tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2301230921424520052024-03-14T03:40:45.158-04:00The Craft GardenRamblings, vintage, treasure hunting, crafting, crochet, quilting, cooking, decorating, dogs, pets, baking, household tips, quotes, poems, artAinehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.comBlogger56125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-47560761100681492062009-11-30T19:19:00.000-05:002010-03-17T14:30:26.119-04:00<div align="justify"><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-family:verdana;"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-size:100%;color:#000066;">An ugly phone I bought for just two dollars has had a beautiful make over. I love tissue paper and have a wonderful collection of it. I picked out a pretty rose pattern and I glued it onto the phone with Modge Podge. I left the dial plain and put a little Hello in the centre of the dial face. So here it is. I am very pleased with how it turned out.</span> </span></span><br /></span><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju211tYEmxugib0lRgXXYMoc-0nu_HZ1mrUMkhksAwN66t7g5zCub_LflcypqFGQujtNwshAHnJ0Y7uggyk-pSZGnT1Bc1XnsQ4hO1nIwy3JMlEZIjoAklkgHsNWh80gKQmVRArqlXNcY/s1600-r/phone2.JPG"></a></span><br /><br /><br /></div><p align="justify"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; DISPLAY: block; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139515808964013074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxjIL2FAbqc0JC-h1LlK3whFYQYvawgxHMnb28jj1upNaxVhL2AtblP6KNhtUTpizbDkwSmx3QosTZVjHgCa-SUTKjYXmecUDQbNJ-dNmDtaZiHyjotJqD3sZWCdFIJFaEX5eihHr6YlM/s320/phone2.JPG" /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;">I've also been working on a project to give as gifts. They have turned out nicely and I will share the pattern in this post. I buy a bundle of these plastic hangers very inexpensively at our local department store. Then I just use left over yarn from other projects. They are wonderful to use to hang those clothes that have that nasty habit of slipping off the hanger. The pattern looks a bit long and drawn out but it's just that way to give you an idea of the way it works up. After you have made one side of this, you will be whipping them up without even thinking about the pattern. It's that easy.</span> </p><br /><br /><p><strong><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg55RcXSyGlrLUatRt13CpoXQuyl5CtJLdgspjmEq7DBUwY974ZAWnBoaQQoKVuLkTD-5P_XKn3Mauuu2wd4Xh-sE_Bm4hyphenhyphenc35kmm0VvkVEbjSm18pj8tJMzrNyYoFLOAFYfNiuxFjwfBY/s1600-r/hanger.JPG"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; FLOAT: left; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139517295022697506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipZLFxwHI6wKqzVQpNluw6M726q5K9lH_QaH2n7no5lJ9I6v82PRheqY2nQ_CM6ctfrNtyMbEVWwDEIY3cFb8kEIsudsMxIOlBmbagdU6byjUGLGVl7fQZhW-OgzCkR6HKbFMg6td92Eg/s320/hanger.JPG" /></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"><em>Coat Hanger Covers</em></span></span></strong><span style="color:#009900;"><em><strong> </strong></em></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">Ch 4, join with slst to form ring.</span> </p><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#009900;"><em><strong>Rnd 1:</strong></em></span> Chain 3, 1 dc , ch 1, 2 dc in ring, (beginning shell) ch 2, * 2dc, ch 1, 2 dc (shell), ch 2. Repeat from * twice more. Join to top of ch 3 with a slst. </span></p><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#009900;"><em><strong>Rnd 2:</strong></em></span> Sl st into next dc and next ch 1 space. Beg shell in ch 1 sp, ch 2.. * Skip next ch 2 sp. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 2. Repeat from * twice more. Skip next ch 2 sp, join to top of ch 3 with slst.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><strong><em><span style="color:#009900;">Rnd 3:</span></em></strong> Sl st into next dc and next ch 1 space. Beg shell in ch 1 sp, ch 2.. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 3. Skip next ch 2 sp, shell, ch 2 in ch1 space. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 3. Skip next ch 2 sp, join to top of ch 3 with slst.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><strong><em><span style="color:#009900;">Rnd 4:</span></em></strong> Sl st into next dc and next ch 1 space. Beg shell in ch 1 sp, ch 2.. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 3. Skip next ch 3 sp, shell, ch 2 in ch1 space. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 3. Skip next ch 3 sp. join to top of ch 3 with slst.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><strong><em><span style="color:#009900;">Rnd 5:</span></em></strong> Sl st into next dc and next ch 1 space. Beg shell in ch 1 sp, ch 2.. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 4. Skip next ch 3 sp, shell, ch 2 in ch1 space. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 4. Skip next ch 3 sp, join to top of ch 3 with slst.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><strong><em><span style="color:#009900;">Rnd 6:</span></em></strong> Sl st into next dc and next ch 1 space. Beg shell in ch 1 sp, ch 2.. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 4. Skip next ch 4 sp, shell, ch 2 in ch1 space. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 4. Skip next ch 4 sp, join to top of ch 3 with slst.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><strong><em><span style="color:#009900;">Rnd 7:</span></em></strong> Sl st into next dc and next ch 1 space. Beg shell in ch 1 sp, ch 2.. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 5. Skip next ch 4 sp, shell, ch 2 in ch1 space. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 4. Skip next ch 4 sp, join to top of ch 3 with slst.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><strong><em><span style="color:#009900;">Rnd 8:</span></em></strong> Sl st into next dc and next ch 1 space. Beg shell in ch 1 sp, ch 2.. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 5. Skip next ch 5 sp, shell, ch 2 in ch1 space. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 5. Skip next ch 5 sp, join to top of ch 3 with slst.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#009900;"><strong><em>Rnd 9:</em></strong></span> Sl st into next dc and next ch 1 space. Beg shell in ch 1 sp, ch 2.. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 6. Skip next ch 5 sp, shell, ch 2 in ch1 space. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 6. Skip next ch 5 sp, join to top of ch 3 with slst.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"><em><span style="color:#009900;"><strong>Rnd 10:</strong></span></em> Sl </span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">st into next dc and next ch 1 space. Beg shell in ch 1 sp, ch 2.. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 6. Skip 6 ch sp , shell, ch 2 in ch1 space. Skip next ch 2. In next ch 1 space, shell, ch 6. Skip next ch 6 sp, join to top of ch 3 with slst.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">Continue in this fashion until you reach 8 or 9 stitches between the two shell sets. I crochet mine with a 4.5mm hook and usually 8 stitches are enough at my personal gauge. Check your piece by sliding it onto the hanger from time to time. You may need to do more or less than I do. Remember to make these slightly small so they have to be stretched onto the hanger. That way they don’t become loose with wear and tear.<br /></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">Make two of these and sew together at the ch 1 on each side. Crochet a flower or tie a ribbon at the top for decoration. </span><br /></span><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><div align="justify"><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">If you decide to try this pattern out, please let me know how it goes or if I need to make any changes. I'm not used to writing instructions for my work. I’d love to see how yours turn out. Happy crocheting!