Feeling Nostalgic Archives - Page 6 of 7

Feeling Nostalgaic — Hearts Tied to a Tree

A friend of mine recently shared her feelings connected to the cutting down of a tree in her yard. I thought of paraphrasing her words, but she expressed her thoughts so beautifully, I couldn’t alter them. She wrote, “We lost a dear tree today, a beautiful green ash that stood eighty feet high. Years ago when our house was being built and all we had was a wooden shell that tree rose above the roofline and declared itself part of the house. It’s been a home for squirrels and birds and probably a raccoon here and there. It hurts that we lost it.” Continue reading “Feeling Nostalgaic — Hearts Tied to a Tree” →

July 15, 2014 7

Feeling Nostalgiac — The Milk House and the Farm Dog

This is one of my favourite childhood photos — sitting in front of the milk house with my grandfather. I was one year old at the time it was taken. The photo sits in a curio cabinet among other small treasures. I often stop to visit it there. When I close my eyes, I see the milk house as clearly as if I am in front of it now. Continue reading “Feeling Nostalgiac — The Milk House and the Farm Dog” →

June 17, 2014 4

Hairs the Story of a Small Town Salon

My first job, not in a farm setting, was — shampoo girl. The salon, simply named Marie’s, was in a house located a few blocks away from my high school. Patrons would walk up the driveway, tap on the side door and let themselves in. A little bell hung above the entrance to announce their arrival. Continue reading “Hairs the Story of a Small Town Salon” →

May 20, 2014 18

Bicycle Bliss

The kiss of spring is in the air and once again, I am yearning to ride my bicycle. Even if it is raining today, I’ll fill up the tires and take it for a spin. There is something wonderful about sitting high in saddle and feeling the wind against your cheek. Continue reading “Bicycle Bliss” →

April 8, 2014 13

Feeling Nostalgic — The Promise of Spring

“Shall we survey the property?” This is a little joke we share, my husband and I. The invitation suggests that we might be endeavouring to review the status of a few acres of farmland. This is not the case. But still, we pull on some rubber boots and head to the backyard, which remains streaked by patches of ice and snow. We walk, with hands clasped behind our backs, hemming and hawing and calling out to each other when a pleasing discovery is made. Continue reading “Feeling Nostalgic — The Promise of Spring” →

April 1, 2014 11

Life Lessons from the Farm

My grandparent’s farm was my first classroom. The lessons learned have stayed with me through the years and woven themselves into the fabric of my history. Continue reading “Life Lessons from the Farm” →

March 25, 2014 11

March 14, 2014 0

My Garden is a Scrapbook

My love of winter is giving way to my longing for spring. Like so many, I’m looking forward to the bursting of forth of colour and new life that follows blue skies and warmer temperatures.

As the snow recedes, I’ll begin the annual tradition of searching for signs of life around the yard. Buds will appear on the lilacs. The snowdrops and crocuses will poke through the snow. It will be some time before the tulips make their appearance and even later before blooms appear on the pear tree. With any luck, the espalier style plum trees fanning against the cedar fence, are preparing to bear fruit this summer. The garlic shoots will already piercing the blanket of mulch still covered over by snow. Continue reading “My Garden is a Scrapbook” →

March 7, 2014 12

The Meaning of Hands

Hands are a living narrative written by a lifetime of use. There is a story recorded in every weathered crease, a lament in every callous and an anecdote in every scar. Our hands have toiled and cared for others. They’ve admonished and loved. They’ve conveyed exasperation, underscored points of debate, wiped away tears, and applauded revelry. They’ve held on and they’ve let go. Continue reading “The Meaning of Hands” →

February 25, 2014 7

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