My walk in the neighbourhood this morning was short (windy, crazy cold), but sweet….
Winter in the northern hemisphere is officially only a few hours old, but it feels like it hasn’t stopped snowing here since September. I really can’t complain when everything is so incredibly pretty. 😉
Wishing everyone the very best of the holiday season!
I was over in a newly-refurbished area of the East Village last week and couldn’t help but notice the City’s dominant installation of blue oat grass (Helictotrichon sempervirens) and ‘Karl Foerster’ feather reed grass (Calamagrostis acutiflora). While I know some gardeners are not necessarily enamoured with these selections, feeling them overutilized in urban landscapes, they have some serious advantages here – namely, they can handle our ridiculous climate, need little water, and are pretty much maintenance-free (which, for our municipal government, the added benefit is that there’s no need to pay gardeners to look after them). And they look great all year ’round.
This is a view facing Fort Calgary; the red pillars are interpretive posts describing the historical significance of the Fort. (The original fort, long gone, was built on the site in 1875 by the Northwest Mounted Police).
Do you grow any ornamental grasses?
Vodka irrigation, dapper plants with stripes, peppery baked goods, and an inspiring, marvellous book – it’s all here in this post!
Stuff about plants:
I somehow came home with paperwhite bulbs after my last trip to the garden centre. (Don’t worry – I paid for them…I just didn’t originally intend to buy them. The bulbs just looked so lovely sitting their in the bins, and they were such a good price, and I had some other stuff to buy, anyway…and well, that’s how it all starts). Then they sat in the den for a few weeks until I remembered that they existed and maybe I ought to do something about them. I haven’t forced paperwhites in years and I previously always did so in soil, but this year, I’m trying them in water, as it appears to be the more popular method. And I’m going to water them with a dribble of vodka to keep them from getting way too tall and flopping over (see here for more information). What is your preferred media for forcing paperwhites: soil or water? Or do you simply not bother with them, because you don’t like their (admittedly a tad cloying) fragrance?
I believe I’ve mentioned that the library where I work has amazing natural light due to the huge bay windows set into the east wall as well as skylights that extend up the full length of the north and east sides. One of my co-workers overwinters her geraniums in the windows, and she cultivates a variety of houseplants there all year ’round: jade plants, miniature Dieffenbachias, various cultivars of cacti, and aloe vera. A few days ago, we added to the jungle, taking in a massive collection of very large, very mature houseplants of a friend of my co-worker. The plants needed somewhere to stay for a few weeks while the owners move house, and the prospect of all that great light and good nurturing were welcomed. I am enamoured with these additions to our workspace and I suspect I will be sad to see them go when they head off to their new home. I particularly love this beautiful Dracaena fragrans (‘Warneckii’, I believe, but I welcome any corrections on that one – there are so many types of Dracaena!).
Cynthia Reyes’ Twigs in My Hair. I was absolutely thrilled to have the honour of being one of the first readers of Cynthia’s new book, a beautifully-written garden memoir. (And if you already own a copy of the book, you’ll notice a bit of what I’ve written here printed on the back cover). Twigs in My Hair is infused with the wonder and connectivity of gardens and their gardeners, of the natural world and our place within it. Cynthia gifts us with the crunch of brilliantly-coloured autumn leaves, the ethereal silence of a fresh snowfall, and the exquisite splendour of the first spring ephemerals. She invites us into her warm kitchen, with the burnished wooden table laden with canning jars filled with the harvest. We are welcomed into many beautiful gardens – some hers, some belonging to friends and family and mentors – and we delight in the rewards of labour and love, treasure the time spent with loved ones, and share the intense pain of struggle and heartache. Cynthia writes about gardening (and living!) with the wisdom and experience gained over time – and she doesn’t forget to share a few laughs along the way. Whether you are a seasoned gardener or a complete novice, you’ll see yourself somewhere in these pages, and I guarantee you’ll garner some inspiration for your own gardening life. Think about picking up this one as a holiday gift for the gardener in your life! Check out Cynthia’s website here.
Finally, I’m thinking about Christmas cookies (I won’t make them for a few weeks but the THINKING is happening). Does anyone have a tried and true recipe for Pfeffernusse? I love them but have never made them before. I found a zillion recipes online but the ingredients (and the measurements of said ingredients) vary significantly. What other cookies are your holiday favourites? Tell me about them! ♥
When they say time is flying by, what is its mode of transport, actually? Eagle wings? Lear jet? Rocket?
Trips and treks:
My hubby, my brother, a friend, and I wandered around Powderface Ridge in Kananaskis Country in mid-August…my hubby and I didn’t go to the summit, choosing instead to enjoy the scenery and the sunshine at a spectacular outcropping. Next year we’ll make another attempt, this time from the south!
As of two weeks ago, I’ve wrapped up things in the community garden, finally getting the garlic sown and a handful of parsnip seed chucked into my raised bed before mulching and heading home for the winter. Before the snow fell at the end of September and the first week of October, I made nearly daily trips to the garden to collect seed and came out with large stashes of calendula, nasturtium, and dill seeds; as well as enough lovage seeds to share with several gardeners in the Alberta Gardening Facebook group. Aside from truly pathetic performances from my zucchini, pumpkin, and pattypan squash plants, I am pleased with my veggie yields this year – I had pleasantly decent harvests of shallots, potatoes, turnips, bush beans, kohlrabi, dill, and parsley. As for flowers, the wet weather proved more than suitable for them, and I had a lovely turnout by the sunflowers (tiny, cuddly ‘Teddy Bear’ seen below), several cultivars of sweet peas and nasturtiums, and calendula. Since then, it has snowed several more times, and more of the white stuff is on its way this weekend. My winter coat is getting an autumn workout!
