Tea cup Tuesday, working from home.

This tea cup Tuesday I’m working from home somewhat distracted with renovations and workmen coming and going and endless phone calls.But now it’s elevenses. Do you know elevenses? It’s that extremely practical time of day to have some tea, especially when one has been up since 5am.It’s a gray day, rain is forecast and so I’ve reserved my kitchen table as a lovely little snuggly nook for tea.This little English cobalt blue silver overlay tea service is just for me. It’s one of those things that I consider “doing something lovely for myself”.Next to the beautiful, intricate cobalt blueness of this tea service most of my tea cups seemed just so much wishy-washy paleness. Finally I chose this little Shelly cup with twining clematis on it and a funny little duck egg blue handle.I thought I like the clematis, which will snuggle up to and lovingly wrap its soft green tendrils around anything it can touch. How could they not love each other then? Silver majestic forcefulness and playful jaunty tenderness.I’m taking some time reading thru old letters as inspiration to do some work in the studio, and later I’ll be catching up on my correspondence.Oh dear, the old clock shows my elevenses are over and I think that’s the electrician at the door and so I better get back to work.But not before I link up with Terri of Artful Affirmations and drool over her chocolates, and to Martha, to admire her teal colours, (especially the hobnail...to die for), to Sandi at Rose Chintz Cottage to say, "yes please, I'll have a piece of that lovely cake! And to Bernideen to admire her corner cabinet and thinking, "hmm, now I want to cut out and paint a French maid to stand in my kitchen", and leaving you with this little shot of lovely clematis Armandii froth.

Getting out of the city

Suddenly it's spring in Vancouver! Warm and lovely, and time to get out of the city, so Chloe, mom and I headed out of Vancouver for the country. Three generation, one 4wheel drive. We took my big car because I wanted to buy two really big pots. I mean really big pots, like, about four feet tall, so I could plant a couple of trees in them on the back patio.First stop was Cedar Rim nursery in Langley. They had the most exquisite pots and I would have loved them, but $350 each...youch! That’s a ticket to Europe! The quest for the big pots continues. But we had a good mooch around the nursery and we bought $200 in plants instead.We fell in love with the planted treasure boxes, tried all the lotions and potions, dreamed of a patio full of lanterns and decided we had to have an old milk bottle container as a vase.Then we saw this little planted treasure box...um...there's nothing I can say about this one that isn’t going to come across as a double entendre so...moving on. :)Next we drove to Fort Langley, had a lovely lunch and walked around the quaint stores. Look at this dreamy froth of clematis Armandii!In this little antique store C fell in love with a velvet quilt and I fell in love with this artist’s naive paintings. These paintings were so charming and I loved the modern edge to them. The winter scenes were twinkly because the artists added glitter to the white snow. One day I'll have to paint myself a little painting in a naive style.We checked out our favorite aroma therapy store. As soon as we walked in we were offered a cup of tea while we shopped. I swear that’s the best way to keep your customers around. Look at their little tea stand. Isn't it sweet? Plenty of vintage cups, lovely Lavender Chai Yerba Mate tea. So good we bought a small bag.We worked our way down the street to the big antique mall. C was on the lookout for a vintage evening bag small enough to be repurposed as a wallet. (We try not to buy anything new if we can repurpose vintage.) She loved this pearly, silky, little-lace-surprise-inside number.Here is C trying to block my view of a cabinet full of vintage Christmas baubles. Very funny C! She knows I’m addicted to these beautiful little shiny sparklies, but it’s true that the tree will topple over from the weight of my collection very, very soon.We all loved this person’s little booth. Mom’s heart went out to it because it looked so very European. I loved the doll in the perambulator. I think I had one like it when I was a child. C thought it was creep-tastic!So many lovely things to look at. One person’s booth was all creamy and feminine and romantic with beautiful lacy blouses and shawls, another’s had old Bay blankets, (which I also love to pieces), we found this wonderful idea: canning jars full of buttons and sewing, beads, geodes, sort of a pot-luck in a jar, and mom fell in love with the old milk delivery jugs. She remembered those from her childhood.We stayed in the country till almost supper time. I drove us around the farms and fields and little churches, and then I drove us back to the city.This was such a good idea.