</span> </span><br /><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000066;"></span></div>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-46740613189242121342009-11-16T18:47:00.001-05:002009-11-16T18:47:14.598-05:00Check out YogamintTitle: Yogamint<br /><br />Link: http://gotaf.socialtwist.com/redirect?l=301550680945710799411Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-81184410955048574682009-01-18T16:43:00.004-05:002009-08-19T10:53:31.327-04:00Fifty and counting<span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc0000;">Today is my 50th birthay. It doesn't feel any different than any other birthday. I'm not doing anything today because my son is throwing me a surprize party next weekend. Ha, ha. You can't trick me!!! He is inviting several new friends from town, my sister-in-law, my niece and nephew, all my cousins and one of my two remaining aunts.<br /><br />I miss my mother really badly today. She never got to see either of her children turn 50. I am willing to celebrate because I know she would want me to. I haven't really celebrated a birthday since my brother died in 1985. I guess it's time.<br /><br />Fifty is worth celebrating!!! Tonight Paul is making pizza and we are renting a movie. Alex gave me season three of Boston Legal. I guess that means that Paul will get season two next week. </span>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-62651922240442125252008-10-24T10:17:00.001-04:002009-08-19T10:47:28.165-04:00my two new degus<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">My vet played on my sorrow. She called me to tell me she knew how much I was missing all my little pets. She also mentioned that someone had dropped of a pair of degus at the front door of her office. She knew I loved pocket pets and wanted to give me first dibs on them. I didn't really want them but I went and had a look . . . and fell in love. </span><div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"></span></div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhatzudMhYHrYqPQS8EE7kfIHSbWSD3NMTrptoeBqTlpffLYeh38cdbkcoQMlxpXsBab8TBbXkQPbx2MuTRC2Q4MXyd_novp1o7w6p3mBpBeOpqrqvUee9mdbzPN_1UsbMd-pby9Aac0Eo/s1600-h/Gildie+behind+wheel.JPG"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371683127707762994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhatzudMhYHrYqPQS8EE7kfIHSbWSD3NMTrptoeBqTlpffLYeh38cdbkcoQMlxpXsBab8TBbXkQPbx2MuTRC2Q4MXyd_novp1o7w6p3mBpBeOpqrqvUee9mdbzPN_1UsbMd-pby9Aac0Eo/s320/Gildie+behind+wheel.JPG" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">They are to male degus and I named them Rosencratz and Gildenstern or Rosie and Gildie for short. I've had to do a lot of research because I knew nothing about degus. What I did find out that is very important is that they should be kept in pairs or better. Lone degus develop behavioural issues. They can become less tame and even vicious without a companion. Keep two male or two females to keep from having unwanted pets. </span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"></span></div><div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimO6l7j52nSbpGPthmA4wmycoKJIC5Nxs1aNsI9Jhyphenhyphen7MT2dMvTC0uCUIaU2ryMUjuLHhosppRWBqH5VJxHm6mENSVErMFUao_icuV6lqxiCnH4dCyJ9KomURRMaqHH0JK3ZSIGWrRVn9w/s1600-h/Untitled-1.jpg"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371683216097121250" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimO6l7j52nSbpGPthmA4wmycoKJIC5Nxs1aNsI9Jhyphenhyphen7MT2dMvTC0uCUIaU2ryMUjuLHhosppRWBqH5VJxHm6mENSVErMFUao_icuV6lqxiCnH4dCyJ9KomURRMaqHH0JK3ZSIGWrRVn9w/s320/Untitled-1.jpg" border="0" /></span></a></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">I put two wheels in their home because they didn't want to share it. Two degus going in two different directions in one wheel makes for a lot of squeeking! Once in a while one will be on the outside of the wheel and the other inside and that works out fairly well. But the second wheel has solved all our problems.</span></div><div><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;"></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">Notice how I attach the wheel to the top of the cage. This allows for more room on the floor and keeps the wheel very stable while they run.</span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#3333ff;">We are also in the process of getting another dog. A friend is bording dogs for her friend whose marriage ended. She cannot keep her dogs so they are splitting them up. We have decided on getting the pittieX. I will have her next week.</span> </span></div><div><span style="font-size:130%;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><em>"You become responsible forever for what you have tamed."</em></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff6600;"><em>~Antoine de Saint-Exupery</em></span></div><div></div><div></div></div>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-43791006838795501862008-10-11T09:45:00.002-04:002009-08-19T10:55:33.753-04:00Good-bye Q-Tip<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993300;">Q-Tip died in my arms last night at 4:00 am. He was not quite four years old and I was told he was a year when I got him. Of all my pocket pets, I loved him the most. He used to sit on the desk with me while I typed. Good-bye little piggy. Thanks for being a part of my life.</span><br /></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxtY0_nUTdaKP5PELTyiGpyRwduHWMvrcJdNLVZpQhvqhU7h75aCdcql8zSAoPVZxEtD0JwjQyGU0mZ2sQevQRNhe7lMdEfe6ylsE1ma0NcwAYwFA4VRL_FN0OTF9csXaIZ5nQF1IDQL4/s1600-h/q-tip's+sweater.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371671668463317442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 283px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxtY0_nUTdaKP5PELTyiGpyRwduHWMvrcJdNLVZpQhvqhU7h75aCdcql8zSAoPVZxEtD0JwjQyGU0mZ2sQevQRNhe7lMdEfe6ylsE1ma0NcwAYwFA4VRL_FN0OTF9csXaIZ5nQF1IDQL4/s400/q-tip's+sweater.jpg" border="0" /></a>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-39217688284811681692008-09-22T23:01:00.004-04:002009-08-19T10:59:28.336-04:00Goodbye Dr. Livingstone<span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;">Last night when we went to feed him is supper, Paul and I found our little </span><a href="http://www.ottawahumane.ca/gerbils.pdf"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;">gerbil</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;"> Dr. Livingstone has passed away. I am heartbroken yet again for another loss. Tiny as he was, he provided great entertainment for me as he was housed in a 20 gallon low boy aquarium on my computer desk.<br /><br />Paul and Alex found him outside one evening three years ago, walking down the edge of someone's driveway. The caught him and brought him home to me, knowing I would love him and also that he wouldn't have survived a cold Canadian winter. Or worse, ended up some cat's dinner.<br /><br /></span><a href="http://www.twinsqueaks.com/index.php"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#996633;">Gerbils</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;color:#cc9933;"><span style="color:#996633;"> are amazing pets. We bought play sand for him and gave him shredded paper. He made the rest of his bedding himself with toilet paper rolls, paper cup holders and whatever else we tossed in his home.<br /><br />He is already sadly missed.<br /></span><br /><span style="color:#996633;">Thank you Dr. Livingstone, my little explorer, for the three years of companionship you gave to me.</span></span>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-90112829892366328002008-09-15T22:55:00.000-04:002008-09-22T23:01:05.323-04:004 Here or 2 Go CafeIt's been a while since I posted on my blog. Paul, Alex and I have been very busy getting his cafe up and running. It's called Alex's 4 Here or 2 Go Cafe. I am pleased to say that the town of Colborne has been very supportive for him. <br /><br />In time, Paul is going to work for Alex and give up his job at Home Depot. He has a terrible shift and doesn't like the commute. The cafe is within walking distance. It will be nice in winter knowing that both my guys aren't having to travel the highway in bad weather.<br /><br />The Cafe serves soups, salads and sandwiches as well as baked goods, ice cream and other sweets. I am so very proud of Alex and the job he's doing!Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-75487462237049690442008-07-31T19:03:00.002-04:002009-08-19T11:02:48.372-04:00Goodbye Sweet Dexter<span style="font-size:130%;color:#3333ff;">Today I am sad. Q-Tip is being treated for an absess in his foot. I thought it wasn't healing and the vet suggested perhaps it was a mass and surgery would be the best option. She also told me the guinea pigs don't do well coming out of surgery and we might lose him while he was under. Feeling like I was trapped between a rock and a hard place, I opted for the surgery. I cuddled Q-Tip last night and gave him some extra love.<br /><br />I took Q-Tip to the vet and went home to await a call which I believed would be bad news. When I got home, I noticed Dexter's breathing was very laboured. I called the vet and the reciptionist said to bring him in when I came to get Q-Tip as the vet saw noticed improvement in his foot and decided not to operate.<br /><br />Michelle checked Dex over and told me he had pneumonia. She gave him a shot to try and releave his congestion and put him on meds. She also told me the GP's get this virus and usually pass within the next couple of months never really coming off the meds totally. I was happy to try anything but was sent him with my sickly Dexter knowing the next twenty-four hours were going to tell if he survived. He didn't. He passed about an hour after seeing the vet.<br /><br />It always seems to work this way for me. When I'm so busy watching out of one thing, something else quietly slips out the back door. Dexter would have been lost without Q-Tip because he cried everytime I took Q out of the cage. Q-Tip doesn't seem to be grieving too much because Dex used to pick on him a bit. I on the other hand, am grieving deeply.<br /><br />There has been so much loss in my life these past nine month. The size or genus of a creature has little bearing on how much I mourn. I miss my little Dex who gave me so much in the three short years I had of his four year life.<br /><br />Goodbye Dexter, my sweetie boy.</span>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-63730351974853431742008-06-23T19:50:00.004-04:002009-08-19T11:03:16.115-04:00Together for eternity<span style="font-size:130%;">Today I interned my mother in with my father who has been waiting for her since July 21, 1986. I waited this long because I wanted to bring them together on their anniversary. It was a quiet little service with a immediate family in attendence. David Dean, a lone piper, played Amazing Grace at the graveside as my husband Paul offered her commital. She rests with my father, Harry Adolph Lemire and across from my brother, Harvey Joseph Rene Lemire, at </span><a href="http://www.mountpleasantgroupofcemeteries.ca/our_cemeteries/thornton_cemetery.asp"><span style="font-size:130%;">Thornton Road Cemetery in Oshawa ON.</span></a><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br />Special thanks to my Aunt Sally for hosting a luncheon at her house after the service. Thank to cousins, Sherry, Valerie, Susie, Heather and Aunt Barb for their contributions to the day.</span>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-8969296826932517222008-05-29T22:41:00.007-04:002008-07-20T18:36:13.870-04:00Finishing up some UFO's<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"><strong>My mother died on January 2, 2008. In her wake she left several broken hearts and a closet full of unfinished projects. I know she had every intention of finishing them, just as I do mine. The idea of getting rid of them feels like discarding out hours of her life. I find myself clinging to what's left of her but I also know that I can't keep everything she ever started and didn't finish. So I'm going through some of the things deciding what to finish what to pack up and send out into the world and what to discard completely. </strong></span><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="color:#333300;"><strong>Finished is better than perfect</strong></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#333300;"><strong>~Anonymous<br /></strong></span><br /></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Most of her Cross Stitch I'm going to get rid of. I've got tons of plastic canvas and plastic canvas patterns that I'm going to get rid of as well. I don't do plastic canvas myself. </strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"><strong>One of the things I've decided to finish is an Afghan. There was just one more row to complete it. I've finished the blocks now I just have to sew them onto the afghan. </strong></span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc0000;"><strong>Clearing out my mother's UFOs has given me a lot to think about regarding my own. I have two sons and neither one of them are going to want to finish my projects. Most of them were lovingly started with the intention of being finished. Some of them found their way to the finish line but most are still in boxes. I read once on the Internet about a way to make yourself finish those unfinished projects. You are allowed to start a new project only if you finish and old one first and then you must also finish the new project that you're starting. Before you can start another new project again, you must finish an old one. I've been trying this and it is working fairly well.</strong></span> </p><p></p>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-13764699254911954212008-05-29T12:34:00.005-04:002008-05-29T16:00:17.698-04:00Robins at Elena House<div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"><strong>We have a pair of robins nesting on our front porch. They are such devoted parents. They never seem to tire of their commitment and who work together </strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205839812790607730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbO2tMiKVqmTjZBn2-f3LoMBBLxT4nSDv-KlBxV1LA8KJ2eFaMkzOabXcGGfhPBKFUEk3IP7ka25VWRwtU3M7yTrGl_7WYSJFpfJkPX3u2SG02expFU81xzWvCgboTqzzPZsAI3u_Y_Yg/s400/robin+on+nest.JPG" border="0" />I finally got to see the babies. There are four of them. Mother and Father take turns bringing back mouths full of chewed worms, white grubs the occassional beetle. The babies pop up their fuzzy little heads and cry, "Me, me, me, me!!!! I cannot use my front door at the moment but it's worth it, having a front row seat to one of nature's vignettes.</strong></span></div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#990000;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"><strong>Hope is the thing with feathers</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"><strong>That perches in the soul</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"><strong>And sings the tune without the words </strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"><strong>And never stops — at all...</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#00cccc;"><strong>~ E. Dickinson</strong></span> </div><div align="center"> </div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"><strong></strong></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#990000;"><strong> </div></strong></span>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-21721683671871835382008-05-26T10:00:00.010-04:002008-05-29T12:18:08.845-04:00Apple Blossom Tyme Festival<div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>What a fun time we had this weekend here in Colborne at </strong></span><a href="http://www.appleblossomtyme.com/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>Apple Blossom Tyme Festival</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong> . For such a small community, the event is quite large. </strong></span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205831583633268450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZwKcZLYraQpjWmqX_zlO9zyx6-YAAN5ZqpIHBUMPToJn6AfIPH7FRfylg1Mi9Y7gaBmYUc65FvVQd7EOi9dO60UJ45Gcows8K87sCgYBgn8msMk0_5PwQoKhSwUB2Vg6dplMWvKPFi-8/s320/magic+Doug.JPG" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>There were pie eating contests, baby contests, an art and quilt show one of the churches in which I displayed nine quilts. There was an antique show at the curling centre and an antique car show downtown. Magic Doug entertained children on centre stage.