The Delicate Storm by Giles Blunt. This gripping, gritty mystery series featuring police detectives John Cardinal and Lise Delorme is set in the fictional city of Algonquin Bay, Ontario (modeled after the author’s hometown of North Bay). The Delicate Storm follows the first novel Forty Words for Sorrow, with a thoroughly engrossing story that draws connections to the events during a particularly troubling time in the history of the province of Quebec. In this second novel, the writing is polished and the characters are more fully realized than in the first book. Call me officially hooked!
Kathyrn Scanlan’s Aug 9 – Fog. This remarkable title may not be to everyone’s taste, but I was absolutely captivated by it. Over a period of a decade or so, Scanlan excerpted the contents of a stranger’s diary – a battered, everyday object she picked up for free at an estate sale – and then put the pieces back together again in different ways, creating an entirely new work that encapsulates Scanlan’s intentions, as well as the words of the original writer (one Cora E. Lacy, from rural Illinois, who began writing the diary in 1968, when she was eighty-six years old). The result is a snapshot into the life of a woman who did the laundry, washed her hair, watched the garden grow, put up preserves, went to church, socialized with friends, had the aches and pains associated with old age, and who mourned the deaths of loved ones. Her life was not extraordinary, but Scanlan has painstakingly taken the woman’s daily ruminations and lent them a gravity and majesty that is simply breathtaking to read. “Terrible windy everything loose is travelling.”
The Feather Thief: Beauty, Obsession, and the Natural History Heist of the Century by Kirk W. Johnson. This story – of an obsessed fly tier who steals several rare and massively valuable bird skins from the Natural History Museum at Tring, in the United Kingdom – has so many crazy twists and turns that it’s REALLY difficult to remember that it’s not fiction. Johnson’s meticulous research, polished writing, and (dare I say it?) perfectly breathtaking pacing elevate this true crime account to special heights. And the conservation angle doesn’t hurt, either – the statistics about human influence on species diversity are devastating. I came away furiously angry and heartbroken…for more than one reason.
Me blathering about me:
I’ve had a slow year, as far as publishing fiction goes…once again, I’ve been focused primarily on writing non-fiction and my fictional work has fallen by the wayside. I will, however, have a very short story called “Opening Night” published on selected cardboard coffee sleeves that will be used in several independent coffee shops in Edmonton, Alberta. The sleeves will be printed near the end of this year or early 2020 so I’ll have to ask my Edmonton friends to go drink a bunch of coffee (hot chocolate? rum in a coffee cup?) and track down my tale. 😉 And…my micro-fiction horror story “Seams” was also just published in the Scary Snippets Hallowe’en anthology, currently out as an e-book and available very soon in print format.
Cook (and bake) this:
This pumpkin bread is gluten free, but you can sub regular flour if you don’t need to eat GF. And it looks like it’s fairly easy to make this vegan as well. If you have to adhere to a gluten free diet, this bread may make you tear up with joy – it doesn’t have the consistency of typical GF baked goods (which are either powdery or rubbery or somehow, illogically, both at once).
This is the best slow-cooker whole chicken recipe I’ve ever found. When time flies, a slow cooker is a necessity; it balances the space-time continuum or something. Yes, that’s it, I’m sure….
Really, it’s just chicken, but it’s seriously delicious chicken.
As always, thanks so much for reading! If you want to, please share some fun projects you’re working on, recipes you’ve recently tried and loved, your plans for the next couple of months leading into the holiday season. (Feel free to put up a link to your blog, if you like – I’ve been trying to keep up with the WordPress Reader but it’s impossible, and my email inbox is a nightmare befitting the recent ghoulish holiday. Plus, this way, others can head over to your site and see your posts as well). Have an amazing weekend! ♥
When asked about “seriously hardy and reliable” herbs for our climate, parsley is always a ready answer. I grew both Italian (flat leaf, seen here) and French (curly leaf) this year – I love them both and can never decide which one is my favourite. I harvested the leaves from all of my plants in late September and we’ve had two snowstorms and a couple of weeks of hard overnight frosts since then, and they are still merrily growing away. If the weather holds, I will get another handful of fresh leaves yet before winter settles in. Sweet! I won’t dig these up to overwinter as I have no room indoors (and they won’t last five minutes with our cat)…but I’ve had parsley overwinter inground in the past so perhaps it will be a gift that keeps on giving next year.
Another type of parsley I’ve grown in the past is root (Hamburg) parsley – our growing season is so short in Calgary that I don’t get really large roots from the plants, but I’ve had decent success with them each year I’ve put them in. And, as a bonus, you can eat the tops as well. A hugely versatile plant!
Is parsley a favourite of yours, as well?
It’s easy to see why I adore larch trees, particularly in autumn.
And yes, that is snow in the background! We’ve had two significant snow storms in Calgary since September 29th. The first one dumped 31 centimetres (12.2 inches) of the white stuff on us (which, amazingly, wasn’t a record, although it was close). More snow is expected early next week so I had better try to get my garlic planted in the next few days!