Come Into the Garden, Maud - V

The clematis at the side of the family room has always been a heavy bloomer but the one on the deck has never once had so much as a bud. I hadn't realized they could be so temperamental.


Four years ago the honeysuckle vine was a pathetic twig but this year has been its most spectacular - sort of imagine it in the next few years surrounding the door.

For the first time neither of the peonies has a single bloom; by this time they should have been loaded down with ants, a few sticky buds and gigantic pink-white blooms. Maybe I should have divided them last fall?

Come Into the Garden, Maud - IV

I have absolutely no idea what these flowers are. They are dotted throughout the garden and bloom for a week or two.


They are quite lovely and in full bloom first thing in the morning when the sun hits them, but....

... towards sunset they close up and become this little pea pods.

Just wondering if anyone knows what they are; Lynette I can normally count on you to refresh my fading memory on things floral.

Memories - Father's Day

Tater doesn't update everyday but when he does it is always incredibly well written and filled with an understanding of the people and events in his life. His most recent essay is a beautiful memory piece.

Would That I Could Have

I spent 33 years of my life working with Air Canada - 15 of them at an airport either toiling on or training people for the front lines.

Fifteen years of:

• having my birthright called into question because the plane would not/could not take off in pea-soup fog or a blinding snowstorm
• having my IQ level publicly and loudly downgraded to a figure in the minus column because seven pieces of carry-on luggage had been allowed at every other airport in the world
• having my sexuality thrown in my face because some business man couldn't get a window seat (Yes, he called me a "faggot"; and the only response I could think of was: You'd be a better judge of that than I sir. Which he was too stupid to realize meant: Takes one to know one!)

I only wish at one point I had had the guts to follow the example of these intrepid canines at Bangkok International Airport. No doubt it would have got me fired but damn there were days when it would have been worth it.

Come into the garden, Maud - III

These Japanese Iris were part of Fred and Lori's purple-blue design. Again because I didn't split them last fall they are not blooming as profusely as in previous years.

This thistle sprang up early in the spring amongst the ferns and hostas by the house. I should have pulled it up then and now that it's grown I'm rather fond of it. So, like the random strawberry plants and the odd raspberry cane it will stay for now.

And speaking of strawberry plants I find this a rather attractive edging for the deck. Who knows I may even get a few berries for my cereal one morning.

The Reesie Report - II

Just a quick update on Reese: he's coming along, taking his anti-inflammatory medication, his antibiotics [unless he can carefully isolated it from its hiding place and delicately spit it on the floor] and behaving himself as always.

He's back to playing some of his favorite games such as:

• here I lie abandoned; no one loves me, cares for me or pats me
• that food doesn't really look very attractive in that blue dish perhaps if you hold it in your hand it'll be more appetizing [my mother was right presentation is everything]
• if I whimpering pathetically and look towards the kitchen my dinner will be served earlier

Thanks to everyone for your thoughts, wishes, prayers and concern. You're an incredible group of people.

PS: Lynette, two things: How's dad doing? and what's billy up to?

Finita la comedia

The Sybil of Opera in Italy has been slapped with a cease and desist order from the temple where, if there was anyone sensible in charge, she should be, if not high-priestess at least in charge of publicity.

Earlier this week legal council for La Scala instructed Opera Chic to remove her logo (a fun spin on their rather dull coat of arms) from her blog. She was also directed to remove all photos taken inside the theatre. Though within their legal rights its rather pathetic that no one at Italy's premier opera house recognizes the great - free - publicity she gives them. She writes with wit, charm, knowledge and a deep love of the place and music; and she makes going to La Scala sound like the major event it should be. Her piece on the upcoming season was certainly more exciting than what was posted on the official site - where by the way some of the money spent on legal council could have been directed to hiring an English proof reader.

Fortunately no group of dark-suited Milanese lawyers can keep a feisty New York babe down. OC (Opera Chic not Orange County) will continue to give us her pronouncements on things musical and operatical under a new - and frankly imho hotter - logo.

By the way that is not OC in front of La Scala in that picture - she is younger, hotter and far more stylish. Also note I did not include a link to La Scala - just to punish the bastards!

