Vivian here, covering for Jennifer today while she rests her back from berry-picking this weekend. She loves this time of year when the partridgeberries are ripe, and when they grow on your own land, it is oh-so-convenient to pick them to your heart’s content.
But what does October mean to me? Sure, I like roaming around the bushes on the point, helping to gather berries—although Jennifer says all I basically do is get in the way with my head bunts and demand to be petted—and I enjoy the fact that when I go outside I don’t have to sit in the shade to keep cool anymore.
But what I dearly love to do in our garden is roll around in my happy place: a mysterious patch of something that grows among the grass, moss and lichen in one particular spot. It seems to have the same heady effect on me as catnip!
Check out Maisie and me below, enjoying our special spot. She blends in better than I do! This pic was taken a few years back. We can’t help but think of my sister fondly whenever I go out there.
I still miss Maisie,
but when the sun is shining,
the wind is light, and my peeps
are out and about with me,
I’m in a state of bliss.
“In the entire circle of the year there are no days so delightful as those of a fine October.” ~ Alexander Smith
Interested in sharing one of your original articles as a guest? Feel free to submit your ideas to firstname.lastname@example.org. Preference is given to topics relevant to my blog, such as books, writing, nature, photography, travel, children and pets. – JKP
Close of hot June day— soft sea breeze, high crescent moon, cool waves kiss the shore.
We’ve enjoyed a bit of a heat wave this past week, an unusually early occurrence here in the easternmost province of Canada.
I call it a bonus because our summers are notoriously short, and after a long winter and spring, warm sun-filled days are more than welcome. I’m also grateful for the coastal breezes that keep things temperate.
About this time every winter, I begin to yearn for an injection of more colour in my world. So when I saw that Yellow was this morning’s one-word prompt from The Daily Post, I felt compelled to take part.
The following photos were previously shared on my blog over the years, but I thought it fitting – as well as worthy – to give them a second look.
These last two photos are from my Instagram account:
Last but not least, something to wake up the taste buds:
“How wonderful yellow is. It stands for the sun.” ~ Vincent Van Gogh
Vivian K. Perry here, back for another guest blog on Jennifer’s Journal. I have new photos to share today!
We had snowy, blowy weather last night, which gave us pretty windows to look through when we woke up. As much as Maisie and I don’t like it when it gets too cold, sometimes snow can add an aesthetic appeal to our long winters.
The first pic shows some of Jennifer’s other cats.
Now on to us real kitties…
At first, I thought I would like it outdoors today.
I quickly changed my mind.
Maisie seems oblivious to my discomfort. (Please disregard the high-tech reading lamp)
I am quickly let back inside, and then…
…the shoe is on the other paw!
Ha! Snow on her nose 🙂
Thanks for taking a look through the window on our world.
See you next time!
How is your winter going?
Do you have snow where you live?
“Daily Post Prompt: Never Again – Have you ever gone to a new place or tried a new experience and thought to yourself, “I’m never doing that again!” Tell us about it.”
On Saturday, I saw this photo on Facebook that brought back a memory for me. Also on that day, I read the above prompt from the Daily Post. So I couldn’t resist sharing said event from my childhood.
My friend Nancy, my younger sister Lynn and I were walking home from school one late afternoon in St. John’s, when we noticed from the Boulevard the many ice pans on the surface of Quidi Vidi Lake. I think it might have been spring thaw.
Quicker than you can say “last one in is a rotten egg,” the three of us ran down to the lake’s edge, dropped our book-bags on the shore, and proceeded to jump from ice pan to ice pan across the surface of the deep water. Not once did either of us think anything could go wrong. I guess we were so young and naive, we had no fear of the risk we were taking.
Luckily, Nancy’s father happened to drive along the Boulevard while we were playing there. Before we knew it, we were swiftly ordered into his car and driven home. At the time, we didn’t feel so lucky, but I shudder at the thought of what could have gone down if he hadn’t. Perhaps all of us!
Of course, our parents were outraged and we all received our punishment. The next time I saw my friend Nancy, she told me that her father gave her a good spanking.
“And that was it?” I asked, incredulous. My parents didn’t give spankings as discipline. They knew what really hurt: grounding my sister and me for a full week. No outdoors for seven days except to go to school.
I remember thinking at the time that Nancy had gotten off easy compared to us. Yes, she’d endured a spanking, but at least her suffering was “behind” her. 😉
Now I realize Mom and Dad had wanted us to appreciate how dangerous our activity was, by giving us a whole week to think about it. Never again did we dare to risk drowning by “copying pans.”
*copy: To jump from one floating pan of ice to another in a children’s game of following or copying a leader when the ice is breaking up in spring in a cove or harbour. A game of follow-my-leader over the broken ice, every cake of which, it may be, sinks under the weight of a lad. It is a training for the perilous work of seal hunting, which came later in the life of Newfoundlanders. You will see the merry young lads ‘copying’ as they call it—jumping from pan to pan till far out in the Cove in fearless rivalry. ~ Dictionary of Newfoundland English
Did you ever jump on ice pans when you were a kid?
Have you ever done something new and regretted it?