Scraps of Joy

Baby Squirrels and Daffodil Surprises

Posted on May 29, 2020 by Joy / 9 Comments

Hello Friend,

What a beautiful day! You can see many of my neighbours are out in this lovely weather. I often hear neighbourhood voices through my open windows these days. We’re all tired of being cooped up.

Please come in.

I thought of having our visit outside, but The Cowboy is still busy with Operation Yard Face-Lift, and we would be trying to talk over all manner of singing saw or droning drill. It will soon be a lovely peaceful place for tea and a chat.

His latest project is to repair and repaint the lawn furniture. We have chosen the brightest, happiest colours we could find – yellow pansy, mint liquor, and glass bead (whose name doesn’t give you the slightest clue to its colour, it’s actually a sea foam blue). The colours remind me of those old paint cases we used to take to school …

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Image by Miguel Á. Padriñán from Pixabay

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Now, I made an old favourite for tea today, Lemon Square Bars. Tart and sweet, they are perfect with a sensible no nonsense tea like English Breakfast Tea “Produced for the United Kingdom from pure Ceylon Teas packed in Sri Lanka”.

To top it off in regal style, this tea comes from a royal-purple-coloured tin adorned with photos of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge. It must be the real thing. 🙂

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The Cowboy and I went for a short drive today, and the streets are just as busy now as they were eleven weeks ago when everyone’s lives took a sudden turn. Our province is now in Stage One (of three) of the Relaunch. Every province is different in their scheduled re-entry to life outside of isolation. On one side of us they have launched one of four phases. The province on the other side is in phase two of five.

Whatever the stage, it’s all so precarious. None of us has been here before, really, and we’re cautiously finding our way. Still.

When will we ever get out of that mode, of finding our way? It’s tiring, don’t you find? Mentally wearing.

However, there is still joy and beauty all around. This has been a week of surprises. Some delightful, as all surprises should be. First of all, a smattering of the tulips I planted last fall turned out to be daffodils. It’s a giggle, but when the first daffodil bloomed I remembered that I had indeed planted daffodils as well as tulips. That’s been fun, to see them blooming one by one.

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Image by Gabriele M. Reinhardt (LILO) from Pixabay

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The other object of delight this week has been a family of squirrels in our back yard. There are four babies in all, cute little rascals. And mischievous! Scampering back and forth in the eaves troughs (I suppose some countries call them gutters) at five in the morning, trampling the cucumber plants. Maybe eating them too? At any rate, the cucumbers will have to be replanted.

The first time I saw a little critter in my garden box this week, I ran outside to chase him away. But he’s so little he doesn’t even know to be afraid yet. He hid behind the planter, but within five seconds he popped his head and front paws over the edge to peer at me, less than two feet away. I shook my finger at him. Don’t you chew on my plants!

He looked me over and seemed to listen very carefully, and then he scurried away. I’ve since seen him, or his siblings, in the garden box again. So, he’s not very obedient. Internet wisdom advises getting a dog, among other things.

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We’ve had a few unwanted surprises this week too. Unsettling, disappointing, heartbreaking surprises. Interesting how the nasty surprises have to do with people. People I know and people I don’t know, making choices that send ripples out far beyond their own little circle. Added to the crisis we’re already living in, it’s almost too much.

As I’ve tried to process it all this week, I’ve come to the conclusion that all I can do is ask God to give me grace. Grace was certainly not my first reaction, but it needs to be.

The truth is, the world is a broken place. But it has always been broken. In every generation, every century, grandparents have lamented, what kind of world are my grandchildren growing up to face?

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If we find ourselves with a desire that nothing in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that we were made for another world.
C.S. Lewis

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This broken world can only be faced one day at a time. And in that one day there is beauty, there is joy. Sometimes you have to try harder to find it, but it’s there. Little gifts God puts in our path. We only need to stop and soak them in instead of blindly walking over them.

Daffodils, rascally squirrels, or Sweet Thing recounting to me on a video chat how she planted her “cubumbers and corn-on-the-knob.” These are the gifts.

Life is hard, but God is good.

