Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Not Again!


I think I can still smell green . . .


Saturday, April 12, 2014

The Lady What is Not


There she knits by night and day,

A magic web with colours grey.

And moving thro' a mirror clear
That hangs before her all the year,
Shadows of the world appear.


Who is this and what is here?

It's only baby Babar, dear.

 sort of Tennyson's Lady of Shalott

Cleaning House

Last week work began in the garden. 
Snow and ice are not deterrents.
Sun spurs on any effort.

A popular residence last year.

 However, who wants to live in someone else's muck?

 Four nests showed evidence of purple yarn. 
Wonder where that came from?

 Bun was called in . . . 

 to check for forensic evidence.

 She gave the all clear. The house was ready to be raised

. . .  and her feet to be cleaned.



Just Maybe

First day of real warmth (14C) since October 16, 2013.
Time to see what's up in the garden . . . 

Catching the rays are . . . 
 hyacinth
 rhubarb
 daffodils
 not sure
 lilies
and pussy willow.


Bun leads us to where
 ice still lives
 and has wrecked havoc on terra cotta
 but, maybe the pumpkin has released its seeds.
I think Spring has finally arrived at the fairgrounds.



Tuesday, April 1, 2014

April Showers

 Carmen Miranda is ready for Saturday's bridal shower.

 Wool for the next shower gift arrived Monday 
from The Needle Emporium.

 It'll be a baby blanket.
 Grey, you say?

 Certainly, if the pattern is named this.

 Within the hour of arrival a skein was wound . . . 

 and the blanket begun.

Gale is a future focus. It calls for a chunky weight . . .

 but, Gale seems to cry out for Spud & Chloe's worsted Sweater.
Does this look chunky to you?
Maybe . . .


Friday, March 21, 2014

A Doodle's Lot

 When a doodle's not engaged in her employment

 Or maturing her felonious little plans,
Her capacity for innocent enjoyment

 Depends on the position of the hands.

 When the bloody cupboard door is not a-opening,

 When the doggie biscuits don't arrive on time

 She hates to hear her little tum a-gurgling

 And listens for the kitchen clock to chime.

 When a doodle's finished bullying 'er muver

 She's asked to sit a-waiting just for fun.

Ah, take one consideration wif anuver,

The doodle's lot's a very 'appy one.

W.S. Gilbert - ish

Sunday, March 9, 2014

Sunday Brunch

The Old Mill in Toronto
rolling off Bloor Street

by the Humber River

is celebrating its 100th anniversary.

Brunch is available between 10:30 and 2:30 

 in the main dining room with its sunken dance floor.

In the 1940s it was my mother's haunt for dinner dances.

In the 1970s it was the site of my first cancelled wedding.

 and in 2009 it was the location of my mother's wake. 

 With all these 'good' memories we should come more often

to enjoy this charming place

 and put on a few pounds.