A day in the life of...me. A Wordpress weekly photo challenge

Went to sleep last night to the thought of, “Yay, holiday Friday...no workmen...I can sleep in!”Well Morgan and Milo had other ideas at 6am, and by 7am I had an antimatter bed-ferret snuggled up beside me purring his head off. Thanks a lot guys!With the promise of sun and 15 degrees I washed some sheets and hung them out in the sunshine for the day.Then I had to go to Costco...no photos from Costco because I’m sure that if you’ve seen one soul-sucking box store, you’ve seen them all.But then, a lovely walk on the beach......a stop at the garden store and a little gardening. Oh, I bought a new cultivar of blueberry called pink lemonade which has pink blueberries. Not sure how I feel about that but I thought it might be fun for Binky and Bunny.Evening sunset reflecting in the kitchen cabinets is the time for an hour of Ashtanga yoga and then off to read a book.Road trip out to the country tomorrow. :)Photographed with my iPhone for the Wordpress weekly photo challenge - a day in the life.

Oh, I bet you'd do the same thing!

So if you found yourself on the 17th floor overlooking your city and you just happened to have a camera about your person......you so would! :)By the way, I live on the side of Grouse Mountain just behind that tall building with what looks like a spinning top on top of it. (Actually, that spinning top is a lovely revolving restaurant.)

A walk in the old hood

I used to live much higher up the mountains and this beautiful park used to be my every day walk. There is a special lake here which serves as the Vancouver drinking water reservoir, so it’s a very peaceful place since people are not allowed near the water. Today there were a few wild swans on the lake and a large flock flew over head, probably off up north for the breading season.The hummingbirds are back and flashing their ruby throats all over the place and absolutely dazzling jewels in this blue and white postcard setting.The water level flowing down the dam is still moderate; the thaw hasn’t really begun.I walked from the park thru the streets and over the little creeks of my old neighbourhood.One of my old neighbours was trimming his forsythia. I stopped to ask him if I could have some for the vase and he said he was more than happy to be rid of it. I couldn’t understand that because to me forsythia is so cheery and bright, so happy to bloom, a real herald of spring. I came away with a huge bunch.A bit further on my walk someone was trimming his magnolia. How lucky can a girl get?Those soft velvety buds are simply beautiful as they are, let alone when they begin to open and reveal their brilliantly pink and creamy blooms.I chose some vases and spent a few lovely minutes arranging my branches.I thought the magnolia would look lovely in this creamy ironstone vase but in the end I felt loathed to cut down the spectacular stems and so got a cut crystal ruby vase I brought from Prague years ago.Now I can’t stop photographing the magnolias in the evening sun.Ok, one more.

Tea cup Tuesday. Getting ready for Easter.

I’ve made a few quiches and other egg based yummies over these past two weeks and, instead of cracking the eggs, I blew the contents through two small holes, leaving the shell intact.Chloe and I thought we might paint the egg shells and hang them on some branches from the garden cherry and plum trees, which we hope will force bloom just in time for Easter.Any work must certainly involve tea, and, since we were going to be at this for a while, a big cup of tea was in order.The tea cups I chose for us are whimsical Dubout Editions Clouet earthenware cups with cat cartoons by French cartoonist Albert Dubout. I bought them years ago in Paris but now they are available in little boutiques all over the place.The egg shells stayed put on an ironstone oyster plate, a Sbux milk steamer held our paintbrush water and a mouth-blown glass plate was our acrylics and matte medium palette.The trick was to not rinse the paintbrush in the tea...guilty...loads of times.We painted forget-me-nots and anemones and violets, forsythia, pussy willows, blue bells and a bumble bee here and there.Then we hung our eggs on the tree branches......sat back and finished our tea.Happily linking up with Terri of Artful Affirmations to admire her window studio set-up, and to Martha, and sending Martha lots of love and strength. I’m still thinking about you and I care, to Sandi at Rose Chintz Cottage and realising we both own identical lovely little pink vases! And to Bernideen and admiring her new shabby chic look.

How to study

Not everyone has the advantage of a tutor/spellchecker/task monitor.You’ve got to be thankful for all the help you can get while writing those term papers.Joining Mosaic Monday with my three helpful cats.

