer is winding down and our noisy busy lives resume.

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking – by Susan Cain – 2012

Publishers Blurb

“At least one-third of the people we know are introverts. They are the ones who prefer listening to speaking; who innovate and create but dislike self-promotion; who favor working on their own over working in teams. It is to introverts—Rosa Parks, Chopin, Dr. Seuss, Steve Wozniak—that we owe many of the great contributions to society.

In Quiet, Susan Cain argues that we dramatically undervalue introverts and shows how much we lose in doing so. She charts the rise of the Extrovert Ideal throughout the twentieth century and explores how deeply it has come to permeate our culture. She also introduces us to successful introverts–from a witty, high-octane public speaker who recharges in solitude after his talks, to a record-breaking salesman who quietly taps into the power of questions. Passionately argued, superbly researched, and filled with indelible stories of real people, Quiet has the power to permanently change how we see introverts and, equally important, how they see themselves.”

About the Author:

A self-proclaimed introvert, Susan Cain is an honors graduate of Princeton and Harvard Law School and spent seven years working in corporate law for prestigious clients, then worked as a negotiations consultant before quitting to become a writer. In addition to her two best-sellers (Quiet 2012 and Quiet Power: The Secret Strengths of Introverts 2016), her writing has been published in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal and many other publications, and her TED talk on the same theme has been viewed over 23 million times. She is co-founder of the Quiet Schools Network and The Quiet Leadership Institute. All in all, a very impressive resume – it tired me out just reading about all her accomplishments, and this is just the shortened version – although she attributes all she has achieved to being an introvert. I did note that it took her seven years to research and write the book.

My Goodreads Review:

Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can’t Stop Talking by Susan Cain

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

As an introvert, I really enjoyed this book, especially the last chapter which was addressed to schools and teachers, but then I was the child whose otherwise stellar report card always included the derogatory comment, “Joni fails to participate in class.” Vindicated – Introverts now Rule!

Why I Liked The Book: (see review above)

It’s been so long since I read this book that I can’t remember specific details about it, but it made me feel that introverts were finally being heard and valued for the first time, in a world which basically worships extroverts. Most of our public leaders, CEOs and politicians are extroverts – anyone who can talk a good game is often successful, justified or not, in a world which often values style over substance. These are the people who take up all the space in the room, grab all the attention and never lack for anything to say. But do they ever stop to listen? Introverts tend to be the best listeners, and often make the best bosses because they listen, ask questions and weigh all the factors before they decide or speak. They tend to observe and remember things about others, and usually make great conversationalists, a rare trait in this all-about-me world. They are often creative souls as creativity requires solitude. Introverts are generally undervalued in today’s society, so I enjoyed reading a book which pointed all that out and felt a certain degree of vindication. (Not to knock extroverts though, parties would be dull without them!) Here’s a Wikipedia link with a breakdown of the chapters and principles involved.

Introverts would much rather stay home and read a good book than go out to a social event, but usually enjoy themselves when they do. The would rather have a good conversation with one person, than many superficial ones at a crowded party. They enjoy their own company, and like being with others, but usually need alone time after socializing, in order to recharge.

I’ve always been a quiet person, a result of genes, being a middle child and growing up in a fairly isolated rural environment. I was a quiet kid who turned into a quiet adult. I might have gone into journalism as I love a good story, only I and others (like the high school guidance counselor) thought I was too quiet. (But then they ruined my plan of being a girl detective too!)

I was a details person, as quiet people often are, and was well suited to my career where for decades I had a comfortable level of interaction with people. Working forced me to become more extroverted, and I was good at it, (no one would know as I can talk for hours if I have to, it’s an Irish thing), but it can be exhausting being an introvert in many jobs today. Like many work places, mine was eventually subject to downsizing, staff cuts and quotas and my enjoyable job turned into a stressful one, where I was under constant pressure and seeing way too many people – as those Facebook memes say, it was too peoply out there. I like people, in small doses, but after a day of people in big doses I would come home so overstimulated and drained it would take hours to decompress. I needed lots of down time. (I suppose if you are an extrovert who works at home all day you might want to go out at night and see people, but I have to wonder if the author’s change of careers was precipitated by her marriage and raising young children – those little cling-ons require lots of energy). Plus there is a level of rudeness and impatience in society today which was not there in my earlier working years. So if you ask me what I miss about not working, it’s the people, (most of them quite wonderful), but then again, it’s not. If you’re an introvert, you’ll know what I mean.

Introverts often have an easier time with retirement, as they are used to spending time alone, content in their own company and many retirement activities – gardening, reading, painting, are solitary pursuits. I guess if you are an extrovert you fill your schedule with volunteering or run for public office or travel the world on bus tours. While no one wants to be lonely or turn into a hermit, it’s nice to have a balance between the two which is consistent with your level of introversion or extroversion whatever it might be. (People who fall near the middle of the spectrum are called ambiverts).

Do they still make kids do public speaking in school? It was always a dreaded activity for me. Oh, I could write the speech, but my voice is soft and I can’t hear you would be the usual comment. Introverts do not like being the centre of attention, hence the dislike of public speaking – hard to avoid unless your speech is so boring the audience falls asleep! I would hope that teachers are better trained now to value introverts as well as extroverts. As for those report card comments, it was always the word – “failed” which bothered me. As if failure to raise your hand and participate was a crime, instead of merely being the innate personality trait it is, belonging to that of a quiet soul.

