My Way of Living:
summer fun

As the Gingerbreadman vainly tried to fight off overly emotional baristas and egotistical, surly flight attendants, his tribulations soon got lost as he entered the airspace of the world's largest city, a southern paradise beckoning to him like a sub-zero Coke on a sweltering summer afternooon.

So before it came to this... ..

He had to pass through this... ...

Davao Cab from Airport. GBM. I can't believe I'm finally here. Haven't been here in a year. It's been too long. Last time it was work work work. Now I want to have fun fun fun. Cab driver is conversing with me in the vernacular. Only my proficiency in Cebuano is equivalent to that of a 3rd grader. Okay he's frowning now I think I just said something offensive. Why do I even try? I'm here early, stupid Cebu Pacific had no flights nearer to my boat ride. Wow they still have non-airconditioned taxis here. How... arcane :) Wha.. What's that Mr. Cabbie? Dapit na dong? What's a dapit? What's a dong? Are you cursing me? !@$%%

I find t hese Manila people to be extremely strange With nothing to do until 1:30, GBM was prevailed upon to check out the local sights to burn time. Quickly googling "fun davao spots" unfurled the premiere shopping place in Davao... . Aldevinco Center, GBM Wow, what will I do with sarongs and earrings? And tribal headgear? Next! This is not my place... . Further queries brought about Crocodile Farm, a sortie which did not quite pick his fancy because he had already visited the previous year. In addition, an inherent disdain for 1,000 lb crocodiles ensured that no return trips would be commencing in the near future. Running out of options, a familiar jaunt emerged as a safe haven amidst this unfamiliar land. SM Davao, GBM Wow! I'm in civilization! The SM here looks so... . so... .. the same! So many Mang Inasals! KFC! Kenny! Just like... .. Manila. Hmm... . Nothing spectacular here. Well at least it ain't hot here, it's sweltering outside. Hey they have bottomless greaseless chicken! Did you hear that? Who would have known there was such a thing! I AM IN HEAVEN (@,@) It's the greatest thing ever! I am not making this up. Yum. I heart Davao. *burp*

Best Deal in Town

YUM YUM YUM Davao Marina, 1:30 pm. As the hour neared, his belly filled with greaseless chicken amidst the respite of a cool summer breeze, our protagonist reached the designated pick up point where he would be taking a boat ride to his late summer getaway. A simple wharf was expected, but instead this was the sight that met him... .

Great, they have their own mini-resort as a holding area. Amazing. Very impressive. Okay so now the boat is here. Not a yacht, but the speedboat aint bad at all. So now the journey to paradise begins... .

UA&P, GBM's desk. Present- Day Hi there my dear reader/friend.This is Luis right here. Yes, Gingerbreadman. GBM. Whatever. And yes, I'm talking to you. Breaking the 4th wall again. Thanks for the support in following the story up to this point. I know your time is precious and valuable, that's why I make it as entertaining as possible for you. As you're immersed in our narrative, you do know that here in The Gingerbread Report we try to do things differently. We try to share experiences in unconventional ways. So what usually happens at this point is I would relate how wonderful my vacation was, or how awesome the beach was blah blah. Yeah. That's the norm. But hey, just in the spirit of differentiation that we oftentimes espouse, I'll just stop there. I won't bother telling you about our living arrangements... .

Or their fancy floating bar...

I will not regale you with stories of how close the beach was to my place...

Nor will I bore you with canned anecdotes about how awesome the scenery was... .

I will not even attempt to tell you about that cool electric cart we used...

Or share something irrelevant, like how I am a new infinity pool convert... .

I will not even BEGIN to say how much it rocked to just bum around.

And above all... .. How much it rocked to run on the beach...

I won't even go into any of these things, for the simple reason that... .. It would've been infinitely more special if you were there to share the experience with me. :)

Hi there everybody. What's up? My name is Rain. And I'm convinced ... . that runners hate me. Days like these, I just want to go out and hang around. This is my time of the year. Do you realize how booooring it could be when my good-for-nothing sister dominates the scene? You know, Summer? She thinks she's sooooooo hot. Well, uh, um, I have to agree. She thinks she's all that. But I've seen people around these parts. They hate her. Curse her very presence in the vernacular. ( sample : !@#$ ang init sa Pilipinas!) Promise! But enough about her. This is my time, and I revel in bringing smiles to the denizens of this metropolis. See those kids jumping up and down the street? They like me! See those little men in weird hats in the fields? They thrown parties when I get here! I even see movie stars dance for me in one of them box-office blockbusters. Boy that was a riot. Sarah Geronimo is so cute. Sigh. It feels so good to be loved.

Would have been perfect. Save for one group I can't seem to get a grip on. Runners. They abhor my very presence. I don't even know what I did wrong. I'll give you guys an example. It's a wonderful Tuesday afternoon, and I'm just going out for a walk. My perfect day is ruined by this dude in shorts waaay tooo short and a watch waaay to big for his own good. Why the forlorn look? He looks so crabby. Whiny even. Ohhh. Must be a runner. Oh. I know this guy. He works in that place where there are a lot of young people. He wears those long flowing things that look like curtains. Wears a cap everytime he runs. Maybe because his hair is horrible. Maybe he just likes to hide his face. Hmph. But yeah. He hates me. He's grumbling to what looks like a big fat cat. Oh, it's a dog. A big fat dog. Geez what do they feed this thing. My bad. No wonder they're called man's best friend. They just keep on listening. Hmm. Anyway, this dude wants to run, but he doesn't like me around. He looks so... down. Check him out... I'm convinced... ..

Looks pretty down eh? And of course the blame goes all back to me. He whines. He whines because his clothes are drenched, because his socks in his fancy gait-analyzed shoes would get wet. He sardonically thanks the gods for his good fortune. Hmph. I hope his watch breaks down. He runs along as I observe. He steps unto a puddle , !@#$ is what you hear. This guy needs to get out more. He is putting his hands behind his back so that his fancy watch won't get wet. Like it won't. Read the manual buddy! IPX7! Submersible! 1 meter! Even I know that! He runs into this really fast dude. I see him all the time as well, seems to be from around here. I mean, he is fast. So they run together, he manages to keep up for like 2k, then really fast dude is gone. Guess what? He blames me for not being able to keep up! Runners.

Oh the horror! The nerve! That really upset me. Upset me to the point that I cried so hard. No one has maltreated me like that. Ever! I cried my heart out because I didn't even do anything. *Sob* Then something unbelievably incredible happened. Mr. evil runner guy, in solitary mode because the fast bald dude made him eat dust, suddenly smiled amidst my sorrow. That took me by surprise. I could almost hear his thoughts as his soaked persona glided through the drenched alleyways of his favorite training jaunt... ... .

Yeah. Why did I even do this. Stupid Rain. I will be sooo sick later. The Garmin's probably messed up. I am completely drenched. My socks feel gross. Dang I really had to catch Javy aka Tri'n Hard on tempo run/fartlek day. He's on a totally different level. And because of the rain, my projected 20k mileage builder turned into a 7k race pace run. I'm exhausted. Out of shape. It's the rain's fault. Should have done the Sarah/John Lloyd rain dance. Since Sunday. It won't go away. Had to cancel all my runs. I'll get sick eh. Daw. At least that's what the old people said. But you know what? This is actually... .. fun! I feel like a kid again. It's so cold. I feel so relaxed. Why am I so scared about getting sick? It's just water anyway. The old folks just like to scare you I guess. But hey, I am genuinely enjoying this .

