August already?! The cat and dog days of summer…

Slow down, summer, you move too fast – but it’s been mostly colourful and groovy, at least when it hasn’t been raining!

July has been a relatively wet one for Calgary, one of the five wettest since counting the previous four wettest or something. Definitely damp, I’ll say that.

The rain has been good for this garden

We have enjoyed a couple of mighty thunderstorms in between the drier days, that’s for sure. Scout doesn’t much like the thunder, tough as she looks. On calmer days she’s been catching up on old p-mail haunts and meeting old friends.

Cat and dog days – two old friends meeting up (photo: Mrs. PC)
“Yeah I’m tough, a top dog! And, erm, you won’t mention the thunder thing, will you?” No, Scout, not one word… (photo: Mrs. PC)

I’ve been slowly (oh so slowly) tottering about our immediate neighbourhood, getting reacquainted with familiar streets and some new scenes. Life is good in Calgary, and often colourful, but I did not know about the beach!

Just beachy! Vibrant sunny yellow! With bonus childhood summer holiday weather!

Here’s some bubbly colour I’ll be enjoying this evening – a first new-to-me Calgary beer since returning home, the beer style a predictably unsurprising choice, and the can design recalling those lovely ski jackets from the late ‘80s. If summer is racing by, it can only mean winter is fast approaching! I don’t need a new ski jacket, but if I did, these colours would look great on me. And grate on everyone else nearby. Sold!

Just my style! Oh, have I been looking forward to this!

I’ll zoom off now, to get ready for a top down long weekend – we’ve never spent August in Calgary before, so we’re excited about what it might bring.

Will it be a top down weekend? Go on, risk it! (It wouldn’t be my first choice colour, but if I had to have a vibrant sunny yellow car…)

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Another cat – I don’t think this one likes rain?

Prairie sky highs

We’re absolutely loving being out west, traveling under (mostly) big blue skies. We spent a week in Irricana, AB, a tiny town northeast of Calgary, and a sparkling prairie gem. I’ll write more about Irricana another time.

Detail from Irricana mural

Very spotty internet and an unwillingness to hammer my phone plan have combined to keep this very brief. So here are a few photographs that might give you a prairie high – and it’s legal and chemical-free (assuming ranchers and farmers are doing the right thing…)

Good morning to you!

Thanks for reading and I hope you have a wonderful weekend! And Happy July 4th to our southern neighbours!

Rockyview County?! (Not in this photo, but on a clear day, you can see the Rockies in the very far distance)
“Can we go to the mountains, cool off?!” Soon, Scout, soon!
This will get you to the mountains – eventually – no rush!

By the river

Thunder? Heavy rain showers? Heat? Humidity? One or two bugs? Check, check, check, check and check!

But… almost constant birdsong, a musical river, freshly unfurled spring greenery, a distant farm dog barking, spells of warm sunshine and a remote campsite in the trees above a river? Yup! On balance, let’s just say “when can we go again?”

Hanging out

We had a splendid few days down by (or just above) the Etchemin. Two decent sized bug bites on my ankle (how? I was wearing boots!) had me temporarily renaming it the Itchyman River, but I got over it, and barely mentioned it at all out loud. I didn’t provide any insects a free lunch once I’d applied the bug repellent. Use it, OPC. Happens every start of camping season – when will you ever learn…?

Itchyman – are those clouds bubbling up? Maybe…

The trailer and bug screen performed as hoped for, the wood-store was well stocked and dry – one match got our fire lit every time, maintaining a pretty good run (he says, modestly) – and is there a better outdoor aroma than woodsmoke and coffee? Perhaps my hiking boots left outside and under the trailer? With that aroma, why do the bugs even approach my ankles?

A splendid site

We saw and heard geese, and I startled a pair of ducks as I leant over to snap a shot upriver, at which point a kingfisher scolded me, Scout shook her head, and Mrs. PC seemed happy enough I didn’t fall in.

Several mornings a hummingbird buzzed me as I was making coffee, darting to the side I wasn’t looking as I tried to spot her. I caught a blur of small brown bird as she buzzed into the trees, perhaps disappointed we don’t take nectar with our coffee.

