Our last few greens made it through this week’s freeze with the help of the cold frame. Wednesday morning’s temperature dipped down to -4 at chest height and certainly lower at ground level.
Month: November 2013
Ordering ‘Second Chance Dog: A Love Story’
This the title of Jon Katz’ latest book, published last Tuesday. The theme – second chances, redemption, finding love – is deeply appealing so I ordered the book from Battenkill Books, a great small book store in Cambridge NY.
I’ve had the good fortune to browse and buy at Battenkill, which is Mr. Katz’ local bookstore – he lives just outside Cambridge. I deliberately chose to buy there because it’s a great bookstore, it’s a local business (not local to me, true, yet still local.
Called the store a sort time ago to place my order. Mr Katz and is wife Maria are signing all copies ordered at Battenkill. When asked how I wanted it signed I replied ‘However he wishes’ at which point the phone was handed to Jon Katz.
We chatted for a few minutes. He thanked me for ordering the book and doing so through a small bookstore. I never considered otherwise.
Can’t wait to read it.
Kendal and Achilles
Taken with the PlayBook.
Kendal was on the couch between us, and Achilles came over wanting ti join the party. Kenrdal had recently finished licking one of our hands, I am anthropomorphizing (which is silly yet diverting and amusing at times) but it looks like Kendal is licking his chops in victory, “Ha ha, I’m up on the couch and you aren’t, ha ha!”
Glorious light
Every day is a good day to be alive.
Trash
This was our most recent contribution to the landfill. It’s a standard sized bag. The bag was mostly full and we decided it should go out.
We have weekly trash pickup and rarely have more than one bag to put out. In the summer we will put out a half full (or less) bag because of the odour. Sometimes in the winter we don’t bother. We live fairly lightly. Much of what we buy is not elaborately packaged. (We were appalled by how abundantly packaged, and shrink wrapped, and obnoxiously clamshelled, and cardboarded, stuff in Costco is.), We don’t eat very much prepared food. Most everything is done right here in our kitchen thanks to Faye. She loves cooking, substituting ingredients, modifying recipes, trying new recipes.
Back to trash. One of these posts I will show you how much dust and dog hair our Dyson slurps up. I could knit a fourth dog from what the Dyson collects.
Snow squall
I took a few photos on the way to work. Nothing dramatic as our town was on the edge of the squall to begin with, so after a mile or two on the road conditions were much improved.
Looking north along the edge of the snow squall.
A little farther west. Also looking north.
I stopped yet again a few miles farther to the west of the squall and took a few more photos.
Looking back east at the squall, the sun beginning emerge from the clouds made for a remarkable scene.
Finally, all clear to the west. A crystalline morning.
First snow
Taken with the PlayBook
Our first measurable snowfall started yesterday afternoon and has added up to perhaps 1 centimeter so far. we are just on the edge of a snow squall so we will probably get a little more – or perhaps a lot. The drive to work will be interesting.
A Veteran
This post is a tribute to, and in honour of, my father and all veterans who have served their country. It’s important to make time and space to remember and to tell their story.
This is a photo of my dad shortly after being commissioned a US Army 2nd Lieutenant in 1942. He had been in the army for a while before transferring to the Army Air Corps. He passed primary, basic, and advanced training before being assigned to the 316th Troop Carrier Group and learning to fly C-47s at Bergstrom Army Air Field outside Austin, Texas. (Bergstrom is now Austin-Bergstrom International Airport).
The 316th shipped to North Africa not long after dad and mom got married. The group supported British and US forces as they chased the Afrika Korps off the continent. The 316th then supported Operation Husky, the invasion of Sicily, in the summer of 1943. Dad went along as a passenger on a follow-up mission to drop paratroops at night. They flew over the invasion fleet shortly after German aircraft harassed the fleet. Regrettably (though understandably) Allied gunners opened fire on the transports, shooting down more than a few and damaging more. Dad’s plane was damaged, the pilot, co-pilot, and some of the paratroop passengers were wounded. Dad flew his plane back across the Mediterranean and safely landed at his base in Tunisia.
When he spoke about this experience, which was not often, he never claimed he was a hero. He did what he had to do, nothing more.
The 316th was transferred to England and supported the D-Day invasion; dad’s plane dropped a stick of troops near Ste. Mere-Eglise. I have had the good fortune to visit the village, its small church, and the American Cemetery on the bluff over Omaha Beach.
Dad was a quiet man. He did not easily share the joys, disappointments, horrors he saw and lived. He was a good and decent man.
I am very proud of my dad and proud to be his son.
Attentive
Faye was up to something in the kitchen, and Stella listened in.
Flat lands
Southwest Ontario is very, very flat. Some people can find the flatness boring, or, uninspiring, or depressing. It can be any an all of those.
I think the flatness can be inspiring, intriguing, mind-opening. You can see a very long way, for one thing. Our small town’s water tower is visible from ten miles away. Sunsets can be spectacular – the sun sinks below the horizon as flat as a calm lake, sea, ocean. Far-away thunderstorms are clearly visible. Bush scattered here are there is readily apparent.
Southwest Ontario is a good, ever-changing, intriguing place to live. One has to work a little mentally, visually, to find the beauty in the landscape. I like the challenge.
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