Everyone is running for cover and they're all looking at me like I'm some crazy lunatic but hey, I don't care. This is strangely... therapeutic... ... I never realized. You see a microcosm of the metropolis - the hustle going yin/yang against the bustle of our mundane lives, all seemingly frozen in time as a virtual snapshot is encapusulated in a single raindrop. Awesome.Everything seems to be moving in slow motion amidst the deluge. I am in conplete control, freedom of movement married to a psyche completely bereft of any negativity at that precise moment. I feel... . alive.

Sigh. Just when I had counted him out. People. I could never figure them out.

My name is Rain. And I'm convinced... ...

That runners don't hate me after all.

What is it about Baguio and pine trees? The summer capital of the Philippines usually evokes memories of the unmistakeable aroma of pine, an aroma that in turn triggers memories of fun summers, inebriated nights, and forlorn romances. Indeed, this northern getaway could symbolize a whole lot of different things for a whole lot of different people. During my latest jaunt there, the time came to nurture a Baguio experience of a different kind - my first road race in the City of Pines!

An Unlikely Gig The whole trip started innocuously enough - majority of the gang was disenfranshised by the lack of slots to TNF and we were lacking a weekend gig. Out of what seemed like divine providence, coach Pojie suddenly mentioned that Botak was organizing a Baguio race, the idea floated to him by Craig of Team Logan. With the recent beating the Botak brand has taken amongst running denizens, the announcement was met with a certain degree of apprehension. These fears were quickly allayed when it was mentioned that the race was being handled by a different organizer. From that point on, everything seemed like a blur. Before we knew it, ageless resto magnate/speedster/overall good guy Bong was already taking care of the logistical preps for the group. And thus the adventure begins... .. Carbo- Loading in the Cold Craig offered to organize a Carbo Loading Party or CLP at his Baguio abode the Friday before the race, much like the Takbo.ph CLP shortly before the Condura Run. Due to work constraints, I was prevailed upon to drive over on a Saturday, and it looks likeI missed a wonderful celebration. I promise I'll be there next time guys!

The Takbo.ph gang at the Logan home The Night Before The 5 hour drive going to Baguio was pleasant enough, the SCTEX doing wonders for what used to be an extremely cumbersome ride. After retreating to Baguio Burnham Suites, (shame less plug for my friend's hotel haha ) I went on to visit the Takbo.ph gang at Chelly's place where practically everyone was staying. I am in no way, shape or form an expert on Baguio roads, so suffice to say I got lost multiple times while looking for the place. After much tribulation and comprehensive directions from the police station (fine I gave up so sue me) I finally found the place!I was so happy to see the gang, the hard-core running addicts of my running team celebrating our sweeping point of commonality in such a remote and unlikely locale. We had quite the delegation! I was even offered some Bacardi! To put in my hydro belt! (They were kidding. I think.) After chilling with the gang, I left for my hotel with bright anticipation for the race that was to commence in a few hours.

Fun Takbo.ph times at Chelly's winter palace

Gal pals Julie and Carina hyped up for the race

21k virgin Edu chillin out

The Cranium set which provided the entertainment for the nightBaguio D-Day With roughly four hours of sleep, I trotted over to the starting line at Burnham Park near the pond. I was lucky that the hotel was pretty near, so I got a half-decent warmup run in chilly 16 degree weather. The gang was already there, excited yet anxious at the same time.

Ready to go to war in the chilly Baguio dawn

Let's get it on!!!!!The organizer was announcing all the running teams and clubs that came- a smattering from Manila and a handful of varsities from the prevailing locale. It seemed that the Takbo.ph delegation was the biggest from Manila. However, the biggest delegation was hands down from the PNP training corps , both their men's and women's squads were there. There also was some unintentional comedy involved as the organizers instructed the Takbo.ph team to come up the front of the line! Feeling elite! Haha :) At about 5:45 (15 minutes from the announced start time as we had "waited"for the police escorts) the starting gun went off. So here we go... .. On a Higher Plane Given the aniticipated difficulty of the course based from the group's feedback after their ocular the day before, we all adjusted our projected pace accordingly. I was pacing with Takbo.ph founder Jinoe, and we decided we should maintain a 6:30 pace for the first 10k.Once again, just the mere fact that I was racing in Baguio was so surreal for me. The chilly thin air, that unmistakeable aroma of pine, great company... . sunrise at 1500 feet... . Wow... ... It was AWESOME. Makes the 268 km ride from Manila (okay fine I measured it with my Garmin. Junkie.) all worth it. And just as I was starting to get a wee bit too comfy in my utopian dream scenario, a rapid 3 km downhill descent that we were running at 5:20 pace gave us an ominous portent of things to come. As all runners reaching turnaround points know... . what goes down... must eventually go up. Gulp. It's The Hardest Thing At the 10k turnaround point and requisite 1 minute walk/water break, me and Jinoe were trying to mentally prepare oursleves for the drudgery that were going up against. We tried for 1 km to run it, but the hills were just too much. We ended upusing a run/walk strategy, even surrendering a 10:00 minute split. Looking around, even the police cadets were walking. Damn, it must have been THAT hard. Check out the elevation courtesy of Jinoe's 405!

Homeward Bound Having survived that, we struggled to get our wits about us. We had surrendered nearly a full minute from our pace and we needed to make up for lost ground in a hurry. So what we did, we used a group of gruff cadets as a pace group, and they hurtled through the return route at a 5:20 pace. We struggled to keep up and thankfully our second wind kicked in at this point. As we starting to catch some sort of coherent rhythm at this point, we realized that we were on the way back to Burnham already! The course was going to be short! As I sprinted towards the finish line at 2:01:43, the 10k runners of the Takbo.ph gang greeted me with a rapturous round of applause, sweet music to my ears after wining yet another battle of wills. Boss Jinoe soon followed suit, about 15 seconds behind by my estimate. The moment we had crossed the line, the kind lady organizer immediately asked how long did the race register on our Garmins. I told her, 18.16 on mine. She then went on to explain that the local government had them do emergency reroute because of some digging that was being done. While some may have thought that this was the latest Botak disaster, I felt that from a PR perspective her prompt, on-the-spot public announcement and apology was the best possible thing that could have been done. Shirking from the issue would have been disastrous. As a result, the discrepancy was more or less downplayed by the participants.

Sprinting with a smile towards the finish line

I conquered them hills!

18k? Easy!

Jinoe, Me, Mhel, Poj, and Doc Roy

Queenie getting her top-15 finish medal Final Thoughts Overall, it was probably one of the toughest races I have been part of. The 3k killer uphill stretch truly left little to the imagination ; if you think I exaggerate you should try it out for yourself. The cool weather, the tremendous locale and wonderful scenery made it all the more special. And hey, it's not like you could race the infamous uphills of the City of Pines every week right? As always, even if I wasn't there for their entire stay, the Takbo.ph team made the experience infinitely more special. I grabbed photos, sue me later :) If you want interactive map info of the race, check it out here - http://trail.motionbased.com/trail/player/8310795 What is it about Baguio and pine trees? What strong memories do these bastions of generations past evoke? Forlorn romances? Inebriated nights? I don't know about you, but I 'll never look at Baguio in the same way again.

