Bugs Bunny Would Be Proud

A couple months ago, I was surfing the net, looking for new canning recipes. I found a really yummy-looking one - Carrot Cake Jam (tell me that doesn't sound the best!) - and have kept it in the back of my mind since. Today I tried it out.

After a bunch of running around earlier, I settled down to the job at hand. I pulled a handful of carrots from the garden. Almost everything died back awhile ago when we were hit with hard frost but the carrots just keep getting better.

Last crop in the garden

I had picked up a basket of pears at the Market last week and they've been sitting, staring at me relentlessly, ever since. Oh, the pressure. Turns out, I only needed two pears for this batch. What do I know. I see an apple-pear sauce, or something, in my none-too-distant future. May even share a couple with the chickens. What the heck, they give us food every day.

The fruit and veggie were peeled, grated and/or chopped, thrown into my beautiful maslin pan with a can of very not-local pineapple, spices added and everything brought to a boil. I'm not usually one to use pectin, but had found some Pomona pectin at the health food store and wanted to give it a try. Instead of using the...are you sitting down...6-1/2 cups of sugar that's called for, I used about 2 cups. As it cooked down, I had a wee sample and it tasted mighty fine, if I do say so myself. Ended up with 4 - 250ml jars. The final judgment will take place in the next few days, with a slice or two of toast and a hot cup of coffee.

Carrot Cake Jam. Oh. Mmmm.

Now That's Fresh

The rain was falling ever so gently. Not quite how I'd planned it.

Happy Thanksgiving!

(Yep, that's shorts they're wearing! Beauty weather!!)

Dark and Scary. And Cold, Too.

Friday night, Ri and I met up with some of her friends and their mums uptown. The basement of the library had been transformed into a haunted house for the weekend. I figured it might be some good fun and it was an opportunity for Ri to hang out with some of her old friends. Our group, just shy of twenty souls, lined up at the back of the darkened, brick building where we were escorted through in groups of five. Ri made her way with the first group while I waited with the stragglers.

The entrance was lit just poorly enough that one could safely find her way up the stairs. Every now and again, an ornery creature in dirt-covered rags pushed the door open and bellowed at us. A foreboding figure in black held the door. My group was beckoned and I, sadly, was the last one through. As I entered the building, the foreboding figure holding the door said in a rather friendly tone, "Hi Lisa." I returned the greeting, all the while wondering who it was. The voice was familiar and, Lisa. Who called me Lisa? Then it dawned on me. It was the former owner of the local gas station. She's been calling me Lisa for thirteen years now. I'd corrected her the first few times way back when and then let it go. No big deal. So, Paul's ex-girlfriend was named Lisa. Whatever. Doesn't bother me.

*coughs*

Where was I? Right. I followed my group down the steep steps and decided this would be a good time to grab the purse strap of Julie, in front of me. I was just looking out for her. We made our way through a dark maze of creepy, scary, delimbed  and dead beings. Did I mention it was dark? One, um, fella, offered his bloody hand...literally. Another, writhed on the floor. Couldn't tell if he was dead or undead. As we slowly made our way along, we came to a sign noting the low ceiling. Most didn't notice it above them. I ducked. Moments later, for whatever reason, I glanced back and spotted a creature with arms outstretched following me. Two steps closer and that low ceiling would have crashed into my head. Here's a picture of me rounding the second last corner...

My hair was a little wind-blown after waiting outside so long.

At last, we saw the light, you might say, climbed the stairs and gathered with the others on the front lawn. I took my first breath since being called Lisa, knelt down and kissed the frosty grass. Not bad for two bucks. It was still dark.