</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>There were dog contests for the longest tail, longest ears, pet owner look alike and bobbing for wieners.</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>There were several performers including a </strong></span><a href="http://www.kobblerjay.ca/blog"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>Kobbler Jay</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>, a fabulous juggler who walked around on stilts for most of the day. He was delightful and is especially wonderful with children.</strong></span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205831502028889810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXw91aC0FFMUyzih9obrhGUJpLLadvejYTtYn2Ai_vPKViLkcbKy8pIM9BL7As9RrsU38lxzZsNSVW1Fd9NBWiaDr_afBH1J41EtdZNe8mHWg3u7KFFkxHWA1CNwO884xmMRXxuJ1IrAA/s320/Kobble+Jay.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>I tackled one of my fears this weekend. It was the fear of the Ferris Wheel. I actually when on it which Alex. So I admit it was only a three story wheel but from the top it looked pretty high to me. I promised myself that I would tackle some of my fears for a New Years resolution and I'm proud to say that I'm still at it.</strong></span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205831905755815698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5dSEpnxMr3GODMEJi5aKj62lCMteB4GEs_4q3oO3EACahDws7dSGPC4tCh78nXwR4Hcok12Frjmunbg8dSM3jEna5zI8_F63-fgo17jyFkknn6jMO9s5qMzWKUVM9x6tNJgR_xOmE71w/s320/Ferris+wheel.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="left"><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span style="font-family:georgia;"><br /><strong>F.E.A.R.</strong></span></span></p><p align="left"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;">False</span></strong></p><p align="left"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;">Expectations</span></strong></p><p align="left"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;">Appearing </span></strong></p><p align="left"><strong><span style="font-family:georgia;"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#cc0000;">Real</span><br /></span></strong></p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong></strong></span><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205832451216662306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqJeLG1XAItRVH_QAdOTjuRsqLi85aJab8nHZo5lMmd8yf0eBbp_6wagqQg2MAqJiy0a6xPHhQbEIF7yhvpOP0PEkWi9emnpwT8NW0OhNk-zEunP9J2xnlMRoaUOG7SHnYn8lEwDw5_NE/s320/Is+that+bolt+secure.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>The street was filled with venders. One of which was a <a href="http://www.henna4you.com/">henna artist</a> and Paul, Alex and I all got henna tattos. Mine is a pretty little design on my forearm, Paul's is a celtic knot on the inside of his forearm and Alex got a big spider draped across his hand. These tatoos should last for about 4 weeks if properly cared for. </strong></span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205831751136993026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2VsPLpDYd5QmniLUtqpwfn7hJcEMGRu1k0P44BciCpq42icyPvwGrJRot6wvQqKIIL97z81MjuA3UJpA7CxtJLMJT3sbHiDeEhB57euS1VuzPv_fa_Nz4njjqgtRHvZKweNUPPG41Sds/s320/my+tattoo.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666600;"><strong>Those who fear life are already three parts dead. </strong></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:georgia;color:#666600;"><strong>~Bertrand Russell</strong></span></p><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205831686712483570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVp-szTfRChZ7S4MuMa4PTwUMDch1FQSMsHzXu-t6VygmqCzimAiAPqjE6ZbsF6yRPEVsYItCxRQr6YTKmbdMSCGCgBlvk0s0KtYFTNx6M_4_96aZjqOyPddVsqlCc6zAN1xQnMGf1Lvg/s320/Alex+tatto.jpg" border="0" />Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-18694578874071765862008-05-24T16:17:00.005-04:002008-05-29T12:32:50.752-04:0049 and loving it.<strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#006600;">I was checking through some of my favourite blogs and found this birthday giveaway at </span></strong><a href="http://tparty.typepad.com/the_tcozy/2008/05/the-big-five-o-giveaway.html"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#006600;"><strong>The T-Cozy</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#006600;"><strong>. What better way to celebrate a birthday than to give rather than focusing on receiving</strong></span><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>I love it when I read about someone embracing their age and looking forward to each new decade. I used to play my birthdays down. That was partly because I lost my brother due to illness when he was just twenty-nine. I felt guilty about getting older when he couldn’t. Now that I am in the middle of my life, I embrace my age. Canada and the United States are very concerned with body image. It is actually a sad thing that women judge their value on how they look rather than instead of what’s inside. What a great feeling to be able to leave all that feminine insecurity behind and wrap my arms around life. Let someone else worry about the size of their</strong><span style="font-size:130%;"> @</span><strong>ss. I’m too busy looking forward to notice what’s behind me.</strong> </span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>This is my before picture. I'm letting my grey hair come in. </strong></span></div><br /><div align="left"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#006600;"></span></strong></div><br /><div align="left"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#006600;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5204719695402396978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfonFFZSwhNz4IeQ7FY1WZj83XcNe_cODr0dIgZQtSJsbDGdjGIHUvZXIcWNIJ-Yp9VhMnJnPlGkAH8fWtUH4DcCIRqc5zDhirA1Qezftktt2zqr3NmVAv-uAG4VcN8C5t_KieYVCWhkM/s320/ga+at+piano2.jpg" border="0" /></span></strong></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>The worse that will happen is that I won't like it and I'll go back to colouring it again. If I do go back to colouring I will use Henna dye. It isn't permanent and doesn't have side effects. It coats each hair strand rather than penetrating it. If you stop using it, it will eventually wash out completely </strong></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong>The best thing is that I will love not having to bother with it anymore and spend more time just feeling great than wondering how to part my hair so my roots won't show. If more women would accept their going grey, the more acceptable it would become. Look at how beautiful Helen Mirren was when featured in <a href="http://www.more.com/more-women/celebrities/helen-mirren-not-quite-a-dame/">More</a> magazine or Meryl Streep in <a href="http://www.imdb.com/media/rm4236351744/ch0009660">The Devil Wears Prada</a>. There is beauty in every age and once we realize it, we will be able to face each day putting our best face forward.</strong></span></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#006600;"></span></strong></div><div align="left"><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#006600;">If you decide to go grey, don't let your whole appearance follow. The absence of hair colour requires the presence of colour in other areas to keep you from looking washed out. Check out these tips for looking <a href="http://www.oprah.com/beauty/hair/hair_omag_200710_gray_201.jhtml">grey and gorgeous</a>!</span></strong></div><br /><br /><div align="left"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#990000;"><strong><em>As I was going down the stair,<br /></em></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#990000;"><strong><em>I met a man who wasn't there. </em></strong></span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#990000;"><strong><em>He wasn't there again today. </em></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#990000;"><strong><em></em></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:courier new;color:#990000;"><strong><em>Oh how I wish he'd stay away.