It’s been an on and off sort of winter, and speaking for myself, I prefer a steady seasonally appropriate winter rather than a surprise thaw followed by a freeze followed by a thaw. Mud season can wait! Those lumpy with slush to ice sidewalks can wait! It’s a thaw point for me.
Winter
We did get into the local woods fairly recently, a decent snowfall providing some fun snowshoe conditions. We plodded and Scout scampered – I really do think snow is her favourite substance (or second favourite, just behind anything a dog can safely eat. Or unsafely. Fortunately, not too many incidents like that…)
“It’s not edible?! Now you tell me…”
We’ve heard a bit more bird song on our recent outings, and last week a woodpecker flew across the path ahead of us, landed high and crept up and down a tree trunk looking for good things. A red head! Was it a pileated woodpecker? I honestly don’t know, but it was lovely to see.
Quiet
The silver bark, green needles and a light dusting of early morning snow made what could have been a monochrome morning somewhat brighter than that. It was cold, but not so cold we couldn’t stop and sit to enjoy the quiet and a dusty muesli-style bar. Sort of healthy, but maybe go back to carrying chocolate? Just a (sensible) thought…
Who brought snacks?
No amazing glass trees, and no graceful gliding, but the silvers and greens and our steady snowshoe plodding after a fresh fall worked a different sort of wonder for us! The latest thaw is behind us, and I believe both more snow and appropriately steady seasonal temperatures are in the forecast…
Portrait of a plodder
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A short post this week, a mini-celebration of winter, with something of a dog’s eye view on embracing the season! At least, she would if she could get out there…
“Looks great out there. Why am I stuck in here?”
Scout likes to get outside whatever the weather, and, when I wasn’t feeling too well not so long ago, we still had to go out – one of us needed to burn off some energy.
“I’m bored. You look fine. Can we go now? Can we? You’ll feel better – please, please, please…”“I knew that would work! Yeah! Let’s go!”“Whoa… it’s deep!”“Might not be doing that headlong no look thing again…““Free at la— oh…”
Eventually we managed to go a little further afield, and Scout was even happier than her normal state of happy!
“This is more like it!”
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A (medicinal) glass half full? Of course, and half at the very least…“Are you forgetting someone, PlaidCamper?”
That’s the idea when xc skiing, isn’t it? Kick and glide! Yup, we got out for our first xc skiing trip this winter. Our first time on skis for many years, and, just like riding a bike, it’s perfectly possible to fall off.
Not that either of us did, but only because we were sensible enough to stop when we found ourselves tiring. I’m often told I’m tiring…
The ghost of ski trips past…
Muscle memory, or the memory of once having leg muscles went some way towards keeping us on track. We went to the flattest part of the Plains of Abraham to test ourselves. It wasn’t too much of a trial, the morning being bright, the sky shining blue, and the sun bouncing off brilliant white snow. A crisp and sharp winter morning where it feels so good to be alive.
Flat – good choice
On brilliant, I’m happy to share that I invented a new “kick and glide” technique that isn’t in any of the instruction manuals or guides to xc skiing. It involved a complicated and (un)coordinated set of movements likely missing both a kick and a glide, and yet it still somehow propelled me forward. Remarkable!
She knew her stuff! Unlike a certain someone else…
I suspect the gradual lowering of my centre of gravity in recent years, certainly those years since our last ski trip, coupled with a possibly stylish and rakish into-the-wind lean (mostly the first stage of the ever present possibility of a fall – never happened) was what provoked gasps of amazement from our fellow skiers. I think they were gasps, might have been curses, but I couldn’t be too sure, as I didn’t dare break my concentration…
Still flat!
Anyway, having survived this first outing, and managing almost an hour of high speed circuits, we’re looking forward to getting out there again soon. We might even take on a gentle downhill or two, and then see how we do on the uphill parts! Kick and glide, huff and puff, and how about coffee and cake after?
Finished – where to for coffee?!
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A short post this week, because if we take even a ten minute break from snow shovelling, it’s like we never even tried. Who was it complaining about no snow? Hmm…
“I remember this stuff – it’s snow, isn’t it?!”
Before the heavy snow arrived Tuesday overnight and all day Wednesday, we had enjoyed a couple of lighter snowfalls. Scout and I went out to play in the woods, happy to be there in less muddy and more wintry conditions.
Happy place
Mrs. PC has been getting over a cold (she’s much better now) and was happy to have the children out from under her feet for a while. Reminded me of when I was younger, and we were sent out to play. I think the instructions were along the lines of “Look after each other, be back before dark, and don’t get arrested!” Instructions from my mother, not Mrs. PC, although my woolly hat, her scratchy voice, and Scout’s eagerness to get out the door muffled clear directions… Anyway, off we went, looking for trouble.