PS. As this is an older book, libraries may have a copy. It’s a fairly long but interesting read, but if you lack the time, here’s a link to the author’s TED talk.

Upon re-watching the TED talk again (20 minutes), I highly recommend it – some very excellent points, especially about solitude and creativity. I especially liked that it opened with the author talking about social activity in her family being everyone all together in their comfortable corners, reading their books. Obviously she grew up in a family of introverts, but her talk/book also has an important message for extroverts trying to understand their introvert spouses (opposites attract!) and children.

Woodstock Revisited

August 21, 2019September 9, 201968 Comments

They say that being a senior is just like being a teenager again, only you have more money. You have no responsibilities, don’t have to work and can stay up late and party all night, if you wish. While many of the today’s younger seniors may remember Woodstock, you definitely know you’re getting older when a local retirement home holds a Woodstock 50th anniversary night and you agree to go because your neighbor has free tickets and it would be a shame to waste a nice meal. My mother agrees to go with us, although neither of us really remembers Woodstock. My neighbor has more recollection of it, but I feel like I missed the whole hippy era, as at almost 13, I was just a bit too young and by the time I was old enough to peace out, disco had arrived. While I remember much of the music from the era, I was more into the clean-cut Monkees than the Beatles, who had by then morphed into those long haired dudes strolling across Abbey Road. My mother was a forty-something housewife back then who only listened to our music because the radio was on in the morning while we were getting ready for school, but I’m sure the station got changed as soon as we left for the bus.

For those of you younger folk who may be unfamiliar, Woodstock was a famous music festival held on a dairy farm in upstate New York in Aug 1969, which attracted almost half a million young people and which became a symbol of the hippy era. It rained over the three days, people camped and slept outdoors in the mud and listened to music and generally a peaceful groovy time was had by all. Surprisingly there was no violence, considering the size of the crowd, but then the mood was mellow-yellow.

Peace, Love and Fame!

(The couple in this iconic photo of the era, which first appeared on the Woodstock album cover, got married a few years later and are now seventy years old. In a recent interview they said they didn’t even recall the photo being taken because they had just woken up. Here’s a link to more on their story.)

Woodstock had a music lineup of some of the best rock and roll groups of the time. A friend of mine has a copy of the original festival poster, with the band playlist. She was on her way to the show with a group of friends, complete with camping gear, when for reasons she doesn’t remember, they turned around and came back to Canada. Most likely it was due to the negative publicity at the beginning – the drugs, the rain, the traffic, the lack of washroom facilities etc. As she later went on to work in the music industry, she recalls it as one of the regrets of her life. Here’s the playlist.

Of the groups who played, I only remember Creedence Clearwater Revival CCR (Bad Moon Rising), Blood Sweat and Tears (And When I Die), Janis Joplin (Me and Bobby McGee), Jefferson Airplane (White Rabbit, Somebody to Love), Santana (Evil Ways), and Sly and the Family Stone (Hot Fun in the Summer Time). While I recognize some of the others, (Joan Baez, Arlo Guthrie, Jimi Hendrix), I don’t recall what they sang, so Linda over at Walking,Writing,Wit and Whimsy (who has a great Woodstock post), shared this link with me,where you can check out the songs each band played at the venue. https://www.woodstock.com/lineup/ The site also has some great photos and videos, and man do those kids look young, as do the performers. Of course that was in the day when we didn’t trust anyone over thirty.

Many of the musicians who were asked to play, turned it down, (The Doors, The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Chicago, The Moody Blues, Simon and Garfunkel) and have expressed regret, including Joni Mitchell, who went on to write this famous song, after seeing the news clips on TV.

I was surprised to read that the music went on so late, but being out in the country there were no noise bylaws, although I’m sure the neighboring towns weren’t too thrilled about the sudden descent of half a million hippies. John Fogerty of CCR, remarked that most of the fans were asleep on the muddy ground by the time they went on at 3am, so he played to one guy way at the back, who was flicking a Bic lighter. (Wikipedia link)

Imagine hosting that kind of party today, half a million people united by music, singing in peace and harmony.

Not likely to happen – there’s too much violence in the world now. The organizers of the 50th anniversary bash ended up cancelling. (Sorry Jay Z and Miley Cyrus, no soggy fields for you, although I’m not sure why you got invited in the first place). There will never be another Woodstock. There was however a smaller anniversary gig held in Bethel Woods, with performances by Arlo Guthrie, John Fogerty and Carlos Santana, who were all there at the first one – what a trip that must have been for them to play again at the same site so many years later.

But back to my Woodstock party….

So maybe it was a good thing the retirement home stepped in to fill the void – keeping the flame alive for all us aging hippies. (I believe they are called hipsters now if Taylor Swift lyrics are correct).