</em></strong></span><br /><br /></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><strong></strong></span>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-84072191853632721322008-05-20T12:18:00.001-04:002008-05-29T16:47:35.390-04:00guinea pigs<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><strong>How wonderful to finally have fair weather. The </strong></span><a href="http://www.guinealynx.info/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><strong>guinea pigs</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><strong> are really enjoying it. After being cooped up all winter eating dried hay the fresh air, sweet grass and sunshine are just the thing! I put my piggies in a tent to guard them against birds etc. It also keeps the bugs off of them. </strong></span><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205835887190499122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTJeBrqmPPymkXeBFg7zfuFYPhDPbST3VHcy_AZG8Aua9MKums6RCrAl3hOJD8vObUpFHjw7GBwCzJv5cq0XkRiMumdy4uTOOWSWwBhgTUUOAmonR28JbQuTHzES-o3jJLD6J01C6pMnI/s320/piggy+tent.JPG" border="0" /><br /></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><strong>This is Q-Tip in his spring sweater. He's a skinny pig (hairless) so he needs a sweater to keep warm. Also he has to be protected from sunburn.</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205837008176963394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzImk1WC2AgkqYlm4AobGCyCi5TJn6qoiBAQXZMypwsMb5X53PwgcLj4Ru8zp_lG-WIwDrjlEL9y7_BbbwW2zAG_u3N9OGQULm1UMyioRlAx5M71opixETkiPLw0UnMG26g6klxzkIKC4/s320/q-tip+bl+sweater.jpg" border="0" /><br /></strong></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><strong>Dexter is never fair from Q-Tip. Here he is chillin' out enjoying the day.</strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205837145615916882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7cs7YXQ_JOmJAKl0YtIzBzlcRm6dpBgNJ9qaor3Bcfbv4Q-IlxgwaQEKuEPFGLjL8k-7r1m7gKKd8kjyNKzJtr_aCGpoS8mvs0uhgCHgNwB4itEaT66uPX_iR7Xyjh7yq-zwx_x4V9Ww/s320/Jungle+pig.JPG" border="0" /></strong><span style="color:#ff6666;"> <span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"><strong>If all the beasts were gone, </strong></span></span></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span style="color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"><strong>men would die from a great loneliness of spirit, </strong></span></span></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span style="color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"><strong>for whatever happens to the beasts also happens to the man. </strong></span></span></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span style="color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"><strong>All things are connected. </strong></span></span></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span style="color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;"><strong>Whatever befalls the Earth befalls the sons of the Earth.</strong> </span></span></span></p><p align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#330000;"><span style="color:#ff6666;"><span style="font-family:verdana;font-size:130%;">~Chief Seattle of the Suquamish Tribe</span></span></span></p><p align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;color:#330000;"><strong>Both my piggies are rescues. Q-Tip lived the first year of his life in a cage so small he could barely turn around. Just twice as long as he was. Dexter's cage was even smaller. Now they enjoy 6'x2' cage and are a pair of spoiled boys.</strong></span> <br /></span><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205837205745459042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrCnyhI0-kLTbWA7mzmse-7FlxJQrzU36RckFHX_x0HT4d6PVIXAMI_tszNFpnIU9myVUSJ-4oNPbO290UsVxpGWLb7nhfqzacLgrQX6ICvpU957YA_TsUdaKZZv5gAg2YzjHsJmXBMLM/s320/Q-Tip+and+Dexter+grazing.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br /><strong><span style="color:#ff6666;">Lots of people talk to animals.... </span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ff6666;">Not very many listen, though.... </span></strong></p><p align="center"><strong><span style="color:#ff6666;">That's the problem. </span></strong></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#ff6666;">~Benjamin Hoff, The Tao of Pooh</span></p>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-11333863337352993112008-05-18T12:10:00.003-04:002008-05-18T12:23:21.492-04:00get rid of musty basement smell<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong>Paul and I went to a century home seminar by Chris Cooper of </strong></span><a href="http://www.oldhome.ca/"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong>Edifice Magazine</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong>, last fall and were taught a good trick with </strong></span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Borax"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong>Borax</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong> regarding musty basement smells. First off, open your basement windows to let the air circulate. That's what the windows are for. Now take a 2 kg box of Borax and mix with 2 gallons boiling water. Put in a 2 gallon sprayer and spray the wood and masonry in the basement. Let it dry. Borax has sodium in it and mold and mildew will be killed immediately. Every time your basement gets damp, it will reactivate the borax and kill of any chances of mildew coming back.</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong>Anyone interested in preserving their heritage home or keeping their newer home in good repair should check out one of his seminars. </strong></span>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-29403699223932690132008-05-17T16:01:00.001-04:002008-05-29T16:38:57.988-04:00at the lake<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong>We often spend time down at Lake Ontario. Many people don't realize just how big the <a href="http://www.great-lakes.net/">Great Lakes</a> are. Ontario is not the biggest but it is huge nevertheless.</strong></span><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong>I used to have trouble remembering the names of the lakes when I was a child but my kids learned a trick in school to help them remember. </strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong>Just remember <em>HOMES</em>. Huron, Ontario, Michigan, Erie and Superior.</strong></span></div><br /><div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#333399;"></span></strong></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205893057500176290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibxUxDel2UhoGgMHnd3aK_IItUrt5Nz0BbOwcSthxQp4MBWp3_TXnF_wqh6FEoe7TEyN7bcb4wP64VqhU3rcrtUzlVOXkZyM56Uxa8gKF5L00yj8ZATpJP7_NQfrqfVR114lCIe2u131o/s400/paul+and+alex+at+lake.jpg" border="0" /><br />This is Paul and Alex wandering out on the boat launch. I was standing on the shore taking pictures and getting soaked as the waves broke. I love spending time at the lake. We try to go down there a couple times a week. It's just a few minutes from our house. Whenever I'm upset about something that's where Paul takes me. I can lose hours just watching the water. </strong></span><br /><div></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205892872816582530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMXpxGmp3uhY6RJndol5vAuwcwstiZWuIEfS3lDnEywCYXBQSrMVWIJnK3VBDIosNItNoJMwOa1B4OvH7ifzOUD_zr0dQi8MU4KM_Dc7V2-J8MHSSvev_Inw9dDGUOKdvWZKkGCgTwyZE/s400/boat+launch.JPG" border="0" /></strong></span></div><br /><div><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong>What a cold day it was at the lake. When the water is angry, it shows as two different colours. Further out it is a deep blue or sometime grey but closer to shore where it's more shallow, it shows lighter. I guess it's because of the rocks and sand. </strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205892971600830354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Y29f0dyv92POwISoqc2g0v59onZ79yGYOZCKsY2wmcazz3FokEY0CNGT5jFxKp5EZ4S2NiKU-dn4T4BBn97YAfQBGBBIiyY39sjkHur5i8x5KuabGZoMQjxbp-LfWHOYNq5d3NFy_uU/s400/gull.JPG" border="0" /></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong>The gulls certainly aren't camera shy. In fact, I think they like to be the centre of attention. We didn't bring any snacks for them that day but I think they were glad to be sitting on the rocks staying warm in the sun. </strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205893332378083266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSBH-rKqhdmD25DHj5phyG9UMPm1IZHiSiL7Ea04BuzuPiVz8NrVrJWKbS97ZOAAMfwVdBNfGydepC627iZNPbMPYDWqg82k8OeSS0X79Wh37Ye8-ILpD7SDu11iuEHHfVgtCwYMSh_LU/s400/cool+fungus.JPG" border="0" /></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong>We explored the forest around the shore a bit and found a piece of birch with a fabulous bit of fungus growing on the side. It looks like a little fairy perch. </strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205893246478737330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSnMvUtjf7bYQDGM_WU9TAVFoM6kquQTrTKRpOnuTQqkwTUrnMONQymC_iZ75YAlUVDFICJReCX4SPjtyBrQuBmenqtijw8xANVDGV6-e1aoB-ZSl_X4nA5au7AzlZBgPkjRKC4rniH1Y/s400/just+green.