Tag Archives: snow

I Hate Not Easy

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Photo by Alex Green on Pexels.com

May 16 and snow on the ground. Our bed of garlic is beautiful in snow. I am frozen with inertia, not knowing how to start. I am still on my black tea and coffee kick so I am not even craving for another cuppa. For my almost a week of effort, I don’t have too much to show. The pound I lost, I got it back too soon enough. I haven’t given in. Now my plan is to cut back my rice portions. Being Chinese, I love my rice cooked in any style and in large portions. It’s not going to be easy.

I hate the not easy part but I will give it my best shot. I do want to lose the 10 pounds, get rid of my double chin and protuding tummy. Though I feel I’m not overeating, I am sure that my portions of everything are oversized. Researching portion sizes per meal, I found that meat should be 3-4 ounces, the size of the palm of my hand, cooked rice at 1/2 cup, 1/2 pound raw potato and 2.5 to 3 cups of vegetables a day. I guess I don’t have to worry about overdoing the veggies.

I’m back to starting my morings reading the two Heathers. I know. I’m poisoning my brain with all the corruption of Donald Trump and his merry men. I have to know what is going on. Yesterday at Freshco, cauliflower was $7.99 per head. There was no broccoli visible but was $4.99/lb. the day before. It is costing a considerably more to fill my car now than before Trump and his Iran war. All this makes it not easy to ignore the news, even if it is bad. Now that I got this off my chest, it’s time for me to move on to the next not so easy thing chore. But first I want to show off my garlic bed.

Pretty in White

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April 25th, 5 more days left in April and 5 more days in the Ultimate Blog Challenge. It is still snowing. My world is pretty in white. The pink garage door is a beautiful accent. I am tired, having stood the while, prepping and putting all the ingredients for chicken soup in the Instant Pot. I feel the snow in my bones. While it is not devastinating pain, it is the ache that can make you scream. So, a tylenol, a cup of tea and a few words of complaint for ease.

The sun is struggling through the grey. Some is better than none. The greenhouse feels amazingly warm at just a little above 10℃. I had to shovel or wade through the deep snow to get to its door. I shoveled. The snow was wet and heavy. It was good exercise. I filled a bucket and added it to the half pail of water inside. Then I filled the bucket again. It will melt down for more watering the beds and seedlings. I hope this will be the last snowfall till next winter. The forecast says flurries are expected to start in 38 minutes. But just now the sun burst through the grey as if to say, No!

Needless to say, the weather and life are a bit strange these days. I feel as if I am living in Margaret Atwood’s science fiction. It would be nice that I’m just having a bad dream. It would be wonderful if when I wake up, there’s no snow and no climate change, no Donald Trump, Pete whatshisname, Kash Patel and all their gang. I wonder if that’s too much to ask for.

Still Waiting

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Photo by Muhammed Fatih Beki on Pexels.com

We are still waiting for the snow to fall. It had rained during the night. The skies are grey. The streets are wet. It’s 0 outside and 7℃ in the greenhouse. It’s not a picture of sunshine, lollypops and rainbows. I’m doing a little bit of house cleaning. Having something physical to do gives me a sense of comfort and stability during these uncertain times. Our mothers were wise. In times of trouble, they get busy scrubbing floors and cleaning out cupboards. It’s a good way of working out frustrations. While the hands are busy, it frees the brain to free float and find solutions. It’s killing two birds with one stone.

Now it is after 1 pm. We are still waiting for the snow. The skies are still grey. The winds were fierce this morning but have calmed a wee bit. I am sipping on my second cup of tea. My siblings and I had a meeting with the palliative nurse regarding the care of our father. It is wonderful to have the guidance and resources of the program. We groped blindly through the care and passing of our mother. It was very stressful and traumatic . We’ve learned through the process. I still teared with the memory of that time.

I am waiting for the storm to come and pass. I am waiting for the sun to shine. I am waiting for spring and summer. I am waiting for peace. I wonder what the wait time is.

Winter Again

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Looks like winter is here again. It’s been snowing steadily since early afternoon and will most of the night. And most likely tomorrow as well. The moisture is welcomed by the farmers which includes us. We are farmers as well as gardeners. A little sun would be welcomed though. Without the sun, the temperature in the greenhouse has dipped. The little heater has been running most of the day to stay above 0. Presently it is sitting at 3.1℃. The snow peas, onions and celery are fine with that. I brought in the young seedlings of tomatoes, peppers and egg plants.

I wonder when spring will come and stay. It is the middle of April. I wonder if and how all the bombing and destruction going on in the Middle East have affected air quality and climate change. I wonder if all the warring kings have given any thought to how they are destroying our planet and humanity. Why are humans killing other humans? So what if they win the whole world and there’s nobody on it except their 1%? I wonder about so many things. The older I get, the less I understand. So let it snow. Let it snow. Maybe Santa will come down the chimney tonight. Won’t that be a surprise?

I might be getting a little daft. Last night I dreamt I was talking to my mother on the phone. All she said was, Hafong. Hafong is my Chinese name. It reminded me of her last call to me. It has been a year and a half now. She is gone and yet she is still here within me. She reminds me of it now and again in dreams and other ways. One time she woke me up from a nap. I felt her hands on my back. I thought it was the guy. I was a little disorientated and muttered, Is it day or night? When I opened my eyes, it was daylight and there was no one in the room. But I sure felt those hands.

This Always Happens

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A cloudy snowy Tuesday evening. This always happen when I think winter is definitely over and spring is here to stay. It was so sunny and warm Easter Sunday. The greenhouse went up to almost 30℃. I merrily planted some of my snowpeas. They were very happy to have more dirt to grab onto. It got a little cooler the next day but still sunny. The temperature dipped at night and it went down to -1℃ in the morning. Still not too bad as we still had a sunny day. I turned on the little heater for night time insurance.

Now the snow is really coming down, soft and feathery. The forecast is for a heavy load – till 4 am. It is a pretty sight to watch. Not too much I can do about it. I might as well have some pleasure from it. The snow peas will be ok. They can tolerate cool temperatures down to -2℃. I have brought my little tomato and pepper seedlings back into the house. They do not thrive in cool temperatures.

I’m not thriving in our present climate either. I took a day off from my keyboard yesterday. I was out of words. It was a good reason to take a rest.

Resilience

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When I woke up this morning it was still snowing and the wind still blowing. It is still. The snow is piled up against the greenhouse door again. The two pails of snow I took in yesterday did not amount to much when melted. All is cosy inside, the roof being insulated with the cover of snow. The little heater is running. The temperature barely 6℃. Being no sun yesterday there was no residual heat built up to help the heater. As long as it’s above 0 that is good enough.

While not feeling stressed, I am not exactly ecstatic or joyful. I wonder how the plants are feeling in these times of climatic change. I will pay close attention. They might teach me the art of resilience by how they grow and perform. It will give me a sense of purpose in observing and helping them to thrive. We are all connected. We need plants as much as we need other people to survive. It’s a symbiotic relationship.

I’m deciding what to do with my #100dayproject – of a daily painting for 100 days. I’ve done up to day 58. I’m tired and not so enthused any more. I feel I’m regressing, my colours muddy. Perhaps it’s fatigue talking. I can paint simpler things. I can also take longer. I can also quit if it doesn’t bring me joy. That’s what Marie Kondo would say.

I am still surviving the Ultimate Blog Challenge. I’m learning changing the time I come to the keyboard makes a difference.

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

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It is wordless Wednesday but not snowless. Though I have been looking forward to the snow and skiing, my body and mind had to do some adjusting. After all, the snow and cold were 2 months later than last year. I’ve forgotten what to do when I do get onto the cross country ski trails.

As you can see, I’m not wordless. It is not a bad thing. We have been that and contact-less for the years of the Covid. We need to converse and tell our stories and feelings again. You know, get to know each other again. Be human, vulnerable, let down our guards, laugh, cry and whatever. In the past, I’ve thought that I’ve talked too much, shared too much, left myself opened too much. True, I’ve been hurt many times. I’m none the worse for it. I’m still standing. And I’ve learned a whole bunch. I’m not saying I’m wiser. That is obvious. I’m still talking – maybe a tad too much.

More snow pictures. It’s another way I talk. Killing softly with photos.

ON DIFFICULT TIMES

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November 2, the second day of a new month. I’m still motivated and since it is NaNoWriMo I could come to this space and write a post a day. I don’t have it in me to write a novel of 50,000 words in 30 days. I have tried to a couple of times and failed. I’m a woman of few words. I believe what I have to say is more important than the number of words. It could be that I am just comforting myself with that idea. It works. Comfort is what is needed in November.

I am still pleased with myself on how I am staying on course with my missions began in October. Some days are better than others. No matter how they are, I keep plodding along. If I do fall and I have, I pick up where I had left off. I do not think I am behind. It’s a phrase I picked up from The FlyLady. I’ve been on this self-help, self-improvement gig a long time. Even though I am no longer a FlyLady follower, some things stick, coming back to help me along this road. I never give up. I pick myself up,dust myself off and continue on. The road of life is very interesting. There are many things to see and learn.