Looking for trouble
We scrambled up a few snowy slopes, mostly because Scout wanted to visit the troll house, throw a few snowballs, and see if they were hibernating. Trouble is her middle name. I think she also wanted to see if I’d slip over climbing the inclines to the troll house. Trouble, I tell you. When we get home, I’m telling mum…
Stayed on my feet. Mostly.
We didn’t wake the trolls and I didn’t fall over – it was a controlled slide, Scout. We argued over what constitutes a fall, and we argued over if trolls really hibernate. On the second point, my clinching argument was asking Scout if she’d ever seen one in winter? Ha! Case closed.
The troll house – shh, they’re sleeping…
No trolls spotted, no bad falls, playing outside without supervision or needing the long arm of the law – not too bad. If we include this past weekend along with the many previous decades of playtime, speaking for all four brothers, and also for Scout, I think it’s so far so good on the not getting arrested front. That’s possibly, like a Tory setting targets you can’t miss (but still screwing everything up), a low bar? Scout made me say that. I’m telling mum.
Scrambled up, didn’t fall down
Right, on that “what story this week?” note, let’s leave it here, get back outside, and see if we can locate the shovels to restart digging operations!
I thought we’d finished, but the universe said no…
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
…and a novel idea, inspired by one of the greats. Be warned, I’m an all over the place PlaidCamper at the start of this new year – little of what follows makes any sense. Cabin fever?
Earlier this week a sprinkling of overnight snow and a bright blue sky morning created the glass tree:
The glass tree, in the next door garden
Given the absence of significant snow for most of December, we were happy to see the shiny and shimmering tree! It didn’t last, but what a sight to lift the spirits. Now, as I write this, it appears we might be at the start of some proper snowfall for the next day or two.
From the office, looking out over our street – snow (and a happy snowman)
Maybe, just maybe, we’ll be heading out on xc skis next week, or even sooner? I can picture it, two confident characters gliding across pristine snowfields and under glass trees, the very essence of beautiful wintry elegance. Like, like, oh, I don’t know, two romantic yet annoyingly likeable figures in a great Russian novel?
Wintry dusting
Where did that come from?! Due to the lack of snow (have I been mentioning that?) we’ve spent more time than usual indoors. Industrious and happy to be in the kitchen, I’ve kept up with baking and eating mince pies. I have to say, they are generally easy enough to make, but my second batch was woeful. Woeful I tell you sir! I’m so terribly, terribly sorry. If I keep baking so badly, whatever will become of us?! Oh, and we have been watching the BBC adaptation (first broadcast 2016) of War and Peace.
I’ve never read the novel, and have to say, knowing nothing of the story before watching, the drama was a blast. The major real events aside, I had no idea what was going to happen, and enjoyed guessing – quite wrongly most times – what might unfold. There were quite a few coincidences and contrivances as the plot barreled along, and these were sometimes hard to accept. To get to better grips with this, I’m going to have a go at reading the novel, and also see if the characters are a bit less broad and maybe more nuanced compared to the adaptation we saw.
Here’s a character!
These were minor quibbles in the grander scheme of the overall experience. It was certainly quite the production, and must have been an expensive enterprise. The grand palaces and houses, the elaborate sets and astonishing costumes were all marvellous, and the large scale battle scenes were convincing. Far better than the usual “five men running past and then around the back of the camera to the front again through the smoke” effect some lower budgeted productions suffer from. The acting was pretty good (to be fair, there was also some capital A “Acting” from one or two, but I always enjoy that in a costume drama) across the enormous cast of characters. Highly recommended if you’ve got an hour or six to spare this winter. Fabulous entertainment!
Before I finish my comments on War and Peace, I do have to mention one thing. I wasn’t going to, but honestly, it’s been haunting me. It is one of the all time great novels, PlaidCamper, and as such, full of insights into what drives humans to do the things they do – for love, honour, greed, power, revenge and so on – we’d expect you to have questions and be haunted. Well yes, all that stuff and the other things I wrote above about high production values, little expense spared, and good acting etc. But, and this might just be me, was I meant to be quite so involved with Prince Vasily’s wig? (Played by Stephen Rea – Prince Vasily, not the wig) I say wig, but was it a wig? Maybe it was his own hair? Bouffant? Coiffure? Sculpture? Creation? Hair piece? Small cat or spaniel? It was a thing of beauty, and I couldn’t stop staring at it. It captured my attention immediately and almost completely. What story? A mighty battle at Borodino, thousands of casualties and Napoleon’s army is approaching Moscow? Uh huh, sure, whatever, sounds serious, but will Prince Vasily’s wig be safe? Will it volunteer to fight the invaders? Now, bear with me, but had it volunteered, I think Vasily’s wig, acting independently of Vasily, could have ended the war. Both sets of soldiers would have been so distracted they’d have forgotten about the bloody fighting… Honestly, it’s on such small details the course of history can change. In my head, anyway.