Hallowe'en night was the coldest one we'd seen in a long time. Even saw a few snowflakes on and off during the day. Ri was invited to go trick-or-treating with a couple of classmates so the kids each grabbed a pillowcase for candy-collecting and we went into Peterborough for the festivities. As great as country living is, you can't beat the city for a sugar-high. After dropping Ri off, the four of us met up with brother Enos in the school parking lot and knocked on area doors. He kindly brought Paul and I each a coffee which we were more than happy to wrap our cold hands around. An hour or so later we returned to the parking lot, treasures-in-hand, wished Enos a ghoul night - heh heh - picked up Ri and went home. I've since checked their bags for, um, safety reasons. Ya. The peanut butter cups are all gone.

Poor ole skeleton being accosted by Bumblebee, 'dead girlie-girl' and Darth Vader

Scooping Out The Pumpkins

Three Local Goblins

The Nine Little Goblins

by James Whitcomb Riley

They all climbed up on a high board fence -
Nine little Goblins, with green-glass eyes -
Nine little Goblins that had no sense,
And couldn't tell coppers from cold mince pies;
And they all climbed up on the fence, and sat -
And I asked them what they were staring at.

And the first one said, as he scratched his head
With a queer little arm that reached out of his ear
And rasped its claws in his hair so red -
"This is what this little arm is fer!"
And he scratched and stared, and the next one said,
"How on earth do you scratch your head?"

And he laughed like the screech of a rusty hinge -
Laughed and laughed till his face grew black;
And when he choked, with a final twinge
Of his stifling laughter, he thumped his back
With a fist that grew on the end of his tail
Till the breath came back to his lips so pale.

And the third little Goblin leered round at me -
And there were no lids on his eyes at all -
And he clucked one eye, and he says, says he,
"What is the style of your socks this fall?"
And he clapped his heels - and I sighed to see
That he had hands where his feet should be.

Then a bald-faced Goblin, gray and grim,
Bowed his head, and I saw him slip
His eyebrows off, as I looked at him,
And paste them over his upper lip;
And then he moaned in remorseful pain -
"Would - Ah, would I'd me brows again!"

 And then the whole of the Goblin band
Rocked on the fence-top to and fro,
And clung, in a long row, hand in hand,
Singing the songs that they used to know -
Singing the songs that their grandsires sung
In the goo-goo days of the Goblin-tongue.

And ever they kept their green-glass eyes
Fixed on me with a stony stare -
Till my own grew glazed with a dread surmise,
And my hat whooped up on my lifted hair,
And I felt the heart in my breast snap to
As you've heard the lid of a snuff-box do.

And they sang "You're asleep! There is no board-fence,
And never a Goblin with green-glass eyes!
'Tis only a vision the mind invents
After a supper of cold mince pies,
And you're doomed to dream this way," they said,
"And you sha'n't wake up till you're clean plum dead."     

The Dud Maples

Years before we set down roots here, our neighbours took hay off the property for their small herd of cattle. For the most part, this was open, rolling field with pockets of swamp and small trees. Jack pine, feathery white pine and cedar had naturally seeded here, with a handful of apple thrown in for good measure. Over the last decade or so, we've watched the evergreens grow from metre-high saplings to a forest of tall beautiful trees, creating a windbreak against those nasty northerly winter winds and privacy from the road to the west.

There was something missing, though. Leafy trees, like the maples, oaks, elms, birches. Trees that, while bare in winter, magically come alive with a profusion of pea-green buds on one special day in spring. Green day, we call it. We wanted trees that leaf out and provide shelter and shade, followed by a glorious burst of colour, come fall. So, there was only one thing to do - invest in some trees.

First on our list were a couple of trees for the front of the house. We wanted something that would provide shade as they grew while also displaying those magnificent autumn colours. These would be our showpiece trees. We decided on acer rubrum - red maple.

We went to the local nursery, picked out two good sized maples and brought them home. We discussed and measured, dug the holes, fixed the soil and, with the help of our neighbour, strong-armed them out of the back of the truck and planted them. Our showpiece maples were going to be striking and we couldn't wait for fall. Finally, the cooler days of autumn arrived and the leaves turned brown, wilted and fell off the tree. Well, that wasn't quite the effect we were after. Perhaps they needed more time to adjust, we reasoned. Ya. Fall colours must undoubtedly be dependent on a tree's ability to adapt to its new soil, which, in these parts, is clay. Next year would surely be different.