The Reesie Report - Addendum

And just to prove that though he's scared the crap out of papa for the past two days he's still capable of giving him that "You Bastard, you don't love me! You won't share your grapes with a poor starving puppie!"

I relented - he got a .... okay a few grapes.

The Reesie Report

Things didn't go too bad at the vet; much of what is happening with Reesie is because he's an old dog and because he was paralyzed and had major back surgery. He never did regain total use of the one back leg and there is always the danger of atrophy or further spinal cord rupture. When he starts stumbling and refusing to walk the way he did the past few days I must admit I panic. I saw his sister go that way and it meant more surgery which at his age he just couldn't handle.

Our vet - thank god old-style country vets still exist - hit on the problem within minutes. The poor old Reeserman had very badly impacted anal glands - something his sister had all the time but this is new with him. It was causing him pain - therefore the constant low whimpering - which combined with the limited mobility that he has had since the back operation created the problems with his back legs.

Within minutes of Dr Varney doing what he had to do - I won't go into it here - he seemed to be better if highly offended by the procedure. I've been told to watch him carefully for the next day or two - like I don't do that anyway - just in case. And we'll hold off on the Rabies and micro-chip - not sure about Reesie but the 14 gauge needle scared the hell out of me.

Thanks to all you sweet wonderful dog-people out here - lynette and tater especially - I'm glad I'm not the only one that panics when my best bud turns poorly.

Reesie

I would not normally put up a post like this - mostly because I don't like to scare Laurent who is so far away and feels so helpless when situations occur here at home. But his old MAC gave up the ghost earlier this week so I am taking a chance that given the time difference etc. he won't see this.

Reesie is scheduled to go to the vets this afternoon to get his rabies shot and micro-chipped for the move, however a few things have been going on the past few days with him that may need more immediate attention. I won't go into it in any depth but I am concerned for my little buddy, he isn't well. I know he's old - 13 going on 14 - he's had major back surgery and there have always been health problems but things have been happening the past few days that scare me.

We'll see what our Vet - the old-style country type - says tonight - being Irish I always prepare for the worst but hope for the best. My blog mama lynnette has been going through a time with one of her pups but I'm glad to say things seem to be working out. Hope for the same for my best bud.

Come Into the Garden, Maud - II (contd)

I'm intrigued by the cluster of tubes, the lily-pad-like leaves around the flowers and the oval-shaped leaves on the rest of the vine. I find the whole combination fascinating.

Come Into the Garden, Maud - II

I mentioned on the weekend that the honeysuckle vine would become a show of orange flowers and by Sunday afternoon it certainly had. The computer desk is beside the door and I've been blogging to a background of the buzz of honey bees and the odd bass drone of a fat bumblebee.

Come Into the Garden, Maud* - I

When we first arrived at the house there was only two stalks of columbines - now they have self-seeded and are scattered around the yard. They just seem to pop-up anywhere - which is fine with me.

*Come into the garden, Maud,
For the black bat, night, has flown,
Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone ;
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad,
And the musk of the rose is blown.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson - 1895

I'm Going to Chuck Some Wood Alright!

I don't remember the name of this little beauty if, indeed, I ever knew it. It starts out as a small green pine cone-like bud and then flowers into this blue star burst with feather-like petals. It is really quite lovely and I had at least twenty in one area of the yard.

You will notice the use of the past tense. I came out to do the morning inspection yesterday and found:

One single bud was left and there may be one struggling to break out. All the other stems had been sheared off. The same thing had happened to my Butterfly flower by the side of the house.

And the cause would be:

This well-fed, furry little bastard is one of two groundhogs (woodchucks) we have sharing our backyard. One lives under the shed and the other under the deck. Up to now we have all cohabited without major incident - though there has been the odd territorial squabble within the rodent community. This is the first time they have ever inflicted any sort of damage on the garden. The lawn is over-planted with clover - a great alternative to grass and grub-resistant (you're gardening tip for today)- and I thought they were happy munching that.

Now comes the question: What to do about the little buggers?

Opera at the Baths

And I'm not referring to the night Eleanor Steber played the Continental!

People who know me well were placing bets on how soon after our arrival I'd be dragging poor long-suffering Laurent off to our first opera. Well we arrive on Monday July 30 at 0800 and should be taking our seats at the Thermes de Caracalla on Friday August 3 at 2100. That's a good 109 hours after our arrival, quite long enough in my opinion.