This particular retirement home is a bit of a white elephant, the product of a poorly developed plan hatched by some company in Toronto where the rest of their buildings are located and fully occupied. It opened several years ago, and fewer than 25% of the units are rented. I’m not sure who it’s actually marketed for, as many in this small town could not afford the high prices, most seventy somethings would want more space (the apartments are very small), and the over-eighty crowd who might inhabit such a place, might need some medical help of which there is none available. But I give them A for effort, as they are trying hard to fill it up. One of their marketing ploys is to offer community events and free dinner tickets to anyone who might have expressed even the slightest bit of interest. (My friend went to a yoga class there. They even sent my mother a Christmas gift in the mail – a puzzle of one of her art works). They host monthly theme nights, Roaring Twenties, Casino, Neil Diamond, and while older people in the community might support the events, it seems no one actually wants to live there.

There is a big atrium, like in a fancy hotel, wasted space, but it’s supposed to be a social area. A perfect spot for a sit in or a love-in or at least a free buffet with some folk music.

I have a hard time deciding what to wear, and have to visit the basement and unearth a few old Seventeen magazines to refresh my memory of the clothes of the era. I found the magazines in the attic when my mother moved off the farm. They’re from 1970, the summer I entered high school, when I must have been worried about looking hip, although why I don’t know, as we wore uniforms, other than the first Friday of the month which was Dress Up Day.

Dig those blue tinted shades!

Back then, Seventeen magazine came in the the big twelve-inch size format, like Life and Look magazines. The ads alone were a trip down memory lane. We seemed to be consumed with lightening our hair (Sun-In, Lemon Go Lightly), darkening our tans (Coppertone, Johnson’s Baby Oil, Sea and Ski, Noxzema), and wearing blue eye shadow (Bonne Bell, Yardley, Max Factor).

But back to the fashions, and the all important question, when Jupiter aligns with Mars will you be dressed for it?

You will if you sew your own threads!

That song was far out – Aquarius – by the Fifth Dimension.

In the fashion pages, we wore bell bottoms, embroidered peasant shirts and gauzy skirts, mini skirts, maxi skirts, tie-dye, leather sandals, headbands, love beads, rose or blue tinted granny glasses and anything with fringe.

Model Susan Dey before The Partridge Family and L.A. Law

And don’t forget the flower for your hair, preferably a daisy.

The song San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair) was written by John Phillips of The Mamas & the Papas,to promote the Monterey Pop Festival in 1967. It also gave birth to the flower-child movement and the phrase flower-power.

At age ten, I remember being annoyed when my first pair of bell bottoms got caught in the spokes of my bike, but later being quite envious of my grade eight teachers mini skirts and especially her long black maxi coat. By high school short skirts were all the rage even in Canada, and my mother, who made our navy uniforms, made them short, but we still rolled them shorter, until the nuns caught you out. By grade eleven she had given in, but it does make me cringe now looking my high school year book that they were that short. I believe the nuns had given up by then too. One year hot pants were in, but not part of the uniform. The nuns would have fainted at that. I had a pair I wore under a matching mini dress. By grade twelve we were allowed to wear navy pants, but nobody did as jeans were in, wide and flared by then.

But back to party prep….(which as I recall was often the best part of a night out).

I found a pink cotton embroidered shirt, last worn fifteen years ago, in the back of a closet, and piled on some beads and bracelets. As luck would have it, I had also found a suede necklace with a peace symbol at an outdoor craft show the weekend before, a bargain at $10.

Finishing touch, some dangling feather earrings. I had a problem with my gold chain headband, as I have bangs and it did not sit quite right. Alas, I did not have any bell bottom blue jeans, faded or otherwise, as in this famous Cat Stevens song, so regular skinny jeans had to do. (How is it that I now own only one pair of jeans, which I admit haven’t been worn in two years, and seemed a bit snug, but isn’t that why yoga pants were invented).

The residents really got into the spirit of the evening. There were prizes for best costumes and I got some great ideas should I decide to resurrect my hippy costume for Halloween. Daisy chain headbands, flowing caftans, ponchos, embroidered jean jackets, with most of the guys looking like cool cats in their bandannas. Obviously, many of these people had lived through the era, and had a better idea than I did. Someone had tie-died some white sheets to hang as a backdrop behind the stage. As my only memory of tie-dye was a blue and white t-shirt which came out uneven, I had no idea it could be so colorful.

Unfortunately, after Bad Moon rising, the musician/guitar player wandered into the wrong decade and stayed there, as I’m sure Tequila Sunrise and Margaritaville were not played at Woodstock. His final nod to the sixties was Love Potion Number Nine, when really it was Diovol I needed, as the food was – well the polite word might be – institutionalized. Can you dig it? No I could not, and this is coming from someone who ate hospital food for years way better than that. Unlike the original Woodstock, no drugs were allowed, well at least no psychedelic ones. Although marijuana is legal now in Canada and they are even trialing it in nursing homes for pain control (don’t get me started), there was none in evidence. Thank God, smoking inside buildings is not allowed.

As parties go, it ended fairly early, but I was tired (one of the disadvantages of getting older is you can stay out all night but you don’t want to), and this hippy-chick was happy to go home to my nice comfy bed and grateful I did not have to sleep out in the mud with half a million other people. While not quite as exciting as the first Woodstock, it was a fun happening. Maybe they can do it again in another fifty years and invite the Rolling Stones – they’ll be 125 and on their final world tour.