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong></strong></span></div><br /><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#333399;"><strong>During our drive home, we all marveled at how green the fields look. What a difference between the water at the lake and in this stream. I think this will be a future picnic spot. </strong></span></div></div></div>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-7928541821925872042008-05-02T20:58:00.002-04:002008-05-16T20:21:20.763-04:00waxwings are back<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"><strong>The cedar waxwings are back looking for a bite to eat. I love that they show up in a gang. </strong></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198903951913909890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2sMlMdEsXUxvlQk1HvF1EZwke0JjztuzrJg1Yuw3fum3dkkefu6xXuGh58niFFBd7BJIZaRIp7IL1axEwZirJAffXgsOeDYZzelBk8hS2nDyGwagKmwofV5SEogzutllpKh2KvZm9_ro/s400/waxwings.JPG" border="0" /> </strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"><strong>We didn't have them at our other house and they are an exciting addition to my birdwatching. We also have such guests are bluejays, cardinals, juncos, rosebreasted grosbeaks, doves, chickadees, robins and more. We've had a hawk visit the garden a couple of time for dinner but that's not the kind of birdwatching I want to do. Still, hawks must eat and we supply quite a buffet. </strong></span><br /><br /><span style="color:#003300;"><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"><strong></strong></span></span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"><strong></strong></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198905541051809442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVBGvuAeHRmx6j8dkThxucDlbgkH5xGY81bTjuY8HRz9bz_K1rVGYV6sdJBCkt0Zb-qTmb44CZDjb0kp1ob3XxuDd232A3X1O9b1jXNykcIOPV7xjD4VvCvrDJ0H-m22ui191c9ynJHlY/s320/yellow2.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /></strong></span><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"><strong>The crocuses are done now but it was nice to see them after such a long winter. We now have tulips. They came up as the daffodils were ending. Of course the tulips are mostly yellow but there are a couple of pink ones and a few red behind the garage. The red ones were just about to put on a lovely show and a cutworm showed up and pulled the curtain on them. </strong></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198905326303444626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeBeJ2tUth_c1lMMfVKOOIH8loDUYjPiaNQRyn9k_D0QCqfmPg7uGDy6BDKM19e6LL9aE7ASWQtMO_rNWdc_t_gWQRrjdYuwybVjmV8SCS9rxSJLE0qG9Eb3nnvFlNMUVuk4PC6bsxieg/s320/yellow+and+purple.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /></strong></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"><strong>There are a few orangy-red and brown ones in the garden. I've never planted tulips so I am glad they are here already to start this garden off for me. It is such a sad and underworked garden but I have great hopes for it!</strong></span><br /><br /><p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"><strong></strong></span></p><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#003300;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198905803044814514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSxgUdmeSs3fE9V2FO0_G8DlQ1DSsJ35aUIWkunxS1XSToe8FO3mJx_55x2KATFTJC9doZeqk8u5OE6GhUREa0cBFttqeoVLDJaZudZa6LekgyzrvuFyas2BtzB_aBzJod3f6yoc-z6fE/s320/yellow.JPG" border="0" /> </strong></span>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-56704956511453324052008-04-30T09:32:00.001-04:002008-05-10T22:10:56.681-04:00My mother's birthday<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong>Today would have been my mother's seventy-seventh birthday. Needless to say I am missing her today.</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong>I used to wonder who set up the time frame of one year's mourning? It always seemed like a stupid idea to put a time on sorrow. I still get sad thinking of my brother or dad and they've been gone now for 23 and 22 years. Who says on year is appropriate for being sad? But since my mom died in January, I have come to a better understanding of the "one year's mourning" period.<br /><br />Since she died, I have had to celebrate my first birthday without her, my first trip to the Buttermilk cafe without her, my first Valentine's day, St. Patrick's day, Easter, the first day of spring, etc. And today, her first missed birthday.<br /><br />Everytime I pass a florist shop or card aisle I am reminded that this will be the my first Mother's Day without her. I still have to get through my first day of summer without her, my first blooming onion without her, my first Christmas, Halloween, Labour Day, Canada Day, Thanksgiving, Remembrance Day, New Years Eve and worse yet to come, the first anniversary of her passing. She will not be here to share my excitement of my first guests at and Bed and Breakfast I have named for her. She will not see the Shasta Daisies I am planting for her. She won't see my first exhibit at the art gallery. She would have been so proud. </strong></span><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000099;"></span></strong><br /><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000099;">It is just four months since she died and I have missed sharing so much with her. I suppose one year is an appropriate time frame in which to mourn. I'm sure that even after that year there will still be many first's without my mom. </span></strong><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"><strong>Oh how I miss for her. I miss her praise, her unconditional love, the sound of her voice, her unsolicited advice, her friendship, her encouragement and the smell of her hugs. </strong></span>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-85721515704094246322008-04-27T19:40:00.002-04:002008-05-29T12:34:35.086-04:00take care of your photos<strong><span style="color:#993300;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">Our basement got flooded this spring. With all the snow we've had, the bad grading on the house and the old stone foundation, we ended up with a small lake in the basement. It's pretty much dried up now but for a while there was a steady stream of water. Excuse the pun.</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;">One evening just before bed, I went back to the basement to check on something. I can't even remember what that something was because when I got to the basement, a box of photos has spilled over onto the wet floor. They must have just fallen because Paul and I were able to save about seventy percent of them. Some of the </span></span></strong><a href="http://www.imphotorepair.com/waterdamagedphoto.html"><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#993300;"><strong>water damaged photos </strong></span></a><strong><span style="color:#993300;"><span style="font-family:verdana;">were beyond our skills</span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span><br /></span></strong><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#000066;"><strong><span style="color:#993300;">I know the basement is the worst place to keep the photos. I was planning on scanning them and putting them all to disc. Just one of those lessons I guess.