Author: carin

new favourite

~ carin ~ 2 Comments

I love book shopping for the very young—it gives me a reason (not that I need one but it helps) to wander about the picture book aisles at length where I inevitably find something to add to my own collection. My latest discovery being Debra Frasier’s On the Day You Were Born.

Beautifully illustrated (by Frasier) in bold earthy colours and simple lines. The text is written as a poem of welcome and tells what the various elements of nature—wind, trees, tide, moon, stars, sun—were doing to prepare for ‘your’ arrival on the planet. (The trees, for instance “…collected the Sun’s light in their leaves, where, in silent mystery, they made oxygen for you to breathe…”)

Frasier is new to me, so I looked her up and found that ‘connection to nature’ is a theme close to her heart.  I’ve already called my bookseller with a list of titles just for me—as well as gifts for friends and family, both young and older.

“On the event of your birth
word of your coming
passed from animal to animal.

The reindeer told the Arctic terns,
who told the humpback whales,
who told the Pacific salmon,
who told the monarch butterflies,
who told the green turtles,
who told the European eel,
who told the busy garden warblers,

and the marvelous news migrated worldwide.

While you waited in darkness,
tiny knees curled to chin,
the Earth and her creatures
with the Sun and the Moon
all moved in their places,
each ready to greet you
the very first moment
of the very first day you arrived….”

—From On the Day You Were Born, by Debra Frasier.

~

ways of spreading holiday cheer: #1

~ carin ~ 1 Comment

Find a lonely tree that needs some love.

Add baubles.

—Voila!

When I saw two very merry women giggling in their sneakers, throwing tinsel onto this tree—all rosy cheeks and grey hair (god bless femmes d’un certain age)—I just had to stop, didn’t I.  They looked a little tense as I walked over, then one says Oh, man, for a minute there we thought you were the cops. I considered pointing out that I drive a toast coloured Toyota, but they’re already back to laughing and when I ask why they’re decorating the tree, they say for fun.

Of course!

Makes sense to me.

Although popcorn or cranberry garlands are preferable to tinsel. Better for wildlife.
And don’t forget to clean up after the hols!

~

this is not a review: stunt, by claudia dey

~ carin ~ 8 Comments

I don’t have a lot of guilt about giving up on a book that hasn’t got me riveted by, say, page 100. But that still doesn’t make it easy. Before crying Uncle I tend first to do a kind of dithery dance: close the covers, open them a few hours later, close them, consider another book, open its covers, then go back to the original, skim a few chapters.

And so on for a day or two.

By which time I could have read the bloody thing.

Much easier of course is a book so outright awful (or just really not my cup of tea at that moment) that it inspires me to slam it shut and move on without the hint of a dither. It happens but it’s rare.

Even rarer is a book I consider giving up on but don’t, and then end up not only glad I didn’t pull the plug, but thrilled that I didn’t. Claudia Dey’s Stunt is such a book.

It’s narrated by a young girl searching for her runaway father. The setting is Toronto: the islands, Parkdale, ravines. Much of her journey is internal, much bopping back and forth in time, and peopled with characters so quirky I sometimes couldn’t distinguish between what she’s living and what she imagines. Which is the whole lovely point of course.

Having said that, it felt long in places. Too much of a good thing is still too much and by page 100 I was saying: enough; it’s all beautiful poetic writing that circles and circles but I keep losing track of the story; is there a story??  But when I tried to stop, I couldn’t. That hypnotic circling poetry kept prancing round my head and so I continued and by the time I finished I wanted to start all over again. And I will.

Not for the story—but for the language.

And for the place Dey’s word magic ultimately takes both us and the narrator—back to ourselves with sharpened senses—the way senses can only be sharpened after a particularly breathtaking ride.

Language always wins.

“I wake to you standing above me, grinning. You should have bird feathers between your teeth. A thermos of coffee and a bag of worms in your hands. Apples in your suit pockets making you the many-breasted Artemis, goddess of the beasts. Boots grinding the carpeted floor, you are flinging sparks. Secret. And suddenly we are on your bicycle and we are, with your fist in the air, heading southeast to fish and to make fire!,our house and the life that we stage within it shrinking behind us to a dot on a map—instantly, the Old World. How far will we go? The Scarborough Bluffs? The Orient? And will we ever go back? Or should I start to memorize my mother’s face now? My sister’s? Every night I ask myself this question, and every night we return home, smelling like fire.”  —From Stunt, by Claudia Dey, Coach House Books, 2008
~

a cougar fighting donkey of my own

~ carin ~ 13 Comments

 
Ever since I met a woman a few years ago at a B&B in Okanagan Falls who had a lot of donkey chachkies around the place—enough that I ended up asking So what’s with all the donkeys? and she answered with some lovely donkey stories and streams of trivia, all of which become thin and boring in translation/reality because you really had to be there [on holiday, drinking B.C wine around a stone fireplace]—I’ve been slightly mad for the big-eared furry beasts.