PS. In these strange and tumultuous times, maybe we need to be reminded of those famous slogans, “Make Love, Not War” and “Give Peace a Chance.”

PS. Do you remember Woodstock and the hippy era? Do you remember any of the fashions and music?

PS. I think we had much better music back then, a lot of which is still listened to today. I may be showing my age, but I have a dislike for much of the current music scene, especially rap, which I feel is totally lacking in lyrics and melody. I listen to classic rock, oldies but goodies stations, and even the really old classics like Sinatra and the Big Band era. Younger readers, how do you feel about your generation’s music versus the older stuff? Do you think it will have staying power? I read recently that Drake has now surpassed the Beatles record of eleven number one hits in a single year/album, but I could not tell you one single song Drake song, or Beyonce or Justin Beiber for that matter – I guess I have turned into my mother and just change the station!

The Tall Ships

August 15, 2019August 15, 201931 Comments

The Tall Ships have come and gone, sailing away on a south wind and lots of good cheer, as the Gordon Lightfoot song goes. They have spent the summer visiting ports along the Great Lakes and were in my vicinity for the weekend, attracting 100,000 visitors in the process. You could purchase general admission day and weekend passes, as well as boarding passes that included deck tours, but as I am not a fan of big crowds or standing in long line ups in the sweltering heat, I viewed them from afar on Friday afternoon – along with thousands of other people lining the shore with the same idea!

Among the six ships in dock, was The Bluenose II, a famous Nova Scotia ship, and my favorite, the Nao Santa Maria, the flagship from the 1492 voyage Christopher Columbus made when he discovered North America.

Photo courtesy of Nao Santa Maria Facebook page

This replica was built in Spain to celebrate the 525^th anniversary of the discovery of the new world and has spent the past two years touring various ports of call on this side of the Atlantic. (The Nao Santa Maria has it’s own Facebook page if you wish to check if it will be in your area).

We probably all remember the grade school rhyme, “In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue,” and we may remember the three ships on that famous voyage, the Santa Maria, the Nina and the Pinta, but I was unaware that the Santa Maria did not make the return journey home as it had run aground on a sandbar in Hispaniola/Haiti on Christmas Day 1492.

Shipwreck!

Here’s a link with more description about the three ships, and also a Wikipedia link with some information about the design, cargo, and the voyage. As the largest of the three, the Santa Maria was the main cargo ship, carried the most men, 52 of the 90, and was considered an old tub too unwieldy to navigate river mouths and shallow bays, which was left to the smaller faster Pinta. Columbus had struggled for years to obtain financing for his project (searching for a sea route to the far east and the treasures of Cathay), until the Queen of Spain reluctantly granted approval for the journey. How overjoyed they must have been to have sighted land and being proven right, even though they were unaware at the time that it was a whole other unexplored continent.

Ahoy mates! Land ahead! (Photo from Nao Santa Maria Facebook page)

Can you imagine travelling across the ocean in that for two months?

I had anticipated the opening Parade of Ships to be a glorious sight to behold – a beautiful sunny day, blue sky and water, white sails billowing in the breeze. While the weather was okay (coolish, sunny but lots of clouds), there was such a brisk north breeze, it wasn’t really a Parade of Sails, it was a Parade of Masts!

The water was so dark and choppy, I had to lighten my pictures to be able to see anything, plus a cloud managed to obscure the sun every time a ship went by. One of the crew was quoted as saying the sails were not up for safety reasons, as the river channel was too deep and narrow to allow much maneuverability, and it was too windy and rough once they got out on the lake. Plus, it wasn’t really a parade, as there were long gaps between the appearance of one ship and the next. We chatted and visited with fellow sightseers, many of whom had driven great distances, and ate french fries from chip trucks under the bridge, which is one of the touristy things to do in this town. This is the first ship which came along, although I don’t know the name, as I was too far away to see.

Several were so tall, we watched in awe as they barely cleared the bridge.

For $120 you could go on board for a two hour cruise during the Parade of Sails, which was sold out, as were all the more reasonably priced ($85 and $60) morning and evening cruises where the proceeds went to charity. I suspect the lack of sails was a liability issue also, as they wouldn’t want to risk anything with all those VIP’s and tourists aboard, especially if they were puking all over the nicely polished wooden decks.

I had a moment of regret, when the Empire Sandy went past. It looked like such fun, and I don’t usually get seasick on boats, having been on cruise ships, ferries and even a small motorboat.

