Harvest!

Flowers of the sun

They're baaaack!

The Feuerwerk, Debarao, Lemon Boy and Grape tomatoes are ready and this lady is beyond happy about that. Let the gorging begin! Can't wait for the other three heirloom plants to start ripening. They're soooo close.

The very first Feuerwerk of the season. Note the 7 feet tomato plants in the background!


Tomato + Basil sandwiches = pure and utter bliss

Will Feral & the radishes.

We are now the (somewhat) proud parents of a very feral cat. We've been calling him a bunch of things, but mostly Simon, Will Feral, and Chicken. Perfectly decent names. He showed up in our yard a few weeks ago and hasn't really left except for his nightly prowls. I'm a sucker for strays, so I'm feeding him regularly, making sure he's well hydrated and having him neutered next week. He's shy, cranky, and extremely hissy, but I can't seem to get enough of the little fellow. There's plenty of room and shady spots for him in the yard and he keeps the mice away and the finches have stopped eating the spinach. Bonus! Plus, he always photobombs my garden shots, which is kind of adorable.

Toronto Cat Rescue has been a great source of information and advice. If you want to help them by sponsoring a rescued cat click here.

Falling hard.

Fall is my most favourite season. The crispness, the cozy, the colour, it's all so satisfying and makes me swoon. The colder weather doesn't seem to be deterring our garden in the least. It's the best feeling to be able to walk into the yard, midway through October, and see this:















Arugula is still going strong.

And the mizuna too!

We've got tomatoes coming out the wazoo.

Check out the garden haul I got the other day. So naturally, huevos rancheros were in order. My favourite! Jean made this amazing roasted corn salsa to go with them. Crazy good. Next up: chili, gazpacho, tomato sauce and spicy tomato jam.

Thinking of you. Always.

Jean's dad, André, would have been 80 today. My heart hurts.



I'm posting some pictures of André's incredibly beautiful and peaceful garden and yard in Ancaster. His garden was a true inspiration to me, and still is. These were taken close to three years ago. I see him in every one of these images. In every sun flare, every bit of dappled light, every blade of grass, every soft petal and each and every speck of earth. And when Jean and I are working in our garden, we can feel him. It is so comforting. We miss you and love you André. So very much.










Angela, thank you so much for introducing me to this poem. It resonates with me too.

Fern Hill
By: Dylan Thomas

Now as I was young and easy under the apple boughs
About the lilting house
and happy as the grass was green,
The night above the dingle starry,
Time let me hail and climb
Golden in the heydays of his eyes,
And honoured among wagons I was prince of the apple towns
And once below a time I lordly had the trees and leaves
Trail with daisies and barley
Down the rivers of the windfall light.

And as I was green and carefree, famous among the barns
About the happy yard and singing as the farm was home,
In the sun that is young once only,
Time let me play and be
Golden in the mercy of his means,
And green and golden I was huntsman and herdsman, the calves
Sang to my horn, the foxes on the hills barked clear and
cold,
And the sabbath rang slowly
In the pebbles of the holy streams.

All the sun long it was running, it was lovely, the hay
Fields high as the house, the tunes from the chimneys, it was
air
And playing, lovely and watery
And fire green as grass.
And nightly under the simple stars
As I rode to sleep the owls were bearing the farm away,
All the moon long I heard, blessed among stables, the
nightjars
Flying with the ricks, and the horses
Flashing into the dark.

And then to awake, and the farm, like a wanderer white
With the dew, come back, the cock on his shoulder: it was all
Shining, it was Adam and maiden,
The sky gathered again
And the sun grew round that very day.
So it must have been after the birth of the simple light
In the first, spinning place, the spellbound horses walking
warm
Out of the whinnying green stable
On to the fields of praise.

And honoured among foxes and pheasants by the gay house
Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways,
My wishes raced through the house high hay
And nothing I cared, at my sky blue trades, that time allows
In all his tuneful turning so few and such morning songs
Before the children green and golden
Follow him out of grace.

Nothing I cared, in the lamb white days, that time would
take me
Up to the swallow thronged loft by the shadow of my hand,
In the moon that is always rising,
Nor that riding to sleep
I should hear him fly with the high fields
And wake to the farm forever fled from the childless land.
Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means,
Time held me green and dying
Though I sang in my chains like the sea.