Of Crows, Moons, and Large Alien Eyeballs

Some would think the days pass slowly in Nod - especially for a hermit.

The winter days, yes, they are interminable...but the days of summer pass mercurially fast.

Many are spent counting crows.

One for sorrow, two for mirth;

Three for a wedding, four for death....

And the nights are spent with Sister Moon.

Every month for a lifetime, I have watched her blossom from a meek sliver into a round, ripe, melon in the sky.

But, lately, I have paid more attention to what a changeling she really is.

July 22nd:

July 24th:

July 26th:

July 27th:

July 29th:

One week... It slipped by so quickly...or perhaps that's what time does when one grows older.

For nights when the moon is shy and keeps to the clouds, I have a likeness of her in  my garden.

In her comment on my previous post, Marly of Samplers-and-Santas asked what the "large alien eyeball" was outside my dungeon window.

I explained that it is a gazing ball...atop of a concrete cat lying on its back, slowly being overtaken by rogue sedum, and promised her a photo.

The dungeon is in the basement and, therefore, the view from the dungeon window is at ground level.

But, yes, I do, indeed, see an alien eyeball.  🤣

Another day, and the moon will be full and a new month will be begin.

And so goes the rhythm of nature and time.

Goodbye July.

Sepia Sampler...and Other Things That Begin With "Ssss"

I am still struggling with the souls stranded on the Isle of the Unfinished, but have rescued one:  "Sepia Sampler," a design by Lori Brechlin of Notforgotten Farm, is now finally finished and framed.  (The frame is not as black as it appears in the photo - there are wonderful wood tones that reflect the sepia tones of the sampler colors.)

{Stitched 1 over 2 on 36ct "Wren" by Picture This Plus.}

The smoke from the Canadian wildfires has once again enveloped Nod.

Every morning, every evening and every hour in between is shrouded in haze.

{Smokebush and Echinacea...and wildfire smoke}

This round, the smoke seems particularly irritating to my eyes so I checked on the back gardens, then retreated to my dungeon.

{View from the dungeon}
 

It's not such a bad place to be considering the "babies" are now hatched and out and about.

You know...those other things that start with "ssss...."

Yes, that streak of red on the left of the photo below is a very forked tongue.

They are every bit as feisty as the adults.

If you don't hear from me in a few weeks, please tell someone to bring bread and water....

On second thought, hold the water...make it wine.

Yesterday's Roses

 

The days are slipping by while I am still standing still.  More than three weeks have passed since I last posted and I have little to show for the time, and even less to say.

So I thought I would show you yesterday's roses and a few other random photos.

 

We had one good rain a week ago, and that has been all. This is typically when our drought season starts but this year it has gotten a wicked head start.

Things have been hot and humid - the days smoke-filled and hazy from the wildfires. So, in some of the photos below, you may notice the gauziness of the skies in the background.

{Wisteria on Cornzebo}

{The teeny, tiny, house in Nod}

{Follow the red brick road....}

I continue to stitch a little - mostly on littles.  The Isle of the Unfinished, however, is becoming grossly overpopulated, so I have committed (🤣) to do better at final finishes.  

This is "Keeper of the Pins" by With Thy Needle & Thread.  I finished the stitching over a year ago, but now it is truly finished:

And this is "1864 Sampler House" by Chessie and Me:

Little Mia continues to grow.

And I continue to look up.

One never knows what one might see up there.

* * * * * * * * * * *

Happy July my friends - and Happy belated Canada Day to my friends across the border.

My Little Jungle

I have never been to a true and proper jungle. The closest I have come is a few hours in a tropical rain forest in Puerto Rico.

I never did see a monkey there, though, and that disappointed me.

(No, monkeys aren't native to Puerto Rico but in the 1950's, some escaped a lab and, well, now there are monkeys in Puerto Rico...you know, that "lab leak" thing.)

Anyway.

We skipped spring here in Nod and leapt directly into summer.

We have been unusually hot and unusually dry, at least for this early in the season.

But for someone who dwells in a land with 7+ months of winter, my complaining lips are duly and properly buttoned.

Come along for a peek at my little jungle here in Nod.

{House Wren hitching a ride on the witch's cat's head on the cornzebo's weathervane}

{Weeping Tina Crabapple}

{Magnolia and Rhododendron}

{False Indigo}

{Miss Kim Lilac}

{Lupines}

{Baltimore Oriole}

{House Wren residence outside my front door}

{Resting hummingbird}

I wish you could hear the cacophony that goes on at times in my little jungle.

I did not receive the family gene that enables me to tell one bird song (or even one bird by sight) from another, but Miss Marly of Samplers-and-Santas introduced me to the Merlin app and I feel like a blind person who can once again see.

