Pioneer Cemetery

I pass this on my rambles with Brio. One day I will take paper and pen with me so I can write down the names and see if any of them are people from our stained glass windows. A restful spot by the lake, and well tended.
 

The perfect home office

Yesterday my husband helped me haul two folding tables out to the side lawn. I set one up in the hot sun and put a part of a stained glass window on it to warm, covered in a dark blanket. As the lead heated and softened, I added gradual weight to start flattening it out. The other table I set up under a shady maple tree, in the cool, and worked on the next piece of window, freeing it from its wooden frame with hammer and chisel. Hubby even brought the vacuum out for me, on an extension cord, so I could be tidy about it. And he brought me a Fresca, which is the best pop on the planet. 

Brio curled up at my feet in contentment and dozed. Neighbours came out into their yards to work on their own projects -- gardening, potting flowers, painting fences. One woman was using a blowtorch to darken the wood for what looked like raised garden beds she's building. Friendly nods of acknowledgement, but each engrossed in her own thing. A local dog came over to check out what was on the table -- no food -- and wandered off again. I worked out there for a few hours, and it was absolutely lovely. The only reason I stopped was because the light was fading and the mosquitoes were coming out.

I wish I could spend every day like this.

Playing in God's Bathtub

Our daughter-in-law told us about a nearby beach, so we went to explore this lovely place the other day when I finished work for the day. The stay-at-home order has been extended to June 2, but we're allowed to leave our homes for outdoor exercise. Stretches of empty, fine, camel-coloured sand. A few children splashing and running wild, and dogs delirious with joy as they bounced through the waves. The water stays shallow for quite a way out, so it's perfect for paddling. The sun was hot, the breeze delicious, the sky vivid. That undefinable scent of water. And lucky me, to be here! Life couldn't be better. I don't even care if we don't get to Hawaii as planned in September. This will more than do.

More Kindness!

We have ordered a lawnmower, but it won't be ready for curbside pick-up until next week. Meanwhile, the damp weather had resulted in a lush green lawn that was rapidly becoming too long to cut. And then this afternoon when I was out with Brio, the fellow who manages the townhouses next door was out with his dog and said hello, and we got to chatting while the dogs bounced and growled and decided whether they were friends or foes (looks like friends). 

I mentioned apologetically that I was going to get around to mowing as soon as I could get my mower -- it's a bit embarrassing, as lawns here seem rather competitively well maintained -- and my very nice neighbour offered to mow the lawn for me today so that it will be more manageable to mow next week. Isn't that the kindest thing? I am surrounded by such lovely people here. I made him and his family cookies as a thank you. Turns out he is the father of the great kid I've observed next door---and he himself referred to his son as Huck Finn. Isn't that fun?

A Common Gathering Place

A woman walking by with her children last night stopped to comment on the new round window. She approved, and she told my husband she had thought this was still a church. She didn't know it was now privately owned. She was interested in coming in to take a peek at the stained glass windows, but she'll come do that another time, minus children and rain. She moved to this area a while ago and likes it here a lot.

Then she said something that got me to thinking. She knows of a neighbour who is really into local history. My husband asked if she meant Mary and Paul, the local history experts I know. But she said she didn't know them. She meant someone else.

This sort of set me aback, because to my mind, if you live in a village this size, it seems you should know everyone. Mary and Paul live only two blocks from this woman. When I was growing up, I knew every single occupant of every home in my neighbourhood (though at the time, I would have spelled it neighborhood, as I was in the States!). But then I got to thinking: I only knew all those people because we went to the same church. Once this church we own closed down, this village lost its common gathering space. Where else were neighbours to meet and get to know each other? There are no other stores here but the gas station. There is nothing going on at the community centre. Unless someone makes a point of organizing a village ball game or potluck in the park, there really isn't anything going on. You only get to meet your immediate neighbours.

It drove home to me how important a church is to a community, and Warwick doesn't have any functioning church now. I feel a sense of responsibility to get this place up and running again as soon as Covid allows it -- Mom and Tot groups, Sit and Knit groups, free movie nights, Osteofit classes, yoga, little concerts, dances. To bring people together and forge a sense of commonality. To let neighbours become friends. This building was made to bring people together, and I want it to do that again.

The Eye of Horus has been Replaced

1939 window:

Today:

New window:

(pardon the fingers)

I know it was a complicated and tricky custom build. Thank you to Matthew and Craig (and Mike!) from Stephenson Home Improvements, Strathroy, for their professional, careful, and speedy work in spite of the rain! It makes a fantastic difference, being able to see out and open up to fresh air. 

Blossom time has arrived!

 A neighbour has ten lovely crabapple trees. I'm going to ask if I can make jelly from them. People here don't seem to use their crabapples, and you can't find any commercially-made jelly.

Warwick Orchards -- fruit trees just getting ready to bloom, and a lot of blueberries, raspberries, etc: