The Country Mice

We have a lot of birds around this place. Jays, chickadees, flickers, woodpeckers, nuthatches and grosbeaks crowd around the feeders every day.

We also have a lot of windows. Most of one wall is made of glass panels — makes for lots of natural light blasting in to the place.

Unfortunately all that transparent glass makes for illusory blue skies as far as the feathered folk are concerned.

We’ve observed a few stunned birds sitting on the deck and at those times are thankful our feline friends opted to remain on the farm and enjoy rural living in place of the coastal lifestyle.

While the Princess has commenced the Island Burial Grounds under a nearby pine tree, most of the feathered ones survive their crash landing with a few moments’ respite.

This little fellow flew off with just a headache and was shortly back at the feeder.

Regardless of the reason why, it’s a moment of magic to hold a tiny creature like this Pine Warbler.

The last few lazy hazy days of summer are highly treasured around here. We all get a little sentimental (okay, *I* do; what about it?) with another year gone, another year older, another year closer to childhood being all over…

excuse me while I dab my eyes…

So a trip to the beach gets the excess energy out and allows us to explore our little island.

Our collection of seal vertebrae and rib bones is growing. The Princess has a little stash on the balcony outside her bedroom. Seal bones, eagle feathers, mussel and oyster shells balance atop one another in her little shrine which, I’m told, honours nature. How well she learned her lessons from her three years with Mr. Wagner!

Homeboy finds his own little stash of nature too — a long and only slightly decaying length of bull kelp.

Hey! This thing’s pretty long! And it has just the right amount of tensile strength that I should be able to commence something that will torment my tree-hugging sister!

Yeeee-hawwww! Come along, little doggie!

The little doggie has no particular bone to pick and continues her search for osteopathic specimens.

How about you, big doggie? Wanna get lassoed or whupped or slimed by my rope of oceanic vegetation?

Should have named him Errol.

The day dawned clear and sunny and a perusal of the roof revealed — horrors! — the gutters were jam-packed with dry arbutus leaves, a result of the recent and lengthy absence of rain. To date a grand total of three millimetres — three! — of rain has sprinkled on this little isle since June. A little spooky for a temperate rainforest.

All able-bodied workers were summoned to the roof top to start scooping.

The Princess told me she’d give me $50 — one half of her life’s savings — if I’d build her a room on the roof.

The north angle of the roof collects the moss and some kicking, picking and tossing ensued. I had maternal visions of inertia taking the tossers over the gutter’s edge to lay in a crumpled heap of broken limbs and crushed foliage but *exhale* nothing of the sort transpired.

For my part, I stayed on terra firma. Had to protect my camera, after all.

Front gutters clear, Ma’am. A few peanut shells but otherwise good.

Now a little water to check the drainpipes.

I seriously do not think Homeboy *gets* that there’s no safety net below.  On the other hand, there’s always Cirque du Soleil if the first couple of career choices don’t work out.

Another high-wire potential.

Nope. He really doesn’t get it.

So now the water comes in to the final pipe, checking for clogs, waiting, waiting…

And success! A little dribbly at the start as some accumulation of muck and dried forest works its way out of the pipes but overall a successful venture on high.

And most importantly, no need for emergency medical intervention.

Place enough distractions on the walls and maybe you won’t notice the brass!

That’s certainly one school of interior design.

With the aid of a hammer, hanging hooks and the farm-girl biceps of my trusty sister-in-law, I played with light, colour, sentiment and balance and hung some pictures around the house, bringing the familiar to a new home.

Nothing nailed is ever permanent — that’s my motto du jour.

A Lawren Harris print, Yellow Sky & Blue Spruce. Picked it up at a fundraiser to protect the Oakridges Moraine. I like how it parallels the outdoor landscape.

A close-up is needed to do this print justice but I love its Asian flavour. Courtesy of my friend Mary who was raising funds for a Vietnamese health organization.

B.C. artist Tony Onley died a few years ago. Picked this up at a fundraiser back in my B.C. gov’t days. Again, a close-up is needed but I love the serene grays and taupes and as it’s a print of Montague Bay, Galiano Island, it’s akin to looking out the window.

I met Samir Sammoun at a gallery in Kleinberg. I love this pic — bright red poppies on a hillside in Lebanon. Reminds me of a visit I paid to my friend (another) Mary in Jordan.

The 10′ x 11′ tapestry by Joanna Staniszkis will hang on that vacant wall. I expect the tapestry reds and yellows to be picked up by those in the Sammoun’s painting.

Don’t know anything about this fellow, Bagslan. Picked up the painting at another Oakridges Moraine fundraiser.

Douglas Edwards is an Ontario artist who shows at a gallery in Kleinberg. We acquired this painting when we first moved to King Township — reminded us of the Manitoba interlake.

Backpacked this beauty home when I was travelling through China. Classic through-the-window view of bamboo — at least that’s how I understand its traditional composition.

My mother’s painting of Hecla Island (about two hours north of Winnipeg), a Steve Repa lady-in-red over by the kitchen, and poor Nikola Bjeljac waiting patiently by the stairs.

Another Bjeljac in the bedroom and a beautiful Ukrainian girl by Repa outside the study. A stuffed ocelot, sleeping bag and other paintings strewn on the floor.

And a couple more waiting for their moment of destiny with the hammer.

When I first looked at this house I was certain — certain! — I would not find enough room for paintings, with all that gosh-darn glass in the way.

There’s still a stash waiting but most of the faves are up and enjoyed.

Thanks for the help, Margaret!

Peculiar song that came out in the late 1960s.

In the summertime

when the weather is high

you can stretch right up

and touch the sky

*some verses later*

We go fishing or go swimming in the sea

We’re always happy

Life’s for living, yeah, that’s our philosophy.

Sing along with us

dee-dee-dee-dee-dee

Da-da-da-da-da-, yeah, we’re hap-happy

Oh, come on, now!

Why am I singing by myself?

Doesn’t anybody else know this song?

Mungo Jerry?

It’s a classic!

Anyway, had a happy weekend with my brother, his lovely bride and their beautiful daughters.

The beach, the sun, the water, the freedom — more than a few perfect summer moments.

What I heard wafting upstairs when the children were singing on their own was “Take Me Home, Country Roads.” John Denver.

John’s great, but he’s no Jerry Mungo.

Other favourite summertime songs you remember?

Or am I singing on my own again?