These are some of the birds that have serenaded me in my jungle the past few days:

And no jungle would be complete without critters.

Some less desirable than others...

and far more plentiful...not only slithering on the ground but dropping out of trees and bushes.

Gah!

  

My little jungle desperately needs rain.  Several days the sky has darkened with promise, but it seems the promise always goes unfulfilled.

I realize I have not posted about any "projects" of late...I have done a little stitching - no hooking, no finishing though.  But for those of you who are gracious enough to follow me for those types of things, I promise I will update soon.

Longer Than I Can Remember

 It has been longer than I can remember...

...but I am finally back.

In some ways, it seems like a lifetime ago.

But the lake has waited.

The paths Snowdog and I walked have begun to grow over, receding into their natural wildness.

Life here has continued regardless of my presence or absence.

While many have moved on, some friends have remained faithful...

And some have been with me for longer than I can remember.

One Last Mother's Day Gift

 I mentioned that my mother passed away this past December.

However, all things weren't quite laid to rest then.

But let's start at the beginning.

I had a brother I never knew except from my mother's mentions of him.  His name was Keith. 

He was my parents' first child, born in the summer of 1949.

Things were very difficult in many ways back then and especially so for my parents.

When Keith was 7 months old, he died from pneumonia.

My mother carried the pain of that loss for all her years.

She, like many of that era, believed illnesses like pneumonia and colds were caused by getting cold and she frequently said that Keith would perhaps not have gotten sick had she had a proper blanket for him.

It was a statement we heard so often growing up that, one Mother's Day, my sister gifted my mother a baby blanket she crocheted for Keith.

My mother kept and treasured that blanket and, somehow, it found its way back to my sister when my mom went into assisted care and, when my mother passed, into her casket, along with a photo of Keith.

My mom had always said she wished that Keith would be buried with her when she died, but at least some of us were a bit surprised to learn that she also reduced that wish to writing and made it a formal part of her funeral arrangements.

It was bitter cold here in December when my mom died.  While the cemetery said they would be able to tent and warm the ground to inter my mother, they were hesitant about using that process to disinter Keith since he was buried in a simple wood box and they were concerned about damaging what remains there would be.

So, rather than interring my mother then and later disinterring her and Keith when the ground thawed, a difficult decision was made to have my mother's body held over at the funeral home until spring.

While spring was slow in its coming this year, it did eventually come....

...and, on Friday, Keith's remains were tucked into the blanket in my mother's casket and the two were finally laid to rest together next to my father.

 

One final Mother's Day gift, Mom.

Love you most.

The end. I win.

Magnolias on Monday

 

Happy Monday, Happy May.

The Magnolias are finally blooming.

They are such odd little things to me - putting out their beautiful blooms long before their leaves.

There is not much new here.  The days have been gray and gloomy.

{Rajah Roo}

I fear that soon that everyone here will soon melt into a morass of grayness.

I finally finished (?) hooking Early Bird (design by Lori Brechlin of Notforgotten Farm).

The question mark is there because I am not thrilled with my background hooking and the longer it sits about unbound, the more the urge to do some reverse hooking takes hold.

We'll see.  For now, it is keeping the other unbound rugs company on my table. 

I have also made progress on "Sepia Sampler," another design by Lori from Notforgotten Farm. 

For some reason, this has been a really soothing stitch - except that border.  Believe it or not, the stems are a different color than the leaves on the "clover" (at least they look like clovers to me) so there is a great deal of starts and stops.  I probably should have changed out one of the colors so the difference was more noticeable, but it's too late now.

And I'm not certain why I'm bothering to tell you this since the colors are not showing properly on the photo.

Have I mentioned it's gray and gloomy here?

*************

In the reading department, this is one I finished a few months back already.

I had enjoyed another book by this author, Anxious People, which I mentioned in this post so, of course, I had to read another by him.

Like Anxious People, this book does not fall within the genre to which I generally gravitate.  It is quirky and different and, again, I find the author's wry humor irresistible.

It is the story of young Elsa, whose grandmother is, well, nuts.

When Elsa's grandmother dies, Elsa is charged with tracking down people her grandmother has wronged in her life and apologizing to them.

It turns into an adventure of fairy tales and imaginary kingdoms and all-too-real heartbreak.

And like any good fairy tale, there is a lot of wisdom packed inside if you're open to finding it.

It's about grief, forgiveness and, most of all, embracing being different - something some of us can relate to too well.

*************

Well, I'm off to get some bread in the oven.  After a week of thinking I need to break my hermitage and get some groceries, I decided it's easier to bake.

Here's hoping your Monday has some Magnolias and fairy tales in it.