That first fall, we raked up the leaves and burned them, just in case the brown, wilty-bit was bad. Winter came and the following year, as the days grew longer, we experienced green day and our beautiful, hand-picked, showpiece maples leafed out and grew. Come fall, the leaves turned brown, wilted and fell off the tree. Crap. Takes longer to grow accustomed to clay than we figured. Much longer, it turned out, as the damn showpiece maples continued to play their tricks for a few more years. We reclassified them as acer dudrum -  dud maple.

But then, one autumn not-so-many years ago, our dud maples did something they'd never done before. They put on a show. Beautiful fall colours of orange and red and yellow came bursting forth. The leaves weren't brown and they weren't wilting. They were...as advertised. Perhaps they were sick of the names we called them. Maybe they really needed time to grow accustomed to the soil. Who knows. Our dud maples are studs now.

Looking out the bedroom window* at one of the showpiece dud maples.

* Okay. Let me explain about the window stickers. We were told to leave them on until after the fellow comes back as part of our eco-energy audit. I just do as I'm told.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

What do you give thanks for?

Summertime Treat On A Cool Autumn Day

Way back in the summer, I wandered next door for a visit. Darlene had gone up town but I stayed anyway and chatted with Dave. Soon, a car rattled up the driveway and pulled into the drive shed. Out popped Darlene enjoying an ice cream cone. Mint, I think. Interesting. I didn't know that scooped ice cream was to be had in the village. I tucked that little tidbit of information away for another day and we had a nice visit in the shade of the old maple tree, out behind the milkhouse.

After lunch today, I shooed the kids upstairs to change into long pants and socks. They're still in summer-mode despite the autumn temperatures. Twelve degrees, I reasoned, didn't qualify as shorts-weather, even for me. Once all were appropriately attired and had peed, we left for a walk to the village. Except Riley, who rode her bike. And then complained that we walked slow. Eleven year-olds.

"Would you hurry up! Stop looking at trees."

Unlike a past walk, the boys didn't bother searching for lightsabers. No, this time they were soldiers. Up in the hills, through the trees, always on alert and scouting for...bad guys.

Marching-in-step needs a little work. Hup...

Eventually, we arrived in the village and made our way along the highway to the little shop where - surprise! - we found Kawartha Dairy ice cream on tap. I know! What are the odds?! Cammy had the Cotton Candy variety, Ri went with Chewy Chocolate Caramel, and their dear ole ma inhaled the Muskoka Mocha. Oh, 'scuse me; I'm drooling again. Nolan held out for a jawbreaker from the General Store a little farther up the road. Then, we turned around, summer-time treats in hand and headed back home. Not once, did we have to worry about it melting. 

Busy As Bees

Dorito and I have a little tradition. Well, it's all of two years old, but you've got to start somewhere. Towards the end of September, there's a really great antique show in Aberfoyle, out near Guelph. It's a bit of a trip but, gosh darn it, I love it. We went yesterday. Ended up not getting anything (well, maybe one thing which I can't talk about because it might be for someone's birthday that could be coming up in October). Dorito, as usual, took lots of pictures, which you can check out here. 

This morning, the boys and I headed into Peterpatch for their second class of this season's swimming lessons. Nolan's in Sunfish and Cammy's in level 3. They're both doing awesome and shouldn't have any problems getting through these levels. All that swimming during the summer paid off. (Ooh, I can hear the coyotes as I type.) And you know what's almost as fun as half-an-hour in the pool? Why, hanging out in the lockers beforehand, of course.