In fact, one of my goals is to have a guard donkey on my as yet to be acquired vast country estate. I’ve heard they’re extremely proprietary and can easily take down cougars and other things that prowl about on country estates, vast and otherwise. (Not that I have anything against cougars.)

So the other day when I’m driving from point A to point B and pass a donkey standing in a field—which for some reason hardly ever happens—well, I had to turn around of course and take some pictures. I was happy enough just zooming in on the beautiful thing way off in the distance.

Never dreamed it would walk across the whole field…
…right over to the fence
…and stand right in front of me
…which I took as a sign of kinship—it obviously felt my donkey-loving vibes.
A very happy Dr. Dolittle moment.
Then it did this.
Followed by this.
Being smitten, I chose to take this as a message of welcome, good humour and a general attempt at communication (though I’ve been told it’s more likely a message of If you haven’t got any carrots would you mind getting off my property or you’ll leave me no choice but to do my famous cougar move…)

Which is exactly the kind of donkey you want to have.

more than just stuff

~ carin ~ 1 Comment

In 1947 Mr. and Mrs. Albert A. Walker of Whitby, Ontario, sent a box of local honey to Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip as a gift for their (Nov.20th) wedding. Just a bit of trivia I recently stumbled upon but which got me thinking about some of the very peculiar things Peter and I received for our wedding and how, really, in many cases we would have preferred honey.

Which got me thinking about gift giving in general and how we choose what we choose and how you can always tell the ‘real’ gifts from the ones that were purchased just in the nick of time. And the clue is never in the cost or the size or the gift wrapping.

Which got me thinking about the upcoming gift season specifically. And how I’m so tired of stuff. Tired of getting it, giving it, moving it around, hauling boxes of it to the Sally Ann, putting even more into storage bins (that have to be purchased, which = more stuff), and above all, lamenting the fact you can no longer burn things in back yard oil drums in the manner my father once disposed of an entire living room suite.

So this year, inspired by the very clever and unpretentious Walkers, I’m giving as many non-stuff gifts as possible (although, admittedly, I do love picking up bits for people throughout the year and especially on snowy nights in December).

IN ANY CASE, ON MY NON-STUFF LIST SO FAR:

Donkeys (sponsored ones from The Donkey Sanctuary of Canada); who wouldn’t want a little donkey in their stocking? 

Backyard Bird Counting Kits  from Bird Studies Canada.  I just love this idea. BSC is grateful for the birdy info over the winter months and what a fun activity for the whole family to get people away from the you-know-what long enough to realize that ohmygodlookthere’s wildlifeinthebackyard!

An IOU for a month of fresh produce from a local CSA farmer. CSA has become hugely popular at my local market where, every week through the growing season, there’s a long line of baskets for ‘members’ filled with the best of whatever’s ready for picking at that time. You never know what your order will be from week to week, kind of like a veggie grab bag, which makes it fun. And it’s always the very best quality. No seconds. (CSA farmers are in markets all over rural and urban Ontario. A perfect gift. Better even than honey.)

A lynx, a wolf, a great horned owl… from Aspen Valley Wildlife Sanctuary, where all the animals have been rescued from one horrific situation or another. Bears have been taken out of bad circus acts; lions out of homes that purchased the cubs as pets; wildlife hurt by cars or guns or traps. If they’re lucky, wild animals in need end up at Aspen Valley where they’re rehabilitated with the goal of being returned to their natural homes. If return to the wild isn’t possible, they live on hundreds of acres and acres of open spaces in as natural a setting as can be provided. A brilliant place to spend an afternoon. No glitz or glam. These people, in their wellies and windbreakers, are the real deal in their appreciation and understanding of animals. Definitely not a petting zoo. But if you’re interested in learning, or teaching your kids, about animals in a real (non entertainment, non-zoo-ish way), it makes for one great outing. (Note: if you go, bring a box of old towels, blankets or pillows, or various other items they’d be grateful to have. Check the website.)

Subscriptions to Canadian magazines. Despite ever lowering numbers, there’s a brilliant distilled-to-the-best selection out there. (From a subscription brochure recently received, I counted close to 150 in English, and over 40 in French.) 

Gift certificates to local restaurants. (I’m thinking small increments, tucked into a Xmas card for people I want to just give a little something to; better than a Timmy’s card because Timmy’s is doing fine. Plus I like the idea of community support and maybe even introducing someone to their soon to be new favourite place.)

Always baskets of preserves.

Always art.

Always books.

And honey of course.

~

P.S. Happy Anniversary to the merry Windsors. Wonder what they’ll be giving each other—A handwritten note promising a month of back rubs? Dinner and a game of charades with the kids? Or maybe they’ll just cosy up by the fire together, reminisce and drink heavily…