Summer 2011 - In pictures



There is no question about it. Summer has been full and fun this year. I've very much enjoyed having the flexibility of time off to spend with the children, and we've managed to get almost all the things we wanted to done, a remarkable feat for which my reward is three happy children. This last weekend we are back at the cottage, and after making them leap in the water (which is just a little more refreshing now than it was in July) and kayaking this morning, I am now enjoying an afternoon hour to myself, organizing the files on my laptop, updating my blog, catching up on my reading and generally preparing for next week when the lazy, low-hassle unscheduled days of summer come to an end.

But what a fabulous summer it has been. Here's a glimpse of some of the things we've been up to.

On The Ski Bob in Lake Simcoe

Grandad's Boat

At the Zoo

Grace learns to dive

Campfire

Leaping in the Lake

Cottage Kayaking

Off to Cub Camp

Medieval Festival

Making Hay

Erik Ziplining

War of 1812 Reenactment

Water Babies in the pool

Green Belts

Summertime

Splashing in the pool...

Lazy days at the lake...

Red wine in the sunset...

Daytrips with friends....

Picnics on the beach...

Morning stretches and coffee on the veranda...

Walks through the meadow....

Whiling away an afternoon with a book under a shady tree...

Leisurely breakfasts with the kids...

Line dried laundry and open windows...

Flowers in the garden and the aroma of ripening tomatoes...

Paddling down a winding river...

Sitting around a campfire...

Watching fireflies on a hot summer night...

Bike rides on Saturday mornings...

Steak on the barbecue...

Lounging in the hammock...

The smell of fresh cut grass wafting on the breeze...

Time Stands Still

I wish I painted. Even photography can't always do justice. I'm at the lake this week with the kids, and we are spending our days swimming and canoeing and reading. And last night, sitting down by the campfire, I looked up to see Anna and Grace standing beside the cliff, the lake and trees and sunset behind them, and I wanted to paint.

The sun shone into them, flickers of light that encased them in mellow gold. Grace wore dark denim jeans and a yellow peasant top and Anna had on pink shorts and an aqua shirt that I would never have imagined together, but that really worked. As they stood together, their blonde tresses flying in the breeze and their tanned, laughing faces relaxed and happy, the rosy glow from the fire before them and a streak of scarlet behind as the sun descended in the sky, I had one of those moments where you just want to capture it forever and never let it go.

I had neither camera nor brush and they'd I'm sure be rolling their eyes if I told them how, in that instant, time paused for me, and I drank it all in greedily, ignoring the smoke that got in my eyes, the haunting call of the loons on the lake, and the deer flies (oh, the deer flies) that flew around my head looking for fresh flesh. Knowing I could not make time really stand still, I wanted, needed, to imprint it on my memory.

Two girls, with the world before them. And nothing to hold them back.

Summer Reads

I'm going to try (try, I said) to post about books on Fridays in honour of #FridayReads (if you are not familiar with this, go here). I'm not promising erudite discussion. If you want that, you need to check out An Attitude Adjustment's Maladjusted Book Club, the always insightful Pickle Me This, or the lovely Dove Grey Reader, just a few of the amazing book bloggers out there. (On top of finding time to read books, I have to find time to read book clogs - it's a terrible addiction).

To kick things off, I have made myself a Summer Reading List. As I look over the mix of new and familiar books, I think it may be overly ambitious. But it's summer, and I want to kick back with some good reads both here and at the cottage (and how awesomely I am looking forward to my first ever vacation with my Kobo - no more lugging an extra 20lb bag of books everywhere.)

So here's my list, in no particular order:

 The Postmistress by Sarah Blake has been highly recommended and in light of the Ethics course I am teaching this fall, I am interested in some of the issues it examines. The book tells ther story of a postmistress' decision not to deliver a letter on the eve of World War II, and the repercussions from that decision.

 The Eight by Katherine Neville is one I have read a number of times before and love. It was one of the first books I remember reading that told parallel stories in two different times, and the first book that I ever read about the Philosopher's stone (now so famous, thanks Harry Potter). It is intricate and historical and long (800 pages) and I look forward to reading it again.

 The Book Thief by Markus Zusak - YA and, according to one friend, "Intense, gripping, and overwhelming." (Thanks, Christine). Set against the backdrop of Nazi Germany, Liesel shares stolen books with her neighbours and a Jewish man hiding in the basement.

 The Bruce Trilogy by Nigel Trantner. Whew! After all that heavy reading, how about something light. Well - sort of. The historical tale of Robert the Bruce (this is a trilogy) has been sitting on my shelf for years after a rescue from a library purge, and this is the year I am going to read it.

