the garden was a neglected project. still, some carrots grew and the tomato plants have grown more green and healthy than other years - not sure why they’re only ripening now.

so it was buttered carrots for teatime today. woohoo.  oh and the tea was homegrown chamomile - enough for only 1 pot so it was pretty special.

my parents;

had a party and we all of us gathered - brothers, sisters, in laws and their folks, uncles, aunts, nephews, niece, cousins, cousins once removed, neighbors, childhood friends…it was an “everyone welcome” party spanning several days at several venues;

i did not take any of these photos. most of them are Leanne’s and my aunt Julia’s. this is a photo of Leanne that Julia took (it’s my favorite!);

now if you want to see the truly ridiculous side of my family check here.  (click on HQ to view high res scans)

it’s been a year since i changed my header and now there’s no need as we’re back again at Emma Lea’s to pick jam berries, tart berries, home made ice cream berries, smoothie berries, freezer berries, berries for birthday cake coulis…i didn’t even mind so much that it drizzled and was cool and felt very unlike summer - i ate a hot strawberry sundae anyhow.

so good to have extra picking hands because i spent most of my time nursing and changing diapers in the field.  these 2 were pro berry pickers - you should see all i ended up with (thank you S);

(looking disheveled and feeling a little so too)

can’t wait for the raspberries to sweeten up!

Making butter from raw milk cream makes me feel more like the mama i often assumed and still somewhat aspire to be…the kind who lives on the land, grows her own vegetables, mills fresh grains, jams berries, churns butter… it feels so good to slow down and wonder and experiment and follow through with some real good intention. As a result, the butter is creamy delicious and we’ve also got some buttermilk to add to our biscuits later. i think we’ll do this often (i look forward to the developed biceps after all that shaking too).

(editing in those buttermilk biscuits);

We followed the directions from this video and while he says to shake the cream for just a few minutes, ours took much longer, more like an hour. We wandered around the hood this windy morning gathering freshly fallen chestnuts, all the while shaking our jar of cream.

i just have to add some words that Alice from Home on the Range  sent me about making butter;

couple of hints:  when the cream is so fresh, it will take longer to
churn....2nd...if you put a marble in the jar, it will churn quicker (don't
shake too hard to break the jar..or find a stainless container, like a
thermos...then it doesn't matter how hard you shake.  You will feel the
difference when the butter breaks, so you won't need to see it during that
time.

Though parched, our little garden grew while we were away. The Helmer’s fingerlings were by far the best surprise since i assumed the plants were stunted. Jamie was right - regardless of limited space, anyone can grow potatoes.

heirloom tomatoes are coming soon…

i tried hard to enjoy thoroughly and not complain too much about the heat wave last week but it was rather overwhelming and hard to breathe. The weather is quite the opposite now, cool and hinting at Fall. i hope you all will brave the expected rain and get out to support your local farmers at the markets this weekend. i’ll be there. rain or shine.

I’m dragging this trip on and on i know but i can’t not finish and this is the last of it.

St. Felix is very near to the farm, perhaps too near when they have the best poutine ever. The Cathedral is a far more pleasant view than my plate of home fries, curds and (real) gravy. It really is not an appealing dish to look at but beyond appearance it can be so delicious - i ate there 3 times and that was not the end of poutine, oh no, twice i ate bad poutine. I’ve been home long enough to crave it again though.

Antiquing! Can that be a verb? I’m not sure. Anyhow i didn’t find much that would fit into my suitcase and aside from the awesome school desks and other furniture there was nothing that really jumped out at me. Little A scored some marble treasures and a hand held egg beater useful for mixing this and that and foaming up bubbles. total score.

Asbestos. It’s the town and the mine. Strangely impressive though sad and toxic.

back at the farm, in the back of the house, through the trees, over or under some electrical and barbed wire fences and bordering the property is a magical place i remember playing in as a kid - the sand dunes (the beach without water). As an adult i was more bothered by the annoying black flies but what squealing and games the kids all played.

oh Carson. He fell in love with me eventually;

I can’t exclude this last frame before the shutter snapped and my camera broke. so sad. i felt like i was missing a limb but i think it was good for me to be without a camera for a few days.

I missed out on some shots of our last day at the farm as well as our time spent in Montreal and the beautiful hotel where we stayed and the short visit with Claudia and of the great show that we stumbled upon at the “Just for Laughs” festival but look see how long it’s taken me to catch up here already and so much continues…we’re into August already. It’s hot and the pool is the place to be.

my mom’s side of the family is quite huge and there are cousins i hardly recognize from when we were kids, now grown and with their own growing families. it was such a good idea to get together and so much fun but still, time was short and there are cousins i didn’t even have a chance to connect with (my shyness of using my horrible french accent a great fault). So here’s my mama and her siblings now and back in 1984 with their dad;

our hosts and organizers Susan and Russell;

candid shots of our weekend gathering of family folk for tea, picnic, birthdays, corn shucking, playing and wandering about;

L (as i remember her much of the time we were away) will have far more and far better documentation of the families than i managed. i’ll be waiting to see those for some time as she is in the midst of wedding season and swamped. oh but they’ll be good.

Most of my trips out east have been in Summertime except for one April when i went for my Aunt’s 80th birthday and also in hopes of tapping some trees and experiencing the whole process of making maple syrup. We tapped some trees and sap did run but not for long before a huge snowstorm froze things up. i guess i’ll have to return again one year. In Summer a short wander down the road;

takes you past the donkies and horses;

past Jed;

and the kyloes;

to the sugar shack where it sits looking abandoned and ever so curious. One day i’ll see what goes on in there;

check out Jed on the left, waiting for us to return. i should liked to have brought him home with us;

sugar on snow. oooh i was giddy for this! how clever to freeze the snow;

i ate 3 forkfuls.

i’m starting sort of backwards and more towards the middle,  recounting our recent trip “back east” as i refer to it after hearing my mom talk about it so often in this way. i’m sure that when i was really little i believed that “back east” was it’s own farm and that Quebec was made up of the few surrounding farms and including the towns of Danville and Kingsey Falls. For little A “back east” is a different farm from where i mostly played as a kid but nearby at “Uncle Russell and Aunt Susan’s” farm where we stayed in the home that my mom and her siblings were born and raised in. i could go in so many directions from here but since i’m starting sort of backwards and more towards the middle of things (at the time just before my shutter snapped) i’ll begin with the beautiful, shaggy and happy highland cows that roam and graze some hundred + acres. What a lucky fold as i’ve learned they are called rather than a herd.

“Kyloes” Russell calls to them so they won’t be startled as we come near;

still the mama far from her calf instinctively calls to it;

my own maternal instincts were first wary of my little one getting too close to those big horns or the other way round of the big horns getting too close to my little one and so a slow approach felt fair and right. Up close and under the shag those eyes were curious and docile. The bull, however, with his horns tipped forward as if naturally always ready to charge, intimidated me and i worried he’d pick up on that so i retreated.

it’s a happy place for the cows and all the animals and a happy place for my boy.

just a reminder for the local folk about Sunday’s market.

just a wee bit of the lavender that scents the eye pillows;

Our own wee garden is more of an experimental project rather than to sustain us so i’ll be stocking up as usual at the market.