Set up

The Etchemin flows through a lovely little valley of low wooded hills and patches of cleared farmland. Not much more than an hour south of Quebec City, it is a delightful spot to find a change of pace. Breathe in, breathe out, stretch, relax, repeat, and it’ll soon be beer o’ clock.

It’s beer o’clock already? Well alrighty…

A very welcome break from the noise and nonsense that can be hard to avoid in the wider world. Spring this year hasn’t been all that it could have been, but a few more trips like this as we edge towards summer and maybe all will be well, with equilibrium maintained…

Fresh

More about this trip next week – the river, the rain (yup!), the microbrewery and hiking trails nearby.

New

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Small moments…

… of joy. An unexpected gift (thank you, Mrs. PC!) arrived in the post the other day, “A Thousand Feasts” by Nigel Slater. As the cover blurb describes it, this is a memoir of sorts, and, if the first few chapters are any indication, an utter delight.

I really enjoy reading Slater even if he can (sometimes) come across as slightly fussy. I prefer to think he is simply being particular. I would say that, as I’m certainly particular about particular issues. But never fussy, oh no…

Can we all agree that strong, black coffee should be just that, and if a warmed croissant isn’t served with an offering of apricot jam on the side (ok, or strawberry at a pinch) then it probably isn’t (another) sign of end times? No need to fuss. Although, if we are going to hell in a hand basket at ever increasing speeds, surely apricot jam isn’t too much to ask? Anyway, I’m not fussy, oh no…

Small cups for a small moment, and just right! Not that I’m fussy…

Back to small moments of joy. I often recall a favourite breakfast we shared with friends on the road many years ago. We’d taken the overnight boat to France, and (some of us, no names) had probably explored the outer limits of how many pints a person should consume in a ferry bar on a choppy cross-channel trip.

Designated drivers aside, we were feeling a little worse for wear as we rolled up to a small railway station cafe somewhere in Picardy. It was just as you might imagine – wicker cafe chairs, red check cloth covered tables, and a dapper waiter. The waiter was poised in every sense, happy to take our breakfast order, and never mind our mangled French.

Rural QC, not rural France, but just as one might hope?

Petit déjeuner? All the essentials – strong dark roast coffee, chewy country bread with a firm crust, and warm flaky croissants. Oh those croissants! I get warm and flaky just thinking about them. (And yup, for the children, they were served with apricot or strawberry jam on the side!) How I enjoyed that restorative spring sunshine breakfast – nothing fancy, and a perfect meal!

Warm and flaky, coffee and pastry

Right, enough with the reminiscing, I’ve got to go make a cup of strong coffee and get back to reading “A Thousand Feasts” – both are recommended! I’ll finish by saying this is a splendid book if you enjoy wonderfully descriptive writing on people, places and cuisine. It’s often amusing, very observant and it celebrates the joy found, home or away, in small moments. For me, that’s most welcome in these broadly troubling times!

“That’s right, Scout! Strong and dark!”

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Prairie in miniature

As winter retreats and spring gains something of a foothold, Scout and I have been searching for that first blade of green grass in the backyard, a sign of warmer and sunnier days ahead. We know those days are coming, but they are elusive, like that first green blade…

Look closely and you’ll find… brown grass!

The thaw and recent rains all point to things greening up soon enough. With glass half full, looking out at our miniature prairie (as well as trawling through photos the past couple of weeks to search out some prairie car treasures mentioned last week) reminded me that these dun colours have a certain attraction:

“You bet they do – look at me! – in the right light, dun is golden!”

A friend of ours back in Alberta (originally from Australia) used to describe the early spring prairie colour as “that f#*king brown grass” – I think she didn’t love it? – but we always enjoyed her forthright commentary, and, when rolling through Alberta and Saskatchewan we’ll call out to the grasslands (windows up) “why, here’s some more f*#king brown grass!” always meaning it affectionately.

Love it, love, love it!

Back in not always so sunny Quebec, we have had one or two hours of spring sunshine, occasion enough to dust off a chair brought up from the basement and spend a moment or two basking.