You all know the story. We have heard the rants. Internalized the numerous streams of venom put forth by the angry masses. Admittedly, I am one of them. The lack of foresight caused 57 runners in my category to DNF, the scorching heat too much for them. We could only guess what medical malady befell them. The same lack of foresight had my friend overcome by heat stroke and hyperventilation 500 meters from the finish line, resulting in a 2 hour stint at Makati Med. Ironically, if only the course had been accurate he should have finished it straight up. If there's one saving grace, they released results which took into account the excess 500 - 600 m on the route. The resulting distance adjustment gave me a PR of 2:14:36, which I hazard compensates for the initial time lost. Anyway, here was my after-race take on the whole thing as posted on the Takbo.ph forums : As has been customary for me already (and the lack of a blog notwithstanding), here's a comprehensive post on my Botak 21k race. A fair amount of vitriol has already been spewed by Deo and supahatdog in the earlier posts, so I'll give you my take on it. The first warning sign for me was when I heard from the gang that the 21k start time was 6 am bigla. Only 2 days before I had called the Botak office and was informed of a 5 am start. So I was sort of weirded out by that. Everyone was getting conflicting information. So I decided I'll arrive at 5am just to be sure. I was alarmed because at 6am, people would be running well into the 8 am - 9 am range already. Would this be a portent of things to come? So we started at 6 am. 5:58 on my 305. Attempted to pace Sam for 5k, he fell back at 1 1/2 k mark. First k was 4:35, 2nd k was 5:02. He was the only guy I remotely ran with. 97% of the race I was alone

At 10k mark I was at 55:34 and liking my chances. Running in Rockwell was neat as well, kahit uphill siya. Coming off a pretty nice run the previous week at ATC, my goal was to significantly improve my Greenfield PR of 2:19 something. Then it happened. What happened? The heat happened. Yes, the heat. Good ol' 32 degrees with 66% humidity. I never knew what the desert felt like until awhile ago. It was crippling, debilitating, paralyzing (I'm running out of adjectives) to the point of hilarity. At the 10k mark I was maintaining a healthy 5:30 or so pace. By the time the race was over I had surrendered a full minute off that

So what happened to me from 10k to 16k? - Hookers in Burgos waved at me. I waved back. - Jeepneys in Burgos nearly sideswiped me. I couldn't sideswipe back. - The area near South avenue I got several seemingly innocuous comments of "Japorms" from fun bystanders. - I had at least 2 guys (21k dudes also) ask me "Bakit ang dami mong tali?" (Does this mean they either got lost or took a shortcut? Guess the race marshals took off for colder fronts) - I had agonizing km splits reaching up to 8:24

So sue me, I couldn't breathe anymore, it was like the oxygen was sucked out of the surroundings already. My original plan was to pick up the pace from the 17k mark onwards and "earn back" the pace I had lost. I was marginally, nominally successful at best. The heat and humidity were too much. The best I could muster with all my might was a 6:25, followed by mid 7's till the end. From the 16- 21 k mark these were the sights : - Runners fighting the people at the water stations because there's no water - Runners walking Kalayaan Flyover - Runners walking everywhere - Runners quitting and sitting on the curb to take a break. - "Ang init no?" entrenching itself as the unintentional comedy quote of the day. - An "elite" looking guy (crew cut, short shorts) paced by me at the 18k mark and asked, "May tubig ka ba?" in a seemingly imposing and authoritative way. So I um, gave him the Gatorade I was saving for my final push. He muttered what seemed like a rudimentary form of "thank you" and promptly sped off. Nice guy. With the sun in all its bedazzling glory, for the first time in my life I have felt how it was to run in a desert with no breathable air. My goals suddenly shifted from setting a PR to merely getting out of there in one piece. It was debilitating to say the least. A test of sheer will if you may. In the cornucopia of things that make up the runner's psyche, one has to think "Should I go for broke and risk collapsing, or should I just focus on survival?" I was feeling horrible, I thought I would pass out several times. Mentally, I was pushed to the very limit. The death zone from 19k - 21k had "QUIT" written all over it. In the end, prudence won out over glory. In spite of the crushing circumstances, I was somehow blessed to finish the race at 2:17:28 chopping off 2 mins and 20 seconds off my current 21k PR. I felt horrible. And to make matters worse, when I crossed the finish line a kid was running recklessly towards me, causing me to jump to avoid him. This in turn triggered a strain in my hammy I still feel as I am typing this. Final Thoughts? - I will never ever run a 21k race that starts at 6am during the summer. - Running with jeeps beside you is not fun at all - The course was 21.47 on my 305. That's nearly half a kilometer. A half kilometer that translates into 3-4 minutes lost on your time. Sayang naman. - I was super worried about Doc Roy, Doc Sherwin, and Coach Pojie for their 42k run, given the punishing conditions and no water support. I am so happy and proud that they finished it in one piece and got their medals Way to go guys! - Congratulations to Edu for setting a new 10 K PR taking it in 56 something and finally breaching the 57 mark! Good job! - I am proud that other 21k runners like Deo,Boss Rico, Tim, Bong and Sam among others fought through the punishing elements to finish. Lesser men would have quit.Your determination and will is something that makes us all proud.

I had great plans when we moved in here in February, they involved raised beds, fences, walkways, a pond, and structures galore. A cat play area for Bootsie, a herb garden just behind the kitchen door, and trellis to hide us from the neighbours. There I was out pacing off the garden beds in the snow, and trying to discover what lay under all of that white stuff.

I couldn’t wait, I had itchy green thumbs, plans were made, books were consulted, images were saved on Pinterest. I stockpiled bulbs, and seeds, purchasing them during the minus zero weather, and snow storms of the early months of pre spring. I stalked the roadside peering into bushes for signs of winter releasing it’s grip, and allowing buds to form. And then one day I looked out into the back yard, and realized that the sun had come around the side of the house, and it was sunny there instead of the shade I had thought we would have all summer.

That was the day I decided not to plan my garden for our new home… yet. That was the day I decided to wait for a full year, to see if the sun crept into crevices, turned corners, or if the wind howled through bushes. To see where the smoke from the BBQ winds it’s way down through the patio, because we won’t be sitting there. To find out if there are wasps, and mosquitoes that would hang out by a pond, and where the perfect place to hear the birds sing is. To find out where our natural pathways take us through the garden, those shortcuts that everyone would be taking whether or not there was a trail available.

Here is a list of reasons why I am waiting. 1. It’s overwhelming: With so many other projects to be done, I just can’t concentrate on planning a worthwhile garden this summer. We need to paint inside, make some changes, and just get settled. 2. I have a different climate: Planting up here is completely different then our last home, it’s drier, colder, and hotter. Xeriscaping gardening is the way to go. This winter was apparently a very easy one, with little snow, but it is lingering. What will a harsher winter do to all of my plants? Where will we pile all of the snow, will it be on the garden beds I might plan out. 3. It’s very expensive: Soil, gravel, structures, all of these cost money, a lot of money. We just moved, we need a chance to store up some allocated funds so that the job can be done properly. 4. I only want to make major changes once: If I take my time to plan and think this through we can always fine tune small details later, but if we make a mistake and place a bed in the wrong place, it’s a lot of work to change it. 5: I need to know where the sun hits, and for how long it stays: It’s only March, and already the sun is filling the entire back yard, but will it continue all summer?

