Precipitation

Remember the song, “Anticipation” sung by Carly Simon? Well, I couldn’t get the lyrics out of my head with all this rain and flooding. Maybe my brain got waterlogged. But the words came out all twisted:

We can never know how much rain will come
But we put up with it anyway, yay
And I wonder if I really got soaked right now
Or if I’m still wet from the other day

Precipitation, precipitation
Is makin’ me wade
Is keepin’ me wadin’

And I tell you how easily it fills a swimming pool
And how wet your arms feel around me
But I, I cursed that rain ’til late last night
When I was thinkin’ about how dry tonight could be

Precipitation, precipitation
Is makin’ me wade
Is keepin’ me wadin’

And tomorrow we might have stormy weather
I’m no prophet and I don’t know nature’s ways
So I’ll try and check the weather forecast now
And stay inside ’cause this is a drier place

(This is a drier place)
And stay right here ’cause this is a drier place
(This is a drier place)
(This is a drier place)
(This is a drier place)
(This is … a drier place)

My sincerest apologies to Carly. I always liked that song (Anticipation). Luckily, the precipitation turned into snow up in the hills and it’s not too bad.

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Later in the evening, the sun came out and shone on the clouds that would bring the next dump of rain/snow on us

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At least we had a break in the weather for a few hours. Now we wait for the next precipitation with anticipation.

Being Thankful

Susie Lindau has invited fellow bloggers to a hashtag party called the #Blessed Project.

Click on this link to join Susie at her party! https://susielindau.com/2016/11/22/join-the-blessed-project-and-link-up-your-blog/.

My contribution to this blog party is probably much like many other people’s, but it never hurts to say it out loud how thankful we are for our blessings.

I am thankful for:

  1. my husband and our relatively good health. Without it, all the money in the world is worthless.

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2. my wonderful family – both on my side and the Captain’s.

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3. my dogs, Emma and Ruby, who are as much a part of the family as the people are.

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4. readers of my novels. I love writing and it’s great to be able to share my stories.

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5. having enough food to eat and clean water to drink.

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6. The list could go on for miles. Besides the usual family, health, and food and shelter blessings, I am lucky to live near the ocean and yet travel to inland places I love.

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7. I am lucky to be able to see wildlife close to home, especially birds, raccoons, and squirrels. Bears, not so much, although it’s a thrill to see them occasionally.

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8. I feel blessed to have good personal friends and blogging friends.

9. I love living in Canada and visiting the United States.

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10. I should round it off at ten things, but there is too much competition for which blessing should be the last one I’ll mention.

Thank you, Susie, for this great idea. It makes us think of positive things at a time when most of us are getting stressed over the pressures of the upcoming holiday season. It should be a holiday, but someone has to make those cookies, cook those meals, buy those gifts, decorate the house, etc. So when the crush of “have to’s” is getting us down, let’s remember how truly blessed we are.

Wild and Wonderful

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Wild and wonderful and free

Is how the ocean looks to me.

Foam that flies across the road,

Wind and waves that toss their load

Of logs and seaweed on the land,

Leave them lying on the sand.

 

Imagine standing in those rollers,

Feel the power bowl you over.

No, no, no. I’m not that crazy.

Where’s my camera? I’ll be lazy.

It’s too chilly for such folly,

Best go home and deck with holly.

 

 

High Boats

The boat that brings in the most fish is “high boat” for the day. But here in this photo, are many high boats. The wharf is in a back eddy of the river near the estuary, in an area locally referred to as the slough.The tide is almost as high as the road and as we drove along beside the floats, the boats seemed to be level with the road. Normally you would only see the masts and trolling poles as you drive by.

I took the picture from inside the car. It was too miserable to step outside.

You can see the long black snake of tubing at the edge of the road. Whatever is in that long bag of something is meant to stop the river from backing up over the road. The area is no stranger to flooding.dscn7555

I have rarely seen the boats so high that they are almost on street level. The Comox Valley has seen a lot of flooding this fall. A combination of high tide, heavy outflow from the flooding river, and gale-force southeast winds backing up the tide are responsible for this odd situation. It’s really unusual to have so much wind and rain so early and so frequent. It’s just one system after another.

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A reminder once again that you have only a few days left to meet the Nov. 30 deadline for the writing contest. It’s fun and easy. Please visit annelisplace for details.

 

He’s Ba-ack!

Same tree, same kind of bird, and I would wager it’s THE same bird. He was here in July and now he’s back to one of his favourite restaurants, an old maple that has a lot of dying branches. The bark is probably loaded in bugs and grubs that will fill this bird’s belly.

When I did a post about him in July, I had no idea what kind of bird it was, but with the help of my followers, we narrowed it down to a red-headed sapsucker.

Just like on his previous visit, he was not at all shy and let me take many pictures. I needed to do this because he moved so fast, pecking at the tree bark, that most of my photos were blurry. Here is one from when he held still for a split second.                                           dscn7491It’s hard to tell from the photo but he is about the size of a robin.

Baby it’s cold outside

The first snowfall of the season has dusted the tops of our local hills at last. This year it’s a welcome sight, not only for the skiers, but for the townspeople who have been under a “Boil Water Advisory” off and on for weeks, due to the heavy rainfall and flooding.

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The sun even came out for a few minutes to highlight the cool hilltops.

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Everyone is talking about it, even the ducks, dscn7445a

 

With all the rain that’s fallen here,

We ducks don’t cry, but rather cheer.

But as the chill turns rain to snow,

We start to wonder where to go.

Maybe we will be in luck

And fields won’t turn to frozen muck.

The corn and grain in farmers’ fields

Is filling for the strength it yields

But if it freezes, in our strife

We’ll have to eat aquatic life.

 

Playing Annie Oakley

When my sister was small enough to fit into a suitcase, we were all playing with guns. Not real guns, of course, but guns just the same. My hero at the time, because we lived in what we thought of as the Wild West, was Annie Oakley.

My brother and two sisters and I spent hours playing “Cowboys and Indians” out in our backyard and in the backyard of our neighbours who were real Indians. They were Cree and were our best friends in our elementary school days.

We rode our pretend horses around the trails that surrounded our houses. We were on the outskirts of town, a new subdivision going in, developing very, very slowly in our northern town. The hills of excavated soil to be backfilled the next spring provided lookout points and we slapped our thighs  and made clicking noises to spur on our horses, galloping up the hills of dirt, down the gullies of the back alley, and around the sheds and our houses. We stopped behind shrubs to spy on each other, ambushing a careless rider, and killing them with our sixguns.

The irony of our Cowboys and Indians game was that we white folks always wanted to be the Indians and they wanted to be us. Sometimes we took turns. No one ever got hurt, as we were the best of friends, but the goal was to see which team would have “the last man standing” and for the rest of us, who could die the most dramatically. In those days I thought that when you died, no matter what you were doing when you got shot, you had to lie down on your back and spread your arms out (like Jesus on the cross), and close your eyes.

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After all that play with guns, none of us ever had the idea of really shooting someone. We knew it was just a game and that you didn’t play with real guns. We had a healthy respect for guns and never confused pretending to shoot our “Cowboy and Indian” friends in the backyard with shooting anyone with a real gun.

In this picture, my sister was probably about 3 or 4 years old. She was very well adjusted even then, and so she is to this day.

So what has changed in this world that people don’t understand the difference between play and reality anymore?