All Things Nice . . .

 

 

(source) 

We spoke of little foolish trivial things --

Our favorite movie star . . . the price of bread,

The latest book, and how the fashions change,

And oh I longed to speak to her instead

Of vital things that matter so much more

Than curtains, or the polish of a floor.

I longed to ask her (she seemed so alive)

If she had ever seen a rainbow break

In little shattered fragments on the lawn,

Or had she watched a baby robin take

His first small flight . . . or heard an old man teach

A little boy his lessons on a beach.

I wanted to reach down and touch her heart

Beneath the thin veneer that shut me out,

And let our true selves speak . . . to hear her tell

The secret hidden things she dreamed about,

And what she thought behind her lovely eyes,

That looked so very friendly and so wise.

Of course we didn't . . . we just drank our tea

And ate small cakes and laughed with stilted mirth.

And parted strangers . . . and we went away

Along the lonely highways of the earth,

People who might have scaled Life's grandest peak

If we had dared to be ourselves and speak.

~Edna Jacques, At a Tea

Aunt Hattie's Place, 1949

I think we can all be guilty of this much of the time. Holding ourselves aloof when we are in the company of friends or acquaintances. I know I am anyways. First of all, I tend these days to avoid social situations like the above altogether if possible.  You may find it very hard to believe, but I am actually very shy. I hide that part of me well behind my screen and keyboard. And, as I have said before, I am not wanting to open up my secrets that I keep hidden from the people I come into physical contact with.  I keep myself very aloof from my neighbors and the people at church. I am friendly, but not overly so.  Perhaps I am afraid of judgement. No . . .  there is no perhaps about it. I am afraid of judgement and so I keep these secret spaces hidden.

I think we are probably all the same. We all have little pockets of things, thoughts, feelings, dreams and aspirations that we hold back from others. Things that are known only to us and our God. (For He knows all.) Life is perhaps better that way. I cannot imagine a life where everyone walked around with their wounds and deepest darkest feelings open to the air. Vulnerability. It is not something any of us easily embrace. To leave ourselves open to what is often the worst parts of other people.  I can't help thinking sometimes, that in doing so, we are sometimes missing out on treasures untold. But . . . allowing ourselves to be vulnerable is not an easy thing at all. 

 

(source)

There is a part of me that wishes that cats were more like dogs. At heart I am a dog person and I probably always have been. Dogs are at best very needy creatures. They love unconditionally and without guile. Cats are much more independent and whilst they do love you, it is not a needy kind of love. They prefer instead that you be the needy one. Tis true!  Dogs do have Masters and Cats have Slaves. Whilst dogs are quite happy to just be in your company, cats make you work a little bit harder to gain their unconditional acceptance. 

Cats are quite capable of entertaining themselves, which makes them ideal for people who must work away from home or even at home. They are completely content with their own company, so long as you feed them.  

Dogs on the other hand are very social animals and thrive on the company of others. Dogs are much more expressive with their emotions. They are loyal and protective.

A cat is much more subtle in their expressions of love.  Simply allowing you to be in their presence speaks a lot to their affection for you, and if they deign to sit or lay near you, well, you have cracked it. They love you and trust you. 

When I sit and watch television in the evenings my two are never very far from me. Nutmeg is usually next to me on the sofa and Cinnamon will lay on the back of the sofa near behind me.  A few tickles here and there from my fingers will be tolerated, but too much and they will abandon me. At least that is the way it is with my two.

 

 

(source)

There is something so wonderful about a handwritten and much beloved recipe, the writing on them beginning to fade. The paper worn and torn in places and well splattered with use. Depending on the age the paper almost feels like silk.  There is love embedded in its very fabric and a lifetime of memories, especially if it is an old family recipe.

Scraps of paper, the backs of envelopes, small note cards  . . . these are precious gifts. 

They usually come with a story. A background. They have a tale to tell.  And I am in love with their stories.

People usually only share their very best with you, in the hope that their gift will bring as much joy to you as it has to them. 