But then I remembered the five days I spend on a Windjammer cruise in the Caribbean, back in my younger years, when I could more easily be talked into such things. I’ve learned my lesson, while something might sound romantic and adventurous, the reality often doesn’t match up. (Plus I require much more luxury in my vacations now). I distinctly remember arriving in St. Marten’s and gazing at the small vessel in the harbor and thinking – no that could not possibly be it. Nothing so small could hold 160 passengers and crew. It did, except for the two who got off at the first stop and flew home, thus saving themselves four more days of misery. Everyone on the boat was sea-sick the first 24 hours – the captain explained that was normal because the stretch from St. Martens to St. Kitt’s was notoriously rough. (Well if that was the case, then why didn’t they depart from a port with calmer waters?) He said most people were okay after the first day. Many were not. He said, stare at the horizon. It didn’t help. Better to be above deck, than below. It wasn’t. Have some more booze. I don’t drink. While the cabins were so small as to be claustrophobic, the rocking of the ship was somewhat comforting when you were tucked up in your bunk bed at night. I tried not to think about the fact that only a foot of timber separated me from the watery depths. The food was okay, if you could eat it. (The dry crackers were highly recommended). We visited St. Bart’s and a private island for a picnic and scuba diving which was a welcome break. On Day 3, I applied one of those anti-nausea patches behind my ear – upon awakening on Day 4, I removed it, after walking into a wall and being told my pupils looked strangely dilated. (Most fixed-dose drugs are not for me, as I am a featherweight). Night 5 was particularly rough again, the rocking cradle turned into a see-saw, invoking a few prayers. I was never so glad to see dry land again, and practically kissed the ground at the hotel. The only good thing about the whole trip was the two days of shopping and restaurants in St. Marten’s capital city. The only good thing about the ship was there was plenty of hot water in the showers, and they played Amazing Grace on deck in the evening when they unfurled the sails, a nice romantic ritual. (Funny, I don’t remember the sails being raised during the day, probably too many drunken tourists about who might fall overboard). Thank God a wretch like me was saved – but I swore never to set foot on a sailing ship again!

It may be exhilarating to be on board when the wind grabs the sails, but sailing is only for more adventurous souls, with strong stomachs. For the rest of us, the Tall Ships are a pretty sight, best viewed from the safety of the shore.

(photo courtesy of the Tall Ships Festival Facebook site)

Postscript: Like the best of all plans, Columbus started small, with old ships. News of his new world discovery spread quickly throughout Europe, so on his second voyage, he was given a fleet of 17 ships, with 1,200 men and the supplies needed to establish permanent colonies in the New World. Which just goes to show how any new venture can start with one small step, which with a bit of luck and a favorable south wind, can turn into something much larger.

The Subject Was Knock-Out Roses

August 8, 2019August 12, 201968 Comments

The Knock-Out Roses are blooming again, starting into their second cycle of the summer. While never as showy as the initial blooming, they are still a welcome sight, a bright spot of color among the withered baskets and dried up lawns of early August.

If you want a low maintenance, easy to grow rose then Knock-Out Roses are the rose of choice. I have 24 of these rose bushes and it was one of the best garden investments I’ve ever made.

At $20 per pot for the pink double ones I’ve had ten years of beauty from them.

If you are not familiar with the family of Knock Out Roses they were created by rose breeder Bill Radler in 2000 and were a hit right from the start. Traditionally roses have had the reputation of being finicky plants, hard to establish and prone to disease, requiring lots of tender loving care.

Knock-Outs have become popular because they are basically no-care and disease resistant, but the biggest appeal for me was they are repeat bloomers. After a glorious initial bloom in mid-late June here, they will repeat the blooming cycle every 5-6 weeks. New growth on the bushes is seen as red shoots/leaves. One year when we had a particularly late fall, I had roses up until December – they looked quite strange with a dusting of snow on them.

Well more than a dusting….

They are also self-cleaning in the sense that there is no need to dead head them, although you can if you wish. I spray mine with the garden hose on jet when they start to look too shaggy. They are also heat tolerant and do well in most hot sunny locations, requiring 6-8 hours of sun a day. The two I planted on either side of the house do not generally do as well as the others as they do not get enough sun, likewise several at the back which are in the shadow of the house.

Made in the Shade

Although that is not true this year, as we have had horrible heat close to 100 for days, so the ones in the shade are doing better than the rest. We also had a late cool rainy spring with little sun, so the bushes have failed to achieve their usual height. I should point out that most of these pictures are from previous years, lest anyone think I have created miracles during this weird weather year.

They also don’t need much water, so as they are the perfect plant-them-and-forget-them rose, especially important if you are a lazy gardener like me who hates to drag the hose around.

As tall as the shepherds hook

Pruning and height: I prune mine back to about 12 inches in early spring, although last year I misjudged and pruned in late March then we had two more weeks of wintry cold, so I learned my lesson and waited this year. If no pruning is done, they can reach 3 to 4 feet wide and 3 to 4 feet tall, and some years I have achieved this when we had a milder spring and a good growing season. Although they may be shorter than usual this year due to our poor spring, they still have plenty of buds on them.

This year’s shorter bush

Caring and fertilizing: I give them a dose of bone meal in spring and a sprinkle of controlled release fertilizer and that’s it. The website suggests some winter protection in colder climates, but the year I blanketed them with a layer of fallen leaves, was also the year I noticed a lot of blackspot on the stems the following spring. The nursery owner suggested I forego the leaf layer and spray them with horticultural oil to treat/prevent any fungal disease, which I do now every spring. I do mulch them, but other than that they have survived our brutal Canadian winters, although this year I was a bit afraid as the stems were so late greening up and looked so dry and brittle for weeks, but they eventually came along….sigh of relief.

Here’s the company’s website, with a page of FAQ’s – link.