Here's Johnny

I was in need of some caffeine by the time we got home, so I put the coffee on. Once the pot was made, and my cup full, I went outside and cleaned out Lord Stanley's Coop. All the wood shavings and, therefore, chicken poop, were shoveled into the dumpcart and taken to the back garden where Paul was cleaning up for the winter. With help from Nolan, my little farmer boy, the ladies will be hunkering down tonight with fresh bedding and an oh-so clean coop.

The Stanley Coop all polished up.

Fall At The Fair

It's officially fall. And that's okay by me. The kids had a PA day today and Paul's laid-off 'til next week so brother Enos and I both decided to take the day off. Why, you ask? Well, it's the beginning of fall. And that means the Lindsay Fair. 

We diligently watched the forecast all this week. It called for a fair bit of rain. Fortunately, we've learned not to put much stock in the predictions and never make or cancel plans based on the weather channels. The day turned out beautifully. Monday night was a chilly 3C but today hit a high of 28C; 32 with the humidity. Not bad for the end of September. There was a good breeze too, so it never felt too sticky.

The day started out with a trip over to Ri's friend's house. Ri was invited to spend the day with her family at the fair. After dropping her off, we picked up Enos and made our way to Lindsay. First, we watched the draft horses do their thing. Then we made our way to the midway. First up, the little cars that go round and round...and not much more. Gotta ease into these things. After getting any jitters out of their systems, the little boys went on the roller coaster. Big smiles. And then, the ride that all the boys wait for...the bumper cars.

I wanna get off now!

I'm not having fun.

Let's see, what else? Oh, we visited the poultry barn and, for the first time ever, I didn't feel the need to drop hints about chickens. I'm awesome. Then, into the show ring, out back to see the cows and then over to take a look at the horses. Beautiful animals, all of them. Next, a few more rides...

Not sure how, but Enos eventually managed to fold his legs in for the ride.

At the back of one of the buildings, are displays of photos, quilts, crafts and produce. The cutest are the kids' veggies - ugliest carrot, cutest cuke, and, my favourite, the ugliest potato...

I think it's rather cute

It was a fun-filled day and, after one last ride on the dizzy dragons, we started the trek to the parking lot. Goes without saying that we stopped for cotton candy on the way. Rumour has it that, when the little kids weren't watching, the big kids may have 'freed' some of the sugary goodness for their own indulgence. Sheer speculation, I say.

No More Pickles, Thank You

Two-thirds of the kids started back to school today - you know, the two-thirds from the knees up. Ya, that was a lame attempt at humour, but give me a break here. This blogging gig ain't easy. Ri and Cammy caught the bus this morning for the ride in. We weren't sure who our bus driver was going to be, so when we saw it was Christopher, who we've had for the last couple years, three cheers went up and there were high fives all 'round. He lets the kids chew gum on Fridays. You can't beat that with a stick. Nolan heads back to school tomorrow for his first year of French Immersion. We've taught him a handful of phrases - Bonjour. Comment ça va? Je m'appelle Nolan. And in preparation of hockey season - Le but! (The brown-eyed one is quite adept at using this one.)

After we waved adieu, Nolan and I walked back up the driveway and went inside. I still had cucumbers sitting, nay, staring and waiting to be made into something more than a plain green vegetable. So, I pulled out my trusty collection of pickling recipes and made Nolan's and my favourite, bread and butter pickles. These, along with the dills and sweet dills that were made during the past week, will give us a nice variety over the next year. Happily, the vinegar can now go away.

B&B Pickles in my precious maslin pan

Wash Day

Blue skies, warm temps and sheets drying out on the line. Tonight, we'll snuggle into our beds and breathe in the freshest scents of the day.

Scream!