It is the same with community cookbooks. They are filled with gifts. Everyone's best. That's why I love them so. Every recipe shared comes with a tiny bit of the giver's soul. That is a wonderful thing. 

That is what I don't like about AI generated content. There is no heart and no soul in it. And if there is, it has been scraped from the heart and soul of another. It's just not right.  Something precious has been lost in the process.

I went out to check my mail yesterday and I noticed that someone had left a wood rolling pin with green handles on the little bench by my front door. A note was attached. It was from Sheila. Probably because I had taken over the half of my fish and chips that I hadn't eaten Wednesday night. I wish that I could make her understand that I don't want anything in return when I bring a meal or whatnot to her. I am doing it so that I don't waste anything. She is actually doing me a service in taking it.  Perhaps I should stop giving her meals?  I don't know. I don't want anyone to think they owe me anything because I give something to them.

I brought the rolling pin in and had it sitting on top of the Island waiting for me to wash it.  It wasn't there long before Nutmeg came out from his cave under my bed and he was reaching up to it wanting to bring it closer so that he could give it a smell. I ended up putting it down on the floor so he could give it a good old sniff. I was afraid he would pull it down and hurt himself.  Next time I looked Cinnamon was sitting right next to it.  

Those cats. They don't half make me smile.

 

(source)

I seem to have developed a rash on my upper chest and neck. It is red and a bit itchy. I am assuming it is a bit of a reaction to the jabs I had for flu and covid the other day.  I may have to pop into the Chemist today to see what I can do about it. Some cream?  An antihistamine? It was not there when I went to bed last night, but it is there this morning.  I did have a headache most of yesterday. But this is the first time I have ever had any real reaction to any of these things. I do think that because of my age I got the stronger flu dose this time. I have never had a reaction before.

I am grateful that I live in a country where I can get these things free of charge. The jabs that is, not the hives. lol

(source)

In the country, even more than in the town it is best to be a hug-the-hearth during November. Except for a few rough-coated young stock the cattle and cart-horses have long ago been brought into stall and stable. All wild living things have sought shelter, many are already in hibernating torpor.

The badger with eyelids fast shut, is snugly asleep in his set under the green hill dreaming of succulent pig-nut roots; the hedgehog rolled up in his leafy den, is in his fancy eagerly afoot after slugs and beetles . . . the doormouse, with his tail curled to touch his cold nose sees in his quaint imagination hazel nuts more in number than he, with his nimble forepaws, could have piled up in a lifetime of day-time reality.

~Lleweln Powys, The Twelve Months, 1936

I found a mouse laying dead underneath my car in the garage the other day. I don't know how long it had been there or where it came from. It had not been run over. It was just lying there. Dead. This is the time of year that these creatures try to get in out of the cold. There is no poison in my garage that I know of, unless it got into ant bait. I do keep a big bait station in there. 

I have always loved books, stories, films, etc. that humanize animals.  I love to see them in their little coats and dresses doing all the human things that we do. Tucking their babies in at night, reading stories to them, sweeping their little homes out with a corn broom and dozing in chairs next to the fire, hot drink on the table next to their chair.  Such visions bring me joy even though they are but a fanciful thought.

And with that I best leave you with a thought for the day. 

A thought to carry with you  . . . 

☾ ° ★° * 。  

• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★

*Believe in yourself, learn,
& never stop wanting to build
a better world.• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。
~Mary McLeod Bethune• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。

• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。 

In The English Kitchen today an old fashioned vintage dessert, small batched. Radio Pudding. Very similar to Pudding Chomeur.  Cake with a butterscotch sauce on the bottom. This one is studded with sticky raisins. This is very nice.

I hope you have a beautiful weekend. Whatever you get up to I hope that it brings you peace and joy. Be loved. Don't forget!

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⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿

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And I do too!    

   

Dear Neighbor . . .

 

(source)

 FRIDAY, November 7th, 2025

Estate Lane, Nova Scotia

2 *C/36*F 

Mostly sunny day forecast

Dear Neighbor,

It's very chilly this morning, but oddly enough there is no frost on the ground. I remember waking up on the morning of my first day back in Canada in 2020 and there was a heavy frost on the ground.  I think it was much cooler that year.  My daughter Eileen, stopped by the motel room to wave to me from outside the window on her way to work.  It was a cheerful sight.