So although it might seem that my plans are put on hold indefinitely they are not. I will still continue to garden, plan, and observe. I will just take my time, and the wait will be worth it,

Frugality: fru·gal adj.

The quality of being frugal, sparing, thrifty or economical in the use of consumable resources and avoiding waste, lavishness or extravagance. Not cheap, just frugal, it’s fun. Really it is. Trust me… Last summer I used the clothesline instead of the dryer to dry our laundry on, and ended up with a allergic reaction to pollen and dust that caused itchy rashes for weeks.

Then I started to make my own yogurt and if that’s not a scientific experiment ready to go wrong, I am not sure what is. The first time it was nerve racking to pour that much milk into the slow cooker, did I not mention that we make it in the slow cooker? It’s all over Pinterest.

It turned out tasty, and just a little thinner then I liked it, no problem, eat it, and try again. The third time was no charm, unless you like to eat yogurt that tastes like that last night’s Korean beef tacos… which were delish, but not how I wanted my yogurt to taste. What a waste, it was inedible… I learned that no matter how much I cleaned the slow cooker, the condensation that dripped from the lid might taint the mild creamy yogurt… so now I put a piece of wax paper under the lid and no more problems.

Let’s move onto my new homemade “frugal” laundry soap… less expensive then the current organic laundry soaps we are buying. Great ideas abound on Pinterest, so I perused a few recipes and eventually choose a simple 3 ingredient laundry soap. Washing soda, Borax, and castile soap instead of Blue Dawn. Thank goodness I didn’t pour it into a soap container… because it turned out thicker then the yogurt and now we have laundry paste. Thick, mushy, pure, no pour laundry paste, that doesn’t dissolve in cold water. Great… another failure?

No a live and learn, and make do, kind of lesson. After all how do you think they invented stuff if they didn’t make a few mistakes along the way. I saved enough money to pay for the electricity the dryer uses all winter by making my own yogurt… next week we might give up the vehicles, and bike everywhere…… But I think we are going to have to stop experimenting with being our own Chiropractors, no matter what the tutorial on Pinterest tells us… my arm looks really funny sticking out backwards…… I’m kidding! I doubled the recipe, and am wondering if the castile soap has made it gel up… anyone have any experience with making your own laundry soap, or your own yogurt? I’d love some hints, and I am not giving up… yet. Frugally…

It seems like so many times I take photos meaning to blog about them in the near future, and then they get put into the photo archives, and forgotten. Sure it’s great fun to look at sweltering hot sidewalks in the middle of the winter, “sweetie, can you turn down the heat a bit please, this summer photo is making me sweat.’ [As if] And then we have the snowdrop photos from last week. All week I have been meaning to look them up on the computer, they weren’t too sharp, it was pretty dim when I visited my secret snowdrop place. And I forgot, other things took precedence, work being one of them. So here I am writing about yesterday’s news, and those snowdrops are probably huge by now. But a full week of rain has made it pretty impossible to get out and shoot anything.

Yesterday’s news, both a good thing, and a bad thing I guess. There are some events you are glad that are over, like a visit to the dentist, or a work week.

And then there are others you want to take out, give a good shake, sit down and savour them. Like the sight of Bootsie running around the condo, tail up, legs akimbo, ferociously stalking a unseen prey. Finally himself again after two bouts with a mysterious high fever. A hug from Gar, it’s the reason my day stays on track. The feeling of the sun on my skin, that’s one to keep for those rainy days, bring it out and savour it through the clouds. The thought of spring… need I say more? Let me know what yours are.

Sharing shots of life, and the farm we are staying at.

Welcome to Farm Friday, I thought I would share some shots of this beautiful farm that we are staying on before we move to our new home. Baby it might be cold outside here, it’s now a balmy –15 C, but it was nasty weather yesterday with – 20C, and all of your lovely comments have warmed my heart. Thank you and we are so looking forward to moving into our new house. And I can’t wait to show you shots of it as soon as we get there, you just have to be patient, we move in the beginning of February. And it seems like Brenda from A Cosy Little House’s new series is going to be very popular. If you missed the introductions, here’s a link to my post. Be sure to go and meet each of the 5 bloggers participating. This is one you won’t want to miss, we will be posting every Thursday.

The Farm It’s a huge 150 acre farm, nestled in the hills of the North Okanagan. They grow asparagus, strawberries, turf, corn, and pumpkins, and all of it is for sale in the summer.

The Okanagan asparagus is known for it’s crisp green stems, and it’s popular with locals who buy it off the farm stand, and with retailers, and restaurants that feature it on their menus.

When the spring rolls around, [and it can’t be soon enough for us gardeners] those green shoots will push their way up from the cold ground. As soon as things start to grow I will be able to show you the funny contraptions they use to pick asparagus, it’s reminiscent of a old biplane. The pickers lay face down on long narrow beds, think of a surfer paddling out to sea, except instead of water, they are floating over beds of asparagus.

Sprinklers stand on guard drained for winter, but come spring they will be busy watering the asparagus fields. The fields may lay dormant for now, but soon as the weather warms, it’s going to be a busy place.

I’m looking forward to taking part in Brenda from A Cosy Little House’s new series on Thrifty Living 2012. In this series, there will be five women sharing the individual struggles they face economically with their families in a particular region. Each week [Thursday] one of us, Brenda, Claudia , Elaine , Diane, and myself will feature a topic on how we are living more thriftily in the year 2012. Then the rest of us will add our own paragraph or so on how we apply that to our own lives.

We run the gamut. Brenda is a single family household. Claudia and Don live with their two dogs in New York. Elaine has a small daughter, and grown children in Southern California. Diane and Ron live in Florida and are retired. Gar and I have just relocated to another part of BC, Canada and have just bought our first house.

So here’s my introduction:

My name is Jane. My husband, along with Bootsie our cat, and I have just moved up to the North Okanagan, in BC, Canada. We moved from a small condo in White Rock, near the beach to the gorgeous mountains, cold winters, and hot summers of the Okanagan to be near my family. It's a huge change for us, going from 850 sq. ft. condo, to 1st time homeowners of a real house! The first thing I would have to say, is it's expensive to do this, from the move, to the house purchase it's been a big drain on our finances. Like everyone else we have a budget that we have to live within.

So while I might dream of tearing out the kitchen right away, and replacing all the brass colored door handles, along with the interesting light fixtures, reality will take over as soon as we move into our new home. And that's where Thrifty Living 2012 comes in. I am going to have to dig deep, and be creative in order to make this house our home without breaking the bank.

We will be living in a rural area, it's a long drive to the grocery store, or to a job, there is no Friday night take out around here. We plan on recycling as much of our waste as possible, because there isn't any garbage pick up, no mail at the door, and I am not sure if there is even any cable.

