wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


39 Comments

The Useful Fig Tree

This fig tree came to my garden as a rooted cutting, a gift from a friend. It was about ten inches high in a small black pot. I found a place for it in the corner of my veggie garden. Little did I know that the compost bin next to it would seep out nutrition for it and turn it into a seven foot tree in just a few years.

This year it had 52 figs on it, and after I picked them, the branches loaded up again with a second crop. I think it’s one of the few plants in my garden that really likes me.

I live on Vancouver Island – not in the Mediterranean or western Asia where they originated – but my fig tree grew happily anyway.

Thank heaven, the Mediterranean fig trees had leaves that were supposedly perfect for covering the private parts of those famous ancient naked sculptures. Fig leaves must have seen a lot of use, as there are so many sculptures made in the old civilizations.

So now I know the answer to something I’ve questioned all these years. Why did the old masters make so many of their sculptures naked? The answer is of course, they had a lot of fig leaves available.

 


37 Comments

Sunday Sailors

What an opportunity to learn to sail! The protected bay is perfect for it. A very light breeze keeps the would-be sailors on their toes, lest they get caught making a turn in the wrong direction.

Yes, there is strength in numbers, taking courage from each other, as long as they don’t all need help at the same time.

The guide boats keep a close watch on their assigned groups and are motorized for quick access to anyone needing extra help.

As long as you don’t end up in the water unexpectedly, this could be a lot of fun.

One other day when the sea was less calm it must have been training day, and luckily almost everyone was prepared for this “rescue mission.”

Or perhaps it was done on purpose to show the would-be sailors what to do if they took a wrong turn and flipped over.

They were obviously prepared for getting wet that day.

I think I’ll just stay on dry land whenever I can.

 


42 Comments

Poppies Again

On the back part of our property, I have a little rectangle of dirt for growing potatoes and sometimes squash. But as you can see, I have the same problem happening here. The poppies came to live here and seem to like it. I did not plant them; not on purpose anyway. The seeds are in the soil I move around the yard and these flowers pop up everywhere. Behind this first batch you can see my poor potatoes trying to survive our heat wave.

Plain red with dark centers, fluffy red, and some mauvish purplish ones – they all seem to get along together.

Kurly Kate likes to show off all her petals. The rest of the poppies are so envious of her curls.

This red one tried to be a curly one but didn’t quite make it.  Let’s call it wavy hair, if not so curly.

I see a face in this one, below. In the center I see her left eye looking like a yellow star. Some other flower might have “popped” her one. If you see the light coloured left eye, you can see the smaller right eye looking right at you, with a yellow iris and a dark pupil. Her lips look like a chicken’s bill. She’s wearing a big red bonnet, and she has some bangs on her forehead. Looks like she’s wearing headphones but we can only see the one by her left ear. (Don’t be confused by right and left. It’s HER right, and HER left that I’m referring to.)

And last of all, I admit to being surprised at these two photos of purplish poppies. I didn’t realize that they are two quite different colours. The first one (below) is more purple, and the next ones below that photo, are more of a burgundy colour.

I had two more pretty colours, but the pictures were blurry, so maybe next time, I’ll try again. We’ll see.

Meanwhile, thanks for popping by!


32 Comments

Another Kind of Bag

Last week I went to a class to learn how to make a cosmetics bag (which could be used for anything at all, not only cosmetics).  I had some dog print material that a friend gave me and I thought it would look nice on a bag. The pattern had three sizes and I decided to make the middle size for a start.

I learned how to use a zipper that you make as long as you want by cutting it off a long, long zipper. Then you put the zipper pull on it and sew tabs on the ends of the zipper. This was my first time trying to make a custom-sized zipper, and it’s a bit rough, but still okay enough for me to try again on another bag sometime.

Inside the bag is a lining which I decided to make of the same dog print material. It has two mesh pockets on one side.

On the other side, an extra piece of material was sewn in to make a zippered pocket. This pocket zipper was a pre-determined length, ready made, so it was relatively easy to install.

If I can figure out how to fasten a long over-the-shoulder handle and make the bag the next bigger size, I know someone who would love to use it as a dog training bag. It has a place to put the dog whistle, dog treats, a leash and collar, a bottle of water, and maybe a sandwich or a granola bar. He just has to be sure not to get the treats mixed up. I’m sure Emma wouldn’t mind it, but the Captain might not be so fussy about mistakenly eating a dog treat.


33 Comments

Darth Vader of the Sea

Underwater placemats? Next time you have a fish dinner, wouldn’t it be interesting to use placemats with an underwater theme? The fish in the placemats could remind the fish on your plate of the many dangers in the sea.

Darth Vader of the Sea.

“I tell my friends those hooks can pierce,”

Says Dark Invader of the Sea.

“It’s only ‘cuz I look so fierce,

They simply cannot capture me.”

 

My friends stay close and mill around,

They feel much safer swimming near,

I wave my fins without a sound,

And, grinning, tell them not to fear.

 

 


34 Comments

Then and Now

Ski hill lit up in a magical spell,

Dreamy night setting that suits skiers well,

Silence is broken so gently and slow

By boards that grip sideways and crunch on the snow.

 

Icy cold particles stinging the cheek,

As windburn sets in, it is not for the meek,

Face feeling fresher against the wind’s bite,

Small price to pay to descend in the night.

 

Carving a path through the crisp mountain trail,

Chilling and thrilling, a joy without fail,

Swooping and sweeping around in the glow,

Joyfully living and breathing in snow.

 

That was then. This is now.

Cool breeze arrives on the ski hill next morn,

Rounding out edges to make them look worn,

Moisture seeps into each cranny and nook,

Skiers raise eyebrows with questioning look.

 

Where are the lights and the softly lit snow?

Who let this fog in, and why won’t it go?

Damp and encroaching, the low cloud just sits,

Making me thankful I’m wearing my mitts.

 

One thing is good about groping through mist,

Stunts can be tried that I just can’t resist,

No one can watch me or see as I fall

Ass over tea kettle once and for all.

Oops! Should have specified this poem as rated “R.”

(Sigh!) But “Bum over tea kettle” just doesn’t do it.

It would be too much like hearing a macho man say “whoops-a-daisy.”