Love My Camera!

Above: My beloved is not looking at the camera and I am only there in shadow. When we walk, she’s in her own world; that’s why I’m glad she’s not looking up. At home, she’s in my world and I’m her constant focus. But we are never apart, like a being and its shadow. That’s why I love this photo!

Sunday, Paulo Pietropaolo, was playing music composed by Chiara Margarita Cozzolani, a Baroque composer and nun—in fact the abbess of her abbey. It was exquisite music and ideal for a Sunday afternoon. After our invigorating afternoon walk on a trail I like for its exposure to afternoon sun, I came home to watch Mosquitoes from National Theatre at Home.

Mosquitoes was arresting—not perfect, but spellbinding and rich, rich, rich with ideas. Absolutely nothing (except animals) evokes such emotion in me as does the moments when the lights dim, and I know I’m going to watch a great production. I positively shiver with anticipation.  Got another profound emotional rush of euphoria during the curtain call.

During my afternoon walk yesterday, I took some photos:

This is the wreath Jay made and gave me for my 

birthday. I've hung it on my fence.

I cannot get enough of our Arbutus trees. They

make out forest look tropical.

The Salal looks brilliant in the cold season.

The dying Ferns add a beautiful dark nutty 

colour to the landscape.

Arbutus again.

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It’s lovely and warm but raining today—and it’s foggy, making it very, very cozy in the house. The fire is high, and Sheba’s foot is recovering nicely.  

I’m making Kevin (and Shelly) a cake to thank him for all his help with my car and taking it over to his house late this afternoon. Tonight, I binge on the Great British Baking Show and maybe another offering on National Theatre at Home.

I adore GBBS. I never tire of it. I can’t believe I’m so hooked on a reality television show, but I am. I fall in love with all the contestants. It’s these wonderful real everyday people who make the show, not the hosts or judges.

I’m also going to make a nice big batch of Mulligatawny soup.

I had this book, with a blue cover.

Arbutus Super Bloom

Look at that Flicker! I was very lucky to catch a shot of this magnificent bird because I took it horribly quickly through the window in front of my desk, shooting between translucent tapes on the glass that keep birds from crashing into the window. This lucky few seconds tells me I’m going to have lots of fun with this camera and local wildlife.

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The recent run of things—the death of the Fiat, functioning without car, buyin the new car and then the dinner party—has me keen on my forthcoming completely empty agenda. Saturday was glorious—slow and easy, sunny and bright.  

I swept the deck and courtyard, cleaned up all the forest detritus on the lawns, chopped wood and tidied the shed. I’m a proud and happy (old) boy.

Then we went for a lovely walk in Drumbeg Park, coming home via Eoin and François’ place to drop off some things they left here Friday night, and to leave a container Di gave me at her place. When I got home, it was time for a spa before dinner and watching 42^nd Street on YouTube.

Today is fabulous too! We walked early because rain was predicted, but it’s been lovely and bright all day (so far). At ten, I was part of a Zoom call with other stutterers from the area and it was great. We’ll go for another walk (I’ve just re-bandaged Sheba’s foot) and the rest of the day will play out as did yesterday, but instead of 42^nd Street, I’ll be watchingMosquitoes, featuring Olivia Coleman, on National Theatre at Home.

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As for those flocks of thousands of small birds that swept through here last week, I found out that it happens often but not every year. Apparently, it’s every three or four years. And I may know the reason: Check out the photos below.

This is a shot of a distant Arbutus tree. They are enjoying a super bloom this year

and I reckon that may be a reason for the arrival of swarms of small birds this Fall.

Here's a close up of one cluster of Arbutus berries.

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A Nice Day

I hope I never forget yesterday!

First of all, we had glorious weather—if a bit chilly. I wrapped and sealed Sheba’s foot in the morning, and departed to meet Regina, Di and Judith to walk our dogs; I was ready to call it quits early, if need be, but she did fine the whole way. And at the end of the walk, my pals surprised me with muffins and a birthday serenade. Then it was home to cook.

I loved making the risotto. It took an hour and a half just to make the stock. I fried the shells, tails and a head, added lots of wine, thyme, onions, carrot and celery, a lot of garlic and peppercorns, and then I reduced it down to a strained six cups. Then I began the long slow process of making the risotto.

It was truly uplifting to derive all the spices I wanted from my own garden. With François making the dessert and Jay bringing the canapés, I had an easy time of it, getting ready. 

I think last night’s meal might have been one of the best I have ever made. I’ve always tried to impress with terribly complicated and challenging dishes, but last night’s dinner was comparatively simple and absolutely delicious. And so was dessert! Jay, it turns out, knew it was my birthday. I didn’t tell him; his sister did, and he told Eoin and Jay.

Everything was gone at the end of the night. Nothing says success like people having seconds and thirds of both the risotto and the Brussel Sprout dish. Everyone left at ten and I did all the dishes before going to bed. It was a delight to stay up late like a normal person. I’ll definitely make those dishes again.

Through the day and evening, friends called to say Hello. It was nice. 

And now a day of relaxation, lovely walks and rest. It’s another gorgeous day, and so I will take Sheba to Drumbeg for a walk—very happy that my birthday is over. I don’t care about being old, but for some reason I hate the attention birthdays bring. 

Tonight: Mosquitos on National Theatre at Home. Hooray!