Thursday, or Thereabouts - July 13, 2023

My daughter sent me a photo the other day that has kept me tickled with smiles, chuckles, and a flood of summer memories. The picture is of my granddaughter buckled into her car seat and blissfully cradling a variety pack of cereals. The caption read, "Picked up a Hoeller camping tradition!"

Ah yes, the simple joys that package brought to camping with our kids back in the day. All of the cereals off limits at any other time along with one or two duds - bran flakes really?? in a "Fun" pack?? It was a required purchase for every camping trip.

August 1997

But there was nothing new about this tradition. It began with my mother. Though we never camped - my mother would never have tolerated that - we did travel most summers to her family's beach cottage at Breezy Point, NY. 

Mom and her girls - 1960 Breezy Point

Mom always bought her girls one of those tantalizing variety packs of cereals. As I recall each box had instructions on how to open it, add milk, then eat it right out of the box. Well, the bowl in a box "feature" never really worked that well, but eating the otherwise forbidden sugary nuggets right out of the box was a perfect snack. 

My younger sister and I on the beach, 1961

Better yet was those morsels floating in a cereal bowl surrounded by a sea of another food we only had at the beach - whole milk (3.2%)! The 2% part skim milk we had at home was not available in the US at the time and skim milk was simply out of the question according to Mom (Thanks Mom!). The full fat milk felt like cream in my mouth and the way it clung to those corn pops, frosted flakes, and fruit loops was divine!

Of course the variety pack could also spark some screaming fights first thing in the morning over who got what, but I don't actually remember any of those. I only remember the special thrill that wriggled through me when I saw that mouthwatering assortment of cereals go into Mom's grocery cart, the same thrill I see in the photo of my granddaughter. 

That's Tradition!

©2023 April Hoeller

Monday Meander - July 10, 2023

No doubt about it - summer is here! The typical entourage of mosquitoes (lots of those this year!), June beetles, fire flies (not so many yet), bumble bees, and butterflies have buzzed and fluttered onto the scene.

Though rain remains a sometime thing, the fire risk has retreated to low here as drought conditions have eased. The air quality has returned to normal fluctuations as forest fires come under control - at least for now. This year's crop of fresh local vegies and soft fruits are filling up store shelves and brimming bins at farmer's markets. In short, all is well or at least normal.

I'm not a heat lover by any stretch and listening to the dire heat warnings forecast last week, I'd have not dared to ventured outside. But I stuck my nose out the door, followed by my feet and stepped into a lovely warmth just perfect for sittin' - ideally by a lake - enjoying the gentle breezes. I don't have a lake outside my door, but I do have a couple of Muskoka chairs perched in afternoon shade.

The perfect place to sit, sipping an iced coffee, just listening, watching, and pondering. My problem solving skills blossom to stellar levels from my chair in the shade. I'll spare you the insightful revelations and remarkable solutions to complex global issues that came to me. They're almost as good as the perfectly argued remarks I come up with in the shower. Brilliant stuff! Clearly a legend in my own mind, or shower, or Muskoka chair.

Summer breeze makes me feel fine
Blowin' through the jasmine in my mind
Summer breeze makes me feel fine
Blowin' though the jasmine in my mind

Summer Breeze - Seals & Croft 1972

Have a great week all. 

©2023 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - June 29, 2023

The first week of summer 2023 is in the rearview mirror. Here's what she brought:

We went from near drought to monsoon, with 97mm (3.8 inches) dumped in torrential downpours interspersed with sunshine. Then the rain stopped and the wind shifted, bringing in the wildfire smoke from the north, and this time it really stank!  At one point yesterday afternoon the AQI in my neck of the woods reached 223 (very unhealthy), while at the same time the city of Toronto could boast the highest AQI in the world at just over 300 (hazardous). Blech!

The view outside my front door, just before the smoke got really bad.

Meanwhile, the strawberries came in right on time and they are luscious.

I don't pick the berries myself anymore - strawberries are just too low to the ground for my knees and back. So I bought two flats (12 litres/quarts) of berries for $72 and processed them into 13 x 500ml jars and 5 x 250ml jars of luscious jam. 