Cindy and I had a pleasant drive up the valley yesterday. First, I went and got my jabs at the Shoppers Drug Mart and then we went to Walmart. We both needed kitty litter, and I needed some cat food. It seems I am always buying cat food.  Cinnamon is so very fussy. She seems to turn her nose up at everything but the things that are supposed to be meant as treats. Those she is eager to eat and of course she likes the dry food. Cats . . . I forgot how fussy they can be.  Cindy has five cats in her house and none of them like the same thing. You can imagine how much fun that is!

 

(source)

We then trundled off up the valley. It was raining, not a downpour but a slow and steady rain that kept us company for most of the day.  Most of the leaves have now dropped and there was not a lot of color to look at, but occasionally we caught a glimpse of a tree whose leaves were still hanging on. Regardless it is a pleasant drive. 

We always take the old highway. It meanders through the small towns and village that dot the valley, and local farms . . . their fields now laying empty with nothing but black stubble, waiting. For what I don't know, but it has a purpose, I am sure. Occasionally there was a field dotted with unpicked pumpkins, here and there, having been left behind. 

Rolling hills and orchards, most of the fruit having long since been picked, but occasionally I caught sight of an errant tree, it's fruit laying on the ground beneath its outstretched and empty boughs.  Once upon a time it probably provided fruit for the family's pies and such, but now . . . it just lays there, left for the deer to enjoy. I hope that they do.

It dawned on me. I am a country girl. Through and through. Not for me the city lights and fast life. I prefer the day-to-day life here in these outlying small towns, with their large majestic, older homes and simple ways. 

Ours is a one-horse town. Not much has changed since its incorporation in 1909. Many of the older buildings still stand.  We have one stoplight at the corner of main and commercial street. Probably right about where you see that house standing in this photograph above. 

The Heart of the Valley, that is how its known, seeing as it is the half-way point between the thriving metropolis's of Kentville and Annapolis Royal. It has always been a beautiful little town, bordering on the Annapolis River to the south and the North Mountain to the North. 

Growing up I always thought of it as a Mayberry kind of a town. One where everyone knew everybody and with a great sense of community.  It is not so much that way any longer.  At least I don't think it is. There are still people here who have been here for generations, but there are plenty of new folk as well. 

Life is slow on its streets.  Many people gather off and on all day at the local Tim Horton's which lays right in front of the High School. Our father likes to go there. He greets everyone individually as he goes in and again as he leaves.

There are times during the day that the line up for the drive through reaches out onto the main road, blocking traffic.  That is the most annoying thing I suppose about this town.  A line up of cars waiting for their coffee fix . . . 

There are worse things in the world to cope with 

 than that.

 

(source)

Every warm and dreamy day now is a special treasure, to be savored from dawn to dusk. It is a treat to open up the door and breathe in the freshness of it to the very bottom of my lungs. The lovely gift of a Maritime Autumn.  Like listening to your favorite piece of music, you really don't want the song to end. 

Yesterday I had a lovely woodpecker visit my deck in the late afternoon. There was nothing there for him. I wonder should I be putting up some feeders now the colder weather is upon us, and the chipmunk has gone to ground. 

In the summer months when I put out seed, he emptied it in quick time. Padding his little cheeks until they puffed out in big balls on either side of his face.  It is cute to watch, but the bag of bird seed will only last a short time with such a greedy little Gus always coming back five or six times a day to do his best to empty it.

As I was preparing myself to get into bed last night, my eyes fell upon my old Bride's Book from my first marriage back in 1974.  My oldest son had left it with me the last time he was over to visit. I took a look through it for nostalgia's sake. Inside were papers from a game we had played at my baby shower for him. His other grandmother had saved them.

