Applesauce!

Ordered a bushel of Ginger Gold apples from Warwick Orchards. I tried them for the first time last year, and while they're a bit soft and mealy for dehydrating, they're perfect for applesauce. No sugar or anything required. They turn a lovely pinkish colour when you process them. I leave mine a little chunky instead of totally smooth, and minus the cost of the lids, they're just over half the cost of store-bought pints of applesauce.

A friend is going to come over so we can do apples together. She is leaning toward jelly and apple butter, and I conveniently own a steam juicer that makes jelly much easier.

I love this time of year. Huge tractors thundering down the road like some kind of Transformers. The golden fields. The V of geese against the silver sky. Tucking in, storing up, squirreling away. Making the switch from cucumber salads to potato soups. This year instead of storing zucchini in the freezer, I'm making it into bread first and freezing that, so it's ready to eat. I also make the same recipe with pumpkin or butternut squash. With a handful of hickory nuts thrown in, there's nothing better.

Here's to autumn! My favourite season.

The Joy of Small Accomplishments

Life will sometimes reach an occasional plateau. Periods of feverish activity are followed by doldrums where nothing much happens. Sometimes this is good, because it gives you time to recuperate and regroup. But sometimes those stretches of inactivity extend so long that the whole project is derailed.

We'd reached this point with the church renovations. Four years of frenetic work was followed by a year of nothing much being accomplished as we let the bank account (and our bodies) rest and recover. But lately we've discovered we've become used to the construction debris and had adapted to living around it. The same pile of damaged wood trim remained in the same spot, and we were merely living around it, as if it was a permanent fixture. There was the possibility that we'd grow so used to it, we'd stop seeing it. Recuperation was threatening to become inertia.

So...this week we decided to tackle just a couple of small, bite-sized projects, so that we could see some progress. We had kept a big, heavy cupboard that was left in the old laundry room. It's metal lined, with mesh shelves, and weighs a ton. It's been on its side, acting as both an island and a roadblock, for five years, but we've talked about turning it into a cheese-curing cupboard. This week we finally bought some wheels, reinforced the bottom, and got it standing upright and moveable (and out of the way). Relief! The whole room looks huge now.

We spent a day cutting out styrofoam to block the upstairs windows when we're away (heat block in summer, insulation in winter). It's an inelegant solution and won't be permanent, but it works for now.

We bought some trim to finish off the windowsills in the basement (not installed yet, but ready to tackle on our next trip up). 

We finally framed the Ikea print we bought four years ago, and now it's on the bedroom wall and looks amazing. Turns out the colours are perfect.

And last night we dragged out the damaged trim that goes in the front stairwell, set it in place, and spent half an hour debating how to restore it. Again, not completed, but in place and ready to tackle on another trip.  

It may not seem like much got accomplished, but the barrier has been breached and creativity is flowing again. Sometimes you just need to start, to spend that five minutes getting going again, to break through the inertia. When a project looks too big to tackle, pick one small piece of it to focus on. Tell yourself you're allowed to stop after that initial step. You may find you can keep going once the momentum kicks in, or you may allow yourself to stop after that step, and either one is okay. It's progress, and no one says you have to sprint to the finish line. And sometimes there may not be a finish line, because it's all about the journey, and that's okay too.

Finally, a Break in the Heat!

The heat wave of the past couple of weeks has finally broken, and I feel human again. The delicate air at sunrise, the drop in humidity---ahhh! Yesterday was spent mowing, and today will be spent weed whacking, but hoping Friday to go to Lake Huron for a stroll. I love to walk with no particular destination in mind, exploring as I go. The path along the lake in Bright's Grove is especially pleasant. There's something about looking out over that vast expanse of water, feeling the breeze on my face, that is delicious to me. Well, that and the corn dogs at the food truck that's always parked nearby...

Here are the photos of the new kitchen furnishings

Now all we need is a floor!

It's Always About Water!

We have had nothing but water issues with this church. Leaking foundations, leaking roof, leaking water heater, flood door installation, water under the front stairs---you name it, it's gone wrong and it's always to do with water. We fix things and they either don't stay fixed or there's yet another problem that arises somewhere else. This week it's the dehumidifier again. We got a brand new one five years ago, replaced it entirely a few months ago, and now it's leaking yet again. And this isn't a Canadian Tire sort of dehumidifier, mind you, it's a whole-building one that's practically the size of a chest freezer. And of course Hayters, who installed it (twice) has gone out of business. As temperatures rise, humidity soars, and I'm worried about all the books going moldy and the wood floor warping and...

Just once I'd like to fix something and then stop having to pay attention to it. There are days, I admit, that I want to sell everything I own and run screaming into the night.

A trip to the nursery

 A friend invited me along to go buy some hazelnut trees with her and her daughters. I'm always up for an adventure! We drove to Windover Nurseries, a fascinating place I hadn't heard of before. Established in 1918, the nursery has been at that location since 1945. I knew the minute we arrived that there would be cool stuff to see and varieties of plants that most garden centres don't carry. 

The majority of the property was filled with potted trees of all kinds, including natives and Carolinian varieties (see my book The Garden Plot---Carolinian forests are an interest of mine). Sourgums and Tulip Trees and Paw Paws and Shagbark Hickory. Azaleas in lipstick colours, corkscrew hazels, Ninebark, and butterfly bushes. There was an interesting shop with lawn ornaments and ceramic pots, with a back room where the bare-root trees were kept. Stepping into the shop was like stepping into my grandpa's shed, that damp wood smell I can't really describe but that defined his home, and I was instantly transported to my childhood. Lovely!

To one side of the shop, there's a memorial garden planted with natives, commemorating the original founder of the nursery. I puttered there for a bit while my friend and her kids went exploring, as the back part of the property was mostly mud and I was woefully unprepared in my tennis shoes, while they had galoshes. Note to self for next time: adventures with Erin usually require boots.

There were several greenhouses, the opaque plastic cracking in the wind, filled with flowers. An elusive cinnamon scent rose in one of them, but even though we stuck our noses into everything, we never did trace it to its origin. Artemisia, coneflowers of all colours, herbs, scented geranium. My friend's daughter bought a packet of alyssum to take home, a sweet, contented smile lighting her face as she chose it and carried it to the register. It was a warming thing, that simple flowers could cause that kind of quiet joy. 

My friend folded two hazelnut trees into her trunk and we were off, but I'll definitely be back. It's a beautiful corner of the earth worth revisiting.

Windover Nurseries, Inc. Petrolia

Absolute Decadence

I expected my husband to arrive this week, but he has been delayed in the city, giving me another week (or possibly two) on my own. Other than some vacuuming and laundry, I have been absolutely lazy. Popcorn, watching movies, reading, working on stained glass, crocheting, writing, taking long walks, baking cornbread. I noticed the Little Free Library at the conservation area was looking sparse, so I took up two grocery bags of books to stock it up a bit for the start of summer. Today I'm having a book sale here at the church. I might make myself set up a folding table outside to start sanding down some shelves, if the weather cooperates. I guess, looking back at this paragraph, that I have been busy, not lazy, but I'm not sure that my activities have contributed anything to the universe.

There have been times my husband and I have considered downsizing to a condo, but I think, on the whole, it wouldn't give me enough to do. I miss working in my yard, weeding my garden. I have a need for physical activity that mere walking doesn't meet. A week (or possibly two) of this is a welcome luxury, but any longer and I would start to feel antsy. It would help if I had access to a car here, but really, it isn't about filling in time. I want to accomplish something. Be of use. Be of service.