Ingonish Inspiration

Today my friends and I in our little sketching group decided to put some of our paintings up for sale at our local hospital art gallery. For the past several years we have been talking about art, working on paintings together, taking classes and going on sketching trips. We finally decided we were ready to try exhibiting some of our work

We're not professionals, but there are many other amateur painters who exhibit and sell. The nice thing about the venue where we put our work is that a good percentage will go to our local hospital if we sell.

Here's one of my paintings. It's 12 x 16 and done in acrylics, a medium I enjoy working in. I based it on a photo I took on a trip to Ingonish in Cape Breton. I call it "Ingonish Inspiration" as the cape in the background is in actuality somewhat different from that perspective. Yet, Cape Smoky is not too far from Ingonish, so I I have taken some artistic license to include it. In my painting I've tried to capture something of the sound of the ocean pounding against the rocks. The morning is cool, clear and crisp and I am finding the contrast of sold rock and gentle waves lapping in against warm sand mesmerizing. 

The Cat From Hell

The alarm is sounded: "there's orange kitty again!" and the chase is on! The daily battle of wills - or wits - begins. I cannot believe the two year old cat that visits our yard and deck constantly in his daily hunt for birds! He is totally impervious to "scat, shoo, get lost kitty!" and even the garden hose on jet stream dows nothing to discourage him. He sits under a tree near the deck and watches the finches at the feeders until we chase him away. A few minutes later he is back We have taken to tossing an old running shoe at him, and even though we miss by a mile, that does cause him to go running across the yard. As he nears his owner's property he stops, sits down and proceeds to lick himself - the manner can only be interpreted as pure insolence. Oh yes, he belongs to one of the immediate neighbours.

What to do? Complaints fall on deaf ears - "he's just being a cat." Apparently there are by-laws against nuisance animals and if a complaint is laid the animal control people will come out and trap the animal humanely. The owners will then be asked to keep their animal on their own property or risk having it permanently picked up. But no one wants to make the 'official' complaint; we must think of the neighbours' feelings. If "good fences make good neighbours" I think an even better adage should be "people who take responsibility for their animals make good neighbours"!

Speaking of Marathons

One usually thinks of marathons in terms of running or skiing or cycling or something physically taxing. I just participated in a three day bridge tournament that had all the earmarks of a marathon written all over it! Can three days of sitting at a bridge table playing cards be physically tiring? Yes, when you aren't getting enough sleep because your brain is working overtime! Yes, when the event is competitive!

The yearly tournament I participated in on the weekend was a "sectional" sponsored by my local and we had some 600-plus tables of bridge played on the weekend involving over 150 players from around our area. In the world of duplicate bridge there are club level games, then sectionals, followed by regionals, the "CAN-AT" and then the NABC tournaments that are North American wide and attract thousands of players for week long events. The next big NABC is going to be in Hawaii and some of the players from here are making plans to go. What fun! To participate in something you have a passion for and have a vacation in Hawaii at the same time!

So what attracts these players? Some (few) just play for the fun of it, but most of those going to tournaments are after masterpoints. Collecting specific numbers of masterpoints equates to various levels of achievement. Different coloured points are needed to move from level to level. Black points are collected at club games, silver at sectionals, red at regionals and gold at the NABC's. Occasionally there is a "STAC game - sectional tournament at the club level" or a "Gold" game at the club level, but they are quite rare. If players want their red or gold points they have to go to the bigger tournaments. Keeps things hopping all right!

So, a player moves up from rookie to junior master to sectional master, to regional master and then to life master. Achieving "life master" status is considered a major achievement but there are levels beyond - bronze, silver, gold and diamond. Before the weekend tournament I had enough points for 'regional master' but I needed a couple more silver points to achieve that status. I'm not sure, but I think I just may have earned enough in Sunday's team event! Here's hoping!

Pears

I am experimenting with pictures and picture sizes. I have resized this picture and I hope for some feedback that it is OK. Thanks, Agneta, if you are checking on it!

Golden Days

Every year at this time a wonderful quote I once read always comes to mind. Archibald Lampman wrote in Harper's Magazine in September, 1893: "Thus without grief the golden days go by, So soft we scarcely notice how they wend, And like a smile half happy, or a sigh, The summer passes to her quiet end."

Today was one of those golden days. It was warm and sunny and there was no wind. I went for a walk and took a series of pictures that seemed to capture some of the beauty of the day. I visited an orchard and took some pictures of pears hanging from the trees. I then went on a walk through a lovely nature trail that the owners of one of the farm markets near me have developed through their woods and orchards. I noticed a few red and yellow leaves here and there and masses of goldenrod and wild asters everywhere. Returning to my yard, I saw that my neighbour's sunflowers were all turned my way, so it seemed like a good idea to capture them! 

My Garden

Another picture for practice!

My garden is showing "end of summer" signs now, but it has been a lovely season for gardening here in Nova Scotia.

Annapolis Valley Apple Orchard

The other day my book discussion group met at a wonderful locale: a working farm in the Annapolis Valley with animals and abundant peach and apple orchards. I took this picture from my car window as I drove along the country lane towards the house. The decorative rural mailbox with the house number and name do look perfect under the apple tree. 

Out of the Wreckage

I have just finished reading The Wreckage by Michael Crummey and my book discussion group meets this week to talk about it. My first thought is that there will be some people put off by the language, but I can't say that I found that disturbing. Like most books written today there is an emphasis on realism. Without looking at any book reviews or hearing comments from others, I would like to set out here my own thoughts on the book.

I found Crummey's first novel River Thieves a fine read, an interesting piece of historical fiction and a gripping novel. I think The Wreckage suffers a bit by comparison: I had a difficult time getting into it and the historical detail, although there, is sketchier. But the wonderful third part of the book makes up for the earlier slow going: I found it totally engrossing.

In the last part of the book Crummey sets the scene beautifully in the wreckage of Little Fogo Island; here, where only sheep now come to graze in the summer, the truth comes out. I found myself moved to tears as Mercedes and Wish, the pair of long-separated teenage lovers, come together as seniors to dance the dance of memory and renewal after some fifty years of lives lived very differently but each with their pain and hardship.

The wreckage of Little Fogo Island mirrors the wreckage that is Wish Furey and, more subtly, Mercedes Parsons. Wish recalls an old prayer, "take away my heart of stone," and we wonder can he be rehabilitated? can he ever feel again? love again? can he believe in God ever again? Throughout the book we have come to know of the fierce love and loyalty of Mercedes but will it be enough to handle the truth of Nagasaki, Wish's secret guilt? More subtly, Mercedes is "wrecked": no longer the teenage beauty, her plump matronly body, gray hair and broken face are only the outward reminders of a bitterness she seems to be holding onto since the death of her older cherished daughter and the disappointment of a younger daughter who only irritates her. Will Wish see through it to find the spirited girl he once knew? For both, will the choices made long ago be, if never fully understood, at least forgiven?

A wonderful ending with the crazy Aunt Lilly who brings that moment of laughter and acceptance that it is a mad, mad world and all you can do is laugh at the absurdity of it all, move out of the wreckage and grab onto whatever bit of happiness and love you can find for whatever time you have left.

Labour and Leisure

Just a few thoughts on Labour Day with the weekend just passed. I've often thought it wasn't called "Labour Day" for nothing - it seemed that it was always the weekend for work, work, work! Cleaning up the cottage, last minute back-to-school buying, getting back home, having that last end-of-summer barbeque - whatever - everyone seemed busy. This past weekend was no exception for us - we had wood to stack, a yard and garden badly in need of sprucing up and so on with the chores. But, I am thinking, why are we retired people, supposedly "the leisured," picking this weekend for all that work? It led me to thinking about the routines we all seem to want and need.

I read a quote by Phyllis McGinley that set me thinking. She wrote, "it is the leisured, I have noticed, who rebel the most at an interruption of routine." As I thought about that I realized that I was really preparing to get back to my fall retirement routine by doing the Labour Day weekend chores, just as I would be preparing for my career of classroom teaching in my working life. But, with one difference: this retirement routine is one I have chosen / selected. It is made up of a balance of activities that I enjoy or that enrich my life in some way (or at least I think they do when I don't become overwhelmed by too many commitments) - exercise, reading, writing, painting or quilting, bridge, volunteer work, house and garden, clubs and friends. I like this routine and I almost do "rebel" when it is interrupted by a long weekend!! In my working life, however, any interruption in the routine was welcomed with joy! Then, my routine was not a chosen one in the short term - it was regulated by timetables, pressures, stress, and almost minute-by-minute decision making. I guess that is the big difference. And looking back on it all, I think I will embrace my retirement routine with gratitude! MMM.....let's see now......should I pour that second cup of coffee before I head out? or should I just stop at Tim's?

Changing Routines

Does your routine change with the seasons or, like mine, change with the school year? I must still be there - in the classroom - because every September I am thinking of getting back to things and I am never fully ready to leave my summer "vacation." In the next few weeks my fall activities will get going again: next week my book discussion group meets and I haven't started reading my book; the week after my writing group meets and I haven't started writing my piece; my twice weekly bowling begins the middle of September and I'm not ready to give up my golf; the Wednesday night meetings start again and I'm not in the mood to give up my Wednesday evening bridge game. The funny part is that as soon as I get into the fall routine I will miss having to give it up for the Christmas break!!