 Agatha Christie - There is a Christie read-a-thon going on which is what prompted me to add some of these to my list. It's been decades - yes, really - since I first discovered my mother's collection of mysteries and fell in love with these fun, quick reads, and I am going to reacquaint myself with some of my favourites: The Murder at the Vicarage, 4:50 from Paddington, The Mirror Crack'd, Murder on the Orient Express, And Then There Were None. Not sure yet. I'll probably spread them out through the summer...

 The Art of Racing In The Rain by Garth Stein. Told from the point of view of a dog, c'mon, what's not to love? Have not read it, but have heard good things about how this book gives great insight into the human condition. Well, dogs are good for that. The human condition. (Leans down to scratch labrador's ears).

 Paradise Lost by Milton. I might regret this. I am not as into classsic poetry today as I was when I first looked at this epic piece of literature. But I am more interested in the period, so we will see.

 Sweetness In The Belly by Camilla Gibb. Another book that has been on my "to read" list for a very, very long time.

 Room by Emma Donoghue. I must read this book. I must. I must. But somehow despite knowing this, I keep putting it off, knowing that once I pick it up I will be simultaneously horrified and uplifted.

 The Weed That Strings The Hangman's Bag by Alan Bradley. The second Flavia de Luce book, and the first one (The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie) just captivated me after a dry reading spell. I am excited to pick up this, and see it whiling away a rainy afternoon up by the lake.

 The Great Gatsby by F Scott Fitzgerald. I've read this before, of course, but when I taught short stories last semester at the college, we had an animated discussion on Fitzgerald's Winter Dreams and I sold the students on this book. Sold myself too. Am going to pick it up again. While playing Count Basie. Loudly.

 To The Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf. Another book I have read. But I feel I have never really got it. It's like I almost get it, but then it slips away from me. I think it's a book best read in solitude, and I always have interruptions. My plan is to try again the week of July 16-23. Why that week? Because my three adorable kids will be away at cub camp. All week. Yes, that sigh you hear is anticipation. Me and the dog and the rose bushes. And Virginia. If I don't "get it" then, I never will.

I am also re-reading Jude the Obscure for Jana's Madadjusted Book Club, and either Crow Lake or The Other Side of the Bridge (can't recall which) by Mary Lawson for my Red Tent book club. And some books I have edited are being released over the summer - I'll be reading them. And subs. Got three to read right now.

What are YOU reading this summer? Do share.

Summer School

School is out soon, and two long hot, fun months of summer begin. I am off this summer - or rather working from home, which is really not quite the same, but will give me the flexibility to take to the kids to parks, the beach, daytrips, the cottage and camping.

And one of the things we do each year is summer school.

I can hear the groans now.

It isn't to be mean, or because the kids need remedial help. Not at all. But two months of summer, while relaxing and rejuvenating and laid back, is also two months away from all the writing and math and french and science, and frankly, when the kids do return to school in September, it always feels like it takes a month for them to get back into the swing of things. A little bit of work through the summer seems to ease that transition.

There is another reason. So much of what they do in school is done, well, in school. But teachers as we all know are spread thin with so many students, and summer is a chance for me to focus in on what the kids do well and help them in areas where they may struggle. The one-on-one experience also allows them to try new things, and to expand on the learning they are already doing.

For us, summer school is largely self-guided. I want to have them read books that interest them, and be able to write about them. I want them to research a topic that fascinates them, partly because research ability is crucial, but also to show them that it can be fun. I want them to get comfortable with thinking and discussing the kind of topics that you may never get a chance to do in school. And most of all, I want to show them that learning is active and hands on and exciting when you are able to engage with your subject.

So summer school. But no desks. The world will be our desk.

Summer

I'll be honest, it hasn't feel much like summer. Rain, rain. Cold days. A desire to light a little fire in the evenings. I mean, really, what is that about?

But here I am on the Friday of the long Victoria Day weekend, thinking summer is here.

And although it is overcast outside (but warm at last), there are a number of signs that make me believe this. Here's my top ten.

1. It's the long weekend. So it has to be summer.
2. My Bridal Spirea are in full beautiful bloom.
3. The grass needs to be cut. Again.
4. My Linden Tree has leafed (and this makes me so incredibly happy after the disasterous events of last summer...Just glad it survived, even if we don't get the full lime smell and visual glory this year.)
5. There were June bugs last night cracking their little hard bodies against the windows.
6. The windows are all open and the breeze is sweet.
7. There are packages of seeds all over the kitchen and a roughly drawn garden sketch.
8. It's Erik's birthday tomorrow and I promised him summer would start on his birthday every year (because I'm his mom and I can make promises like that).
9. I can sit and have lunch on the veranda without a sweater.
10. It's the long weekend. So it has to be summer. Yes that's repeated, but it's the most important point.