This passage in my Bible begins with the heading “The Cure for Anxiety”:

Therefore I tell you: Don’t worry about your life … Consider the birds of the sky: they don’t sow or reap or gather into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Aren’t you worth more than they? Can any of you add one moment to his life-span by worrying?
Observe how the wildflowers of the field grow: They don’t labor or spin thread. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendour was adorned like one of these. If that’s how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and thrown into the furnace tomorrow, won’t he do much more for you?
But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be provided for you.
Therefore, don’t worry about tomorrow, because tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.
Matthew 6:25-30, 33-34 CSB

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Thank you for coming today. Stay safe out there, and see you next time.

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Featured image, daisies and picnic basket, by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

Tea Time

Sunday Memories and Coffee Cake

Posted on May 24, 2020 by Joy / 2 Comments

Hello Friend,

How lovely to see you on this fine Sunday. The coffee cake is just out of the oven and best served warm. So, come on in!

I love Sundays. Do you? This morning as I was waiting for you, I was thinking back to Sundays when I was growing up. So many memories came flooding back.

Please have a seat here at the dining table. This sour cream coffee cake has been making my mouth water for the last thirty minutes. That cinnamon-y sugary warm smell. Mmmmm. It’s not easily eaten from a plate on your lap, so we’ll sit at the table like two proper persons.

Tea? I’ll pour.

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When I was a little girl, we went to church Sunday morning and evening. It was the kind of church where everyone knew everyone’s name. As a child it seemed big, but like a big welcoming family. And many of the congregants were family. Several of my aunts, uncles, and cousins attended our church and that helped to make the place feel like home.

The church building itself was very familiar because Mom cleaned it every week, and my three younger brothers and I helped. We all had jobs to do. And we knew every nook and cranny of that place, except maybe the pastor’s study. We probably weren’t allowed in there.

One of the main jobs my brothers and I had was to dust the wooden pews. I loved that job. As I remember it, we divided into two groups of two – one couple would dust the pews on this side of the center aisle, and the other would do the other side. Dust cloth in hand, one of us would dust the seat portion of the pew, spreading the cloth to cover the width of the bench and zoom down to the other end. Then move up a row, zoom back toward the centre aisle and so on.

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The other one would do the pew ends. That was fun. We’d begin at the back pew, with the dust cloth on top of the pew end, then zu-wip down the curved arm, jump up to the pew end just ahead and zu-wip down that arm. Zu-wip! Zu-wip! Zu-wip! all the way to the front of the church. Then, run back to the back row and do the pew ends along the side aisle. Knowing our competitive natures, we probably had races to see which side of the church would be done first.

All of my cousins at church were boys except for Darlene, who was close to my age. Most Sundays I would go home with Darlene, or she would come to our house. We’d play all afternoon and then meet up with our families again at the evening service.

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For me, the evening service had a completely different feel from the morning service. The morning service was bright, with sunlight streaming through the tall windows lining each wall.

Everyone was dressed up in their Sunday best. Shoes had been shined, socks straightened (I have a very clear memory of Dad perfectly aligning the vertical ribs on my white knee-socks before church as I sat on my brother’s bottom bunk), and hair in impeccably separated ringlets.

Dad was the choir director and Mom sang soprano in the choir, so we four kids sat by ourselves in a pew near the front. If one of us even slightly misbehaved, Mom would correct us with a look from the choir loft. I’m sure no one else even noticed it, but we four knew exactly what that look meant and tried ever so hard not to provoke it.

Let me top up your tea before we continue.

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The evening service was more relaxed than the morning. There was no choir, fewer people came, and for some reason the hymns seemed less formal. After a full afternoon of play I was tired and usually found it long. Throughout most evening services in the summer months, I would sit wishing and wishing that by some miracle we’d stop at the ice cream shop after church.

If we didn’t go for ice cream, we cousins and a few friends would raid the crab apple tree on the property next door. I’ve never tasted another crab apple to match those tart tasty treats. I wonder now, who owned that tree and if they minded that it was invaded by church kids on the odd Sunday evening. We never got into trouble for it.

Sometimes, the miracle I’d wished for came true, and we kids would be allowed to cross the vacant lot to the ice cream shop by ourselves. We’d take oodles and oodles of time choosing the perfect flavour. By then, the grown-ups would have joined us, and we all held on to the lingering day, as we enjoyed our ice cream and swatted at the odd mosquito.

Then it was home to bed with only the memory of another wonderful Sunday to tuck in with the rest.

