mumma yaga

     Chestnuts picked up at the roadside are hatching! They look polished and their subtle markings are like wood grain. Lovely to hold in your hand. Covid day 203, Sept.29 Tamar writes to say that Indre is doing fine attending virtual school on-line. She enjoys new friends and gets her schoolwork done each day. Robin's class got a teacher several days after school started: the school board has been scrambling to find extra teachers and Early Childhood Educators for the younger grades. Robin is learning on-line too, but the young children need in-person play and socializing. They are just developing their social skills and physicality at his age. I have spoken with him on Facetime and he is a good communicator on-line, displaying good verbal skills and interactive show-and-tell with his ipad.  Robin's hair is curling as it gets longer. K, Nick, Robin and Elf's son, Cricket, are all growing their hair - the pandemic has restricted hair salon visits until recently and I'm

 sept 27 This is the Missisquoi River. It is older than the Green Mountains (northern Appalachians) dating to 375 million years ago, 25 million years before the mountains rose up. How can that be? It just kept on flowing along while mountains pushed up beneath it like someone sliding into bed under a sleeping cat. Three weeks ago as we drove south from Montréal the forest was green except for the maples that had turned red. Now the mountains are quilted in red, yellow, purple and orange. The pale purple aster is a perfect offset to the fall trees.             This is Rain and Tal's farm. The sugar shack (not in use) on the left and the farmhouse on the right. Many houses here are clad in cedar which doesn't require a finish - it doesn't rot and ruin. In Japan cedar is widely used for houses and temples and ages to a lovely grey. One can see cedar fences and barns in Ontario too.      Rain and Tal's dogs, Handsome and Strong. (Note: names derived from 200924 post, not pr

Sept. 23: Below: found this person in the garbage can. tipped it down so he could escape. He was bigger than Fig! doesn't look in there. The mud room at the back door is becoming a mumma yaga plant-drying shed. Flowers from Rain's garden, and several mints. I am drying some bulrushes on the deck for weaving. Of course, I googled how to prepare the rushes and The Weaver Woman was there to answer my questions! what a world! I will put her link at the footnotes.      Wild Turkeys. Do they fly south in the winter? Do they know it will soon be turkey hunting season?  Below: This saw wheel is about five feet in diameter. What a relic! Does it still work? Paul Bunyan's table saw.  sept 24 Yesterday and this morning it has been so warm. We had frost on the weekend. So is this "Indigenous Peoples' summer"? When I was a child it was called Indian Summer, the brief return of warm temperatures and sunshine following the first frosts; in Ontario it occurs in October like b

sept 20/21 Yes, 'n' how many years can a mountain exist Before it is washed to the sea? Yes, 'n' how many years can some people exist Before they're allowed to be free? Yes, 'n' how many times can a man turn his head And pretend that he just doesn't see? The answer, my friend, is blowin' in the wind The answer is blowin' in the wind. - B. Dylan I thought of this song because yesterday I asked myself: How many years, or hundreds of years does it take for an invasive species to become a native species? I was looking at these invasive plants [photo on left] who have taken over many roadside swamps from the bulrush [at right], a beautiful and sturdy reed that plays a valuable role in its environment. It helps to hold fast and support wetlands which are a key part of the water-earth cycle and has been a native long enough to connect to and work with the flora and fauna of its world. On these rushes the seed heads have burst open and the white fluffy s

Morning sky (Sept. 19). Below, flowers at Rain and Tal's farm. Last year their dahlias took first prize. And a little trespasser: a skunk caterpillar. (not it's real name, I think).                  (sept 18) It was chilly all day with the wind from the north. Last night the dew froze on the deck table. But tonight it is calm and warm. The passing cars, the headlights and the rush, are people coming to a weekend haven, heaven, somehow comforting.  I am waiting for some stars to come out. Can't tell just yet if there's a haze of clouds or it's too early. In the city I miss the stars.The "lots" of stars (miriad?), the black dimensions that resolve, the Milky Way a ferris wheel spinning. How I have missed this. [I keep remembering a marvelous book that addresses the disappearance of stars, called Nightfall , written by Asimov and Silverberg, two of the great early sci-fi writers. I cannot find an e-copy, but there may be paper copies out there.] Our host, Luc

 sept 17   The world is too much with us: the words have been knocking at my brain since yesterday. I have been feeling that I want to shut out for now the wider world of newsmedia. We are already in our second week of holiday and we spent a lot of yesterday talking about that world. As the novelty of our surroundings wore off, we thoughtlessly let the work-a-day news back in. I could feel the the "uptick" (to use the covid news buzzword of the year) of stress, the increased adrenaline level. I want to return in mind to our physical place, this little house, and the circle of cedars that shelters us from the wind and frames the star-scape in the black sky at night. It is such a tonic for K and me to be together, no other person (except Fig) to distract us, to curtail our conversations and silences. On Wednesday we walked a trail into the forest: there was sometimes no sound but the wind in the trees and the running of a brook. Around us was bare forest floor as far as we coul

           The maples that turn red are among the first trees to change as fall approaches. A load of firewood was delivered yesterday by a most friendly neighbour who keeps busy in retirement providing small services to residents and seasonal visitors. He owns and gets to drive this groovy tractor!! Sept. 16   [Mummayaga is currently in Quebec]   Several recent articles have given me hope. A Guardian piece today, by Mohammad El-Erian, describes some silver linings to the covid-19 crisis, among them cooperation between public and private sectors, between nations' scientists and corporations, renewed understanding and hope for climate change, among other things.* Meanwhile Prime Minister Trudeau is looking at going green, committing to leaving an oil-fueled (haha) energy platform to force Canada towards an end to carbon emissions. This remark ( from 2019) by Trudeau was quoted in an article by Michael Harris in The Tyee, September 14, 2020:   “That means not putting any more carbon

 Sept. 13 Lac Memphremagog.                                          Water-plants.       Saturday morning was cold but it cleared up later and warmed. I like highways. Below, a baby cloud fell asleep on the mountain-side.               Below: It looks like I came to the right place! The charity shop has half-buried china plates for a garden border! I think they might love my mosaics. At right, Fig tries on his new (second-hand) spike collar. Wants to fit in with the other dogs, but his curly fur seems to give him away and hide his fierce spikes.     I spent Saturday and Sunday morning browsing charity shops with Rain. One sale was of jewelry donated to raise money for the youth centre (amazing place!), we attended both days! Such a treasure hunt and most things priced at 2 to 3 dollars - what fun and such nice people there. We went back to the farm to sit in the sun and have a gloat. A gloat is sharing your finds after a sale. The love of charity and church sales I learned from my moth