I booked tickets at Charta On-line for a performance of Puccini's Turandot. I'm not sure I'll be doing that too often, there was a surcharge of 14 euros ($28.00) per ticket for "Internet service" so I may just stand in line at the box office when I want tickets for anything else, maybe even stopping for a leisurely "ombre" at a local cafe on my way back home.

Every summer the Teatro dell'Opera di Roma present opera and ballet amidst the spectacular ruins of the old Baths. The biggy is always Aida with horses, elephants - and I am told one year a giraffe - though what they have to do with poor Aida pining for her Patria by the Nile I'm not sure. These days the singers are often not the big divas and divos but its really more about the spectacle, a warm Roman summer night and the setting.

I've been told that this production of Turandot is unusual in that we don't get the entire population of China decked out in courtly splendor screaming for Calaf's head. Apparently it is more intimate though its hard to imagine intimate at Caracalla. I'm looking forward to it.

While looking on YouTube for videos of Caracalla I came across this newsreel footage of an opening night Aida at Caracalla in 1962. Stella, Simonato, Bergonzi - big operatic names at the time, were performing and the audience was filled with B-grade celebrities of the day.



It gives you an idea of the size of the stage and the spectacle. And that announcer cracks me up - he must be going for a speed record.

Further Out of Apathy

This past week our beloved Prime Minster Stephen Harper, continued his "I'm more a patriot and more Canadian than you are" grandstanding. According to old Snake Eyes - come on now look at those eyes and tell me those don't remind you of the stars of Snakes On A Plane - if you haven't served in the military then you can't criticize his Minister of Defence. Also if you've lived and worked outside Canada you're not a patriotic Canadian. And he equates support of Canada's involvement in Afghanistan with loyalty to Canada and support of our Military. I can't imagine where he picked the idea up? Any suggestions from my American friends?

Well I question his Minister of Defense when the families of soldiers who were killed in Afghanistan are not reimbursed the cost of funerals. And I lived and worked overseas for the Department of National Defense and the Canadian Embassy when I was a diplomatic spouse in Poland. And I have difficulty with our current role in Afghanistan - though I fully support the women and men of our under-paid, under-equipped and under-staffed Armed Forces.

So according to Mr. Harper's standards I am both un-patriotic and un-Canadian. My only response to Snake Eyes would have to be the old Pierre Elliott Trudeau one-fingered salute.

Notice once again I did not provide a link to any biographical information for Mr Harper - the Wikipdia entry is obviously the work of a Conservative Party PR firm. Now if they can only rewrite the history books the same way things will be Right - excuse the pun.

Spring Has Sprung - VII

I've been neglecting the garden lately - no in reality but virtually i.e. I haven't posted any recent shots of what's been flourishing in the back yard. Lori and Fred - the previous owners - worked hard to create a typical English garden with something in bloom from early spring to the autumn. Working with shades of green and purple, blue and yellow perennials and the odd splash of red or orange they gave us something that I have enjoyed over the past four years. Hopefully the new owners will find as much pleasure in it as we did.

In the next day or two this honeysuckle vine will be a mass of orange flowers and the hummingbirds should be around dipping into the tubes. Oddly it has no scent - I thought honeysuckle always had a perfume.

The ostrich ferns pretty much take over the back fence and are a great background for the bed of hosta, day lilies, periwinkle and bishop's scourge

In other years this bed of lemon-scented geraniums was a mass of purple-pink blooms but I didn't divide it last fall. The scent is still incredible on a warm summer night.

This old honeysuckle bush definitely has a scent and last night after a wild thunderstorm it radiated through the garden.

I always love the iris beds we had around the house when I was a kid - here I have these beautiful purple ones, some yellow that are just coming into bud and Japanese iris that will bloom in the next few weeks.

Video - Women in Western Art

A beautiful piece of video art created by Eggman913 - with the help of a few of the renowned - and not so well-known - artists of the past 500 years. And his Picasso and Civil War videos are exceptional pieces of video, you might want to check them out on YouTube.

Wish I knew what the cello piece is!

Et Tu? Reesie!

