Thursday, or Thereabouts - October 9, 2014

An Embarrassment of Riches...

Thanksgiving Weekend stands on the doorstep bidding me come, enjoy, celebrate, and give thanks for the harvest.

   






For both the early pioneers and the indigenous tribes, this time of year in North America was one both deepest gratitude and fervent hope. Come wind, come weather the land had yielded her best and barns were full. But would the bounty be enough to sustain life through a winter of unknowns?

I have not known such a tenuous life, none of my family have. Sure we've had our struggles, our lean times, but we've always been able to gather together at Thanksgiving amid an abundance of food, laughter and love - an embarrassment of riches.

I am as humbled as I am grateful for this bounty. I've companioned others whose lives been flipped upside down by a sudden reversal of fortune and I'm now of great enough age to be keenly aware that good living does not grant any immunity from calamity down the road. A winter of unknowns may give warning but never asks permission to visit, let alone stay a while.

Yet today the sun is shining, the world just outside my door is decked out in Autumn splendour, and the cup of my life is overflowing with good things. So I accept the invitation to enjoy, celebrate and give thanks for the harvest. 

My heart is full of "Thanks Giving."

©2014 April Hoeller

A Prayer of Gratitude

"We are grateful for eyes that see and ponder, for taste buds that know the sensuous pleasures of eating and drinking, for hands that hold and touch and feel, for ears that can delight in music and the voice of a friend, for a nose that can smell the aroma of newly mown grass or delicious food, and can also breathe the air that gives us life. 

We are grateful for the treasure of loved ones whose hearts of openness and acceptance have encouraged us to be who we are. We are  grateful for their faithfulness, for standing by us when our weaknesses stood out glaringly, for being there when we were most in need and for delighting with us in our good days and our joyful seasons.  

We are grateful for the eyes of faith, for believing in the presence of God, giving us hope in our darkest days, encouraging us to listen to our spirit’s hunger, and reminding us to trust in the blessings of God’s presence in our most empty days. 

We are grateful for the ongoing process of becoming who we are, for the seasons within, for the great adventure of life that challenges and comforts us at one and the same time. 

We are grateful for the messengers of God - people, events, written or spoke words - that came to us at just the right time and helped us to grow.  

We are grateful for God calling us to work with our gifts, grateful that we can be of service and use our talents in a responsible and just way. 

We are grateful that we have the basic necessities of life, that we have the means and the ability to hear the cries of the poor and to respond with our abundance."

©1992 Joyce Rupp: May I have this Dance?  p. 151

Thursday, or Thereabouts - September 4, 2014

"Hurricane" Norbert

What began as a tropical depression in the Pacific Ocean, grew into a tropical storm and is now Hurricane Norbert.

NOAA - National Hurricane Center

What's so special about this? Well not very much - an entirely normal event in the eastern Pacific Ocean at this time of year has followed an entirely normal pattern of development - EXCEPT this tropical cyclone share's my Love's name. It had my attention the moment NOAA posted the first advisory and I have followed Norbert all week.

The name is not a popular appellation, not a Tom, Dick or Harry kind of name at all and I was thrilled to imagine this naming as an entirely unique event - the very first time Norbert had been a hurricane. Alas, a few keystrokes and the fount of all knowledge, Google, dumped a deluge on my bravado. No less than three other Norberts have churned up wind and rain in the Pacific (September 1984, September 1990, and October 2008); two of these, 1984 & 2008, were major hurricanes (Category 4).

At this writing Hurricane Norbert is about 255km south-southwest of the southern tip of Baja, California and is not expected to intensify too much more. I couldn't help but smile as I read through the rest of NOAA bulletin - there were definite similarities to the Norbert I know so well.

sustained winds of 150km/h; moving NW at 11km/h: "Yeah," says my love reading over my shoulder, "that's me - lots of spin but lacking significant forward motion." 

a little more organised this morning: good to know and indeed yes he was, in the morning. 

Category 1; absolutely, no question, he is my #1.

September 6, 1975

My "Hurricane" Norbert and I celebrate 39 years of storming through life together on Saturday (Sept. 6).
We are a loosely organised system that tracks all over the globe with no sign of dissipating in the foreseeable future. We have two spin-offs that are well on their way to becoming well developed systems with their own pattern of travel and landfall. We are blessed.