Batch one of 4

Of all the berries, strawberries demand the most prep work and truth be told it's a labour of love for me. I don't really like strawberry jam. I love the fresh berries but nothing made from them. No jam, no yogurt, no ice cream, not even strawberry gin (well maybe a bit of that...). But those first berries of summer are an all time favourite of the rest of the family. Just open the jar and give them a spoon! 

My favourites, raspberries, blackcurrants, and wild blueberries, are coming!

So is Canada Day.

I am humbly grateful to have my home on this piece of land in Canada. 

I am keenly aware of the debt I owe to the native keepers of this land.

I acknowledge the Anishinabewaki ᐊᓂᔑᓈᐯᐗᑭ, Huron-Wendat, and Haudenosaunee.

I also acknowledge the Chippewas of Georgina Island First Nation as my close neighbour.

I recognize the contributions that have been made by the Métis, Inuit, and other Indigenous Peoples in shaping and strengthening our communities.

I thank all the generations of people who have taken care of this land for thousands of years.

Miigwech.

I'm thrilled and so very proud to be a part of the colourful mosaic that is my home on native land. We're not perfect, not by a long shot; we're not without problems; we've got critical issues and controversies that need tending, but not right now. Let the problems and politics, failures and controversies take a back seat this coming weekend.

On July 1, 1960, John Diefenbaker, Canada's 13th Prime Minister, introduced the Canadian Bill of Rights in Parliament with these words:

"I am a Canadian!

Free to speak without fear,

Free to worship in my own way,

Free to stand for what I think right,

Free to oppose what I believe wrong,

Free to choose those who shall govern my country.

This heritage of freedom I pledge to uphold for myself and mankind."

Amen to that!

Tomorrow is the last day of school. Summer is here. It will be what it will be. Stay safe out there. 

©2023 April Hoeller

Monday Meander - June 19, 2023

I'm meandering through the fields of family memories today, specifically memories of my grandfather. He was born in Lincoln, England on this day in 1885.

I adored him and now realize how so very privileged I was to have in my life until I was 29. So many memories of  Gramps have been flooding in today that writing this blogpost has taken hours to finish.  I  want to savour each rich moment. 

I stop to recall:

• the feel his hand holding mine as we sat in church Sunday by Sunday,
• the aroma of the House of Lords cigar he lit up after Sunday luncheon,
• watching that same cigar bobbing intriguingly between his lips and the growing length of ash,
• the metal lathe and steam engines he made with it,
• his voice telling the tales of his life as apprentice stationary engineer sailing the cargo vessels between Liverpool and Antwerp (his supervisor was a Mr. Kirkcaldy and he was a man to be feared!)

Training done, Gramps served as Engineer 4th class with the American Transport Line on passenger/cargo ships plying the Atlantic, London to NYC. He met Gram in New York, they married in 1911 and settled in Toronto where he became the chief engineer for the thriving city. He was 68 when I was born.

1961 - Gram and Gramps cheer on Dad and I poolside

1975 at my wedding

But my most treasured memory of Gramps dates to 1978. Norbert and I had bought land early in the year and having cleared the land, were building our house. Gramps wanted frequent updates on our progress and once the framing was up, he and my dad came up for an in-person inspection. We toured the foundations outside and inside, Gramps nodding and murmuring support. When we came the wooden extension ladder, the one with bits of black electrical tape mending a few of the rungs, we stopped to talk about what was happening above us. I figured the tour was over, I mean at 93 years, I wasn't expecting Gramps to climb that wooden ladder. 

To this day I can hear him say, 

"Well, are we just going to stand around here all day and gawk, or get up the ladder?"

This was one of the proudest moments of my life to stand alongside my beloved grandfather in my house, such as it was with plywood subfloor and 2 x 4 framing studs revealing roughed in plumbing and electrical at knee level. He inspected it all, approved of it all. I loved it all. 

Descending the ladder was more of a challenge than climbing it, but he did it. Still holding the ladder rails, but standing back on the cement foundation floor, Gramps looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes and said,

"Don't tell mother (meaning gram) about this!" 

