wordsfromanneli

Thoughts, ideas, photos, and stories.


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First Dampish Days

A dampish day, but that’s okay,

The sky is overcast,

The garden’s wet, so I’m all set,

The watering chore is past.

 

A squirrel hops, he looks, and stops,

He chatters to my face,

Then turns to run and have more fun,

At some much safer place.

 

I pick a pear and am aware

That rabbits like to chew,

If fruit should fall to ground at all,

It’s nibbled through and through.

 

The garden thrives and gives up chives

To make a lovely sauce,

But not the squash, it was a wash,

Complete and total loss.

I’m glad that kale does not get stale,

It’s growing, slow but strong,

This healthy plant in soup just can’t

Make anything go wrong.

 

A lonely rose, so bravely grows,

And blooms its last few days,

But come next year, you must not fear,

Again, it will amaze.


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The Reluctant Fireplace

This huge stone fireplace was meant to give comfort on a chilly evening. Originally it was without the gas insert. The firebox was roomy and deep and the wood fire gave a cozy feeling. The problem was that just on that kind of night when the wind was howling and the rain pelting down, the chimney allowed gusts to blast down it, blowing smoke back into the house.

A gas fireplace insert was the solution. We decided on a Jotul brand, which allowed for the best fit, and prepared the gas lines and the electric cables for running the fan.

The next step was to install the Jotul insert that the company ordered for us. When it arrived, so did trouble. It had been damaged in shipping.

“No problem,” they told us. “We’ll order another one from our supplier’s warehouse. It’ll be here in less than a week.”

“That’s okay,” we said. “It’s only March, and summer is coming. We just want it to be ready for when winter comes.”

The big day came, sometime in April. Time to unload it. “Oops! This one is damaged too. We’ll order another one, but there are no more in the warehouse; it will have to come from Maine. It could take a couple of weeks.”

The stove arrived, and …. Yup! You guessed it. It was damaged in transit. Another stove was ordered. Now we had to get in line. Seems there was a backup on orders.

Finally, in late July, the stove arrived — right in the middle of our big heat wave. But at least, this time, it was not damaged.

To burn off the  new metal and some of the chemicals from the stove, we let it run for a few minutes. All the while, our air conditioner was working overtime to compensate.

But at last, we had the prospect of some cozy winter mornings by the fire.

It only took four months. I’m glad we started early.


38 Comments

The Nice Light

At a certain time of the evening, the last rays of the sun paint a golden glow on the tall firs. We call it “the nice light” when that happens. The morning light is similar, but the glow isn’t as warm as the evening light.

Stand tall, fellows, ready then?

Here comes that nice light again.

Soak it up and feel its glow,

Soon enough, cold winds will blow.

 

Soothing warmth and light for growth,

What good luck to have them both,

Cloudless evenings are the best,

As the sun sinks in the west.

 

When the cold days come again,

We will stand through wind and rain.

Strength to keep harsh days at bay,

Comes from warming light today.


34 Comments

An Evening Promise

Riled up clouds go lumbering by,

Stirring up unsettled sky,

Wispy, misty moisture passes,

Light diffused upon its masses.

 

Sun’s last efforts streaming low,

Just before it lets us go,

Into darkness for some hours,

As the clouds spit out their showers.

 

Promises of warmer rays,

Shining down in coming days,

Though Sun sleeps behind the hill,

It will rise again, it will.

 

Morning rays revitalize,

More than we can realize,

But for now it says good night,

Telling all of us, “Sleep tight.”


42 Comments

Getting Rid of the Evidence

Orson, the Oregon junco, has found a sunny spot to rest.

“Ooooh! This is so toasty on my body. The sun has warmed the railing. It feels glorious after so much cold wind.”

“Ahh … this is SO nice! I’ll get some of that warmth on my throat too. Oh, my goodness, that is so wonderful.”

“Oops! Excuse me. Nature calls. I’m trying to be modest, turning my back, but why do I have the feeling I’m on Candid Camera?”

“Hmm … the evidence … it’s still there. What to do? What to do? Oh, no! I’m such a birdbrain.”

“I just can’t have anyone pointing an accusing feather, saying it was me. They’ll probably put it on Twitter.  Still, I needn’t worry. If they put anything on Twitter, the birds would be canceled for expressing an unpopular opinion. Meanwhile, only one thing to do and that’s flee the scene of the crime.”

The evidence was left behind, but before a half hour passed by, the heavens opened up and the whole deck was full of evidence. Well … it looked like more evidence.

Loads of evidence covered the railing as a freak hailstorm blew in and then out again as quickly as it had come. Orson was spared many accusations, and he felt a lot lighter.

 


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Marshall

Yesterday was like a usual West Coast winter’s day. Wind and rain, followed by rain and wind.

This morning it looked like Christmas on the hills. Luckily we don’t live up in the hills.

The air is still icy and I have to keep reminding myself that it’s March, still cold, but with a promise of warmer days to come. It reminded me of the stupid “Knock, Knock” joke which I’m sure you’ve all heard.

Knock, knock.

Who’s there?

Marshall.

Marshall who?

Marshall come in like a lion and go out like a lamb.

May it be so!

There’s hope, if these daffodils are telling the truth.


37 Comments

Everyone Knows it’s Windy

The fir trees in the photo below are used to bending away from the prevailing southeast winds. The bay is loaded in whitecaps, a sure sign that only fools would go out there in a small boat. No fools visible today.