Rather than slap me against the side of the head - which I deserve for forgetting to mention it - in that sweet gentle southern manner of hers, lynette reminded me that I hadn't said anything about the most important man coming to Rome: Reese.

Yes the Reeser Man is coming with us, if he couldn't go I wouldn't go - simple as that.

In the way of special handling he has to:

• be mircochiped
• have up-to-date rabies shots
• be given a clean bill of health by a Canadian Vet

There is no quarantine requirement - that only applies to places like the UK, Australia, the Caribbean - so he can enter Italy with us. And friends at the Embassy have recommended a good vet to look after him once we're there.

Airlines no longer allow pets in the cabin - I can understand the reasons though I don't like it - so Reesie will be going as checked baggage. I've explain to him that its actually Canine Class and its a very special cabin all his own. Working with the airlines taught me that the last thing to do is give him a tranquillizer - those things have a stronger effect because of the altitude; more animals die of over-doses on flights than you'd think. The best thing to do - and no this isn't a fetish thing - is to put a pair of sock or underwear that you've worn in their kennel. The smell of someone they know comforts them.

This will be his second trip to Europe - and given his age probably his last. He's fairly well-travelled. He got us in Crystal Lake, Illinois when we lived in Chicago. We realize now that the kennel - though AKK registered - was a puppy mill and many of his health problems stem from over breding. Be that as it may he's still my best bud and one of the gentlest creatures on God's earth. He has been with us on moves back to Ottawa, down to Montreal (five times), over to Warsaw, back to Ottawa-Aylmer and now onward to Roma. He should have frequent flyer points.

Ghosts

Two of my favorite bloggers - Tater and my blog mama lynette - talk about ghosts and memories.

Tater writes - as only he can - about the ghosts in the attic.

lynette chronicles her search for family memories and ghosts this past weekend. And being lynette she kept us in suspense through not one, not two , not three but four postings. And there were a few of us going to give her such as slap after posting number three.

Speaking of the supernatural, I just went over to Big Ass Belle to check the urls for the links and lynette has linked to Tater too (gosh that sounds cute) and my most recent post about Rome. Coincidence or the para-normal at work? Scary stuff kids.

Fantastic Fotos

It's probably just my imagination but it seems that Aaron over at Meanwhile goes on vacation at least once a month. Aside from being envious of his travels I also envy his incredible eye for what makes great photography.

This past week he was in Venice and Ljubljana and a click on the photo above (one of the most incredible night shots I've ever seen of Venice) will take you to seven days worth of great pictures.

And now that I've found out the Ljubljana is only 4 hours from Venice by train, I've added another destination to the growing list for the next four years.

Quo Vadis?

Well its been confirmed, much like St Peter we're vadising to Rome - though with no intention of being martyred. Mind you there are probably a few things there that could kill us: the pollution, the crazy drivers or the high cost of living.

My blog "momma" lynette (Big Ass Belle) has asked: What's with Rome? When are you going? Why are you going? What's the story? Such an enquiring mind!

When are you going?
Well that handy little countdown at the right says it all - I was going to include milliseconds but thought that was a bit of overkill.

What's the story?
For 25 of the 29 years we've been together Laurent's been in the Canadian Foreign Service (Diplomatic Corps.) He's been posted to Mexico City, Cairo, Chicago, Amman, Warsaw and currently Beijing. Until 1999 I remained - like Penelope at her loom - back in the old Patria. Then, after 33 years at Air Canada, I packed it in and joined him in Poland. At all the other posts I've was there as often as I could be - working for an airline helped a lot.

In 2001 we came back to Canada; I landed a job with the Federal Government; we bought a beautiful heritage home in a small town near Ottawa and settled into a fairly normal life. Then three years ago he was offered Beijing - we knew that I could not join him but decided that for various reasons we would live with it. Well we have lived with it - and haven't enjoyed it. We've decided enough is enough - time we started living together again.

Why Rome?
When posting request time came Laurent put in for three cities that we knew would not create any problems for us as a family; being the Foreign Service none of those choices where offered.

Instead they came up with:

New Delhi - Don't think so! Given the homophobic attitude in India I have a feeling our little family unit would be less than welcome.

Moscow - Strangely enough I would have had full diplomatic status - who would have thought? And we've never been to Russia and it could be fascinating. However cost of living, living conditions and security were major concerns.