</span></strong> </span>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-45031682929868367052008-04-17T18:55:00.000-04:002008-05-10T19:39:31.581-04:00Pink for Spring<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong>I found this sweet little bird's nest at our local florist which is located right inside the <a href="http://www.downeypharmacy.com/">Downey Pharmacy</a> here in Colborne . I go in every few days to talk to Cheryl and see what new piece of greenery she has in stock. I didn't plan to buy anything ornamental but this little nest just sung to me of spring and I knew it would look charming on the sideboard along with some candies and a pair of vintage gloves. </strong></span><div> </div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198887291735768690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTrHETAg8epCMSM-3iGJh7X9addsu4TCPv5H8rVVjY81iUi3fIGFtJ5qW8UiL3VkuKu8jxOe0xcoikb1TYTcnJV6p7R_oLSpj7z841aUyMvSFi6Kh071GH-onMkLkX4U4ixRC-yWNjHc8/s320/candy.jpg" border="0" /></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong></strong></span> </div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong>I buy candy at the </strong></span><a href="http://www.bulkbarnfoods.com/ver_html.htm"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong>Bulk Barn</strong></span></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong> and it lasts for a very long time. My favourite ones are the green mint and Paul likes the pink. I must admit the green go down faster than anything else.</strong></span></div><div> </div><div><strong><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000066;">I did buy a neat little succulent called String of Beans. There are also String of Pearls, Buttons and Bananas. I've always wanted the pearls ( beads) but the beans are close and they were in stock. </span></strong></div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-92175853768114640762008-04-10T18:40:00.001-04:002008-05-10T18:54:45.988-04:00the last of the snow<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong>The snow seems to stay longer at the lake. Paul and I drove down to Wicklow Beach and watched ducks diving for their dinner. With ice and snow still on the shore, it's hard to imagine how these poor little creatures don't freeze their beaks! None-the-less, they seemed to be enjoying themselves and we had fun just watching them surfing the waves.</strong></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198885075532643938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjfr6Kax2D_VTNFdxr07NalUx8yWkd_kp8UaNnvyuOTIq4uhEXJBDBvN_0MnFtECSmKUUqdP9lUjTj6NBHg154sB_VrADt9Y5Sb9w_r2typAjxCi_1YIHpUsd35uCf9qeq3ZhGH63ntH4/s320/waves.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;"><strong>Further up the road there were two big yellow cows having their dinner. One cow was very busy with the salt lick but when I talked to her she took the time to acknowledge me.</strong></span><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198884693280554578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBMzsYz8ZtOPm3Q8SJXa_fn6k5HxbEYuFH9f_lUtCh2F_BSbubanFNJuXmheEzAVAxoyTiXnEYxTLj1WnIxOx2PRthv6_x294zFM7OKqlVvzw5smTPckN9d9g1NF9XOdL0pTSLpfvQYvc/s320/miss+cow.jpg" border="0" />Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-61637961727675822812008-03-29T23:13:00.001-04:002008-05-10T20:20:35.605-04:00leaf melting on ice<span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"><strong>Spring will not be denied. We never got around to raking all the leaves in the garden last fall and piles some up around the roses to protect them. Natured decided to press through anyway and force a daffodil up through the leaves that were left around the rose bushes. </strong></span><br /><span style="color:#006600;"><br /><strong><span style="font-family:verdana;"></span></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198907667060620994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvSY6-J1Y4G-K-bswpwJHJ6zsfUzIEWTE0CMUN6QLUnwDIUJrhuF8xH5UTdN8baFQPPChNPzLpBRfFc7yuqN7LtNzlPXLLs6qak5Bf7c4TDTA6LS8C4fb55C4RDsiYxbt15JV4wJ7Wybs/s400/sprout.JPG" border="0" /><br /></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"><strong></strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"><strong>On the side of the driveway, snow and ice continue to melt. A leaf was on the ice and because of it's dark colour, it melted the ice quicker. </strong></span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198907783024738002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibQu-lUJy-28nJuWSeywu3NDF5PI5ykXBSnwNrf0jGdgIDiIwVcKdrBnSDQwKhMsCSI8mcClUBUb6uofZkhvo33WZq2ighIZe5LV2ylYZVmZzfG0sPgF1efONLMeFJ7A9nMgU6UEbxwTc/s400/leaf+melting+into+ice.jpg" border="0" /><br /></strong></span><div></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"><strong>It's amazing how nature works and how much there is to see if only we will look.</strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198907911873756898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJtI_F6jWSp9xPxxKtLhGJ8axDPmL_MbMvl_eUxi_2zBuM14HODmexZX59mBNKf0J2xfFwjcAMadqiIlWbMYmBB6sNj0n37Ik3cUXK-LmFNea7VZHIF-UwQX1aRHPY56OOPtJn-1DC3oE/s400/leaf+melt.JPG" border="0" /></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"><strong></strong></span></div><div><span style="font-family:verdana;color:#006600;"><strong></strong></span></div>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-40324899459955819512008-03-23T17:21:00.005-04:002008-03-23T17:48:34.388-04:00Beaded Eggs<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong></strong></span><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong>Fair thee well Winter months and welcome Spring! Easter weekend, spring and a full moon, this weekend has it all. I got my beaded eggs out for my window display.</strong></span> </div><div> </div><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181053162974394866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdJIdh0brhSqCtp9uIMfa-A9hPl-6LFur2qbS65TmryAM5IvWMFo9QdNRV1TcHFTRWG8_xA-IenO9Bintr54d_p-sGCprJZQcASm-RXq2mT-H1cgkL9XEFODj8yiF7jGCpg-Hbwx75elM/s320/beaded+eggs.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong>The gold egg has a silver bead band in the middle. This egg was made back when silver was used in the making of beads which is why this egg now appears to have a blackish band around the middle. The silver has tarnished. These three eggs are resting on a bed of dried freesia from a bouquet Paul gave me. I haven't made any of these in some years but I have lots of requests for them. </strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong>They are very easy to make. </strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong>First I blow out an egg and then seal the hole with a bit of tissue and glue. </strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong>In order to start with an even line, I put an elastic band around the egg and use a pencil to draw a starting line.</strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong>After removing the elastic, I use a toothpick to apply white glue and a pin to attach the beads. </strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong>I never have a design in mind, the shape of the beads and egg help to determine that. </strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181053042715310562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1jlIfCk-xH_iXadROauz7ngi5Q6_4FnsJfGKLzUKEy2rS9yzc-Mp_AweU9IwRyTC8T2OTmuznCvP3M0KmO4gt2j-mp-MKCTXGwywyWVwxCDw9cj3hlzH-MgJJYlAdpAGv7teRV9dqkss/s320/egg.JPG" border="0" /></strong></span></p><p><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#663366;"><strong>These are tedious to make but most of mine were done while watching television. Or rather, listening to television. The first egg I ever beaded got broken when I had one of my Irish temper tantrums and threw it at Paul. When it broke, it was like fine china hitting a cement floor. So ended my days of egg tossing. I missed him and lost one of my beautiful eggs. Perhaps it may have been more satisfying if I'd have hit my mark LOL.