“Is he still going on about that wig? I think I’ll stay asleep until he stops…”
I believe Stephen Rea was aware of the hair because he kept waggling and raising his eyebrows and smiling at me in a knowing way – he really shouldn’t break the fourth wall like that. Outplayed by a wig, perhaps Stephen was asking for help or trying to dislodge the competition? Mrs. PlaidCamper wasn’t getting the same wiggy vibe, and, if you watch the series, maybe you won’t either. I said to Mrs. PC it was hair loss (that bit works best if read in a heavy Russian accent) she couldn’t see what I could see…
Canada winter – is like Russian winter, no?
Goodness, that was a long aside, almost like a, like a, oh, I don’t know, an unlikely contrivance in a nineteenth century novel.
Where were we? Oh yes, gliding across the snowy plains. In truth, at least one of us will be absolute-ski exhausted after the first half hour and wondering where the nearest cafe is. Our plan is to tackle the flattest trails on the Plains of Abraham, so finding a cafe nearby won’t be too difficult. A very well earned hot chocolate, and if there’s a pastry, why not? With all this new snow, we’ll be needing extra pastries to maintain a sensible calorie balance. (My thumbs are already on – or is it off? – the (nonexistent) scale, like an unscrupulous merchant in a nineteenth century novel…) Are you tired of this yet? Tired, like you can get reading a long nine- Please, stop it PlaidCamper!
Almost done! I went out with Scout a little earlier, and she was thrilled to be able to dig, even if the snow wasn’t really deep enough:
Digging it“Oh. Nothing there. Somewhat shallow, PlaidCamper! Could you turn the camera away – I’ve dug the hole, might as well pee in it!”
Scout! We are out in society! If you behave like this, whatever will become of us? Consider our audience, madam! And what’s this about shallow? You certainly know how to wound a fellow…
I shall leave it here for this week, ego bruised, feeling fragile but not shattered, like a, like a, oh, I don’t know, a glass tree or an overwrought character in a – I’ll stop, you know how it goes…
Goodness, you’re still here and have a question? What about the novel idea, PlaidCamper – you mentioned it at the start? Oh, that. I’m no nineteenth century novelist (no, no, really, and thank you, you’re so very kind) but I was inspired by old LT to have a go at a short story of my own. It’s about a famous actor, his wig, a down on his luck baker and his incontinent pooch. The title? “Woe & Pees!” Yup – when the BBC drama department comes knocking, I’ll let you know.
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
“Oh come on, PlaidCamper! Wounded? Really?! Stop sulking – I forgive me! Now, have you seen the new snow? Let’s get out there!”This was the new snow yesterday – phew! Let’s get out there!
…and, fortunately, you’ve not been able to hear me complain about it! But I have been, don’t you worry!
We’d planned, overconfidently as it turned out, to be spending the past week or two on snowshoes or skis, enjoying the thrill of a Quebec winter. That hasn’t happened – yet!
Scout earlier this week, enjoying the thrills of a Quebec winter. Look at that snow!
Going for glass half full, I can be excited all over again if and when proper winter returns. I hope that is soon, because as much as I like mince pies and beer, we might be approaching the point where I can’t see my feet or be able to reach down to said skis… I’m becoming a contender for Santa employment next year if things don’t change. Ho ho ho.
More than half full!
So as 2023 meanders to a slightly grey/green and no snow end, I’ll sign off for this year by thanking you for taking the time to read and comment on this blog. It’s always a delight to know that thoughts are being shared and we’re not going slightly mad all alone as the world takes a few strange turns.
Bye bye 2023
Wishing you all the very best for 2024! Who knows, perhaps the flat earthers, election deniers, populists and other assorted liars will come to their senses in the next twelve months? You have to hope… and in the meantime, there are outdoor concerns and pursuits to follow while we still can! Let’s get out there (just have to finish this mince pie…)
Soon?
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
We were planning to spend chunks of the long weekend on snowshoes or xc skis, but the strangely warm weather through last weekend – it rained and washed away most of the snow pack – means waiting for fresh snow and the return of proper winter sometime around year end. Here’s hoping…
No snow? Try one of these instead…
In the meantime, we’re fully engaged with mince pies, winter beers and a good book/good movie or two!
Fully engaged
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a great (long) weekend!
Looking in the old town, there were some bright sparks:
Sparky
I think this old fella might know a thing or two about it:
“Just you listen to me, young fella…”
The chap above seemed to have some competition from the chap below (we’ve been keeping an eye on him, looks the sort that might attempt a chimney-based home invasion, and he’d be tough to spot…)
“Come back, young fella – I can tell you where to find ho-ho-holiday spirit – I’ll drop in later!”