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My goodness, I’ve prattled on and on. Thanks for listening, and thanks for coming.

See you next time.

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Featured image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

Tea Time

Peace and Calming

Posted on May 21, 2020 by Joy / 4 Comments

Hello Friend,

So glad you’re here! I’ve been waiting for our tea time today.

Not that it’s anything special, mind you. I’ve been spending so much time out in the garden that I haven’t taken time to bake anything new. It’s going to be brown-eyed susans again. But I think you enjoyed them last time, didn’t you?

Which reminds me, did I give you the recipe yet? I think I forgot, at our last visit.

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Brown-Eyed Susans

1 cup margarine
3 Tbsp. sugar
1 tsp. almond extract
2 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt

Cream margarine. Add sugar, almond extract, flour and salt. Roll level tablespoons of this mixture into balls. Place on a greased cookie sheet and flatten slightly (I used my thumb). Bake at 350 F for 14 minutes. Frost with Frosting:

1/2 cup icing sugar
1 Tbsp. cocoa
1 Tbsp. hot water
1/4 tsp. vanilla extract

Combine sugar and cocoa, add water and vanilla. Frost each cookie with a drop of icing.

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Before we head around to the back yard, take a look at those tulips. Aren’t they magnificent, standing so straight and tall? And these aren’t even all of them; there are still several more to grow up and bloom. See?

Mr. Rabbit has been leaving them alone since I sprinkled bone meal around them and put some marigolds in the vicinity. Beautiful. These tulips make my heart dance; they were so worth the wait.

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Come on around back. The Cowboy has been busy building extra garden beds, and this week Babe and I planted vegetables – everything we wanted except carrots. We couldn’t find carrot seeds anywhere. Imagine! I’ve never run into that problem before.

Digging in the dirt is therapeutic, isn’t it? To feel warm earth pass through my fingers settles me and brings me back to age-old wisdom. What has always been true …

A mighty fortress is our God,
A bulwark never failing.
Our helper He amid the flood
Of mortal ills prevailing.
Martin Luther

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Let’s sit in this spot on the patio. I’ve turned our chairs to face the flowerbed where I planted those two half-barrels with geraniums and trailing white lobelia. I must have geraniums and they must be bright pink. As you can see, these tulips are just finishing, and the hostas are just beginning. I love the look of a garden on a cloudy day. Something about the air makes the colours so vibrant.

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To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.
Audrey Hepburn

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Camomile, Honey & Vanilla tea is the perfect pairing for our brown-eyed susans. The tea is ever so slightly sweet, and the only sweet thing about the cookie is the drop of chocolate. Take a sip, lean back, and relax. We have nothing pressing to do in the next little while.

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The Cowboy and I took a little trip to a nearby town’s DIY home centre on the weekend. He needed more supplies for the yard. The last time he’d been there, he was almost the only customer, so we thought we’d be in and out in no time. But since his last time there, some restrictions have lifted in our province and suddenly it seemed everyone was out and about.

My goodness there were a lot of people there, trying very hard to keep to the protocols – using hand sanitizer, keeping six feet apart, following the arrows, obeying the “only-two-shoppers-in-the-greenhouse” rule.

It was impressive how hard we were all trying. But I have to say, the overall atmosphere was … tense. People were On Edge. This is a whole new world we’re trying to navigate, and the buffer that most people keep between their raw emotions and the outside world has depleted and worn thin.

Out in the lumber yard, The Cowboy cheerfully greeted our helper from the cab of our truck, only to be given a tired, gruff response. He was helpful, but not very chipper. Perhaps he’d had enough of touchy customers that day.

I was happy and relieved to get back to safe harbour. Home.

As much as many of us are anxious to get out there doing, I for one, have become accustomed to the simple and utter safety of Home. I love home.

Oh look! There, in the evergreen just over the fence. A robin peeking out. The Cowboy said that the other day he was working near that evergreen when he looked up towards the roof of the house, and there sat two robins watching him very closely. One of them had tufts of dead grass and fluff in its beak and they seemed agitated. He thought that he must be working near where they were building a nest. He left that area for a few minutes and when he came back they were gone. Maybe we’ll have baby birds chirping from that tree someday soon.

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Do you have to go? Well, thank you so much for coming and sharing simple peace and delight in my garden. Have another peek at my tulips on your way out.

