May 11, 2026
I have been quiet for a few days, mostly because I put my
back out and was prescribed a hydromorphone. Plays the dickens with my head. This
morning I dumped half a cup of hot coffee on my lap. But, I should be doing a
post about the spring flowers, and will try to concentrate.
The daughters came out yesterday with all sorts of goodies
for lunch, the highlight being a Mother’s Day cake with flowers and butterflies
on it. The butterflies were paper, but the rest was icing and a sheer,
indulgent, delight. They then went for a walk in the woods, trundling around
the trails they have known since they were small children, and came back with
some lovely flower shots.
It is amusing, in passing, to note that the daughter who can squat right down beside a flower to get the best angle had her sixtieth birthday last month. I am pretty sure if I had tried to do that at the same age, they would have had to bring in a crane to get me up again.
A few posts ago, I put
up a photo of my two little girls dancing down a trail. That is one of
the trails on our land (we have 300 acres and I can get confused). We bought
the first hundred when the daughters were quite young, maybe nine and eight and they grew up
spending weekends and holidays here, in a four-seasons cabin that we built. For
most of that time we had no hydro and so we heated with a wood stove, and lit and
cooked with gas that lived in large tanks at the back of the cabin. We carried
water from a well and our toilet facility was a township-approved pit privy.
(Read, outhouse, urban friends.)
What did we do here in all of our open time? We made and
maintained trails. JG taught himself woodmanship and did an inventory of our
trees, bushes and plants. We cut quantities of firewood. We were able to buy
more land, some of it carrying good sugar maple and so we made a bit of maple
syrup and got ourselves hooked into becoming maple people. This involved
building a sugar house, cutting even more wood, stringing tubing, clearing more
trails and, finally, boiling, bottling and selling. Plus eating a bit along the
way. In winter we played in the snow - skis and snowmobiles - and in other seasons we worked. Or built. Evenings, we read. No electricity means no TV.
Around where the girls became adults we were able
to get electrical power and a telephone. JG redid the cabin with electric
lights and electric stove and frig. Glorious. Only, in drilling out the inlets
for the power, we enabled mice. Somewhere there was a hole big enough to admit
them and we could not find it. We never have found it, and the cabin is now a storage place.
Sometime after that, JG retired. Finished work on a Friday
and on Saturday we started in seriously to build our dream home on our land,
still referred to, with very little reason, as ‘the farm’. I should write a
post or more about that building spree. Someday. I have to get the flower
photos up.