Happy Victoria Day Weekend, everyone.

Vacation

What is summer without a relaxing week at the cottage? I blogged about it last year, about the cottage itself, the boating and the campfires, and really, nothing has changed much since then, so I won't repeat what I already wrote - though I could wax poetic about that kind of week forever.

This year, we did all the same things. The kids can leap off the rock into the deep water without life jackets now so that was new. Eagle Island was still there with pools of cray fish, and the two loons that give the cottage lane its name still call mournfully across the still lake.

Morning and evening canoe rides, three-times-a-day swims, constant food, campfires (and marshmallows), and exploring the forest and rocks (and finding a wasp nest that stung Erik 15 times and he was so brave).

On the weekend Andrew came down, and the whole family came Saturday for a surprise birthday party for Anna (which she said was the best part of the week).

My favourite part: that moment you get standing on a warm rock in the sun, gazing into the cool sunlit lake, right before you dive. Knowing that it will feel so cold when you hit the water, and so exhilarating once it is done.

Where did they go?

Where did they go, those little children of mine?

Two years ago we went to the Williamstown Fair and hand-in-hand we walked around the grounds. The children went with trepidation on some of the rides, waving every time they caught my eye, and stayed close to my side, their eyes aglow in the sensory overload of music and colour, hustle and bustle.

Last year we were at the Cottage and missed the fair. But we returned this year. And what a difference.

There's Alex, said Erik, racing off after his school friend.

We'll meet you at the ticket booth, called out a nonchalent Anna as she and two friends strolled by.

It's okay. I'm riding with these guys, Grace tells me when I suggest we go and look at the booths, concerned that her brother and sister have abandoned her for their own friends.

And I find myself alone in a crowd, holding cotton candy bags and half finished drinks, extra sweaters and stuffed animals won at the fair.

I watch them run around, happy, confident, at ease in this world that used to be so foreign to them. I watch them ride the Spider  and the Scrambler-rides I loved as a child, and other rides that I wouldn't go on today, but which doesn't seem to bother them at all.

I look around and see I am not, in fact, alone. There are other parents like myself, whose children - 8, 9, 10, on the brink of adolescence - are expressing a new sudden independence in this place that is at once new and exciting and yet familiar to them.

It's wonderful to see. But yet I wonder.

Where did they go? Those small children?

When did they get so big?

The 100 Mile Challenge

As previously mentioned, I am participating this week in the 100 mile challenge. Oh I am no longer living in Creemore where the challenge came from, but saw no reason for that to impede my participation.

Realistically I know the limitations of eating as locally as possible. So for my purposes, I decided that for this week we would focus on eating dinner from ingredients that were sourced as locally as possible. I even scoured the LCBO for two bottles of wine from nearby Prince Edward County, although I know there are wineries closer.

And then I planned my menu for the week.

Saturday: Hamburgers & Potato Thyme Salad - our beef, home made buns, farmer market tomatoes, and  lettuce, baby red potatoes and thyme all from the garden. Glazed Peach Pie - farmer's market peaches, homemade crust.

Sunday: Sausages and mashed potato with Carrots - sausages from local butcher (who buys local meat), potatoes and carrots from the garden. Peach Raspberry Pie - using farmer's market peaches and frozen raspberries we picked ourselves in July.
OOPS - we also had nachos and homemade guac - none of which was local.

Monday: Caesar Salad - all garden fresh ingredients for salad, and local bacon. Can't vouch for where the anchovy paste, parmesan, red wine vinegar and mayo came from for the dressing; Chicken kabobs - from our local butcher.

Tuesday: Grilled Rosemary Lamb Chops and wilted spinach salad - home grown lamb, garden herbs, garlic and spinach, farmers market red onion and grocery store Feta.

Wednesday: Beef on a bun - our prime beef, garden onions, homemade (bread machine, anyway) bread; garden cabbage and garden green salad.

Thursday: Quiche - fresh local eggs, local artisanal cheese, bacon from the local butcher, served with a pasta salad with cherry tomatoes, grated cheese, and fresh basil.

Friday: Going to the Williamstown Fair - have no idea what scrumptious local food we will find there.

And thus ends my 100 mile week. It's easy and yet - at the same time - not as easy as it sounds.

Highland Games

This weekend was the Glegarry Highland Games - a weekend of piping and dancing, competition and bands, scottish food, and good parties.

We spent the weekend there - pulled our picnic blanket, chairs, and basket of goodies up to the hill around the arena and watched the Men's and Women's Heavyweight Championships: burly men in kilts tossing Hammers and Cabers in the air. For Fun.

The girls had a blast running around the grounds, meeting up with school friends and generally enjoying themselves.

