Christmas is Upon Us

I haven't been blogging much lately.   I was away again to Alberta to pick up my car.  We had to dig the car out of a huge snowbank and knock off the ice before I could even open the doors. I stayed and visited relatives when Barry went back to work up near Fort Mac.  I also did some shopping as well before heading home.

I got home and finished my fall cleaning and got my Christmas cards and letters all sent out.  I also had fun mailing parcels and shopping for the new grandkiddies.  There are such sweet clothes and crafty toys out there.  Shopping for kids is so much fun!

Barry got home about a week ago and we had +15°C when he got here.  The snow was all gone until Friday when we has about 6" and have been shovelling a fair bit since then.

I am planning on taking a break from blogging for awhile as I don't have much to share.  I do have some pictures of Lulu left that I plan to share sometime.  Since it is winter, there is no gardening to share.  And since Barry is away so much, I don't do much baking or trying out new recipes.

In the new year, I will be painting the ceiling in the kitchen so will not spend much time cooking anything too special with that mess in there.

I am still having a hard time missing Lulu.  I finally put away her kennel and stuff from her corner of the kitchen.  I just couldn't bring myself to put it away until now.  I would have never thought I would miss her so much for so long but I still have a hollow place in my chest when I think about her.

I found this poem that I would like to share with you.  One member of a Facebook group called The Chickenistas, that I belong to, posted it.  It is called The Night Before Christmas at Rainbow Bridge by Cindy Morgan.  I hope you take a few minutes to read it, especially if you have had pets that you have loved and lost.

I wish all my friends and readers a Merry Christmas and Happy and fulfilling New year.  Take care of yourselves.  Joan

In Memory of Lulu

I have received many heartfelt words and remembrances of Lulu from friends and relatives after I wrote of her passing.  I thank you all for your kindness.

Today I am passing on one such message I recently received.  I received this letter and poems from my friend of many years, Marjorie Bradley from Shellbrook, Saskatchewan.  Lulu and I visited Marj several years ago.  It was a nice fall day so we were able to sit and visit outside and Lulu scratched and fertilized some of the flower beds and plantings in the front yard while we enjoyed the sunny warmth of the day and our friendship.

Marj's letter touched on so many Lulu memories that made me smile.  I am linking the references in the letter to past posts so you can remember with us.  Marj also concluded her letter with an original poem that I'm sure you will agree captures Lulu perfectly. 

Thanks Marj for your permission to share these wonderful thoughts and memories.

Dear Joan,

          Feathers
          Moult
          Chicken
          Fowl
          Daylight
          Laying
          Eggs
          Losing
          Fox
          Roosting
          Hormones

Missed opportunities.  When you wrote of Lulu's death, I went to my files where I vaguely recalled having started a poem - or Dr. Seuss style story about Lulu.  I see now and remember that it started with your blog about Lulu's tail feathers as well as the flock's moulting.  I never sat down with the discipline to be quiet until the muse came. 

This afternoon, I've been going through my favorite Lulu posts - her affair with the corn flakes guy - her dust bath at your parents' home - her game of hide-and-seek amongst the garlic, the cedar and the rhubarb - her egg laying ritual - her beer breaks with Joan and Barry - her travels to all those larger-than-life roadside monuments.

I thank you for sharing Lulu with the world - and feel privileged that she came to visit in Oct. 2011!  I've told all my best friends about Lulu's antics - yesterday it was my ladies book club at the care home.  They were all intrigued.

I was delighted that you caught the photo at Cochrane with the Beggs' "Legacy" sculpture.  I really think that they would enjoy receiving a photo of Lulu joining their bronze flock!  What a legacy that chicky left in her wake!

Despite the fact that I grew up on a farm with an everchanging flock of chickens, I've learned more about the creatures because of you and Lulu - the changes in the comb, the whole egg laying - or not egg laying drama - and I daresay that you learned not just factual stuff because of Lulu - but of course, all the companionship and affection and challenge of the heart - that you're missing so - right now.