There are ten colors. I have the Double Pink Knock-Outs, as I love bright pink and when I bought the first lot the nursery owner suggested keeping the color the same if I wanted to make a statement. The Double blooms are fuller and put on a nicer show, so I always recommend the doubles. Unfortunately three of the Doubles I bought a few years later came out as singles, despite the silver grower tags on them stating double – liars!

I really wish they had climbers, but they only have shrub roses so far. They do have a tree rose, which stands about 6 feet, but at $90 I found it hard to justify when I have so many others and being a small tree, I wondered how it would over-winter here?

Knock Out Rose Tree

Of course there’s always a gardening mishap or two. One year some unidentifiable slug (I was never able to capture one), started munching on the bushes on the west side of the yard and managed to steadily eat their way along the whole row. I was busy with work and by the time I noticed it was too late – they had decimated six bushes.

2015 was not a good year!

Although I tried everything – soap, powder, washing them off with the hose – they continued their stealthy munch munch munch. But the next spring they bounced back, good as new.

Although they are bred to be disease resistant, a few years ago Rose Rosette Disease (also known as Witches Broom), started attacking the Knock Outs in some parts of the United States (see Southern Living article), but it hasn’t affected mine so far. Knock on wood that it never moves this far north, but if does, then it’s game over and they all have to be dug up and discarded. Best to check with your local nursery to see if this virus, spread by mites via wind, is a problem in your area before buying.

While I do have other roses – an ancient climber,

with prolific blooms,

This years abundant blooms.

and a ‘John Cabot’ climber, (also very short this year due to the difficult spring), the Knock-Outs remain my favorites.

So if you are looking for an easy care rose which will provide beauty all summer long, these are the roses to pick!

PS. An old oil painting of my mothers.

Roses in a Vase

No Day At The Beach

August 1, 201929 Comments

When something is not fun, the colloquial expression, “It was no day at the beach” comes to mind. Similar to “it was no picnic” or “not exactly a walk in the park” it denotes a situation which may be difficult to deal with – which is exactly what I discovered the first time I went to the beach this summer.

I had not been earlier because of the kitchen reno and the hot/humid/rainy weather. Although I can’t sit in the sun anymore I try and go at least a couple of times a year to take pictures and spend a relaxing afternoon with a book, but as it’s some distance for me, there never seemed to be a good day to pack up the beach stuff. We’re lucky we have beautiful beaches here and very blue water, but the truth is we don’t take advantage of them as often as we should.

Finally one day when I was running errands in town, (there always seems to be time for errands), I took a detour – as it was such a nice sunny bright-blue-sky- with-a-breeze day, it was a shame to waste it. I thought I would sit in the car and enjoy a coffee and snack and watch the sailboats for awhile.

Except….

What the heck happened to the beach?

It seemed to have disappeared. My usual spot, with the tree I usually sat under, consisted of a mere few feet of shoreline.

As the waterline was almost up to it’s roots, my beach blanket would have been swamped.

Before, you could walk out past the end of the groyne and still be in waist high water.

Now, the groynes were buried under water and considerably shorter.

At least half of the stretch of sand was missing, although it was better at the other end.

There is still a strip of sand in front of the parking lot, where they have placed boulders to prevent people from driving on the beach, but the beach down below has eroded considerably.

They have made some effort the past few years to protect the remaining sand by growing dune grass, but it was still a shock to see how much had washed away.

The lake levels are about a foot higher than they normally are and beaches all along the Great Lakes basin have experienced erosion and flooding this year. I shouldn’t have been surprised by the state of our beach, as driving down river earlier in the summer I noticed the same thing with the river level. Some of the boat ramps were closed because the river water had come up over the breakwall and flooded the parking lots.

And some docks were under or near level with the water. If I had expensive river or lakefront property I would be worried – another foot and the dock will just disappear.

The five interconnected Great Lakes make up the largest body of fresh water in the world. Although they say their water levels rise and fall in a cyclic fashion according to the prevailing weather patterns, I have never seen the water so high here. About ten years ago we were coping with the opposite – low levels exposing beaches and shipwrecks offshore which had never been seen before. It seems it has become a world of weather extremes. Although most of the problems with high levels and flooding in the Great Lakes can be attributed to the excessive rainfall this year, it does make you worry about global warming and the polar ice caps melting. Here’s a link to an article from The Weather Channel with more information on potential causes.

No matter what you may think about climate change, this sad sight, coupled with our brutally cold winters of late, and our prolonged rainy springs and hot humid summers, with all the torrential downpours and violent storms everywhere – it does make you wonder – are we ruining our planet?

Hey what happened to the beach?

If things continue beaches may become a thing of the past, a relic portrayed in paintings and photographs.

The Beachcomber

And life-guarding will become an obsolete occupation.

Perhaps it is not too late to take action?

