crooked house

Happy Spring Kindle Deals!

Happy Spring, everyone! Did you check out the Google doodle? If not, go have a look. I'll wait.

As I was walking up the hill after dropping Sylvie off at preschool this morning, I noticed it felt a little warmer than usual, which isn't difficult when the "usual" has been -10 degrees Celsius,  and commented to the dad walking beside me, "You can feel spring in the air."

He responded in a voice more fit for a charismatic church than polite chitchat, a kind of joyous bellow: "It's HERE! I can FEEL it!"

I almost shouted " Hallelujah! Amen, brother!" and briefly considered dropping to my knees in the mud but figured that might be going a bit far, so I smiled and got in my car. When I turned it on, Vivaldi's "Spring" was playing on the radio. So all in all, it was a nice start to the day.

And now I've noticed that Amazon has some great deals to celebrate the first day of spring: they're offering five books by Italo Calvino at $1.99 each. And then, you really put you in the spring mood, they're offering The Backyard Homestead: Produce All the Food You Need on Just a Quarter Acre! and The Backyard Homestead Guide to Raising Farm Animals: Choose the Best Breeds for Small-Space Farming, Produce Your Own Grass-Fed Meat, Gather Fresh Eggs, ... Rabbits, Goats, Sheep, Pigs, Cattle, & Bees for $1.79 each, as well as some similar gardening/nature books, at similar prices. Don't you just feel like getting out a shovel and going crazy in the mud today? Even if it means having to remove a layer of snow first?

The Elusive Antlered Hoof

Why, what is that, hanging above the mantle at legendary Milford House? Can it be?

Why, yes, it is. It is the infamous, elusive, antlered hoof! A beast hitherto considered fanastical, like the unicorn. Those antlers must be as sensitive as the whiskers of a cat, or the antennae of an insect, because they have to perform the functions of eyes, nose, and tongue. Or do you think that this unusual creature actually does have a more usual sort of head, and each of its hooves has a pair of antlers attached to it? If so, the beast must have a very broad stance. It is a mystery.

Glitter Pumpkins

We went away for a few days over this Thanksgiving weekend to a cottage in the woods. We took along these small white pumpkins, some glue, and golden glitter to make this little glitter pumpkin project. (I was trying to think of things to keep the kids busy since there was no television or internet where we were going.)

All you do is paint the tops of the pumpkins with ordinary school glue and then sprinkle glitter all over them. It's very easy, even for someone Sylvie's age. Luke enjoyed it, too.

 

It kept them busy for all of five minutes! (The glitter is very glamping, don't you think?)

Reenactment of the Burning of the Young Teazer

Last night at the Pirate Festival in Mahone Bay, they reenacted the burning of the American privateer the Young Teazer in 1813 during the War of 1812 (the war both Canada and the U.S. think they won). A larger British ship chased the Teazer into the bay where it got trapped. The Teazer's first mate, who had been captured by the British before and had been released on his gentleman's promise that he would no longer fight against them, decided he wasn't going to be taken alive -- he would surely have been hanged -- so he blew the Teazer up.

That orb hanging in the sky to the right of the ship was a giant orange harvest moon. (I have never been able to photograph incredible moons very well.s Who knows the trick?)

There were a group of enthusiastic Loyalist reenactors on the wharf next to us, firing off authentic cannons in the direction of the "burning" ship. Their leader told us our hearing would probably not be affected if we covered our ears and kept our mouths slightly open. It was one of those moments when one questions one's parenting decisions. Not only was this event taking place well past both the children's bedtimes, but it might also permanently damage their hearing. (We had a moment like that last weekend, too, when we gave permission for both Luke and Sylvie to hand-feed unshelled almonds to a black bear at Oaklawn Farms in the valley. I remember hoping this wouldn't be remembered by the children as the moment of gross negligence on our part that resulted in a life-long handicap but it turned out just fine. Immediately after feeding Blueberry, Luke said, "This is the best vacation ever!" It could have gone either way. Sometimes you just have to take a chance.*)

So last night I wrapped a blanket around Vivi's head and instructed her to use her hands to cover her ears over that. Luke also covered his ears. After a couple of blasts, which caused the dog next to us to run away from his people in sheer terror, Vivi fell deeply asleep and slept through the rest of the cacophony.

For a little while I worried that the first blast had rendered her completely deaf and so immune to the rest of the blasts but her hearing is just fine today.

*I promise, it really wasn't as risky as all that.

Giveaway: Tickets for Four to the Movie ParaNorman

Alliance Films has offered Crooked House readers in Nova Scotia a chance to win free tickets for a family of four to a pre-screening of the 3D animated film "ParaNorman"  at 10am, August 11 at Empire Theatres in Bayer's Lake.