Rome - Need I say this was the most appealing! We both love Italy and Laurent is sure that he was an Emperor in another life. Problem is that Italy does not recognize same-sex or common-law relationships for diplomatic status. There were various suggestions - including the time-honored tradition of me entering as a member of Laurent's household staff (yeah right!), my true station in life confirmed by the Italian Government.

Solution - I hold an Irish (EU) passport under dual-citizenship and that allows me to move pretty freely within the European Union. Mind you I've received three different versions of what to do when I enter Italy - the Mediterranean confusion starts already!

How long will we be there?
The normal post length depends on the country and the hardship level. As an example Beijing is normally two years while a place like Rome is four. So, if things go according to plan, we should be in Rome until summer of 2011.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

According to a recent report from Statistics Canada men are more likely to suffer depression after a divorce than women. This soundly supports the theory that women are stronger then men – something I’ve never disputed.

The study began in 1994, before Same-Sex Marriage became legal in Canada (2003), and it’s based on statistics from straight couples only. Guess they’ll have to start again with same-sex couples.

Now that could produce an interesting set of statistics. As an example, in gender-defined relationships will the butch one be more depressed than the femme one when they split up. Or in a lesbian relationship will both parties simply move on while in a gay one both guys will become depressed, weepy and a burden to their friends who will have to listen endless repetitions of “I gave him the best week of my – sob - life!”

Hmmm… may have answered my own question right there.

Okay I may be taking this Rome thing a little to excess with Sedaka singing Breaking Up Is Hard To Do in Italian but.....

Nostalgia - Victoria Day

There was a time in this fair land when Victoria Day - the 24th of May - was a big celebration - at least in English Canada. We celebrated the reigning Monarch's birthday, commemorated Queen Victoria's birthday, cried hip-hooray for the British Empire and trumpeted our British heritage. It was all very WASP, all very jingoistic. A celebration of an Empire that was fading away.

On the Saturday cottages were opened for the summer and preparations made for the weekends events. On Sunday, after a suitably solemn service of Morning Prayer with special anthem, family and friends gathered for the first picnic of the year. We proudly strung Union Jacks and Red Ensigns from house to tree, ate our hot dogs (though my mother frowned on that - you never knew what they put in those things!), drank our lemonade and when it finally got dark lit our fireworks. The Burning School House was a great favorite but I particularly loved the fairy light fascination of the sparklers - shades of things to come?

On the Monday a street parade formed up at Horner Public School and marched the four blocks over to the Alderwood Community Park. Lead by the local scout troop (my brother proudly carrying the Union Jack), The Maple Leaf Forever blaring from a tinny speaker mounted on an old Ford pick-up, the Girl Guides giggling and waving their Union Jacks, followed by a throng of costumed kids with decorated bikes, trikes and wagons. The rearguard was brought up by the Alderwood Volunteer Fire Brigade truck the blast of its horn scaring the smaller kids who were lagging behind.

There were prizes for the best decorated bike - guaranteed if you used Union Jacks, a picture of the King or Queen or red, white and blue streamers you'd win some sort of prize. There was a prayer from the local Anglican minister asking a blessing on the Monarch and their loyal Dominion of Canada, speechs from our MPP and Alderman and God Save the Queen shrilly led by the public school choir and rousingly sung by one and all. Later that night was the "big" fireworks display - 15 or 20 rockets donated by the Hands Fireworks Co., some Catherine Wheels and more sparklers for all the kids.

Like the Empire we celebrated back then most of the May 24th traditions have faded away. It's now just the first long weekend of the summer. This past few days people opened their cottages and there were BBQs and picnics, but there were no parades and I haven't heard a single firework all evening. Sure there's fireworks on Canada Day, July 1st but I always thought how lucky I was back then: I had two chances to burn that old schoolhouse.

I think the picture at the top of the page dates from 1949 and that fine looking pair of gentlemen at the left are my father Ab (Albert) and me (notice that damned tuft of hair again.) The lady behind us is my beloved Aunt Lil. Until the day she died she kept her Belfast accent and she was the only one who could get away with calling me Billy when I became an adult. The way she said it was musical.

CPP* Day - Let the Excitement Begin!