It just happens that I am reading novels about the times of the Depression and the Dust Bowl. The Four Winds by Kristin Hannah and Whose Names Are Unknown by Senora Babb are excellent reads. The Four Winds was published in 2021. Whose Names Are Unknown was written in the 1930s, not published till 2006. These stories of those difficult finanical times and ecological disasters are revelant to what is happening in today’s pandemic and climate change world. They also remind me of our early years in Canada as immigrants. They were lean though we had a roof over our heads, warm clothing and we never went hungry. Our little rented 2-room house was between the cafe and the town outhouse. Often it was mistaken for the outhouse. It had a pot-belly stove and peeling floors. We lived in the community but we were not of the community. It was no one’s fault. I’ve never felt despair. Difficult times prepared me for living.

November 3. I woke to see snow on the ground. I felt it before I saw it. It was not enough to light up the world. It was still pitch black at 6 am and -5℃. It got colder to -7℃ but the sun is shining on me at 9:22 am. The greenhouse is sitting at 6℃. I hope the sun will linger though the forecast calls for clouds. Traffic is moving slow on this first day of snow. It is backed up from Taylor to 8th Street as we are on the only street out of StoneBridge. I wonder what could happen if there was a huge emergency. How will vehicles get in and out? Best not to think about such things so early in the morning. Bad things might not happen if we don’t think on it. Somehow, I don’t think things work that way. Just look at history. Wish we could/would learn from it. Wish we could do better. If horses were wishes.

THE BEST AND THE WORSE DAYS OF 2021

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January 4th, Day 4 of the Ultimate Blog Challenge, Day 3 of the Positivity Challenge. It has been a challenging day. My positivity assignment was a date watching the sunrise or sunset. No phones. No devices. Just me and mother nature. The sunrise was rather bland as no sun came up. All I saw was the grey of the sky lightened by the white of snow everywhere. I thought I could kill 2 birds with one stone shovelling snow while watching. I was out in nature. Would you call a shovel a device?

The questions from the Unravelling My Year are:

  1. What was the best day in 2021? What happened?
  2. What was the most difficult day in 2021? What happened?

The questions are hard to answer. My 2021 was peaceful and tranquil. That is my thought at this moment. Of course I’m sitting here with a glass of red wine. What I know for sure is there were difficult moments but after they have passed, the difficult part is forgotten. What else I know for sure is I have grown stronger and more resilient with the years. I am a fighter. I do not dwell in darkness. I always fight my way into the light. I have always love winter, the cold and the snow. I love the darkness, too. It is a part of me. Sometimes the worse of times is my best of times. It drives me to create.

The Worse of Times

Doubt often creeps in
On fatigue’s uncertain feet,
Filling me with fear.
And I would have to reach
Deep into Faith’s pocket for trust,
And remember that often,
My worst of times are
The best of times.

Unbound Joy

Unbound joy, a girl and her dog,
Walking and running on the river,
Each lost in thought and dream,
Content, just being with the Universe.

God’s Land

Frozen expanse under blue skies,
My footprints in the snow.
Overhead a plane soars
On its way to Elsewhere.
I hear God’s voice calming me,
Shhhhhhhh!
All is bright, all will be right,
In God’s land we abide.

Free Spirits

Jumping for joy
on the river of life,
Naked in our happiness,
baring our souls.
Leaping and laughing,
free spirits in the wind.

MEANWHILE

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I woke up to snow and -8℃! Happily it was 4.4℃ in the greenhouse. Of course it dropped a bit until the sun rises. There is no sun today. It is almost 10:30 and the greenhouse is sitting at 5.6℃. I hope the sun will make a showing later on. Meanwhile the covers stays on everything for extra warmth. I had brought in my trays of seeding last night. Everything is an experiment this spring. I wonder if the cooler temperatures at night in the greenhouse affect the germination. Will I have to reseed them? Time will tell. I have time.

Meanwhile the world still turns. Covid-19 is still here and still rising. Our province’s stats are not good at all. Despite this, there are still anti-mask people protesting about their freedom. The news from Brazil is alarming. There are more than 2, 200 deaths daily from Covid-19. Then there’s rising Asian hate in the U.S. and Canada. It is very hard to understand and digest all this. I guess it is all right for me to have a blue funk day once in awhile. Life is hard. Now life is harder. But it can be an opportunity to see as we’ve never seen before. We are all captured and captivated by this virus. There is no discrimination, no borders unbound.

Meanwhile, I am happy to see that my blogger friend, Minna from Suddenly Mad is still writing. She was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer in 2016. It has been progressing, affecting her balance and walking. She started babbling incoherently in 2018. It has not affected her ability to write or draw though, but her posts are coming slower and further apart. I have learned much from them. They are very rich. Minna is an artist and was a professor at a university in New York. Then last summer, her husband/caregiver was diagnosed with lung cancer. They are both carrying on.

We all have our hard spots. My little episodes of blue funk are really nothing but a glitch in the day. They are like the clouds that drift in and out of the sky. Perfects I need them to anchor and remind me of what it is to be alive. I’m fortunate to have the tools of writing and photography to record my highs and lows. I am the weather girl.