As soon as summer comes along I am going to learn to can, and freeze summer fruits, and veggies for the winter months. I have big plans for a garden, and I love to cook, usually making most of our meals from scratch because of my severe allergies to so many foods, and additives. I also make my own cleaning solutions because I am allergic to the commercial ones that you would buy in the store.

It's going to be fun, and interesting, and I am sure that you will pick up some great tips from our series on Thrifty living 2012.

To read the introductions from the rest of this team, go over to:

Brenda of Cozy Little House

Claudia of Mockingbird Hill Cottage

Elaine of Sunny Simple Life

Diane of Lavender Dreams

I am heading off to read the other introductions, and get to know the other bloggers in this series, talk to you later.

If the seasons had personalities like people do what would they be like. Spring would be demure, and soft spoken, all coy glances, and soft pink frills, a real girly kind of personality. Summer would be exuberant, open arms, hugs, tank tops a throw back to the hippy days with a real anything goes kind of attitude. Fall would be quiet and contemplative a bookworm that loves details, cosy fires, crisp leaves, and long walks.

And Winter… well it would be like that person that seems prickly and hard to get to know, but turns out to be not a curmudgeon, but a faithful, and honest companion. The one that you would call when you needed something that you couldn’t ask anyone else to do for you. The one that sets boundaries that only open up after years of friendship, and then very carefully lets you in bit by bit. Winter is determined, fierce, and loyal, do not turn against winter, it will never forgive you. Winter can be playful, not like summer, or spring, but in a here’s beautiful day get outside and enjoy it kind of way. Winter will take you out of your comfort zone, it’s good at doing that. But it is also a teacher, you will learn more about yourself in winter then any other season.

Spring dilly dallies… flounces about with it’s blossoms, and bulbs, it’s not a serious season, it’s very into itself, all about renewal, like a day at the spa.

Summer is gregarious, mercurial, some days it’s over the top, others days it embraces you wholeheartedly. Summer has many moods most of them sunny, but when it’s unhappy you will know it, think of summer storms…

Fall, is more complex then we realize, deep, thoughtful, planning ahead, always considerate of what’s to come. Fall is responsible for winter’s happiness, and never forgets that, it would love to just relax, let the leaves fall as they may, but it can’t. Fall is like the older child, it knows it’s responsibilities and will never shirk them.

Winter is demanding, and can be harsh, but occasionally regrets that behaviour, so it tries to make up for it’s strength by fluctuating… winter hasn’t quite figured out who it is yet. Some days it’s warm and inviting, letting spring peek through the bare patches in the snow, the grass start to green, and then it changes it mind. Holding onto the season with all of it’s might. Winter sometimes you are hard to love, but we are trying and learning to embrace you. Don’t forget to link up your No winter Whining – Finding color in winter this Sunday Jan 19th at Life is like a garden to join in our No Winter Whining link up party. And be sure to “like” our Facebook page , and join in fun at our NWW pinterest boards. One post per week will be given the NWW virtual snowball award, and their posts added to the FB and Pinterest sites. Linky will stay open until the following Thursdays. So get those cameras clicking and find some color in winter.

Winter can be such a drab and dark time that it's nice to have something to brighten up your front door. These Christmas planters are easy to make, even for beginners.

After the season ends remove the decorations, and you will still have something to bridge the gap into spring. You will need the following items to start. Greens, either store bought or gathered, pine cones, branches. Container for planter. Pruning shears, or sharp knife. 2 strong grocery bags. Sand, or soil. Waterproof ornaments, and ribbon. [Optional] Florist wire to secure ornaments, pine cones, ribbon. Here's how to make them in a few easy steps.

• The most important step will be to use FRESH GREENS. They look better, last longer and you will not end up with little piles of brown needles on your floor. Gather your greens from the woods, or purchase them at Nurseries, and Grocery Stores, or even Home Improvement stores. A quick way to tell if they are fresh is to give them a light shake…if little falls off, they are usually fresh.

• The amount of greens that you will require depends upon the size of the container. I have found that anywhere from 2 — 4 bundles [a bundle is approx. a small handful, or 4 or 5 stems] of store bought greens will usually fill a larger container. I would suggest buying a little bit more so you don't run out halfway through your project. Take a walk outside and look for branches, and twigs bare, and with berries, holly, anything that has winter color, or great texture. You will be surprised what you can find growing that will be suitable.

• Slip one plastic garbage bag into the other, and fill with enough soil, or sand to snugly fill your container. Tie a tight knot in it, and place upside down in your container. If you have a suitable container left over from summer still filled with soil…and who doesn't, use that instead of the plastic bag.

• Start with your largest branches use pruning shears, or knife to cut a slight angle on the bottom, this will make them easier to pierce the plastic bag. Your goal is to build from the center of the container outwards, with the largest or tallest branches being in the center. Decorations will fill in the gaps later. I like to use dogwood twigs for their bright red color, they look spectacular in the center, and add some height. Pine, or fir boughs will fill in the area around them, and the floppier cedar boughs for the edges.

• Once your center branches are in place, poke some medium length branches into either side of your container. To give your container a symmetrical and balanced look, give it a half turn, and do the same one more time.

• Using shorter or floppier branches fill in the outer edges, until you have used up all of your greens.

Here's the fun part, finish with a giant bow, wired pine cones, and suitable outdoor decorations.

Make sure to water frequently in order to keep the greens moist and fresh.

It’s cool, and damp, with a light constant rain falling among the golden leaves. The colors reminding me that a hot drink would be very welcome right about now. My brain craves hot chocolate, the perfect comfort drink for a foodie on a rainy day. But I am banned from having anything dairy, and practically anything that tastes good seems to cause a huge reaction in my allergies lately. It’s amazing how good cheese tastes in your dreams when it can’t be in your diet. And I’m not even a cheese person.

I dream of pizza, mac and cheese, tacos, cheesecake, butter, and cream, oh what a nightmare for this food loving woman I am!

I want you to read this as I am writing it, with a wry smile, and a fond appreciation for that which we can’t have. I am not asking you to feel sorry for me… just thinking fond memories of food. It’s hardly life changing, lot’s of people have food intolerances, and the repercussions of eating something that causes my allergies to worsen is actually harder then not eating the food. I just need to keep telling myself that, it’s not good for me, stop craving it, but cutting it out isn’t fun.

I have what looks like a very wild sunburn on my face, it’s swollen, red, very visible,[once again this seems to happen every summer, I’ve written about it before] they say it’s allergies, the steroids are even having a hard time getting it to subside this time. It’s probably worth trying the no dairy, and maybe even the gluten free diet, no chicken, eggs, spices, sauces, tomatoes, avocados, no fun, I love food, but this is so extreme what am I to eat? And to top it all off, I think I am allergic to rice.

Well, there is always broccoli… and lettuce. So here I sit, with my cup of Chocolate flavoured almond milk hot chocolate, [which I probably shouldn’t even have] grimacing at every sip, wishing it was covered in something real like whipping cream, add a touch of butter, some garlic bread, along with a scrambled egg, and cheesecake… A woman can dream, can’t she? Do you have food intolerances, and how do you deal with it if you love that particular food?