A vision in beige and brown

Scout wasn’t complaining, although as I write this on Wednesday morning she isn’t too impressed with the sleety rain falling right now…

Tuesday was pretty good…

Rest assured, if we spot a blade of green grass in the backyard we’ll let you know – now isn’t that something for us all to look forward to?!

I like it, even if there isn’t a patch of green to be seen!

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

“Prairie miniature in gold – gold, I tell ya!”

“It’s Spring?! Hmm…”

Scout here. He’s not looking, so I’ll type this real quick. Yeah, of course I know his username and password (*OldGitindenial25 and Scoutisthebest if you’re wondering, but don’t share these top secret details on Signal or anything, ok?) Now, let’s get this done before he’s back from the fridge.

I won’t say we’re in deep midwinter ‘cos I can read a calendar as well as the next dog, but don’t tell me it’s spring:

Yeah, right

I’ve been pacing the deck, listening to the birds, searching for a dry patch to warm my bones – and also for a gap in the fence to make my escape. No luck there. Spring you say? That’s for the birds…

Spring? Hmm…

So I’m indoors more often than not, stuck with the old fella, and who wants that? He might not be ranting on here, but trust me, he’s ranting. Wake me up when warmer days get here.

Do not disturb

When it isn’t snowing it seems to be raining – yeah, ok, slightly warmer, but who thinks a walk in freezing rain is fun? Do I look like I had fun?

Fun?

That’s enough from me. Maybe I’ll post again, some other time when he’s distracted by the fridge? Perhaps after we’ve had a few sunny days out and about? On those future sunny day plans, I should say yeah, he can whinge too much, and don’t we all know he’s an old git in denial about his real age, but on the plus side he did get me that new dog bunkhouse on wheels:

I usually let them bunk down with me

Scout signing off. Shh. Tell no one. I was never here, right?

Nope, not doing anything, just waiting for you, old fella. Hehehe…

Pondering

Pondering ponds. I’ve been dipping a toe or two in Walden Pond the past couple of weeks, if only on the page, and mostly as respite from the spite and stupidity on display in certain quarters. Away from ponds for a moment (I won’t rant, honest), but does stupidity and incompetence even begin to cover it? Unbelievably useless at almost every level… No, no rant, but as I’m here, how can this level of incoherence and destruction also be so predictable and boring? The “very best people” appear to be so very dimwitted and dull. Dear oh dear. Anyway, ponds.

Thank goodness

I like how Thoreau is so thorough in his pond descriptions, be they of the ice structure, surface water, volume, depth (ha!), water creatures, or the variety of reflective qualities he found in the many ponds he was acquainted with. I’ve sat staring out over the page and at our current “springter” (thanks, PW), with my thoughts casting back to lakes we’ve visited, and recalling specifically our trip to Lake Témiscaming last summer.

Témiscaming

Goodness, how that vast body of water entertained us. When we weren’t paddling or hiking, we must have spent hours sitting by the water, on rainy days and dry days. To borrow/paraphrase from Thoreau, what a delight to be enthralled by ripples and furrows caused by water nymphs or fish, and isn’t it something to marvel at how, on a calm day, the see through mirror surface reveals the heavens above and below?

Mirror pond

Yup, hours spent watching the water-skimming insects and ducks make their way, sometimes disturbed by the occasional canoe near the shore, or by one or two motor launches farther out. Tranquil scenes, enjoyed at the time and now many months later, and well suited to encourage calm – I’m happy for that in these strange times…

Happy dreamy days

As springter gives way to spring proper, we’re planning to head out and enjoy some more quiet pondering time by the water. Without wishing days away, now the snow pack is beginning to disappear, perhaps there’s a little countdown to that first camping trip?!

Anyway, stay sane everyone, and let’s plan for the best while enduring some of the worst. We can get by, by dreaming of and enjoying outdoor life. Life in the woods! Or mountains! Or coastlines, parks, gardens and the like! Thank goodness for what remains of our wild and natural spaces – enjoy and protect them!

A place to ponder

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Vernal

If we’re looking ahead with a sense of optimism, then in terms of light and dark we’ve tipped towards the former having passed the vernal equinox in the northern hemisphere. Spring has arrived!