See you next time, and stay safe out there.

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Featured Image (watering can with tulips) by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

Tea Time

Green and New Beginnings

Posted on May 15, 2020 by Joy / 4 Comments

Hello Friend,

I’ve been watching for you, looking forward to our visit today. How have you been?

I’m doing well. Been a little busier this week with this and that, and have been trying to get to our visit, but it didn’t work out until now. I’m so glad it did work today. Thank you for coming.

Lady Spring has been hard at work, hasn’t she, in mysterious times and places. I don’t know where she lives, but every morning I’m amazed by her handiwork. The grass is greening up, and one by one the trees are feathering out in their first delicate green leaves. I think green must be her favourite colour.

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I’m pretty sure all of my tulips have now poked through the earth, and these five will bloom any minute! Something has been munching on a couple of the littlest ones. I suspect it’s our friend Mr. Rabbit, who likes to hide in that corner over there. Apparently, he finds tulip bulbs, leaves, and buds quite delicious. But there are ways to deter him, and I may try one of the home-remedies I found here.

Now, come on in. Babe had a hankering for brown-eyed susans this week. They’re a simple almond-flavoured cookie with a dab of chocolate in the middle that makes them look like the Brown-eyed Susan flower. I think you’ll enjoy them.

Won’t you sit down? I’ll pour. Help yourself to cream and sugar if you like, and a cookie or two.

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Call me crazy, but I’ve been thinking a lot about the colour green lately. First of all, a friend painted her bathroom chartreuse, which is a yellowy green; it looks really nice. Then, at separate times, Bright and Little Munch, aged 3 and 2, told me their favourite colour is green. And then, of course, Lady Spring brings green with her wherever she goes.

For me, green has always been a colour barely on my radar – that is, when I’m choosing a colour for something like clothing, linens, soft furnishings, or paint. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized how much I rely on green.

When we take our winter vacations, leaving our land of snow and cold, the biggest balm to my soul is seeing green grass, green plants, forests of varying shades of green. It’s like my soul feeds on green. It brings new life, new beginning.

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“Nature in her green, tranquil woods heals and soothes all afflictions.”
John Muir

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We are entering a season of new beginnings. Now that some restrictions are lifting, I sense a jumble of emotions out there.

Beginnings often frighten us because they seem like lonely voyages into the unknown.
John O’Donohue

Some people are eager to get out there, jump back into “normal” life, whatever normal is. And was there ever such a thing? Probably since this virus hit, we’ve been looking back on how things were, pre-Covid, and calling that normal. Maybe what we really mean is that we’re looking forward to getting back to old routines. Yet, I have a sneaking suspicion that we will never get back to those routines exactly the way they were. Does that make you sad? Sometimes it makes me sad. But then I’m reminded that life is constantly changing …

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“Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place.”
Rumi

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Other people are concerned about where this new beginning is going to take us. Will it really be a better place? Or will it look much like where we are right now; what some experts are calling the “second wave,” bringing with it more isolation, more distancing, more masked smiles?

I confess to being in this latter group. Not fearful, just wary. I know too many people who are considered high risk. And it only takes one stranger, not following protocol, to start the regression. It’s all so uncertain.

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“As milestones go, this is more akin to taking a breather after a long climb, only to realize there remains much uneven, steep terrain ahead to reach the top, which is still shrouded in clouds.”
Keith Gerein

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Where do you find yourself on this spectrum? Excited to get out there, get things moving again? Hesitant to step out into the new normal? Or somewhere in-between? Wherever you are, I think it’s important to remember that we rely on new beginnings, like we need green, to bring life back and feed our souls.

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So, just take it one step at a time. One you-sized step. It doesn’t matter what size steps your friend or neighbour is taking. Stay tuned to what works for you. And, little by little, we’ll figure this out. We’ll figure out how to emerge into this strangely altered world.

Thank you for visiting today. Take care out there, and see you next time.

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P.S. Just for fun, I took Green, as a topic and colour, to my beloved bookshelves, and chose some of my favourite reads. Here they are …

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Featured image of daffodils with green and cream teacup by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

Scraps of Joy

Baby Squirrels and Daffodil Surprises

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Sunday Memories and Coffee Cake

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Peace and Calming

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Green and New Beginnings

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