Who would have thought that 60 years and a bit after this photo was taken (don't you just love the antimacassar - Isabel, my mother, crotchet it between changing my diapers) this adorable infant would be applying for his Canada Pension.

The middle of last week, with trembling hand, amidst the chuckles of my young co-workers - damn I remember the day one of them was born - and the cheers of my fellow sexagenarians (and no that ain't a dirty word,) I submitted my electronic application. Starting August I can join the stampede of seniors to their mail boxes on the first of the month - though I won't be heading to Timmy's to compare tax deductions afterwards. Guess I'll just have to spend mine on some of those marrons glacés that Opera Chic was talking about the other day.

* Canada Pension Plan - I've been contributing to it since my first job back in 1966; my first contribution was $58.59 for the year. If I recall my take-home pay that year was around $7000.00

Out Of Apathy

I don't normally post anything on political matters. It's not that I'm not a political animal it's just that after all of these years I've become disillusioned with politics or more particularly politicians. However one more week like this past one on Parliament Hill and I may be dragged out of my apathy and turned into a raving political activist.

Though I won't go as far as to say the current Conservative minority government is a swindling bunch of crooks any more than their predecessors where or that Prime Minister Stephen Harper is a cold calculating bastard with a hidden agenda, those thoughts have been popping into my head unbidden.

This week alone we have seen some interesting example of our "New Government" at work :

• A conservative member of Parliament [MP] strode across the floor, a parliamentary no-no, and shoved a liberal MP - a real big parliamentary no-no. And where the hell were the Sargeant-at-Arms and Speaker during all this?


• Non government organizations who depend on federal funding to employ summer students have found that funding cut or refused. The minister in charge says he has a list of worthy organizations that will receive funding but refuses to release it.


• The Executive Assistant of the Conservative leader in the Senate leaked false information accusing opposition Senators of cheating on travel expenses. Both the Senator and the EA have refused to apologize and the EA has been given a promotion.


• A 200 page handbook detailing how to stall parliamentary committees and filibuster during debate has been distributed to select Conservative MPs. Its instructions have been followed on at least three occasions this past week causing parliamentary gridlock. All the while the "New Government" - and they insist on being called that even though they've been in power for over a year - has been blaming the opposition for the situation.


• The Prime Minister is using parliamentary privilege to indefinitely delay giving a deposition in a defamation suit launched by a longtime Conservative party member.

So much for "Canada's New Government" and its commitment to openness, transparency and high ethical and moral behavior. O Canada - who stands on guard for thee? Damn if this keeps up it may have to be me.

Some of this may sound familiar to my American friends - Mr Harper has expressed his undying admiration for George W. Enough said.

Opera Chic's Milan

As well as her quirky and ultra-hawt postings on opera, Opera Chic (I'm a young American woman in Milan.... and you're not. I go to La Scala alot.... and you don't) has taken to giving us insights into her fabulous life in Milan... where we're sadly not!

Today (May 18th) she's highlighted a few of her favorite spots - other than La Scala... where we're sadly not! - in and around the Duomo. I can almost taste those marron glacé and damn it the minute we get settled in Rome I'm heading up north to do exactly that - and maybe, just maybe catch a performance at La Scala.

Under MilkWood -

I had just completed a 400 word post with links etc under the above title using Blogger's new auto save. But it appears it did not ... autosave that is... and unfortunately being Blogger it is not possible to contact anyone about it. I worked long and hard on it. The moral being - do it in Word first then copy and paste because Blogger's autosave is more bug ridden than a convertible windshield on a summer night. I am royally pissed.

Good night all..

A Metaphor of Faith - Sicut Cervus

As the hart panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.

Psalm 42:1 – King James Bible, 1611

It's been a long time since I've read any of Robertson Davies but yesterday on CBC Radio’s Studio Sparks, Eric Frieson prefaced a performance of Palestrina’s great motet Sicut Cervus with a quote from Davies' novel Fifth Business:

If he hoped to make an atheist of me, this was where he went wrong; I knew a metaphor when I heard one, and I like metaphor better than reason. I have known many atheists since Sam, and they all fall down on metaphor.