Looking back,I was never really a swim kinda guy. You know how kids get sent to all those cool summer camps? Swim camp, tennis camp, basketball camp, anything to keep you preoccupied while school's out. I got... .. French lessons and exotic coin collecting.Great. I firmly believe that my overprotective mother was so concerned that I would get "injured" in this "big strange world" out there that instead of doing 500 meters at the pool I was downing 5 gallons of ice cream. All while watching Wacky Races on the i-Channel with this newfangled Sky Cable thing.

Poor kiddo.So to put it succinctly, I never had the benefit of those summer camp skills. I was pretty good with a Sega Mega Drive though (don't you just love all these Senti Sabado 90's references). Never really thought much of it... . much of my teenage and college life you could always just fake it by sort of wading in the shallow part and yapping it up with the gang during those sembreak trips to Bora.Thus... . not knowing how to swim didn't really matter. I rarely did anyway. I grew up. Got a degree. Went into the corporate world. Gained 40 pounds. Swimming was the farthest thing from my mind. It's like the staple party trick that you just couldn't seem to pull off but could care less if you could, like tying the cherry knots with your tongue or blowing plastic bubbles from little Chinese-made tubes.

That's hard.You know what happened next. Fat guy gets into running and loses 40 pounds. Fat Guy is no longer fat after running 102 rounds. Not-so-fat-guy bought a bike and tried this duathlon feat.And then one day he woke up and decided he wanted to be a triathlete.

The impossible dream?Suddenly, my early childhood deficiency came to the fore in a bad way. Triathlete? Maybe more like a Try-athlete, as klitschy as that sounds. Obviously, a triathlete who doesn't know how to swim is somewhat of an oxymoron.So what the crap was I supposed to do?The easy way to go about it was to just let go of the dream. Heck, maybe we're simply not meant to do certain things. Some people freeze up in public speaking, and some can't sing to save their lives. I can't swim to save my life either, so maybe I should just stick to what I know.Maybe it just wasn't meant for me.

Decision TimeI gave it a long hard look. I'm never one to back down from any challenge, but trying to do something that sent shivers down my spine, and at a competitive level at that, seemed a bit of a stretch for me.But then again, that would mean walking away from the dream... ..Pros. Cons. Contemplation. The setting Ortigas skyline cast its gentle shadow on me as I stood on my terrace, my gaze trailing off into the sunset. Should I play it safe? Could I withstand a lifetime of regrets and what if's , all because I never bothered to try?What would you do?

What pill?I chose the red pill . Time to face my fears and man up.Let's give this swimming thing a shot.Home-cooked "training" Emphasis on "training", because quite frankly, I had no idea what I was doing.

Duh.I'm more of the self-help kinda guy. Even with running, I took pride in the fact that I was a self-made man. Not that I abhor any form of outside advice or input, but it just seems that I do better when I learn on my own. So with much bravado, I set out to find as much material online as I could to learn this swim thing.Turns out, swimming is nowhere close to running. And learning on my own was easier said than done. I tried watching countless YouTube videos from all these online "gurus" saying conflicting things. Became part of countless swimming mailing lists, which I came to realize was merely an avenue to spam you with their products. I even downloaded the fun Mr. Smooth animation that supposedly allows you to emulate a "perfect" stroke free of any idiosyncrasies.

He doesn't smile too much.The end result of all these efforts?Epic fail.The info overload from differing viewpoints was a little hard to take in. I mean, for running, you just well, er, run. Once you can ride a bike, it's pretty much muscle memory. But I realized that swimming is a discipline that focuses a lot on technique. Technique that this stiff-armed Gingerbread character did not possess. The quick, rapid improvement that I was supposed to shock everyone with never saw the light of day. Sob.To further exacerbate things, the competitive nut in me got me in trouble again. The Dean's Cup is a UP Law-organized tweener sprint distance triathlon comprised of a 750m swim, 20k bike and 5k run, and for some reason there was this crazy itch in me to join.

With an initial foray into duathlon, there was a certain comfort level with the bike, and the run part is a given. But that 750m of swimming seemed more daunting than 102 kms of running to me at that time. Nevertheless, the "how will you ever learn if you don't bother to try" paradigm got to me again. And before I knew it, I had deposited my cool P1,250 reg fee and was on my way to either multisport glory or the bottom of the pool. (Ulk)Slight problem - Date of Payment : July 22, 2010.Date of Race : August 1, 2010.Sheesh.

Habol ng Habol. With barely two weeks left to prepare, I was scrambling. If I were an egg, I'd be the farthest thing from an easy over. I mean, ano nanaman ba tong napasukan ko? Some people wait months, even years before going for it. Yet here I was joining on another whim. I've come to realize that there are two kinds of athletes within the late adopter bubble- those who want to join with the best training possible so that they could rock it out, or those who join just to see if they can finishand set a yardstick for themselves. Obviously, I belong to the more daring (and should I say foolhardy)latter group.Palawan Chicken Swims In utter desperation, I was fortunate to have friends to help me out. Takbo.ph/Endure Multisport buddies Rico Villanueva and RJ Bumanlag helped me out at the Ultra pool one rainy Sunday afternoon. It was my first time to swim at Ultra, and I was daunted by the size. I had never swam 50m straight before in an Olympic size pool, and it was quite an experience of the lung busting kind. One lap was enough to knock the wind out of me. And you're telling me I had to do this 15 times during the triathlon? Whaaaaat??Significant confidence was still gained though, though I think my stress level shot up a couple of notches. We celebrated a good swim by partaking of sumptous Palawan chicken at Tiendesitas, one of the best dishes I had tried in a while.Waitress : Ser, may kasama na poh na apat na kanin yan... RJ: Ay miss baka sobra yang kanin, tatlo lang kamiRico: Oo nga, baka pwedeng kanya kanyang kanin na lang?Waitresss : Ay di na poh pwede ser package na poh yan. (15 mins later)RJ: Miss, isa ngang extra rice!Rico : Er, uh, ako din miss!GBM : Make dat three!

You have got to try this, take my word for it.One Step Forward, Ten Steps BackWith this newfound confidence, I ventured out(perhaps a bit too haphazardly) to further strengthen my swim skills albeit with poor rudimentary form. A quick visit on a stormy night at the Army pool near Mckinley proved to be a serious speed bump, just when I was gaining momentum. Visibility was next to nil, couldn't see crap. And as I would get to learn later, the pool was shaped in such a way that bouyancy was greater, making for a much more difficult swim.Right smack in the middle of a lap I felt that the pool was so heavy. Soon enough I was tiring rapidly, and before I knew it I was hyperventilating. Meaning I couldn't breathe. Which meant I was freaking out and drowning. Yes, drowning. I tried hanging on to the lane dividers or buoys. Crap! There weren't any! Flailing, panicking. Oh boy, what a disaster. I finally managed to make it to the shallow part of the pool quite shaken and shaking, but more bothered that I had lost my nerve just days before the race.Whatever faux swimming mojo I had before that session just flew out of the window.I couldn't get myself to a pool in the days after. I considered withdrawing from the race altogether, just give up this stupid nonsense. How can I be a triathlete if I can't swim?Once again, maybe it wasn't for me... ..More soul searching. The decision was agonizing. I didn't want to be labeled a quitter. Maybe I could never forgive myself if I bailed. But what if I drown again?With time running out, I ended up with the its-up-to-God move.(it sounds better in the vernacular)I leave it all to a higher power now.