May 6, 2014 - The Great Wall of China, Badaling Hills

©2014 April Hoeller

"Love does not consist of gazing at each other, but in looking together in the same direction." 

Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Monday Moanings - June 9, 2014

A blast from the near past, almost a year ago yet as true now as it was then, and probably ever shall be.
Dust Bunnies and Fur balls still gather in the corners to plot their conquest but in my kitchen love, laughter and good food always have the upper hand, and I still adore my kitchen.

From July 29, 2013 (with a few minor alterations):

Carol Burnett - The Charwoman

Monday again! The day that, according to my schedule, is 'housework' day; the day The Maid in me comes out to restore cleanliness and good order; the day that, at its close, allows me to rightfully lay claim to a "Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval." High fives all around!

This Maid is well schooled in all the tools and techniques of her trade. She has no shortage of buckets, brooms, rags and mops to go with her well chosen array of solvents and solutions, sprays and polishes. Most are 'Green' at least according to the label but a few are not so environmentally friendly - because sometimes a blowtorch just isn't practical! There is just one thing this poster maid from the 1950's lacks, one flaw in an otherwise perfect performance. Regularity. And not the kind remedied by bran. In point of fact, the woman cannot be trusted to show up on a regular basis and do her job!

Every Monday? Dream on! One Monday a month? Hmmm, not likely. One day, any day, once a month? Perhaps. How about a half day every four to six weeks? Deal! Or at least a tentative arrangement. Is it any wonder I have so few of those Good Housekeeping awards? Sometimes she does indeed arrive as agreed then spends the day drinking coffee and leafing through travel magazines. Can you believe it? The only warning of her arrival is the clattering of buckets, brooms and mops accompanied by a few expletives as she searches for potions not put back where they belong. If she were a smoker, there would be fag dangling from the corner of her mouth.

So imagine my surprise when this past Friday morning, the grumbling woman thumped into my kitchen, ordered a mug of coffee, then set to work. The dust bunnies gasped in horror, the fur balls scattered, the crumbs crumbled and the big drips hung on for dear life. The sugary bits burned into the stove top laughed, sure of their tenacity to outwit all the maid's solutions, but the giggles died the instant a razor blade scraper flashed in the sunshine. She brandished her weapon high, then one quick scrape here, another two or three there and not a trace was left, save for the maid's triumphant chortle. Then the chairs were wiped down and moved out; the lights turned up high for a full assault on the floor. There was nowhere to hide from this maid on a mission. The broom handled the first sweep, then the tractor beam of the vacuum sucked up the run-aways. A thorough mopping up completed the operation.

And then she was gone. As quickly as she had appeared, the Maid vanished into thin air, leaving behind a pile of dirty rags and a pristine kitchen. Mission accomplished. And it was a fine mission, well executed and successful, at least as far as the kitchen. Wonder when she'll be back to do the rest of the house? I'm thinking it won't be today, or any day this week for that matter. Next week? I'd best not hold my breath. In the mean time, already I notice that baby dust bunnies have emerged from god knows where and furry bits are beginning to gather in groups again. A few crumbs have even eased their way back onto the counters, but the stove top is still shiny.

I love my kitchen.
It is the place where so much of life happens.

Good things are made here.

Good things happen here.

Pristine has its time and place but most of the time I think my kitchen deserves a 'lived in' look, dust bunnies, fur balls and all.


"No matter where I serve my guests, it seems they like my kitchen best."  (anon.)







©2014 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - March 6, 2014

A Treasure Box Day

Twenty-seven years ago today I awoke to labour pains. Our second baby was on the way. It was a cloudy and very warm day, +8C by noon (compare that with today's -18C, but it's sunny!). At 2:35pm all 9 lbs.7 oz. of her splashed into our lives sporting a head of spikey red hair.

I said "splashed" because my waters did not break but rather backed up behind the babe and she rode something of a tidal wave out of me. The crash as the waters hit the floor of the delivery room is one of most vivid memories of the day - that and the red hair. Oh, and maybe the fact that beside all the other newborns ours looked like a 3 month old. But I was sort of used to that. Our firstborn was 9-1/4 pounds.
We make 'em big it seems.

