the far shore of childhood

As I child, I spent my school holidays at my grandmothers cottage and practically lived on this beach. The white sand, clear water and crashing waves were the epitome of summer. We swam until our skin turned pruney, ate our weight in canteen french fries and beach-combed tirelessly. At suppertime we trotted, barefoot and towel-wrapped like urchins, back along the road to the cottage. Salty, scratchy bathing suits were hung on the clothesline at the end of each long day and were pulled back on the next morning before the dew had time to dry. I made a trip to the beach last week and saw that my nephews are falling for this place too. They are fascinated by the water and impervious to the cold of the Atlantic. I did see one sign that their generation has its own take on beach games. They play Don't Let the Wave Touch You but in their version you get two lives and when the waves gets ya, you lose one.

In homage to the 40th Anniversary of Woodstock we have erected a small stage in our front garden. I still have to install the speakers...Didn't buy that? You're right it is the progress shot on the front porch project of 2009. I still think the stage thing is a good idea.

cap breton

In July we made a hurried weekend trip to the Mabou area and stayed at a family cottage. We were too pressed for time to hike the famous trails. We had to be satisfied with a short stroll along the beach in the Mabou Coal Mines and a fossick for interesting bits of rock. Always good to take your in-house geologist along for these explorations. They can help clear up the geologic mysteries you find on the beach. And you can count on them to make stuff up if they don't know the answer. Simply attach an -assic or a -zoic on the end of any old word and voila...instant geology.

a shout-out to lord shiva

The latest in lawn ornaments. Just what you need for a little light gardening.

Apparently I have the hindu god Shiva to thank for the creative destruction going on in my garden this week. When we moved into this house over a decade ago, a new porch and steps topped the list of things to replace. And then life happened and disturbed the order of our to-do list. The porch waited patiently, rotting and cracking as the years went along until finally it was its turn for remodeling. All of our home repair projects seem to involve all of the trades and this one is no exception. By the time this is complete we will have involved excavators, concrete guys, carpenters, plumbers, electricians and painters. 

We started the tear-down a few days ago and while it has been very painful to watch my garden get torn to shreds it helps me to think that this is the natural cycle of things. For something new to be created, something old must be destroyed. Or as Sarah Richardson would say: "sure, sure, ripping it out is the easy part. Putting it back together is the hard business"

the almighty "before" shot...you can regret but you can never return.

going...

going...

going...

gone.

How I spent my summer vacation

the sea is so wide and my boat is so small

Yeah, I know. I went AWOL again and the blog police are going to come and charge me with dereliction of duty. July was so hectic that I had little time to document my busyness...boat prep, sailing, a rewarding trip to 29 black street, a jaunt to the Montreal Blues Fest, summer weddings and a quick trip to Cape Breton have consumed the last month and a half. Last week Lauchie traveled back across the lines of longitude and settled into work in Bangkok. Now he needs a few visuals to put him in a Nova Scotia state of mind.

I have spent a good deal of time sailing. Mostly in the fog and drizzle of this sodden summer. We sailed in our first regatta in late June and came in a respectable 4th. We considered it a moral victory. Raw courage overcoming our dry mouthed terror. There was much shrieking on the start line and we had death grips on the tiller but we came through with both crew and boat intact. And there were beers at the end and all smiles around.

rhodies

mist maiden

The dry shade of our woodland garden is not an easy master. I have learned that when a plant is labeled as "tolerates shade" it does not mean it thrives in shade. It means that it copes. Usually it becomes anorexic, clings to life for a couple seasons and turns to compost. I stopped expecting massive, showy blooms and became satisfied with mere survival. The ones that do pull through, grow at a glacial rate. It seemed that we always had room for more plants and I have been plugging in new ones every spring. I was a member of the local horticultural society and bought tissue-culture rhododendrons, tiny plant sprigs, a half-dozen at a time. This year we have finally gained some momentum and are getting a payout on our patience.

percy wiseman

henry's red

vinecrest

rolling in clover

The bright green of spring doesn't last long. Right now the leaves are still perfect; soft and as yet uneaten by the borers and miners of summer. A new carpet of lawn has been rolled out all over the dingle park and the shutters have been drawn on the ice cream stand below the tower. Jigs makes a beeline for it every evening so I have an excuse for finding myself in line for a double-scoop of cookies and cream.

lily bells

The woods are ringing with perfect little bells of all sorts. The snappy white and green combo is so fresh and clean that I practically want to eat it. I loved the dramatic dark and light extremes of lily of the valley shots. It made me think of the lighting effects in italian renaissance paintings, romantically described as chiaroscuro. A reward for remembering to take my camera on my morning dog walk.

the river kwai

Willow's post motivated me to dig up a few photos from a 2008 jaunt to Kanchanaburi, a town a few hours west of Bangkok. The town sits on the bank of the sleepy River Kwai and it is at this site that the famous bridge spans the water. The bridge was rebuilt after the war and the graves of the POW who died during the building of the Death Railway were relocated to large cemeteries in the town.

We set up home base at the charming PLOY guesthouse and hired a songthaew (a small pickup truck) and a driver to take us on a round of sites. As with most places on the back-packer trail, there is a circuit of regional highlights and a competitive mob of drivers/tour operators who ply the well worn track between them. We made stops at the Erawan National Park and The Tiger Temple before heading back to town on the train that still runs along the Death Railway route.

the immaculate POW cemetery

the tiger temple

can I keep him?  natural pools at the Erawan National Park. no Disney effects here.
train station at Wangyen yellow benches lit by golden light

early in the evening, party barges are pulled up river and then left to noisily drift back down river with the current