Drowning is not a fun thing.D-Day Race day beckons. Armed with zero confidence and a goosebumps at the mere sight of water, I entered the transition area for body markings at UP with much trepidation. What if I make a monumental fool out of myself in front of everybody? What if I drown well, die? My would- be career would have been over before it had even started.Add in the pressure that this was my first official race under the banner of Endure Multisport, and you have an idea how my brain was functioning before the race. What if I mess up? Would they fire me? Eeek.

Smiles beforehand a mere facade to the anxiety withinSplash So here we go. Moment of truth. Like a salve to sooth my nerves, we were advised that the 750m swim portion would start at the deep, 10 foot part of the pool. Oh great. No one told me the salve came from the makers of chili plaster. I hung on to the pool ladder for dear life and kept to the back of the pack while waiting for our wave to be released.For me, this wasn't just the focal point of the whole race. It was make or break time.

Sob.A final heave, and I was finally done! 750m in 33 mins, how awful. But still, it felt like the weight of the entire world was lifted off my shoulders. I trotted off to the transition area, which was like 300 meters away, my mind set on one thing - making up for lost time.Mash A super slow T1 didn't help at all, and in my mindless zeal I nearly went out with everyone zooming by at full speed. The course was the Acad Oval had an extended, slight downhill followed by a false flat on the other end. I tried going out with guns blazing, but alas I'm not that strong of a biker yet to make it all up. I was passing people, but not as many as you would think.The exhaustion of the swim along with the heat were also getting to me, and was slow up the inclines with no cleats working for me. I overestimated my biking ability and thought I could take it in 40 mins. Not even close. I limped home to T2 in 55 mins, which meant I was barely above 20 kph. Eek.

Speed BagalDash Having no bike shoes has one lame advantage - it makes for a fast T2 transition. I took off my helmet and sped off, according to my teammates, "like a man possessed". Gigil na gigil daw. And for good reason. After trudging through a survival swim and a lame bike, here I was at core discipline. I couldn't wait to get out there. I run a high 21 minute 5k, maybe I could make up for lost time. Of course, we all know that ain't happening. My body had been beaten down severely at this point, and the heat was scorching. Legs felt like they had weights strapped on to them. Managed to pass several at the back end, but not enough to make a dent on my time. As I was sprinting towards the end and my entire team was egging me on, I came to the realization that Hey, I'm actually doing this! I survived!

Just a little more... As I crossed the line with an otherwise pedestrian 25 minute run split for a 1:54:16 total, the sense of accomplishment was overwhelming. Didn't matter that I was last on our team to finish, 56th place overall and 9th in our age group. I was particularly proud that although I utterly sucked out, I won my battle against the water. The phobia was messing with my brain, and I'm happy I stood up and fought it.The route I took was unconventional, and some if not most may not subscribe to it. But to the competitive people out there who wish to take a stab at something new, always remember that nothing is impossible if you only bother trying. If a guy like me with no prior swim skills (and who first encountered an Olympic-sized pool two weeks before the race) could hack it, so could you.

Happy guy.I'm a happy guy. I faced my fear and won a staredown with it. And I'm back to actually tell all of you the tale. My first try at my first tri. Always special the first time around eh? And to think it all came oh so close to never happening... .No what if's here.It matters not how straight the gateHow charged with punishments the scrollI am the captain of my fateI am the master of my soul - from William Ernest Henley's Invictus

That’s a pretty picture up above isn’t it? Beautiful water, reflection, trees… That’s why its so hard to believe that something so beautiful can cause me so much discomfort. Trees, gorgeous, green, stately, graceful trees. Oh grass, and apples, potatoes, and eggplant. I mean who is allergic to apples, and carrots? Well…me. I think that of all the serums they guinea pigged me with, I reacted to each and every one. But the absolute worst were tree pollens, and grasses. We are talking out of the stratosphere, over the top reactions.

That’s not good news for a gardener. How do you avoid trees? I love trees. So that explains a lot, why I had such a bad rash all summer on my face. Why I couldn’t go outside at all this year, and why things I ate bothered my skin. I am allergic to almost everything. Wow, it feels like that. When the allergist hands you a sheet of paper, that they normally circle a few items on that you might be allergic to, and each group is circled. You are in trouble, deep, no more gardening until they get this figured out trouble. No more potato chips, no more tomatoes, no seafood, no fun.

Allergy shots here I come. They are not cheap, but the alternative he told me, was Asthma. No thanks, so twice a week for? who knows how long. After all, I love gardening, and I love trees, so what should a gardener do? BTW, I am only slightly allergic to cats! Whoooo hooo! Because like I told the allergist, there was NO way I was giving Boo another home. Never, call me silly, but I love my Boo. Even if it did mean living with allergies. So who else out there is living with severe allergies, or taking allergy shots? I would love to know if they work.

Autumn, it’s me.
I know that we got off to a rocky start. And you’re heavy on my heart.
But you have to admit that you came in with a bang.
You know that I’m not a fan of thunder, and lightning.

Even the Fir trees shook in their deep rooted feet.
The mountains trembled.
The birds frightened from their branches as the night sky split open.
What kind of entrance was that.
You’re a newborn season, among the aged.
Summer had just left the night before.
Soft skies, hazy clouds, peach, and raspberry hills.
Then you made me shiver.
You’re so brash, so out there!
Flowers droop, leaves drenched, tall grasses broken.
The oily air, heavy, saturated.
And that was your entrance?
Did you want to shake me up, take charge?
I didn’t understand your intentions.
So yes, I might have seemed a little stand-offish.
I had good reason.
It takes me a while to get used to a new season.
I’m cautious, I like to stand back and watch for a while…
But your glittering gems laying swaths of destruction in the morning, left everything looking haggard by the afternoon.

To go from.
Warm days, sunshine, cool breezes.
To.
Leaves softly zig zagging down from brown branches, fluttering onto green grass creating a mosaic of colors.
Orange glowing russet in the fading light.
Pumpkins ripening in fields, vines wilted, snow covered leaves of mildew coating.
Apples crisp on branches, picked with fingers of glee.
Crunched on the way home.
Harvest festivals, corduroy pants, woollen gloves, down filled vests.
Hay bales stacked in fields.
Seeds selected, sorted, saved as promises for spring next year.

So Autumn, this is my promise to you.
I promise to give you a try.
To enjoy, embrace, venture out, and watch as you work your magical touch.
Turning leaves one day green, to gold, and then to copper.
Sending the geese on their way.
Lonesome honking from the grey skies.
Filling empty spaces with water, flooding the rivers with ducks.

Ripening berries, swaying fields, baring branches with gusts from your wind.
Frosting the fences, icing the roads.
Sparkling pebbles, and chilling puddles.
This is my promise… Autumn. Jane @ Muddy Boot Dreams

Fall Footies
So I have this fun idea… and I hope that you will join in during the next few weeks.
Let’s get creative, and celebrate the beginning of Autumn, by posting footies… [selfies of our feet] standing, jumping, whatever, as long as we are enjoying AUTUMN and it’s splendour.
Let’s try to get this leaf rolling, if you post on Instagram, Twitter, or G+ make sure to use the hashtag #FallFooties when you post, so we can all find them.