My heart felt very nostalgic as I happened upon my mother's prediction of the date, time, etc. of his birth. She got it right that it would be a boy and that he would be named Anthony Lloyd.  The date was wrong but she had the weight right on. I loved her little picture that she had drawn of him.   I had never seen my mother as being very artistic, but she was to a degree.  I have seen worse. It warmed my heart to see this. 

Also there was Cindy's prediction which made me smile. Her picture of the babies.  So cute. Thankfully it was not twins.  She got the date right. Spot on. May 29th. 

The time of day was wrong in both cases as he was born mid-afternoon on the 29th of May. My Doctor was the mayor of the town that was hosting the Apple Blossom Festival that weekend and Saturday was the day of the big ball.  He was very much in a rush to get this over with and get out of there and I felt his impatience all the way through the experience. He botched the finishing bits badly, leaving me with some pretty bad scarring in the nether regions. I still deal with the ramifications of that to this day.

But I was a mom, for the first time and I will always be grateful for this lovely son of mine. He has such a tender heart and is the perfect combination of looks from both of his parents.

It was fun to read through these.

Looking a the engagement photo I look quite besotted, I think. This was taken in front of the fireplace in the "Good" living room in my In-Law's farmhouse. The dress was e one I had made for my Senior Prom. In face this might have been the photo from the Senior Prom. 

We were both so young.  And I suppose we loved each other, but it was not the kind of love that lasts and endures. We both wanted very different things out of our lives and they have indeed both taken very different paths.

But we had our beautiful son and that is something I never regret. All I had ever wanted to be from a very young age was a mother and that was the gift.

 

(source)

This has been a very busy week.  Beginning with having my car winterized and the snow tires put on. They also changed my oil. I take as good care as I can of this car. It has to last me until I die, pretty much. It is ten years old now, but in very good nick.  I will need to get two new tires in the Spring, but I will worry about that closer to the time. The service center will order them in for me and get rid of the old ones, so that's okay.

When I got home from that I had a phone call appointment with my family Doctor, just to go over all of the recent blood tests from my hospital visits. Everything looked good he said. So that was alright.  He renewed my prescriptions, which was also good. 

Then I had the cleaners come on Tuesday. They do a brilliant job. I am really pleased with their work. Both the cats disappear as soon as they come in.  Cinnamon does make an appearance eventually and watches them working. Nutmeg never shows up until after they are long gone.  He is the largest of the two and can be a bit of a bully, but he is the biggest chicken.  He embodies the term "Scaredy Cat." That is just what he is. Funny that.

Wednesday, I had to double up on my work to make up for me being on the road yesterday.  I did go out for supper with Dad and Cindy on Wednesday night. We all had the fish and chips special. 

I hadn't been going to get that. I had thought ahead of time I would just have a sandwich, but when Dad told the waitress fish and chips specials all round, I didn't have the heart to disappoint and to be honest, I do rather love fish and chips. 

Two pieces is a bit much though. I could only eat the one and a portion of the chips. I brought the rest home to Sheila who really enjoyed them. I found the fish rather greasy, however. I think they just scooped it out of the fat fryer right onto the chips. I was not a fan of that at all.  Dad took a piece of his off and lay it on his napkin next to his plate and the napkin was almost translucent at the end from all of the grease it had soaked up. 

I had really bad indigestion after, right up until I went to bed. I think it will be a long time before I get fish and chips again. Dad really enjoyed his. He polished off both pieces, but even he said afterwards that he had eaten too much.

None of us had dessert. I only ever rarely do anyways.  I much prefer a homemade dessert.

And of course, you know what I did yesterday.  We got up to the Cambridge Convenience Store. They carry things from Costco. I picked up my pecans and walnuts for my Christmas Baking and some naughty shortbread biscuits.  Then we doubled back to Nichols Farm Market. I picked up a few winter squashes and some tasty looking Bratwurst Sausages (frozen).  We ended up at the Super Store in Kingston where I loaded up with water for the next week and a few other bits and pieces. Why is it when you go into the store for only a couple of things you always come out with more? I never come out with just the few things. 