Yikes, I found him a little scary and way over my head. I turned to these friendly looking types, but to be honest, whilst they seemed to be in good spirits, it was all rather wheezy and too smoky to get to what they were saying:
Holy smokes…
Before the big glitter of the big town got too much for me, we retreated into the woods:
“Follow us, OPC, you’ll be fine!” They seemed friendly enough…
I have to say, for me, it was a touch more manageable. A breezy day, so the wind whistled through the treetops, and if I couldn’t make out the words, well I was happy enough with the tenor and tone:
A chilled tune…
In fact, with a whisper of light snow, and the rattle and rustling of dry leaves, I’d say there were plenty of spirits in the woods. Holiday spirits? Who knows, but it was pretty and peaceful:
Small sounds, happy spirits
To finish, we absolutely found some holiday spirit:
Full(ers) of good things
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
A brief piece this week, celebrating recent bright and brilliant weather days – we got out there when we could. Most of the past ten days has seemed somewhat overly (but necessarily) medical, from getting COVID and flu shots (never doing both at the same time again, didn’t work too well for me) to meeting every eye doctor in town (or so it seemed), as we went from one escalating appointment to the next, each doctor wanting a second opinion to the previous second opinion.
Bright and brilliant
Fortunately, once all the information had been gathered, the most senior opinion won the day (or week) and declared all was well, with no new news and to please come back in twelve months. Phew…
All is well
I hadn’t been experiencing any symptoms, but once one doctor took a look, they all wanted to peer in there, and really, can you blame them? If you’ve met me, and gazed into my beautiful grey-blue-green (that’s right, can’t even get agreement on this) eyes, you already understand the attraction. If you haven’t met me and you’ve yet to gaze into my eyes, well, join the line and you’ve so much to look forward to…
I think on that modest note it’s time to start wrapping this up. Most importantly, thank you doctors – always better to be safe than sorry…
Well chilled
We celebrated the eventual no news is good news with some still and some sparkling, and goodness, it was very well chilled. Minus 10 was the daytime high midweek – cool! To my lovely eyes and clear sighted thinking (huh?) these are the very best sort of winter days, with fresh snow, blue skies, and barely a hint of wind. It was wonderful to be outside this week, on the Plains of Abraham and in our local woods in near perfect conditions – some truly splendid sights for sore eyes!
Splendid
Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
We’ve just returned from a flying visit to SW England (with a bit of NW England thrown in at the end) and what a trip it was! Being happily tired this week, here’s a quick report and a tangent or two. Perhaps I’ll include a few extra bits and pieces in future posts as and when my brain untangles the wonderful whirlwind of highlights and events.
Falmouth, Cornwall, UK
After landing in London we travelled down to Cornwall to celebrate my mother’s birthday – one of the landmark ones. “A landmark birthday? How old?” I hear you ask? Or did you? (I’ve not lived in Britain for almost two decades, and even when I did could never be bothered to understand the stifling intricacies and eccentricities of how one “should” behave. I’m not too sure, in the post Jane Austen era, if it’s yet entirely acceptable to reveal the age of a lady, particularly the age of a lady of a certain age. I’ll simply say it is a number between 79 and 81 and leave it at that…)
A certain age
By the way, some of the above will certainly influence the title of my new, and, dare I say, difficult second novel. “Portrait of a Particular Lady of a Certain Age and Certain Sensibilities in a Particular Age, An Age of Intricacy and Eccentricity”.
Catchy, hey? A comedy of manners with no funny bits. My hope is for it to be published soon after my first (also difficult) novel is completed. This will be a more modern tale, based on almost real events, and is definitely not a comedy. It attempts to capture Britain today. The title? “Black Coffee Please. Black Coffee? Of Course Sir. Milk and Sugar With That?”
Eventually I’ll write a sequel to Black Coffee Please called “Please-Thanks, Thanking You, Please-Thanks, Yes Thank You, Yes Please-Thanks and Thank You. Milk and Sugar? No thanks!” Bestsellers all, if only they existed. Order and pay for a black coffee in England and count the please-thanks. Honestly, you could write a saga poem…
Dear old Falmouth
Where was I? Why, in dear old Blighty! Mother had a splendid time, and it was great to catch up with family and friends, enjoy a meal or two and a drink or three in comfortable surroundings. It might have been the drink or three that had us heading outdoors every now and then to take in the bracing sea air and help a head that needed clearing.
The “brightening up” title this week is from what some British people might say as they decide to go for a walk. This makes sense if you know that often in Britain it’s just stopped raining, about to start raining or is actually raining.
Brightening up?
I exaggerate, but not by much. “I think it’s brightening up so shall we head out?” “Nah; it’s raining. Another pint?”
A Porthleven Pale you say? Oh go on then!
Clearly my brain is travel-befuddled, so let’s leave it here for this week! Please-Thanks for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
OldPlaidCamper 