It’s funny how with autumn here, and the colors starting to change to ambers and oranges, the pink flowers in my garden are just starting to shine.
The hydrangea is a glowing, lush, and deeply colored cerise. The perennial carnation, now has more blooms on it at one time that it has accumulated all summer. And the Japanese Anemone is bursting with blush pink colored blooms. Maybe it’s all the garden gossiping that the plants are doing, whispering about the changes coming. Or maybe it’s the slightly cooler nights. Summer, your cousin Autumn is one hot number. It’s almost like you decided to stay awhile longer, and taunt us with those never ending sunny days, and warm nights. But we know even though you keep teasing us with yet another warm, and bright day that Autumn is a cool kind of season. It’s just hard to believe that when we are being treated so warmly.

After years of garden center work I had been trained to keep a eye out for perfection, beauty, and fine detail. But somehow these faded beauties hanging their bashful heads give me more joy to shoot, then when they were at the peak of perfection. To me they are imperfectly perfect.

I am not sure if you see it this way, but I get as much fun out of a crispy brown hydrangea blossom, as I do shooting it’s stunning blues during mid summer. There is a texture in dying flowers, a deepness of a season passed by. And when the hydrangea turns colors as it passes through the stages, it’s even more beautiful to me. When the leaves of a tree turn color, they shine, they shimmer in the golden light of autumn, and as they fall they evoke a good feeling of seasons to come.

So Autumn, come bring your color, and summer gracefully let go of your days. The fading light, and cooler nights will bring many treasures for us photographers. Our subjects may be fading, but they are imperfectly perfect.

Mother Nature, mercurial, quirky, odd, wonderful, delightful.
Those last few are when the weather matches up with what it is we are expecting.
May I gently remind all of you
Including those eager bloggers who have declared it Autumn, that the day doesn’t come for a little while yet.
Let us not count on our fingers, but with our hearts… step outside.
Enjoy the late summer days, the cooling nights, the freshening air.
Breath deeply, and save it for later.
Those days of cold, dark, uneven steps.

And if you live in Calgary, the early snowstorms… Canadian humour folks.we like to tease that part of the country, don’t worry, it’s all gentle, and fun.
But they were deep in snow for a little while.
Deep, in snow… in September.
Who would have thought.
Not us as we woke to Mother Nature blowing us a farewell kiss.
Frozen out
Frost on the roofs.white, crystalized cold.
Symbolic of a change of season, but much too fast for our hearts, our toes, and our gardens.
Three days of high alert, worrying, cozying up the tomatoes, brushing off the snow boots, dreaming of the beach.
Disbelief
And then.
She took it back
Just like that, she turned, twisted, and flitted away, only to return in a moment with sunshine, heat that would rival any summer day.

Gone girl
Gone is the frost, the cold, the dark mornings, the furnace blowing desperately to warm.
In it’s place she has painted meticulously designed glowing sunsets that pearlize the sky.
Shining their gleam across a land of big skies, blue mountains, and bronzed fields of wheat stubble.
Creating awe in this photographers heart.
Mornings, fresh, delightful, and bright.
Newly minted
Leaves greening, flowers bursting, veggie gardens continuing to produce.
Raising doubt like a flower rises towards the light, will Winter truly come?
And, if so why?
Why can’t we live in this land of make belief for a while longer?
Indian summer forever?
Why must winter come so soon after summer sheds her skin?

Skies so blue.
Clouds not to be found.
Flowers continue to bloom.
Yes, Mother Nature.
Take back that kiss.

Just a note to those of you have already read this, sorry about re-posting, but this isn’t showing up in very many inboxes. Don’t know what happened to the feed, so I am trying to repost it again to try and figure out what has happened. If you have already read this, then I apologize, last nights leftovers, and such… LOL.

All summer long I’ve been hearing about the wonderful fruits and veggies that my Sister’s farm is producing. My parents have been tantalizing us with tales of planting corn, potatoes, carrots, and seedling watermelons, and cantaloupe until we were drooling. And then to they would describe what they were having for dessert, watermelon, cantaloupes, peaches from a friends tree. It was hard. There is nothing like paying over $4.00 at the local fruit mart for a mushy, overripe, grainy melon to make you crave the real homegrown thing. Of course with a 5 hour drive it makes it a little expensive to just drop by and pick up some. So we made the trip last weekend, and came back loaded down with everything under the sun. Juicy watermelons, crisp, and perfectly ripe, musky cantaloupes fragrantly smelling up the truck. Orange pumpkins, with warts, that I fell in love with immediately. Corn, that is unlike anything you have ever tasted. Along with carrots, and potatoes from my Dad’s garden. You can start drooling now. There was red Russian garlic at the farmers market, do you have any idea how hard it is to get good garlic that isn’t grown in China around here? Almost impossible. And my massive harvest of 5 heads isn’t going to take us far.

With all the rain that we drooped through during the long weekend, it seemed easier to put off picking until it dried up. With such a short trip, time went quickly, and we found ourselves forced to forage in the dark, the night before we left, with the glare of the headlights illuminating the pumpkin patch in order to choose the perfect “great warty pumpkin.” The dogs thought this was great fun, and in the inky blackness ran past us so fast they almost knocked me over. My nephew was so helpful in picking out the melons in the dark, it seems he has a real talent for that. Because at that point I would have just settled for anything near the road, thanks H.!

All of this just makes me more determined to move upcountry, because I hope that the first thing we are able to do when we get settled is plant a veggie garden. With visions of orange pumpkins, and red garlic dancing in my head.

My only guess is that we grumbled about the summer heat a little too much, those days of soaring temperatures, and hot sun are just a distant memory. Really distant, oh, and they are a little wet, musty, and damp due to the large amount of rain we have had lately. What’s up with September, we usually get a beautiful few weeks of sunshine, warm days, and cooler nights. Now we have had nothing but hard winter rain for the last few weeks. When we were in Armstrong, up in the Okanagan, home of the “oh sure call it rain if you like, but this is nothing” we for the first time up there experienced a wet coast rain. You’ll know the kind if you live any where on the coast, the kind that penetrates your very skin. Soaking, dripping, saturating everything, and the dampness that invades your clothing doesn’t go away until next August.

The wonderful IPE fair, where it only rains on the first day, which is historically Thursday, was full of rain. The Saturday night that we went, it poured for over 2 hours. Armstrong doesn’t get rain, and when it does, it doesn’t last for more then a few minutes. There were so many shocked people hiding under eves, darting into buildings, and squeaking in the bleachers, as they stomped their soaked flip flops up the pathways it was actually crowed.

Everything more or less shut down, the rides had no lineups, the rodeo was delayed, and the cotton candy melted on it’s sticks. The mini doughnuts wouldn’t fry, and the caramel apples were gloppy. And worst of all, my camera doesn’t like the rain, so I could barely get any shots all weekend. It was rather funny to be up there, [from the wet coast], overhearing everyone talk about the rain, all we heard was"never seen it rain like this before, have you?” Yep! Been there, done that, LOL.