I consider myself lucky that during my period of strong faith I attended a parish church (St Thomas Anglican – Toronto) where music – both sung and in the spoken language of the King James Bible and the Book of Common Prayer - was an integral part of worship. Not that the parish community did not listen to reason: reason played a part in the Senior’s Home we built to celebrate our centenary, in the day care centre we operated in the church hall, in the neighborhood and University outreach programmes. It even played a part in the Parish support of Caesar Chavez and the California grape boycott – but frankly being Anglo-Catholics who really bothered with grapes unless they were fermented? And it may have played a part in a few of the sermons that were preached. But mass, evensong, matins – all the feast, fast and ferial celebrations of the church year – those were pure metaphor.

I fell away from the church many years ago and perhaps it is approaching old age but these days I think I miss the reason but I know I miss the metaphor.
As a sidebar, God' Secretaries, The Making of the King James Bible by Adam Nicholson is an intriguing look at the period, the politics and what influenced this brilliant piece of English literature.

Gondoliera???????

It appears that Venice's macho Gondolieri - much fabled in Gilbert and Sullivan as the gay gondolieri but that's another story - are up in arms. These men's men of the canals - I've included a few pictures taken on a vacation back in 2000 to show just how macho these boys are and 'cause hell beefcake is beefcake - are horrified that a woman is attempting to break into their manly domain. Alexandra Hai - a foreigner and a "gasp" woman - has won the "limited" right to navigate through the waterways of la Serenissima.

An article in today's NYTimes quotes one veteran gondolier as saying "Let's leave one tradition intact." And Venice is a city that loves its traditions. However you will notice that none of these gentlemen are wearing the traditional straw boater with the long flowing streamers - guess it just isn't manly and besides it would get in the way of those traditional Armani sunglasses!

To Hell In A Handcart

Last week one of the commenters on Big Ass Belle referred to the idiom: going to hell in a hand cart and bingo one of those memory drawers popped open.

When we were living in Warsaw Laurent and I decided we needed a vacation break between Christmas and New Year's. For some reason, don't ask me why, I decided that Dresden would be a great place to see. I was right. It turned out to be one of the most enjoyable vacations we've ever had and the source of the first travel article I had published.

The next morning the sun was bright and a deep cold had set in - a day for museums. One of the legacies of Augustus the Strong's mania for collecting is the Green Vault housed in the Albertinium Museum. I now know how Ali Baba must have felt entering the cave: diamonds, gold, silver, enamels, jewelry, miniatures, serving plates, trinkets-including a wonderful fat gentleman in silver being transported by the devil "to hell in a hand cart." And only a curator with a sense of humor would arrange it so you stumbled out of this Baroque riot into the Tim Burton-like sculptures of Thomas Reichstein and Andreas Feininger's black-and-white photos of a long past America.

Excerpt from Messin' Near Meisen - Warsaw Business Journal, February 5-11, 2001.

For some reason amongst all those treasures that fat little gentleman charmed me most with its mix of humour and silversmith's art.
And here he is, ain't he a beauty? And Lynette unless I'm mistaken that's a terrier at the Devil's heels.

Spring Has Sprung - VI

I realize I have become a trifle obsessive about the garden - perhaps it's because I know at the end of July I will turn it over to other people to care for.

A colleague asked me why, if the house was sold, would I waste my time working in the garden?

Good question. Possible answers:

• Pride - damned if I'll turn over the garden in a sorry state to its new owners.
• I enjoy it.
• Plants are living things that, like all living things, need care and nurturing.
• It keeps me off the wild streets of Aylmer!
  

Lynette (Big Ass Belle) was asking what the pretty variegated ground cover was on a previous post. I knew it as Bishop's Scourge but it is commonly known as Bishop's Wort or Gout wort. Lovely but invasive - I've needed a machete to cut it back the odd time. But it is still a spectacular ground cover for the ferns, hostas and day lilies.

There are several types of Bleeding Hearts - I believe the low, spreading one is a Japanese variety. The two by the shed have become a good size in the past four years.

When the house was built back in 1885 the kitchen garden was where part of the family room and deck are now. Most of the back was vegetable and fruit gardens (there's an aerial photo from the '40s in the City Archives showing the garden and fields down to the river bank.) Every year the remnants of the strawberry and raspberry patches spring up. I just leave them - they bring extra colour and life to the garden.