Postscript: The Lake Huron Centre for Coastal Conservation has been advertising for “Coast Watchers”. These community volunteers help the Goderich-based centre monitor conditions along the Lake Huron shoreline and collect scientific data for a long term monitoring program. Last year they had 130 applicants, whose job it is to monitor a specific stretch of coast line once a week, from May to October, and record data such as wave height, temperature and wind speed. Another general observation group monitors for algae bloom, significant garbage wash-ups or spills, and rare birds or a species at risk. The Goderich-based centre was formed two decades ago with the goals of protecting and restoring Lake Huron’s coastal environment and promoting a healthy coastal ecosystem. It’s volunteer Coast Watchers Citizen Science Monitoring Program has been running for approximately 15 years. Training sessions are held every April.

Sounds like a great idea. Why be a weather watcher, when you could be a coastal watcher!

Postscript: Have you noticed any signs of climate change in your corner of the world?

The Literary Salon – Beach Books Summer 2019

July 25, 2019July 28, 201949 Comments

What makes a great beach book – any book with summer in the title. Here’s my summer reading list (four read, two to go), and although only two of my selections qualify with respect to the title, they are all beach-worthy in one way or another.

First place, as always, goes to Elin Hilderbrand’s annual summer release, Summer of 69.

Publisher’s Blurb: Follow New York Times bestselling author Elin Hilderbrand back in time and join a Nantucket family as they experience the drama, intrigue, and upheaval of a 1960s summer. Welcome to the most tumultuous summer of the twentieth century. It’s 1969, and for the Levin family, the times they are a-changing. Every year the children have looked forward to spending the summer at their grandmother’s historic home in downtown Nantucket. But like so much else in America, nothing is the same: Blair, the oldest sister, is marooned in Boston, pregnant with twins and unable to travel. Middle sister Kirby, caught up in the thrilling vortex of civil rights protests and determined to be independent, takes a summer job on Martha’s Vineyard. Only-son Tiger is an infantry soldier, recently deployed to Vietnam. Thirteen-year-old Jessie suddenly feels like an only child, marooned in the house with her out-of-touch grandmother and her worried mother, each of them hiding a troubling secret. As the summer heats up, Ted Kennedy sinks a car in Chappaquiddick, man flies to the moon, and Jessie and her family experience their own dramatic upheavals along with the rest of the country. In her first “historical novel,” rich with the details of an era that shaped both a country and an island thirty miles out to sea, Elin Hilderbrand once again proves her title as queen of the summer novel.

Why I liked it: Her usual fare, but anyone who lived through the summer of 1969 (sorry millennials), will find this book especially appealing. I was the same age as Jesse the youngest of the siblings, so I could really relate to the story line, the fashions and the music. I especially liked how she incorporated songs of the era as chapter titles.

“For What It’s Worth” I think we had better songs back then. I’d like to “Get Back” to that year on “A Magic Carpet Ride” as “Those Were the Days” my friend. I was a “Young Girl” in ’69, a year when “Everybody’s Talking” about “Fly Me To The Moon”, that distant orb in the sky which was “A Whiter Shade of Pale”. It was the “Time of the Season” for love and as we were “Born to be Wild” we were full of “Midnight Confessions”. We didn’t need “Help” from “Mother’s Little Helper” or “White Rabbits” or have the “Summertime Blues” as it was a time of peace and hope. For all it’s protests it was also a time of optimistic change, as politically “Everyday People” who had “Heard It Through The Grapevine” (as opposed to CNN or Fox), did not have “Suspicious Minds” and could look at issues “From Both Sides Now”. Perhaps, “Someday We’ll Be Together” again, hopefully “More Today than Yesterday.” Whew – I got them all in! (How many do you remember?)

Instead of flying to the moon, let’s fly to Paris – One Summer in Paris – by Sarah Morgan

Publishers Blurb: To celebrate their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, Grace has planned the surprise of a lifetime for her husband—a romantic getaway to Paris. But she never expected he’d have a surprise of his own: he wants a divorce. Reeling from the shock but refusing to be broken, a devastated Grace makes the bold decision to go to Paris alone. Audrey, a young woman from London, has left behind a heartache of her own when she arrives in Paris. A job in a bookshop is her ticket to freedom, but with no money and no knowledge of the French language, suddenly a summer spent wandering the cobbled streets alone seems much more likely…until she meets Grace, and everything changes. Grace can’t believe how daring Audrey is. Audrey can’t believe how cautious newly single Grace is. Living in neighboring apartments above the bookshop, this unlikely pair offer each other just what they’ve both been missing. They came to Paris to find themselves, but finding this unbreakable friendship might be the best thing that’s ever happened to them…

Why I liked it: I’m not a big fan of romance fiction, but was attracted by the title and the book jacket. I’ve never been to Paris, the story line sounded promising and it had a bookstore in it. Basically this book was pure fluff, albeit readable fluff. I don’t think I’ll be reading anything more by this author, as she is traditionally a romance writer and it was a bit too predictable for me. Plus there was actually very little about Paris or the bookstore in it, which just goes to show how we can get sucked in by marketing. (I swear if I ever write my murder mystery I’m going to call it Murder at the Paris Bookshop even though it’s set in another country – guaranteed sales – but perhaps that title has already been taken?)

Did I mention I’m a sucker for any title with a bookstore in it, so No. 3 is The Bookstore on the Corner – by Jenny Colgan.