Mmm, spring

Well, sort of… Scout and I enjoyed a lazy hour with that all important second cup of coffee on a sunny deck yesterday morning. Birds were singing, we could hear the tapping of a busy woodpecker in the nearby woods, a fly or two buzzed past, and there was the steady drip, trickle and gurgle of snowmelt from roof tops down drainpipes and along pathways. So, it is spring then – why only sort of, OPC?

Could that woodpecker keep it down? Some of us are drowsy…

The deck may be clear (for now) but the grassy parts of our back yard are yet to reveal themselves, and the medium range forecast suggests another bout or three of snow. Still, until those last blasts of northern winter arrive, we’ll take a sunny almost spring morning each time we’re treated to one! Vernal if not yet verdant, with our glass, oops, too early, I mean coffee cup half full and all that. Onwards!

Oh spring, you tease us with this glimpse of grass (all three blades!)

Let’s keep this short but happy enough, like a first false spring before the real thing. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

This and that (ce n’est pas la fin du monde…)

Let’s hope so! ACI mentioned that I hadn’t been on much of a rant recently. She’s right, and I don’t know about you, but I really do (I mean, who doesn’t?) enjoy the occasional state-of-the-world-today rant. The thing is, given the current global situation, if I started, I might never stop and just repeat myself on a boring doom loop. You know, like delivering an interminably tedious monologue to Congress…

So instead, let’s keep it light with a bit of this and a bit of that as we head towards spring. Those clocks spring forward this weekend, and that’s a pleasant switch, from dark days to somewhat lighter, isn’t it?

From dark to light (colour if not ABV)

I was chatting with my brother on the phone the other day, covering this and that, and he was sceptical about the amount of snow I was shovelling, so I sent him this from Sunday morning:

Next door mountain – you can see where an attempt on the summit failed

I didn’t mention the use of snow moving machinery – if he thinks it was all my own work, well I don’t want to correct him… Maybe we’ll try for the summit again another day, using oxygen tanks and a snow dog to haul us up?

“That mountain? Forget it! In other news, did I just hear a can of hoppy IPA popping open?”

That Scout – what is she like? We’re easily distracted around here. Where were we? Snow? Springing forward? We’ve kept most of the snow off the back deck, often wondering if it was going to be me or the deck collapsing first. Scout says me. She is hopeful she’ll be sunning herself outside very soon, what with the clock change. I’ve just seen the two week forecast, and I haven’t the heart to tell her…

“Let me know how your mountain trip turns out when you get back. I’ll be out here waiting…”

So, no rant, not from me, and instead, plenty of other stuff to be getting on with or looking forward to! In fact, let’s finish on a very positive, even hoppy, note:

Hoppier news? Glass half full? I sure hope so…

Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Small changes

After our desert wanderings last week, it’s back to our more usual everyday northern style for this one. No lemons and lots of snow. This means that we were able to get into the woods and plod along – gracefully, of course – on our snowshoes through the deep snow. Splendid!

Splendid

With daylight hours lengthening, and occasional almost warmth when the sun reveals itself, we’re seeing some of the small changes that add up to the approaching new season. Realistically, it is distant yet, but we sort of fooled ourselves that spring is (almost) in the air! Yes, the snow was deep, and yes, we were on snowshoes, but we could see change coming in the hints of new buds, birdsong above, and in the slight thaw after a period of deep freeze.

Not spring – but brighter!

Yes, it all points to the same eventual outcome even if it sometimes seems like it’ll never arrive. Our northern winter will end, in snowmelt, and we’ll begin to enjoy the pleasant anticipation (no matter how much I love a proper winter) of bright green days ahead. No, not yet, not yet, and not until we’ve finished playing in the snow, but spring is coming!

The right direction

Until it does, we’ll continue on skis and snowshoes, and I’ll complain about (but secretly enjoy) shovelling snow, so we can reward ourselves with an almost well earned dark beer or two at the end of the day – they go so well with the season! (Don’t worry, pale ales, I’ll get back to you soon enough. Another small change…)

A cheery beery reward

I think that is a cheery enough note to end on this week. Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

“Spring is just around the next bend? Nope! But maybe the one after?”