Rain. Cats. Rain. Drip.

 "I must go see some dew drops here, and hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear." (Shakespeare)

    A lull in the every present rain. Finally. Cordelia, from the hill, checks to see if the coast is clear.............

                    Rain. Rain. Rain. Crocus. Rain. Rain. Mud. Sog. Rain.
                     
 Smokey, two brothers from the hill, tease Cordelia with their presence.Rain. Rain. Drip.

 "Behind the handsome face, and piercing gaze of the cat there is always that tantalizing, inscrutable something, the exotic and secret centre that harks back to an ancient connection. " (D. Taylor)

  Spring. Lots of it. Everywhere. Too early. Go back to sleep. In the mud. In the rain.In the sog. Drip.

  And Cordelia waits for Smokey and Spencer to leave. Hoping for treats. Hoping for the rain to stop.

     And the strawberries have sprung. And the ferns have sproinged. Roses to rise up .

"A little garden in which to walk, an immensity in which to dream, at one's feet that which can be cultivated and plucked......

 overhead that which one can study and meditate upon.......

 Some herbs on earth and all the stars in the sky." (Victor Hugo)
     Spencer  chases Cordelia back home. He thinks he rules the roost. And there is  more rain. More mud. Drip. Drip.
     More cats like Smokey. Yawning at the door. As if to say, he's bored with the rain, and these sleepy grey days.....Drip. Rain. Cats. Drip.Yawnnnnnnn.

Bird's Eye View from Berwick

           Berwick. Pretty snazzy brand new retirement residence in Campbell River. With the sweet sounding title Berwick By the Sea. Could even smell the new paint and carpets.
                                      And we got the chance to volunteer yesterday.

                      My accompanist and I came to play for the afternoon happy hour. Happy hour at a retirement residence........

     A gentile gathering beside the atrium. The clink of crystal goblets, the aroma of  chef inspired appetizers, soft conversations and music.
                       
 That was us. The entertainment.And applause. Haven't heard that in a long while. Soft and rhythmical. Felt more like we were in a Jazz lounge setting. Background  interludes on a  Celtic theme, while residents chatted and entertained family members.  Strains of gaelic melodies wafted through the library.

   Then upstairs for a tour. And a view of Campbell River from the balconies, from the rooftop lounge. Perfect place for a wedding reception, a party, more music..........and yes, this is a retirement residence.

                  Looking north. Yes, we have a McDonald's.

 Looking East across Quadra island to the coast mountains.

                                          

                           South East  ( I think). Past the Target store, soon to be no more...

             The Quadra Island Ferry Terminal and Quadra Island, Discovery Passage. And Banners Restaurant.

 Oh look, we have a Dairy Queen, and a defunct Canadian Tire gas pump....And more construction  that you can see, if you lean way over the edge. Bad idea. I'm afraid of heights.......But I was so glad to get a view from the top of Berwick.

Rainy Day Things

    On a rainy day: stack mosaic granny squares, as if making a cake.
                                
   On a rainy day: Save Smokey's paw prints for another day.

    On a rainy day: Finish cutting out pattern pieces for next quilt.

   On a rainy day: Watch Bo watching you.                                  Finish a soft cowl in fan stitch.

 On a rainy day: Watch Cordelia evade Spencer, who stalks from below.
  
 On a rainy day: bake cupcakes, slathered with Cake Boss frosting. See Spencer peeping from the gate at the window. Then go outside and stomp in  muddy puddles, and do it all again......

Gift

  In the dead of winter. A gift. A gift that popped into existence, two summers ago. A day when Cordelia lounged in the grapes ,September 2013, on a hot muggy, grapes hanging ripe and ready for wine.  I grabbed my telephoto lens. Of course. Always nearby. And took a photo.
      "Give freely to the world the gifts of love and compassion. Do not concern yourself with how much you receive.Just know in your heart it will be returned."  (S. Mariboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free)

              Two years later . Morgan pencilled it  into existence in black and white. Capturing a moment. A gift. Supposed to be for Christmas. But even better on a grey, dank and dismal  February day.
"Gifts are made for the pleasures of those who give them..." (C. Ruiz Zafon , Shadow of the Wind)

                Two years later, it seems  spring is springing. But I'm waiting for another cold snap. A bit of frost. A bit of ice. Maybe some snow. Like last year. This just seems too good to be true. But for now I have crocus poking up through new dirt. I contemplate covering it up with dirt. Make it wait for a few more weeks. But it will have none of that.Up it comes. Like little sentinels.

  The rain drips.  I decided it was time to get in the pros. The Lawn and Garden People.Possibly you've seen them. They carry shovels, pick axes and tarps. And buckets of dirt. Have been waiting all year to do this. Got them to  dig and delve. Another gift. What would have taken me forever, took them one hour and two minutes. I timed them . Curious to see what four people could get accomplished. They were  lightning.

                The deer next door watched as well.  The front hill never looked so good.  I can hardly wait for them to do the back terraces; overgrown and stagnant with yuck .  This is like a new hill. Idon't recognize it.Another gift. In the dead of winter. Well, this is winter for us. Sog and bog.

                        Two summers ago, Cordelia sat in the grapes. Purring. On a sept afternoon.

 Two years later, she sits high on the fence,not by the grapes, since they are long asleep in the wet  and chill. She still purrs, is still sweet. Still comes and visits. She's waiting as well, I think. For this muck and wet to be over. For the grapes to start growing again. So she can sit in the vines once again. And purr. Have her photo op. Again and again.
                   "What greater gift than to be in the presence of a cat. " (Charles Dickens)

                                     Meanwhile, we wait with bated breath for the drips to stop dripping, the mud to stop oozing and the wind to stop howling. And another drawing to be created.
                                                                    In black and white. Another gift.
   "Our talents are the gift that God gave to us.What we make of our talents is our gift back to God. "                                                            (L. Buscaglia)