Publishers Blurb: Nina Redmond is a literary matchmaker. Pairing a reader with that perfect book is her passion… and also her job. Or at least it was. Until yesterday, she was a librarian in the hectic city. But now the job she loved is no more. Determined to make a new life for herself, Nina moves to a sleepy village many miles away. There she buys a van and transforms it into a bookmobile—a mobile bookshop that she drives from neighborhood to neighborhood, changing one life after another with the power of storytelling. From helping her grumpy landlord deliver a lamb, to sharing picnics with a charming train conductor who serenades her with poetry, Nina discovers there’s plenty of adventure, magic, and soul in a place that’s beginning to feel like home… a place where she just might be able to write her own happy ending.

Why I liked it: I haven’t read it yet, but with a bookstore, how could it fail? (I’m reserving judgement, see above). (Edited to add: Two chapters in and I’m loving this book – the main character, the humorous style of writing, the Scottish locale, it’s simply charming, and there are actual books in it!) (Note after finishing: I’m quite disappointed – two thirds of the way through this book turned into a Hallmark movie. It was all down hill after the scene with Mr. Darcy wearing a kilt and carrying an injured lamb…..well those were actually two separate scenes but you get the drift….really I m much too old for this romance stuff. Where is Jane Austen when you need her!)

It’s summer concert season. Let’s go back in time again, this time to the 70’s. Based loosely on the rock group Fleetwood Mac, Daisy Jones and the Six – by Taylor Jenkins Reid was a selection of Reese Witherspoon’s book club. I can already see the movie being made….now who will play the lead singers?

Publisher’s Blurb: Everyone knows Daisy Jones & The Six, but nobody knows the reason behind their split at the absolute height of their popularity . . . until now.
Daisy is a girl coming of age in L.A. in the late sixties, sneaking into clubs on the Sunset Strip, sleeping with rock stars, and dreaming of singing at the Whisky a Go Go. The sex and drugs are thrilling, but it’s the rock and roll she loves most. By the time she’s twenty, her voice is getting noticed, and she has the kind of heedless beauty that makes people do crazy things. Also getting noticed is The Six, a band led by the brooding Billy Dunne. On the eve of their first tour, his girlfriend Camila finds out she’s pregnant, and with the pressure of impending fatherhood and fame, Billy goes a little wild on the road. Daisy and Billy cross paths when a producer realizes that the key to supercharged success is to put the two together. What happens next will become the stuff of legend. The making of that legend is chronicled in this riveting and unforgettable novel, written as an oral history of one of the biggest bands of the seventies. Taylor Jenkins Reid is a talented writer who takes her work to a new level with Daisy Jones & The Six, brilliantly capturing a place and time in an utterly distinctive voice.

Why I liked it: Despite it’s great reviews I wasn’t sure I was going to like this book. It wasn’t a subject matter that interested me, as I attended a Catholic high school and my recollection of the 70’s was not exactly sex, drugs and rock and roll. But I ended up loving it – and it’s definitely one of the most memorable books I’ve read this year. Basically it’s a love story, but not your typical one. I even liked the unique interview format a la Rolling Stone, which surprisingly readable. The book is pure fiction but the characters seemed so real that several younger reviewers on Goodreads believed it was a memoir about a real band. Someone really needs to set those lyrics at the end to music.

Enough of the retro, here’s a psychological thriller to keep you in suspense during those nights when it’s too hot to sleep – The Silent Patient by Alex Michaelides

Publishers Blurb: Alicia Berenson’s life is seemingly perfect. A famous painter married to an in-demand fashion photographer, she lives in a grand house with big windows overlooking a park in one of London’s most desirable areas. One evening her husband Gabriel returns home late from a fashion shoot, and Alicia shoots him five times in the face, and then never speaks another word. Alicia’s refusal to talk, or give any kind of explanation, turns a domestic tragedy into something far grander, a mystery that captures the public imagination and casts Alicia into notoriety. The price of her art skyrockets, and she, the silent patient, is hidden away from the tabloids and spotlight at the Grove, a secure forensic unit in North London. Theo Faber is a criminal psychotherapist who has waited a long time for the opportunity to work with Alicia. His determination to get her to talk and unravel the mystery of why she shot her husband takes him down a twisting path into his own motivations—a search for the truth that threatens to consume him….

Why I liked it: I don’t usually like first person narratives, especially by male protagonists, but this was very well done and overall an excellent book for a first time novelist. Never even saw the ending coming – I am in awe of the brilliance.

And lastly, because even the best of summers have to come to an end and real life resumes, a family drama – After the End – by Clare MacIntosh.

Publisher’s Blurb: Max and Pip are the strongest couple you know. They’re best friends, lovers—unshakable. But then their son gets sick and the doctors put the question of his survival into their hands. For the first time, Max and Pip can’t agree. They each want a different future for their son. What if they could have both? A gripping and propulsive exploration of love, marriage, parenthood, and the road not taken, After the End brings one unforgettable family from unimaginable loss to a surprising, satisfying, and redemptive ending and the life they are fated to find.

Why I liked it: I haven’t read this one yet either. I’m saving it for August, but it sounds like a departure from her usual crime suspense novels (I Let You Go, I See You). We shall see….

There – a little something for everyone under the sun – Happy Reading!

PS. What are you reading this summer?