Sunday whirl...weird and wonderful

Beautiful, beautiful words to play with this week and, once I had an idea, this wrote itself. Except for the pesky word "jar". Couldn't manage it even after 17 tries and every possible meaning, so was forced to let poor jar stand on the sidelines like that last schoolchild no one wants to pick to play the game. :(disguised, forgotten, country, hurry, tree, wound,mind, sand, stirred, jar, across, yesterdayYesterday I followed the pulse of a tree.My mind was open in the forest’s hush of chirping insect and slicing bird calls and creaking tree joints, when a human heartbeat echoed thru the curvature of the trees and my own heart danced a painful rhythm in response.I walked on thru shattered sunlight, the carpeted trail forgotten, and the beat and the light intensified until I found the source of the pulse.A fallen tree. A giant cedar lying with his great arms splayed in a river’s currents, water pounding into the trunk disguised as heartbeat.He was born to this country and crowned by bird nests and weighed down by long-haired club moss and moved by the winds and the rains and uprooted by vine maples inching over his kingdom.I pressed my hand into the stringy bark and the throb reverberated up my arm and my fingers came away tingling at seventy beats per minute, a good resting heart rate.A bit of peeling bark revealed a wound, sap flowing, merging with the river, I leaned in close, the water thump stirred the resting king beneath me and my heart rate slowed down to match his.And as I pressed my body to his I thought I was a great cedar but I’m a vine maple instead. I am not strong. I’m thin, green and malleable, funny leaves, flattened hands reaching to pet whatever passes, whirligig seeds, not a care what I stand on, marching quickly across sand, loam, rock, in a hurry for a new kingdom to conquer.But right now my place is at the feet of the cedar, palms open reaching for the rain as it filters down thru the thick protection. Misty vine maple who clings to his rotten feet. Vine maple cowering under the king’s protection. He lives forever, he rules the forest he is vine maple’s shadow.At night I dream of cedar, tall fish-spine branches and candle-flame seeds. I’m forgetting now, it’s rotting in my mind, the gnarled wilderness of this forest-chest, in soft animal hair curled tight against skin, under wing-twisted clavicles, fingers tracing strings of moss up my spine and out my shoulders folding back and diving toward my waist.

I really, really wanted to write this post but I'm so moved that I've been staring at a blank page for an hour.

I dropped in on Dalyce’s book store today and, being my friend, she handed me a book she saved for me.I didn’t even question her choice for me, she knows what I love, I had a good mooch, found more books, we had a little chat and off I went.This evening I opened the book and it’s then when I realised what a treasure Dalyce gave me.I’m absolutely humbled and speechless.I feel like I don’t deserve to own this book. Like I haven’t done enough in this world to warrant a book like this belonging to me.It is extraordinary and has completely taken my breath away.It’s a 1941 book called 12 Million Black Voices written by Richard Wright with photographs by the most amazing photographers of the day including Walker Evans, Dorothea Lange and Arthur Rothstein.It is a simple book beautifully written in poetry with passion and love. Powerful and startling showing everything from joy and optimism......to horrible poverty and despair, and the most horrible, gruesome, outrages injustices, (which I can't bring myself to replicate).It is the story of the Great Depression and the migration of oppressed people.It is full of voices and faces which will never be forgotten. “Deep down in us,” the voices say, “we are glad that our children feel the world hard enough to yearn to wrestle with it.”Reading thru this book, seeing the faces, understanding...it's life changing.

Future “tense”...is that nervous? Because I am.

The Wordpress weekly photo challenge, future tense, has got me thinking.Each year I open my packets of seeds and hold them in my hand and feel the life energy stored within each perfect little parcel. Then I look at my garden space and know that I won’t have the room for all 50 or so seeds, and so we play the “who will live and who will die” game again. I hate it.I really try to swap/ give/bribe people to take the extra seeds and let them grow and most years I’m pretty successful at it.This year, the second growing season in my garden, I’ve got my act together a little more and have bought some angled iron to stand up the ancient gates with. I figure they will give me twice the growing space for beans and peas than the bush variety. And I love the privacy and the garden room feeling that height in the potager gives. (Have also bought some brown metal spray paint because I can’t live with the cold silver. (Artist...so sue me))So the soil is prepared, the seeds are out of their packages and ready to be planted, future tense looks a little less stressful. Now, who can I find to send half of a package of scarlet runners to?