And I never did. Thanks Gramps. Happy Birthday.

©2023 April Hoeller

Monday Meander - June 12, 2023

 RAIN!

It's been 23 days since the last significant rain in these parts. My fretting about fire danger, smokey air, and thirsty gardens washed away overnight by a glorious 50+mm (over 2 inches) of soothing showers descending from the sky. The garden rejoices with eye-popping colour dripping from every leaf and petal.

And yes, I was thrilled to get wet taking these photos this morning!

It's beautiful day in the neighbourhood. 

©2023 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - June 8, 2023

Looking outside these days, one would think that given the time of year, June not December, that a hot humid air mass would suffocate me if I stepped outside my door. Not so! It's a cool 16°C (61°F) and the hazy air stinks. Current AQI(US scale) as of 12:00 June 8 for Newmarket, the largest town near me: 164 - UNHEALTHY. Toronto is 132.

my street - the haze has been worse and is much worse in the city.

Plumes of smoke from wildfires in Quebec and Ontario's northeast waft across the land, obscuring the sun and carrying hazardous levels of tiny particles. These fine particles measure 2.5 microns (2.5/1000mm) or less and cannot be seen by our eyes (for reference human hair is around 70 microns). That small size makes them efficient infiltrators of deep lung tissue.

Smokey Sunset

I learned this first hand when I was in China in 2014.  I wrote in my journal: 

By evening on the second day in Shanghai,  I was stricken with an eye-watering, choking cough that erupted with almost every breath. 2am found me on the floor in the bathroom struggling for air and crying. I was sure the trip was over for me. I crawled back into bed where even sitting straight up sleep managed to find me for a scant 3 hours. It was enough to ease a some of my anxiety but I was still plagued intermittently by choked off breathing accompanied by a profound sluggishness of body and soul; every movement was an effort. 

Not a happy experience and the lung damage was a permanent, though not debilitating mild to moderate asthma. I don't get anxious about that anymore. I have meds and boxes of N95masks. The windows are kept shut, HVAC runs, and I'm spending most my day indoors. 

Still, I'm finding life these days frustrating and uneasy at the same time. Frustrating because there are things I'd like to be doing outside especially as it is so cool, but the air quality dictates otherwise. Anxious because rain still has not come and so the surrounding forests of predominantly pine stand like Roman candles just waiting for a spark. The forest fire risk is extreme. And all I can do is be aware, be vigilant, and be careful about both air and fire.

I got this!

©2023 April Hoeller

Monday Meander - June 5, 2023

I'm struggling to find any enthusiasm for kicking off my wagon into the first full week of June. Such inertia is fueled in no small part by the pall of forest fire smoke hanging in the air these days, all coming from Quebec and northern Ontario. Last night I could actually smell it and the full strawberry moon glowed a Halloween orange in the night sky. 

This morning's forecasts are dominated by air quality statements with little chance of significant rain until perhaps the weekend.

https://instantweather.ca/2023/06/05/wZRS6S-special-air-quality-statement-issued/ 

And by tomorrow, the fire danger risk is forecast to reach "Extreme" for my part of the province (circled in yellow).

https://cwfis.cfs.nrcan.gc.ca/maps/fw?type=fdr&year=2023&month=06&day=06

Is this the future of summers? 

I toured my garden this morning with these gloomy thoughts playing in my head.
The iris seemed uninterested in my lament. 

The lupins just smiled and waved, 

And the pansies remained blissfully unaware. 

I'm sure I heard them giggling with yellow delight!

So the message from the garden would seem to be:

            And one more thing...

PLEASE

Be fire smart!

Be aware. Be vigilant.

©2023 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - June 1, 2023

 

Summer has jumped the gun this year, rushing her entrance onto my doorstep a full three weeks before the solstice. Her usual entourage of bugs - black flies, mosquitoes, deer flies, and ants - are all present and correct for June 21 too. Even the "Bobbsey Twins", high humidity and poor air quality have shown up this week along with a heat warning in tow. My plants and flowers which last week were dodging frost, are this week crying out for copious drinks and umbrellas. There has been no rain here since May 20th and so the fire danger is high. Please, PLEASE be vigilant.