Cammy, Grandpa and Nolan
~ Very Scary ~

All Hallows' Evening

After counting down too many sleeps to remember, the day has finally arrived. All Hallows' Eve. The kids are stoked - especially the youngest who can't believe we would be so evil as to make him wait 'til after supper before we go out. But wait, he will. Paul's at work and won't be home 'til 3:30. We'll have a bite to eat, go out to see a couple of neighbours and then head down to the 'Shwa for some serious 'big city' trick-or-treating. The wait will be worth it. And, let's face it, we wouldn't want to disappoint Oshawa's biggest kid, Grandpa, who dresses up each year and will happily go house to house with my little monsters and backward superheroes.

Happy Hallowe'en everyone! Hope the ghouls are good to you.

Thanksgiving at the Landing

Sunday was cool and windy but the sun still shone and there was no rain. I'll take that over grey and drizzly. I spent the early part of the afternoon baking muffins, as well as an apple betty and pumpkin pie to take with us. Nolan asked about every six and a half minutes, "How many more minutes 'til we go to Jakey-Jake's?" Shame he never gets excited about these things.

Around 3:30 we packed up and headed down to the Landing for dinner at Brian and Cheryl's. Paul's Mum and Dad were there, as were Marian, Ian and his Mum, and the cousins. We all visited for a bit and then sat down to a wonderful turkey dinner with all the fixin's.

Here's Jakey-Jake. He's a big Flames fan.
Okay, not really. He's a Leaf fan. Sad, isn't it?

After supper, Nolie asked if we could come back the next holiday. We're not talking Christmas here, we're talking Saturday.


Then, about 8:30 we all loaded back up in the van, took Paul's Mum and Dad home to Oshawa and then home we went. With very full tummies, we all hit the hay and slept like babies.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Things to Do On A Beautiful Fall Day

It's Thanksgiving weekend and life is good. Three glorious days at home and we're making the most of it. Saturday, we did something we've never done before and visited the Norwood Fair. What a fabulous fair! The midway's smaller than Lindsay, but it has a nice small-town feel to it. The show rings are outside and as we wandered around, we'd stop to check out the riders on horseback or the cattle or whatever was in the ring at the time. At noon, we stopped for the parade - this years theme was potatoes and spuds. You gotta love a parade with a bunch of potato heads walking around.


Dad and Elizabeth met up with us and we grabbed a little something to eat. Then back to the midway. Not sure who has more fun on the bumper cars, the big kids or the little kids but, one thing I do know, is there's always lots of big goofy smiles.



Around 4 we headed home to a simmering crockpot full of backward chicken and carrots. Rounded out with spuds from the backward garden, homemade pickles, peas from who-knows-where (still not over the pea-raids by Bambi and her evil friends), corn and pumpkin pie and we had a fine meal.

Today, we head down to Gore's Landing to break bread with Paul's family. The kids are pumped to see their cousins. Nolan even told his teacher he was going to be visiting Jakey-Jake this weekend. This is big stuff. We've lots of reasons to give thanks.

Lindsay Fair

Another reason to love the fall...
Yea for the Lindsay Fair!

Fall Has Arrived!

And you know what that means, right? It's time for the Lindsay Fair!! The kids are pumped and counting down the sleeps. Nolan has already called brother Enos and asked him if he'll go on the bumper cars with him. (Sure hope Nolie's tall enough.) And he also mentioned something about cotton candy. 'Cause, well, what's a fair without sugar. I've heard talk of a demo derby too, but I think that was brother Enos. He wants to go Friday night...due to the rain in the forecast. Right. No matter - this is how we celebrate autumn's arrival. And we're best not to tinker with tradition.

In the mad rush that is life, I haven't mentioned anything about Nolan's adventures at school. He successfully started last week and utterly enjoyed the first day. He's had a few tears since then but nothing too serious. So far, we haven't been able to get a seat for him on the bus so I get to play bus driver on JK days. We're the dinosaur bus, by the way, complete with picture taped in the window. No wimpy duck or frog for us. With any luck, though, we'll be able to get Nolie on the bus with Cammy and Ri. Fingers and toes are crossed.

First day of JK (in front of the dinosaur bus).