In "ParaNorman," (from the makers of the Academy Award-nominated "Coraline") a small town comes under siege by zombies. Who can it call? Only misunderstood local boy Norman, who is able to speak with the dead. In addition to the zombies, he'll have to take on ghosts, witches and, worst, of all, grown-ups, to save his town from a centuries-old curse. But this young ghoul whisperer may find his paranormal activities pushed to their otherworldly limits. The film is rated PG13. From the trailer, I'd guess it might be most appropriate for older kids and tweens.

I have four sets of four tickets to give away! Count 'em, FOUR! Readers, the odds are in your favour! To enter, please leave a comment below this post. The winners will be chosen on Friday, August 10th.

A Crooked House in Harbourville, Nova Scotia

We spent the weekend on the other side of the province. One of our stops was a tiny village on the Bay of Fundy called Harbourville, pop. 100 , where we happened upon this crooked house, which you can rent for a vacation stay. We were going to eat at the Schnitzelhaus but it was closed the evening we were there.

Harbourville is really gorgeous and it's difficult to do the place justice in photos. It's the kind of place where you have to stand and slowly turn round in a circle in order to take it all in. And then you walk a little way and stop and do the spin again.

We arrived at low ride, which is why those two boats are sitting way down there on the ground. Just six hours later they would be floating above the water mark, as the Bay of Fundy has the highest tides in the world. We will definitely go back for to stay for a night or two, so we can explore the beaches, caves, and cliffs more fully and witness the dramatic change in the water level firsthand.

The Crooked House Becomes Slightly Less Crooked

The roof of our front porch has been sagging in the middle for a couple of years now. Here, Robert digs out the rotten wood.

He's replaced a couple of beams, a lot of pieces of wood, and re-roofed that section and half of the main roof.

The crooked house is becoming slightly less crooked, or at least the front of it is. To the tune of a two-week family vacation in Disney World. (I am less upset if I imagine giving up a Disney vacation than, say, one in Europe.)

Jennah Barry's Slow Dance

I remember when Jennah was tiny, running around the church during sermons. I have my suspicions she may have inspired a character in William Gilkerson's excellent Pirate's Passage, set in Mahone Bay.

Luke Caught His First Fish!

Give a boy a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a boy to fish and you feed him for a lifetime. Give your sister a fish and freak her out with the glare of its glassy dead eyes. Somebody better teach your mother how to prepare and cook a fish from scratch if you keep this up, kid. (I am quite impressed -- I do not think I have ever caught a fish.)

Rite of Spring: Mayflowers

Nicholas Roerich, Kiss to the Earth.

On Sunday we went looking for mayflowers. They're called mayflowers but they come out in April here in Nova Scotia, at the tail end of winter. Their tiny pink and white blossoms, so delicate in comparison to the thick hairy brown stems and broad rusty leaves that protect them, smell heavenly -- sweet, wild and, beyond that, indescribable. Finding them -- and you can only find them in the wild  -- means that it is definitely spring.

Luke, unconvinced that mayflowering would be very exciting, brought his Lego Ninjago sword, which he used to fight off a number of invisible monster skeletons he happened upon. He also explained to me, as I peered into the underbrush looking in vain for tiny pink and white buds, that just the sight of his sword would be sure to terrify any bears we might stumble across, as surely at least a few of their ancestors must have been killed by swords. I nodded and kept looking for mayflowers, wondering how the bears might've communicated this ancestral fear of swords to their children. Sylvie, pushed along in her stroller by her father, bounced over tree roots and babbled about owls.

After some fruitless searching, we came out onto the hiking trail that has been made out of a defunct railway line. Luke and Vivi, who by now had tumbled out of her stroller, started to lag behind and to complain. Grampa's sharp eyes managed to discover three tiny unopened mayflower buds on the side of the trail. "Maybe it's still too early," I said and suggested that we make a quick detour to the nearby town graveyard, to see the children's grandmother's grave, before going on to the playground.

Luke's grandfather's name and birthdate are inscribed to the left of his grandmother's but of course, as Grampa is still with us, there is only a smooth empty space where the date of his death would go. "Who knows? Who knows? Who knows?" said Luke cheerfully, as  he pointed one by one at the blanks where the month, day, and year will be.

Vivi caught sight of a small gravestone carved in the shape of a teddy bear. She ran off toward it. I went after her, to make sure she didn't take any of the flowers away. It was the grave of an 8-month-old baby. "We love you, silly bird" was inscribed along the bottom. Sylvie giggled and stumbled away in her bumble bee boots. I followed her, looking down at my feet, my eyes suddenly filled with sunlight and tears. And there, in the dead brown grass all around the children's grandmother's grave, were dozens of mayflowers.

 

Thank you, Gramma Linda.