My love and I are so very proud of both our son and daughter. They have grown into responsible, intelligent and happy adults with lives and loves of their own.

My treasure box is overflowing with joy, love and gratitude. 

We are blessed. 

©2014 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - February 13, 2014

A breath of fresh air

The Olympics overwhelm me - the superlatives of height, speed, twists, turns, triumphs and grace set against the failures, accidents, misfortune and broken dreams gets to be too much. Today is a day to take some deep cleansing breaths and step away from all that tension.





Today finds my love and I heading into the city to explore the new Ripley's Aquarium.  I'm anticipating a delightful submersion into a virtual underwater experience where we will be treated to the vibrant colour and astonishing form of critters we know and love from dive trips. And we will do this without struggling with all the heavy gear and gauges scuba diving demands! I can feel the "ahhhhh" settling into my bones just thinking about it.








Then there's supper at Sabatino's Ristorante - I'm anticipating olive oil, garlic, basil infused delights for the palate accompanied by a red wine from the Veneto.

A gondola glides past the Rialto, two lovers kiss...












It will be a lovely day with my forever Valentine.
And Sophie sends this "Salami d'Amour" Valentine to all:

©2014 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - December 26, 2013

On the Feast of Stephen...The Second Day of Christmas

The view outside my door this morning - a fresh snowfall

Time to put together the Christmas Box for all our servants and trades people on the estate and top up the alms box in the church for the poor. It's the Feast of Stephen!

What's that you say? That's not done anymore?

Our Tree Christmas Morning

Well it is true that I don't live on an estate, though my abode would be considered palatial in some parts of the world; I don't have any servants or tradespeople working for me, though this morning there is a very nice young man (my daughter's man) clearing snow off the steps and deck; and if I could find a church nearby that was open I'd be hard pressed to find the alms box. What I can find on this Boxing Day is a celebration of greed at shopping malls and big box stores -- a retail frenzy that I have absolutely zero interest in seeing or hearing about, and much less in partaking of it's lineups and chaos.


Today the joy of Christmas continues as we gather for a festive celebration of the season with my extended family. There will be noise as children, parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins all come together; there will be a boxes and bags and a frenzy of torn wrapping paper as the young ones open yet another deluge Christmas presents; there will be plates piled high with food, full glasses and even fuller hearts. Memories will be made and love will be shared.
It will still be Christmas.

©2013 April Hoeller

Monday Moanings - October 14, 2013

Thanksgiving Day in Canada

In my household, today is a day to kick back, relax, enjoy and Clean Up - our family celebration was yesterday. As always, it was more than of a feast of plenty, it was a feast of  "too much". We all ate too much, I made too much, and it rained too much. Yet it was also a plentiful cornucopia of good conversation, good laughs, and great love. We feasted on the usual roast turkey with two stuffings (my Mom's traditional sage and thyme bread stuffing with chestnuts and a wild rice & rye stuffing), candied sweet potatoes - also my Mom's recipe - and oven roasted veggies (broccoli, cauliflower, beets, butternut squash, radish topped with pomegranate and bacon bits).


We pushed ourselves away from the table to take a breather before tucking into a dessert of apple pie with ice cream and pumpkin pie with whipped cream.

And the wine, all Ontario of course, ... we polished off rieslings from Thirty Bench and Cave Spring (my family are lovers of this varietal and it's a great choice for turkey, though personally I would have gone with a Gewurztraminer or Viognier), a Malivoire Old Vines Marechal Foch, of which the turkey enjoyed a really good snootful and an Angel's Gate Pinot Noir. Phew!





Good thing we got some exercise on Saturday taking in the Erin Fall Fair. Humongous pumpkins, cute animals, humongous trucks, the usual rides, humongous tractors, great french fries and to top it all off a tractor pull. Nothing says southern Ontario farming better than a good ol' tractor pull (unless of course it's a ploughing match).

 

This year we didn't have to wait until 11pm for the fire and smoke of the modified tractors. The order was changed to place the noisy classes of tractors earlier in the evening. Apparently the seniors in the nearby houses complained about all the raucous way past their bed time. Yup, I get that! Thanks to my sister Cathy and her hubby Bill for offering soup, sandwiches, free parking and clean washrooms! Love ya!