It blew so hard today that the firs in my backyard suffered in spite of being partly sheltered behind my house. When the rain let up somewhat, I went outside to take a picture of the branch that broke in the wind today. Apparently the rain hadn’t quite stopped, as you can see from the big drop that fell right in the middle of my camera lens. I was going to try to edit it out, but then I thought, “No, this is part of the picture. It was wet out there.”

If you look to the left of the tree closest to you, near the middle, you can see that a branch is near the ground, but still hanging on the tree. It is broken and hanging by a thread way up high. See the birdhouse on the tree? Go up about the same distance again as the birdhouse is from ground level and you will see the break.

Here is a close-up of the top of that broken branch.

I guess I could try swinging on the branch like Tarzan and it would come off, but if it broke mid-swing, that might not be too much fun.

Branches flying everywhere,

Look! A sliding patio chair,

Time to get some firewood,

Raining, so put up your hood,

Fir cones pelt the woodshed roof,

Put your hard hat on, you goof.

Quickly, fill that barrow now,

Gusts of wind are screaming – “Wow!”

Push the wood up to the house,

Knowing you’ve exposed a mouse,

Hiding by the firewood stack

She resettles farther back.

Birds are huddling in a shrub,

Dangerous to come out for grub.

Just get through this awful night,

Tomorrow things will be all right.


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Hard Work

It is herring time on the coast of B.C.  The herring migrate to certain parts of the coast to lay eggs (spawn) close to shore.  It is the ideal time to catch them for their roe.

The seiners didn’t have far to go to set their nets this year. Less than a half hour’s run from town, they put their huge nets in the water  and encircled the schools of herring with a huge  purse seine net.

The small skiff helps anchor one end of the net while the seiner runs around in a circle, unrolling the huge net into the water. The white floats on the top of the net help us to see where the net is. Their job is to keep the top of the net afloat. The bottom of the net has heavy lead rings tied to it through which a line passes. It is like a drawstring that closes the net so fish can’t escape through the bottom.

In the photo below, the red  boat has already closed its net. Seagulls circle, hoping to lunch on unfortunate escapees. The boat next to the red seiner might be a packer, standing by to take the load onto his boat and then to market.

The herring could be scooped out of the net with a huge brailer, like a long-handled fish net, or in some cases, the herring are sucked out of the net and onto the packer or into the hold of the seiner with a kind of (very large) vacuum that slurps up the fish and seawater and pumps it all into the hold of the waiting boat. The seawater is pumped out of the boat leaving only the herring behind in a big strainer.

To unload them, the process is reversed and water is added to the hold to enable the vacuum to suck the herring out of the boat.

 

The boat on the right side of the photo has just paid out the net in a circle to try for a catch of herring. See the white floats?


The farther boat in the photo below has hauled a catch over to the boat. You can see the seagulls going crazy with the feeding opportunities it provides for them.

Fishing for herring is hard work. In late February and even in March the weather can be raw and brutal, especially on the water.

I took the photos of the seiners from the deck of my house, so they are quite far away. The very next day, I took the photo below, of the same view, but the boats are not visible through the snow clouds. I hope no one was fishing that day.

I like to eat pickled herring, but I’ve learned that the food herring are caught in the winter (maybe November) when they are fattest.  In the spring roe fishery, the herring are skinnier and are caught mainly for their roe, highly prized in the Japanese market (at least prized by the older generation). I’ve heard it suggested that the younger Japanese generation prefers McDonalds. Not much of a choice, to my mind.

In case you are wondering what happens to the rest of the herring after they are stripped of their roe … fish fertilizer.

 


37 Comments

Super Worm Moon

I had to try for these photos of the super moon tonight. I was surprised to see that the moon lit up a few of the holly berries  where it shone through the leaves. You can see a bit of red on the berries.

After I came into the house again, I found out about this full moon in March being called a super moon. It has many other names, but one that I hadn’t heard before was a worm moon, named for the castings of earthworms making lumpy designs on the grass. When I zoomed in on the moon, I thought, yes, it does look like a bit of a minefield of earthworm “process.”

 

Tonight (Sunday), the moon looked full and beautiful, but the actual full moon is tomorrow, so you can still go looking for it on Monday night.

I wish you all a super day!


30 Comments

Daffy Dolls

After weeks and weeks of cold, sunless days of wind, rain, and even some snow, is it any wonder we get desperate as we anticipate spring weather?

I was unreasonably happy when I noticed these daffodil leaves poking through the winter’s mess.

I’m hoping that by the time it’s Easter, the daffodils will bloom and announce that our winter ordeal is over.

Daffodils are tough. They are among the first flowers to put out feelers to gauge the temperature above that layer of fall leaves.

Can I come out yet?

And is the snow gone?

Will I be frozen

While waiting for dawn?

 

Gather your courage,

My buddies all say,

Be brave together

And we’ll win the day.

 

First we may shiver,

But then you will see,

The sun will shine longer

For you and for me.

 

Set up your blossoms

To open in spring,

Yellow and cheerful

Is just the right thing.

 

We are the bravest

The gutsiest here,

Being the first to bring

Snippets of cheer.

Sooooooooon!

I cheated here and put in a photo of daffodils from another year, but they are the same ones that belong to those green stems in the previous photo.

Daffodils have a special place in my heart. My mother loved flowers and when, as a new Canadian, she learned the name of these flowers, she couldn’t help always mixing up the syllables. To this day I think of them as daffy dolls, her name for them.

Please visit my website if you need more winter reading until spring comes for keeps.

http://www.anneli-purchase.com