On vacation, before I heard of Lulu's end of life, I'd purchased a book at a museum titled "I am Full Moon", it's a memoir by Lily Hoy Price, who grew up in Quesnel.  I marked the passage from her story Chickens to share with you - and at the time, Lulu - it underlines what you both know. . .

"From a nearby shed, I scooped a tin of wheat kernels from a gunny sack.  The wheat felt cool and slippery under my fingers. 'Come little chickens, come, cluck, cluck, cluck,' I beckoned.  I threw a wide arc of kernels in the air and laughed to see them chickens dance towards the feed.  They pecked at the granules, rummages for insects, cocked their red-comb heads and fluffed iridescent feathers.  I noticed their different personality traits.  Some followed, others led.  Some stood alone.  Others socialized.  Some sought shade from the sun, others burrowed in the ground to keep cool.

"As I played with my feathered friends I was oblivious to the heat.  I completely forgot about the muggy stench of the chicken house.  Rose came running down the path from the store towards the house.  'Hey, don't forget to gather the eggs!' "


Peck!  Peck!  Cr-a-a-a-ck!

She hatched right out of her egg one day
With a spirit that shouted, "Hip, hip, hooray!"
Her feathers fluffed and she learned to peck,
At weeds, at seeds, at an insect speck.
Her peers looked down their beaks at her;
Stat!  Joan planned a Lulu transfer.
Lulu went out in the yard to hide,
She left her nesting box stowed inside.
Then, "An egg is coming!" she sang out loud,
"I'll lay it there, away from the crowd."
Lulu hopped up steps on her gimpy leg,
Turned around, settled in, and laid her egg.
Once more, Lu-hen cackled, loud and true,
"I've laid an egg, that's just what I do!"
Worms and beetles she'd seek in the garden,
Right beside Joan; begging her pardon.
When afternoon yard work stopped, Lulu kept track,
'Cause Lulu knew "Beer?" meant "It's time for a snack!"
Chez pantry, magnificent M'sieu de Corn Flake:
She was his Duck, he was her Drake.
Lu' once claimed the end table, wanting -a snack?
Was put down, but Lulu just hopped right back.
When Barry got vexed, Lu's beak was put out;
She took to her roost for a long, drawn-out pout.
And then, a road trip - off to see Barry,
Remember the dog that was way way too scary?!
They stopped at each town to see all the big things,
But the best was at Cochrane: bronze chickens with wings!

Lulu, dear Lulu!  Your antics we'll miss,
Thanks dearest Chickie, your life spelled out bliss!

Honouring her life with laughter and stories,
Marj

Lend Me A Bird

I found this somewhere on the internet a number of years ago.  I can't remember the source but it may have been Backyard Chickens. 

It touched me then and it touches me deeper now.  My dear sweet, Lulu, you had so many lessons for us to learn.  You were a wonderful teacher.  God Bless You

Lend Me A Bird

"I will lend to you for a while a bird" God said, for you
  to love her while she lives and mourn for her when she's dead.
 
  Maybe for twelve or fourteen years or maybe two or three,
  but will you til I call her back, take care of her for me?
 
  She'll bring her charms to gladden you and should her stay be brief,
  you'll always have her memories as solace for your grief.
 
  I cannot promise that she'll stay since all from earth return,
  but there are lessons taught below, I want this bird to learn.
 
  I've looked the whole world over in search of teachers true,
  and from the folds that crowd life's land I have chosen you.
 
  Now will you give her all your love; not think the labor vain;
  nor hate me when I come to take my lovely bird again?
 
  I fancied that I heard them say, "Dear Lord, thy will be done,
  for all the joys this bird will bring, the risk of grief we'll run."
 
  Will you shelter her with tenderness? Will you love her while you may?
  And for the happiness you will know, forever grateful stay?
 
  But should I call her back much sooner than you've planned;
  please brave the bitter grief that comes and try to understand.
 
  If by your love you've managed my wishes to achieve,
  in memory of her you've loved; be thankful; do not grieve
 
  Cherish every moment of your feathered charge. She filled your home with song of joy
  for time she was alive. Let not her passing take from you those memories to enjoy
 
  "I will lend to you a Bird" God said and teach you all you have to do
  And when I call her back to heaven, you will know she loved you too
 
  -Author Unknown-

adapted from Edgar Albert Guest's  

A Child of Mine

Lulu is waiting here for me!  Have fun my precious sweetie!  We'll be together again someday.

Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

source

Rocky Mountains Goats

We saw these scruffy goats outside of Jasper, AB shedding their winter coats.

 

The Mountain Goat



 



 

Nobody knows the heart
of the mountain goat
as he leaps
from crag to crag
over distant stones.

 





But I tell you
he leaps in joy,
his back curving
in white ecstasy
against the black rocks.



He lives far
from where the heart
is too heavy to leap
and falls to a broken death
on stony ground.

 

by Rory Hudson

Porky in the Tree

I saw this porcupine near Elk Island Park, Alberta and snapped a few shots.  It didn't like getting its photo taken and kept turning away so I had many shot of the back of the porcupine.  I persevered and got a few to include with this poem.  Enjoy!  ;)

 

 

How to Pet a Porcupine?

 

 

How do you pet a porcupine?

 With that hair a fright?

 

 How do you pet a porcupine?

 

 Without a painful bite.

 

 How do you pet those needles?

 

 Without your hand going through it.

 

 The answer is quite simple…

 

Get your sister to do it.

 

 

By Evan James Griffin

A Snowy Night

A couple of weeks ago when we got a heavy snowfall, I stood in the doorways and took pictures into the night.  I thought some of them turned out quite interesting so I hunted up a poem about nighttime in winter to share with you.  Enjoy!

A Winter Night

 

The storm puts its mouth to the house
and blows to get a tone.

I toss and turn, my closed eyes
reading the storm's text.



The child's eyes grow wide in the dark
and the storm howls for him.

Both love the swinging lamps;
both are halfway towards speech.



The storm has the hands and wings of a child.
Far away, travellers run for cover.

The house feels its own constellation of nails
holding the walls together.



The night is calm in our rooms,
where the echoes of all footsteps rest

like sunken leaves in a pond,
but the night outside is wild.



A darker storm stands over the world.
It puts its mouth to our soul

and blows to get a tone. We are afraid
the storm will blow us empty.



by Tomas Tranströmer
translated from the Swedish by Robin Robertson

The Chickadee

When I was visiting my sister-in-law, Barb at her acreage outside Edmonton, AB we were able to hand feed the chickadees.  Here are some pictures and a poem about the sweet little birds.

 

 

 

 

THE CHICKADEE

 

Just out of doors, beyond the pane,

He flits from twig to twig, his air

A jaunty grace, yet, apt to deign

A visit of the morning fair,

He calls to me,

Chick-a-dee-dee-dee !
 

And blithe all wintry days is he.


 

His garb is plain, his sable cap

Fits to his skull, and all his mien

Bespeaks his mind that scorns the lap

Of plenty, while full oft, I ween,

He laughs at me,

Chick-a-dee-dee-dee !

He loves life's care to spurn and flee.



 

Light little vagrant of the sky,

He fears not want nor heeds the cold,

Yet through his pranks he casts an eye

Within betimes — so slight yet bold —

And chirps to me,

Chick-a-dee- dee- dee !

Please, sir, a crumb! and wins his plea.

 

 

by C. C. Lord


 

Fall in the Rocky Mountains

Here are some pictures I took travelling through the Rockies this fall.  They are lovely and magestic in all seasons.

Autumn in the Mountains

 

 

 Late summer’s shadows turn to fall,

 

Still wakes in me a beckoned call,



To trample through the crisp dry leaves,



Aft frost from season’s first chilled breeze.



Turning what was once a forest green,



To mountains dressed in fiery sheen,

Of maple red and golden oak,

Flaunts their regal autumn cloak.

I watch a southbound vee of geese,



A romping squirrel through fallen leaves,

As sweet smoke rises from chimney spire,

Hangs like perfume in fall’s cool air.

It’s time like this my soul’s at ease,

A moment to ponder a bit of peace,

With one last chance to take a peek,

Ere winter turns this place to bleak.

 

Poem by Ktdid