Erik liked the pipe bands, but LOVED the old cars on display. He wants one of these:

Yeah - I don't think so either!

Andrew joined us Friday evening and we watched the Tattoo which started off with parachuters, and then rocked the Fairgrounds with the massed bands and a celtic band from Scotland who were pretty terrific.

As for me, I like to listen to the pipe bands. They entered the field in a swirl of mist and sent a chill down my spine. Terrific stuff. Takes me back to my years in Halifax. We were there until almost 10:30 pm when the Tattoo ended with a fireworks display and the massed bands were the last things we heard as we hauled three sleepy kids back to the cars. But they were up bright and early keen to get back to it.

Another Games over, another successful year. See you again in 2011.

So Much To Do...

...Before the end of the summer.

• Hike on the Canadian Shield
• Dive into a clear lake
• Take my girls on a long bike ride
• Star gazing
• Family Fun Adventure
• Camping Trip with the kids
• Waterslides
• R&R at the Cottage with BOOKS
• Chase a sunrise in the canoe
• Chase a sunset in the canoe
• Marguerita Party at the pool
• BBQ at the Beach
• Highland Games
• Williamstown Fair

Better book a couple of weeks off...

Intrepid Explorers

One of the greatest things about living where we do (ie: the middle of nowhere) is that there is lots of scope for the kids.

I'm bored is a phrase rarely heard, partly because they know I'll make them weed carrots or something equally entertaining, and partly because there are lots of opportunities for adventure.

When they were toddlers, I'd let them out for a few minutes at a time without me, as long as they stayed in sight from the french doors. As they got older, I just had to be able to sight them from one of the windows in the house, and the boundary line was the maple tree and the Enchanted Forest, the pastures, and the fence in the back.

Three years ago when they were 7,6, and 4, on a pleasant sunny winter's day when I was spackling the kitchen ceiling and they were restless, we gave them a walkie talkie, set them up on their skis and allowed them to cross the field and back. We checked on them with binoculars, but the sense of independence and joy they got from that expedition was worth every second of extra time the ceiling took as a result.

And today, they are adventurous, independent, spirited explorers. They know first aid and safety. They carry water and granola and walkie talkies, and they explore. They make plans, make maps, and make forts.

And make memories.

Days of Summer

Summertime...and the living is easy...

The jazzy notes tumble out of the open window and here on the porch swing, in this instant, it seems true. Summer is easy - no need to match clothes for the kids for school....they toss on shorts over their swimsuits and are off;  dinners tend to be simple...barbecues and salads, and fresh ripe berries for dessert; bed time has more flexibility....we are often up until close to sunset biking or playing croquet in the coolness of evening.

In this instant, the living is easy.

But that is mostly because I have a knack for enjoying the moment and pretending there is nothing outside of it.

In this space, there is no half-acre garden to re-mulch, no weeds to pull, no flowers to deadhead and nurture. There is no hay to bale, no sheep to tag, no grass to mow, no driveway verge to trim. The mud room does not hold the remnants of a school year's worth of artwork and books and papers to be organized, and dressers are not overflowing with pants and skirts and shirts and sweaters that will be too small come Autumn and need to be sorted.

In this space, we are not planning camping trips and beach picnics, a week at the cottage and a canoe trip into the wilderness. We are not counting down the days until the Highland Games or the Williamstown Fair - must-do things in our summer. We are not still working, and grocery shopping, and heading off on hot sultry nights to sit at the site of a soccer field and watch the kids play. We do not have eight family birthdays to celebrate before September.

In this moment, in this space, in this instant, there is only the sweet jazzy belief that summer is, in fact, easy.

Hay Season: Hitching a Ride

Bittersweet

I like to enjoy a glass of red wine on the veranda as the sun sets. The Linden Tree is in full bloom, the scent of lime drifting by on the breeze, and red-winged blackbirds chase each other in and out of the small copse of trees beyond the wild roses. The sights, sounds and smells of early summer make it a nice way to wind down on a Friday night.

I took these pictures on the weekend. My Linden tree with its sweet-smelling blossoms, hanging over me like a bower.

It's a bittersweet remembrance now. My van spontaneously caught fire yesterday. Luckily the fire was caught before it spread to my new veranda, but not before the heat of it had destroyed the vehicle and scorched the surrounding trees - my growing Ash sapling, a mature Pine, and my beautiful Linden tree.

We knew some branches would have to go, but today I noticed the curled leaves on the veranda side of the tree. Brown and fragile, the leaves and blossoms are just a shell of what they were, and I cry not for the van - which can be replaced - but for my trees.

There is hope. We may still be able to save the tree as it is not damaged all the way up.

But I write this with sadness in my heart.