It's been a great weekend of thanks giving.
We are safe.
We are happy.
We are healthy.
We are free.
My heart is full, love and gratitude woven finely together. It can't get much better than that.

Happy Thanksgiving!

text and photos ©2013 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - Sept. 5, 2013

Time flies!

1970

Thirty-eight years ago today I was enjoying the last day of my life as a single woman, or as read in the banns of marriage, "a spinster of this parish."  All of 22 years old and already a spinster. Imagine that! The old language would seem to have credited me with far more experience than I actually had. I was still living at home in 1975 and like my older sister before me and my younger after me, I went directly from my parents' home to married life without ever truly experiencing the world as a single woman.

I have never lived alone and had to fend for myself. Now this never bothered me back in the day. I was thrilled to be marrying my high school sweetheart, the love of my life. The wonderful world lay before us and we wanted to live it together. We still do, even though the world isn't quite as wholly wonderful as we thought way back then.

If I had to do it all over again, knowing what I know now of course,

September 6, 1975

I'd have taken some time on my own, just a couple of years to learn something about it all. On gloomy days, with both my love and I being now in our sixties, it worries me that the day may well come when I will have to go it alone, and I don't know the first thing about it.

It's best not to get too caught up in such solemn truths, yet it's also folly to deny them, so I'll just render these grim realities a brief nod of acknowledgement, then carry on through our days together.

Thirty-eight years ago my boyfriend and I went out on our last date as singles. The midnight curfew was still in effect but I scared the bejeezus out my folks by returning home at ten. The colour slowly drained from Mom's face and Dad walked toward me, arms outstretched,"Everything all right, dear?"

"Yup, everything is perfect."
And it still is.

Grow old along with me! 
The best is yet to be, 
The last of life, for which the first was made: 
Our times are in His hand 
Who saith "A whole I planned, 
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!''
Robert Browning

2011

2013

Thursday, or Thereabouts - July 11, 2013

"Fill your paper with the breathings of your heart."

This William Wordsworth quotation has been bouncing around in my consciousness for a few days now, and I'm happy to report that several more pages of the memoir I'm working on have been filled as a result of that bobber in the midst of the otherwise placid lake of my mindfulness. Yay!

Some days fishing is a good metaphor for my writing process - just throw out a line and see what's biting.Today I'm honing 'catch and release' skills, which in fishing is a fine and admirable practice but in writing nets a very paltry take, unless of course you are my inner critic. My inner critic is having a blast. She can hardly believe her luck on the lake today. All I can hear is her gleeful cackle: "That one's too big. That one's too small. That one's no good. That one bites."

The write fish has got to be out there, somewhere. I check my tackle and recast the line, aiming for the quiet pool just beyond the reeds, just over the rock ledge, that ... perfect ... spot. Ahh but alas, perfection is the inner critic's splash park. No wonder she's having so much fun today!

Time for me to exchange my pen for the camera, for today the breathings of my heart inspire me discover wordless images of beauty and wonder, joy and love. And that's about as perfect as anything gets.

Let's go for a walk in my garden.

Now let's head over to the York Regional Forest - Hollidge Tract

And back home again for a good roll in the grass:

All photos ©April Hoeller 2013

Monday Moanings - July 1, 2013

NO Moaning allowed today!

It's Canada Day

and

I am Canadian!

Today is for fun, food and family. 

On the menu today:

crostini with garlic scape pesto

Canadian Cheddar & Oka cheeses

balsamic glazed steak with rosemary, grilled to perfection on the bbq

potatoes with oregano butter

grilled zucchini, asparagus, peppers and mushrooms

Ontario Strawberries served over vanilla ice cream on grilled pound cake (homemade of course!) and topped with whipped cream.

And the wines: Peninsula Ridge 2011 Beal Vineyards Cabernet Rose & Thirty Bench 2009 Small Lot Pinot Noir

Today is for leisure, laughter and love.

All will be surrounded with pride and gratitude.

Thank you Canada!

Happy 146th Birthday!

© photowings - Fotolia.com