Watching my grandchildren splashing in their backyard wading pool this past Sunday brought back a flood of memories. 

Hot! Hot! Hot! So hot the tar bubbles up between the pebbles on the road; round, shiny black globs. I can smell the tar - acrid gasoline fumes rise up from the road surface. My flip flops stick haphazardly as I walk; sometimes a step is unhindered, other times the foam sole sticks then releases raising fine black strands of gooeyness. Round flat, black globs decorate the bottom of my favourite summer footwear. I scuff over to the lawn hoping the grass will wipe away the sticky tar. It's futile. Now I have flipflops with green grass clippings stuck to them. 

Happy days with wind in my face bike rides, 5¢ popsicles, 10¢ ice cream cones, Coppertone® sun tan lotion or maybe just a coating of baby oil (there was no sunscreen), big circulating fans swirling in the windows (the only A/C we had), family bbq's, and a backyard pool made summer an absolute delight.

me just chillin', 1972

Freshly filled in the first week of June each year, the water temperature began as a bracing 16°C (61°F) and then crawled it's way up to a blistering 23°C (74°F) by mid-August, aided at least in some small part by my mother and I dumping buckets of hot water to it while Dad was at work!

Dad's idea of chillin' in the pool, 1972

Mom 1971

My version of taking a dive, 1972

Stay cool folks. Be fire smart.

©2023 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - May 25, 2023

 A story of Survival

They spent another night crammed together in the garage. It was the fourth time this month that they'd been hauled from their pride of place and unceremoniously plunked onto the oil-stained cement floor. Jammed in between vehicles, a generator (not running!), and tools of every description, they spent yet another cold night. They were safer though than the ones left outside. Those poor beings had only burlap rags weighed down with bricks to protect them from Jack the Nipper. 

The day star rose to full brightness and the garage door opened, flooding the huddled mass with blinding light. One of the vehicles, the great silent one, rolled out of the garage allowing a cold draft to swirl in and around each one of them. Perhaps a shudder rattled through their slender limbs, surely they shivered. But then one by one they were lifted out of dankness into the warmth and light. They heard tender words spoken in hushed tones, mumbled apologies for the hardship and encouragement to keep on growing. 

What joy! What bliss! 

There also came a solemn warning - Jack Frost, aka The Nipper, would be on the prowl again tonight. For their own safety, they would have to spend yet another night on the cement floor in the dirty garage. 

©2023 April Hoeller

Monday Meander - May 22, 2023

It's a holiday Monday! 

Capping off a long weekend with sunshine. And not just any old long weekend but the summer kickoff weekend. I wrote in my Thursday, or Thereabouts post last week, that I was hoping that this great first long weekend of summer was much brighter and gentler than 2022's version and kicks off a season of  warm days and starry nights along with enough rain to keep it all beautiful. Well we got the much needed rain on Saturday, all 52mm (2.05 inches) and we got warm sun on Sunday and today. So we're off to a great start. 

It's been quiet here at the homestead. No family gatherings or other social events, which feels a bit odd, like there's something out of place. I'll try to fix that next year! Saturday's rain left me ample time to meander through photos of past Victoria Day weekends.  How and where have I let loose the bonds of winter on this revered weekend in the past?

A few times we were cruising.  

 Dover, England

Amsterdam

Venice

And guided by Schwartz, our intrepid we found places to raise a pint in every port!

But most often we are here at home where blossoms and blooms, firewood and feasts, with feathered and furry friends along with little ones decorate the days. 

Even this year, we made it fun in our own way. There was a trip into town - for more bits and bobs for the bathroom reno and new training shoes for me. What we came home with was a bag of elbows, hubs, and shut-offs, no shoes, and a new laptop computer! Turns out the computer store was beside the sports store. Who knew? And there was this sale... Need I say more? 

There was a bbq - burgers, local asparagus, and red wine, a sumptuous Baco Noir I'd been saving for just this time.

It's time to swing into summer. Let's do this!

  ©2023 April Hoeller