 

(source)

Our brother is recovering well from his procedure. No insights yet as to what comes next if anything.  We remain very hopeful.  He has been getting out and about the last few days.  Still not doing a lot, but not in bed anyways.  Yesterday he and his wife went to a Tea Activity at her father's care home. It looked to be quite fun with live music and everything.  The day before he had gone out to breakfast with a friend.  He has also been working on correlating all of the photographs taken at the flying club throughout this years flying season and he managed, with help of course, to get his glider put away and stored for the Winter.

And then here we are with it being Friday and the end of the week.  I have lots to do around the house today so I will be busy enough. I like busy days. I like to feel at the end of the day that I have accomplished something. 

And with that I will end this missive and leave you with 

a thought for the day  . . . 

☾ ° ★° * 。  

• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。
° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚
˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛
˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★

*Three things in human 

life are important.

The first is to be kind; 

the second is to be kind;

and the thirds is to be kind.

~Henry James  • ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。*

• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 

My recipe in the kitchen today is . . .  Easy Oven Meatballs From Scratch.  Meatballs that you can bake and then freeze ready to take out and use as and when you feel like having a meatball.  Much better than those ready-frozen ones you can buy and a lot cheaper too.  They just don't photograph very well. Most brown things don't.

I hope you have a lovely Friday. Whatever you get up to I hope that it brings you joy and peace.  Don't forget!

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⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿

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And I do too!    

   

Not my usual post . . .

 

It's hard to believe, but it's been five whole years since I landed back here in Canada to start a new life. Walking away from my life in England was the most difficult challenge I have ever faced in my life.  I arrived here with two suitcases and a deep hope that I was doing the right thing and that I could build a new life for myself that would bring me joy.

It has been a struggle at times. I felt so broken and depleted.  I just kept putting one foot in front of the other hoping that with each day that passed I would be a little bit closer to finding some joy again. I was so blessed to have a loving and supportive family to help me during those dark days, and of course the love and support of all of you. 

I will always be grateful for a sister who helped me emotionally in unimaginable ways, and who is still there for me. My best friend.  I am sure that there must be days when she sees my name pop up on her phone and she thinks to herself, "what now." lol Thank you Cindy for loving me unconditionally and putting up with all of my antics and adventures. Thank you to Dan also for stepping into the breech and doing things for me that I cannot do for myself like weeding my garden and putting my tires into the car each autumn and spring when I need to take them to get them changed.  For making the Holidays like Halloween and Christmas brighter with your skills at decorating and putting some spirit into the seasons. Your Christmas tree has been the highlight of Christmas for me every year. You do such a beautiful job. Thanks to my father and brother for also being there in whatever way that they can.

Thanks also to all of you who have loved and supported me emotionally through the journey. Your daily visits and comments both here and on my food blog have also helped to keep me going. Except for a very few you have never judged and only given me love.

I am grateful for my faith in God. I do not know where I would be without it. It has afforded me strength and hope where none existed.  Given me the power to just keep going.

My two cats, who embroider my days with love and joy as well. They keep me from feeling totally alone in my house.

I am grateful for my little job, cooking and writing up recipes.  That little job helps to keep a roof over my head, and it is a gift from God. I know this.

I never thought I would make it this far. I am grateful for it all. Even the bad stuff because it has helped to shape me into the person that is sitting here typing all of this out for you, and I like that person.

So to each and everyone. I say Thank You from the bottom of my heart. Sincerely.

In the kitchen today, a Sheet Pan Turkey Dinner with all of the trimmings. Sized for two with leftovers for sandwiches and on the table in about an hour from start to finish.

I have a busy day ahead.  I am off to have my two jabs, flu and covid, this morning and then Cindy and I are taking a jaunt up to the Farm Market and the Convenience store and probably a few other places as well.  It's going to rain all day and be cold, but that's okay. We'll get through it!  I love these jaunts out and about that we take.

Whatever you get up today I hope it brings you joy and peace. Be happy and blessed. Don't forget!

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⊰✿░G░O░D⊰✿⊰L░O░V░E░S⊰✿⊰░Y░O░U░⊰✿

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And I do too!