</strong></span></p><div> </div><div> </div>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-26650078721451747392008-03-16T00:22:00.013-04:002008-03-23T17:40:10.047-04:00Saint Patrick's Day<div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#006600;"><span style="color:#009900;"><strong>My mother was a collector and passed that passion on to me. When she passed away this past January, I inheirited all of her collcetions as I have no living sibling. I have to decide what to keep and what to let go. I will keep her china collections of course. My dad used to buy her </strong><a href="http://www.belleek.ie/"><strong>Belleek</strong></a><strong> and she wanted me to keep that. It's the only thing she asked me not to part with.</strong></span> </span><br /><div><div><br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178192734252709042" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_JA4fj4ro9qE/R9yi20ekNLI/AAAAAAAAAWk/Ic9aE9jYvXw/s320/Bellick.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><div></div><div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong>There are several other pieces but these were her favourites. My dad bought her the harp during their first trip to Barbados about twenty-six years ago. I would love to find out more about the teacups which are Royal Albert. There is a set of six, two yellows, two pinks and two greens. If you are familiar with these, I'd love to hear from you.</strong></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"><strong>May those that love us, love us.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;color:#006600;"></span></strong></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"><strong>And those that don't love us,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"><strong>May God turn their hearts.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"><strong>And if He doesn't turn their hearts,</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"><strong>May He turn their ankles</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"><strong>So we will know them by their limping.</strong></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"><strong></strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;color:#006600;"><strong>~Irish Blessing</strong></span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><strong>My grandmother, Eleanor, came to Canada from </strong><a href="http://ahd.exis.net/monaghan/default.htm"><strong>Monaghan County</strong></a><strong>, Ireland when she was just sixteen years old. She came to live here with her two elder sisters, Sarah and Mariah. Imagine such a trip at such a tender age. She never again saw her mother but continued to send money to her right up until her mother's death. Her father came to Canada to see his daughters and one of his sons. There was always this delightful story of how my mother took a rag and cleaned his shoes and then climbed up on his knee and washed his face. His daughters, in an attempt to impress him with Canada, took him to see </strong><a href="http://www.niagarafallstourism.com/"><strong>Niagara Falls</strong></a><strong>. His comment on the Horseshoe Falls was, "Sure and it would be something it they ran the otherway." </strong></span></div><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"></span></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178200890395604162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp_Na_ZoGoxOQUPnGUJoZMFFf9TMx0eVNGEQiRVbiKiJsgGRis4uZQFSUf_Kzruc-V88xuTC2QiSFOXaU45uaiPHnFlcZQuj2zlHiZ3YVYYEVhir0kxrtUVaOBIB4GuevEOu1b9axxtns/s320/jamesjackson2.jpg" border="0" /></span><strong><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;">My grandmother told us so many stories of Ireland and her family that I almost feel as though I grew up there. My grandmother never lost her Irish accent and when she talked with her sisters one of the things they used to say was 'do yah mind the time . . " or "do yah mind Mister Peeps and the time he . . ." </span><br /></strong><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"></span></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"><strong>My grandmother used to tell us stories of Faulkland Castle where my great, great grandparents Lord and Lady Martin lived. The castle has long since left our family and fallen to ruins. These are pictures of their portraits and they don't really look the part of the Lord and Lady.</strong></span><br /></div><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178204163160683730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOr9EMs8p_-eV7YmhdB4DVwNBBW7QaC4R1ZGb6ACEaOwV7Z70y6QMtz3lEu6UC2h5OOsYJRJFLjY5OkLPIGVOQaptMqE-HSsew6GGGWGfvIQkjOrCGHNHqinwQFiABwUwO_Q6MzyUOz0E/s320/oldgrandparents.JPG" border="0" /></span></div><br /><br /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"><strong>What fine memories I have of my Irish family. Below is one of the piggies from my mother's pig collection. </strong></span></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181054743522359810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHjmxPX4pIU76iGAd6sX2Xt1J5xDIwk9inAeJYxVrmktsKICxMkgVxBs5lFeJdpfCcOasw76_rGeZvppxdum-8m-GR8yaGAr7BGcT1YyBibthuA6YyjZLejelUZrf9lP2eLjB4iV7UCQI/s320/O'Piggie.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="left"><span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#009900;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"></div></div></div></div>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-230123092142452005.post-17814027570264922422008-03-14T14:47:00.002-04:002008-03-16T15:24:06.762-04:00Baxter, my Granddog<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="color:#000066;">This is Baxter, my granddog. Alex got him from the Toronto Humane Society. For a Christening gift Paul and I are paying for his obedience training. His pointer tendencies lead him to believe that my rat, gerbil, chinchillas and guinea pigs should all be hunted. My dog Brady is a border collie X. He can be trusted with all the animals. All he wants to do is herd them. Not BAXTER! </span> </span><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178413319478064418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgi8oP4uVKD6rCemFxN5TsD4BGfGeFz2I7bZjjLGQEggo3sYUxWTb9VGX-is6guKnLEtlneRkQJfmxBlZeGbQwlZdX7jNSCLCACEITkWZ8g0rnvnWuFmRNiTH5OrH-wC4J_8_1wOG020oI/s320/bax.JPG" border="0" /> </div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;">Don't be fooled by this sweet little face.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="color:#000066;"></span></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnrSgUEie0aZoR2lIJs-NvYpi_ypwZ4u1a7t9bI73flHho-S2LFkhFcf5Pl4h4VpmakGmTjW-71kpqLyxbNF1w3GWlJJ0QcPNsDd8mRhU88nqe3lxqAWEm_Y8KBH83wQW2vYxVOjaQ7ec/s1600-h/finger+for+lunch.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178413418262312242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnrSgUEie0aZoR2lIJs-NvYpi_ypwZ4u1a7t9bI73flHho-S2LFkhFcf5Pl4h4VpmakGmTjW-71kpqLyxbNF1w3GWlJJ0QcPNsDd8mRhU88nqe3lxqAWEm_Y8KBH83wQW2vYxVOjaQ7ec/s320/finger+for+lunch.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="color:#000066;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> This is Bax having lunch on Alex's finger</span><br /></span></div><div align="center"><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYdoeepjEUX1wCyfT2cDWDgzNmWSO_nk-FzAGNel8DrUF8zjhnKzjhjoS0dohJYaRNhPD7EEwqQ0-z7wZDMm6ov7wolTjBNll5MgRUNC9IZgRWLIuc0iJrCXZKfakslRIbRZ7wLjJiLY/s1600-h/baxter.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178413220693816594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPYdoeepjEUX1wCyfT2cDWDgzNmWSO_nk-FzAGNel8DrUF8zjhnKzjhjoS0dohJYaRNhPD7EEwqQ0-z7wZDMm6ov7wolTjBNll5MgRUNC9IZgRWLIuc0iJrCXZKfakslRIbRZ7wLjJiLY/s320/baxter.JPG" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000066;">Baxter's nose.</span> </div></div>Ainehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14337559730229764309noreply@blogger.com0