Category Archives: holidays

You Gotta Have Heart

Spokane Riverfront Park, July 4

It’s July 4th, and if there is one thing Americans know how to do, it is hold a patriotic party. Being Canadian, I am part of a country known more for its politeness and low key attitude so I have always been in awe of the Americans when it comes to this kind of thing.

I have been in the U.S. on July 4th twice in my life, and both times it was spectacular. The pomp and ceremony was grandiose, there was stars and stripes everywhere, and of course there was plenty of food and drink with American favourites in abundance.

The first time as a young teen at basketball camp in Pullman, WA. I had never seen a fireworks show like that before – wow! And that was just for all of us campers being hosted at the university campus. We had hot dogs for dinner, on tables dressed with bunting and flags. For dessert as a special treat we got apple pie.

The American girls wanted to know if we had a party in Canada (they had no idea about Canada

despite being low key, Canadians do have their own sense of pride – and sense of humour

Day). They also asked about Canadian food, not expecting that much of what we ate was at least similar (you couldn’t get Babe Ruth chocolate bars or Dr Pepper in Canada when I was a kid, but I never felt that I suffered).

This was before the internet and online shopping, so I suppose you can excuse some ignorance of Canadian culture.

My next Independence Day experience was taking a bunch of teenagers, when I was part of a Girl Guide trip to Spokane for the July 4th holiday. We were downtown at Riverfront Park, so there was not only the fireworks show but also the full carnival atmosphere from food trucks to craft vendors and all manner of buskers.

We saw dance troops, marching bands, a capella singers, a one-man band, a magician, and a fire

you want to share this treat – the whole thing is enough to conquer even the heartiest of foodies

juggler. I even had a chance to try a deep-fried Mars bar. The girls were overwhelmed by the scope of the celebration; it opened a door to a new understanding of a different world, as many of them had never left Canada before.

We celebrated 150 years of Canada as a country this year. I did see more Canadian flags on cars and tattoos on people’s faces. We knew more people who had parties, and we catered a party for people who had done all kinds of decorating at their lakefront house, and hired a fireworks barge to do a show on the lake for their guests. It was heartwarming, and fun – I could even say patriotic. I enjoyed it thoroughly, and felt a rush of pride at being a part of our great country.

It is important to give credit where it is due – as I type this, I’m watching fireworks set off from five barges in the New York harbour. The West Point band and glee club are singing a medley of patriotic songs in tune to the explosions. Cheers and good health to all you Americans out there. Here’s to your spirit!

 

Happy Summer Solstice

This is it. The longest day of the year. It was hit and miss for sunshine here but I managed a few candid shots…

The first peek at my inaugural chocolate Lily of the season – ta da!


Our Mexican yoyo bird chimed his heart out this morning in the summer breeze …

I never get tired of our view…


Ella is ready – “for a walk? Yes please!”


It might not be our usual decadent summer this year, but it was another day above the dirt for me, as the saying goes, and that’s good whatever the weather. 

A princess in a lost kingdom

the_lost_princess_by_jacob_joseph

The Lost Princess – Jacob Joseph

It’s Father’s Day today, and I’m sad. I feel rather forlorn. You see, I grew up as a Princess, with all the trappings of a young girl in a magic kingdom. I had an idyllic childhood, full of happy memories in good times and lessons learned in tough times. Everything always turned out okay, and more often than not it felt that way because my Dad was the one to cheer me on or push me on. After all, he was the one who made me a Princess. The problem is, he’s gone now.

I miss my dad every day, but Father’s Day hurts in a special melancholy way. It makes me remember the myriad of things that my Dad taught me, and then the breath catches in my throat as I am struck with not being able to tell him or hug him to say thanks.
I don’t like to dwell on the past – you can’t live there. But I don’t want to forget “wonderful Daddy from Winnipeg” , as we used to joke should be his title. Earl at the beach So if you’ll indulge me, I’m going to mention some of my favourite memories and learnings:

  • Waking up to music he would play… I had a turntable in my bedroom and he would come down and put a record on to wake me up for school. Billy Joel, The Eagles, Supertramp, Neil Diamond, Nilsson. I still love “Dad rock”, as all that music is now labelled.
  • Watching CBS Sunday Morning, together and then separately when I was older, but still sharing our love for the good news and the quirky discoveries in the world. I still watch, and often smile at stories I know he would have enjoyed.
  • Marching to “The Sorcerer’s Apprentice” – through the house, pretending to be like Mickey Mouse with his broom.. The whole family would march in a line, my brother and I swinging our imaginary brooms with great fervor and my Mom bringing up the rear (to make sure things didn’t get too crazy). We’d go down the hall and over their bed, even. It makes me smile every time I think of it.
  • Eating the fried egg sandwiches he used to make me before early morning high school basketball practice. I wish now I had practiced even harder. I wish I’d known then that stronger arms would have helped my shot. But he cheered me on through my clutziness, and even bought season tickets to the Vancouver Grizzlies’ inaugural season years later, so we could watch games live. I travelled from Calgary whenever I could, and we saw Michael Jordan play!
  • His sayings still get me through tough days – “Illegitimum non carborundum est” (don’t let the bastards get you down) and “optireculitis” (a condition in which your optical nerve gets tangled with your rectum, giving you a shitty outlook) .  When I felt as though the world was against me, he would always say, “Who loves you, Kricky? Your Daddy does.”
  •  Our trip to Maui was full of great memories and lots of laughter. He hadn’t been well and the quality time was good for both of us. I was so chuffed when one of the last times we spoke he talked of how great that trip was…

    Earl in Hawaii - the good life

    we had appies on the deck in our hotel suite at the Fairmont Kea Lani – living the good life!

  • The Treehouse Bistro, which was the 2 directors chairs at the corner window in his West End apartment, was the place we solved all the problems of the world on many a Friday night. Now I have the chairs, and every time I sit in one I think of our great ideas, and the spectacular meals we ate in them.
  • “Where’s the other 2 percent ?” – the answer to my declaration that I got 98% on a test at school. Then it was frustrating to be teased, but it made me tough enough to take the blows the world dealt me, and it made me want to push myself and improve.
  • “Drive till you get there”. Learning to drive, a standard no less, was stress at a new level with my dad, who was an RCMP officer for a time as a young man. Thanks for keeping me safe, Daddy.
  • “If you got it, flaunt it”. This wasn’t meant to be trashy, but rather to encourage my self-confidence. My dad knew I was the not the kind of kid who fit in, and he more than anyone helped me learn to be myself, and be proud of that.
  • “Take 10 pictures for every one you want. Film is cheap.” Nowadays it’s even cheaper with digital pics, and I’m thankful to have memories recorded. I wish I had copies of more of my childhood photos!

    Kristin in a wheat field

    one of my favourite shots of me taken by my Dad

I could go on, but perhaps the most important thing I learned, ironically, came from the fact that he got sick. For many years the doctors predicted he didn’t have long to live, so my dad did not sit back to save for a rainy day. He lived the Carpe Diem philosophy to the fullest he could. It shaped my life, and has been my motivation to strive for that balance in life we all hope to have.

I so wish we’d had more time together. But I am so thankful for all that I got from my dad. I might be a Princess without a kingdom but I am still a Princess. I can still flaunt it, I can still battle the dragons, I can still reach for my happily ever after. I know somewhere there is a soul out there smiling proudly. Who loves you, Daddy? Your Kricky Princess, that’s who.

New Month, New Start

Today is May Day, a celebration in many parts of the world – some countries have made it a workers day, and others have it as a celebration of spring, an evolution of pagan festivals such as Beltane. I am always struck by nature’s timeline on this day, perhaps because I live in Canada where the winter weather likes to linger.

It seems this year I am leaning more to the other side of May Day’s meaning – I need help to get out of my winter funk. I was in the garden this morning with my fingers in the dirt and that was a good tonic but wearing two woolly layers and still having my gumboots dampened my mood, if you’ll pardon the pun. My Lilies of the Valley have come up, but are far from blooming yet this year, so there will be no real “Fête du Muguet” for me.

The naval term “mayday” was created in 1923 by a British radio operator who came up with an easily recognizable phrase (he was inspired by the French “m’aider”, meaning “help me”). It is repeated 3 times when calling for help, to make sure everyone hears it correctly. It seems to me that wouldn’t be too hard in disastrous situations; one has a tendency to shout and repeat things. When the clouds get low and the wind blows day after day I feel like I should run out in the yard and send out this call.

I suppose a better way to deal with our long winter is to engage in the celebration of moving forward, though. I flipped the calendar pages and I will be planting the last of my greenhouse seedlings today. I will bake a pound cake to signify the sweeter time of summer with sunshine and warmth. (Historically, this was when grazing animals were put out to pasture to feed on the wild grasses and flowers, making butter and milk richer and more flavourful.)

I’ve always wanted to dance under a Maypole, but that will take some more work. There is something romantic and wistful about maidens in flowing dresses dancing with ribbons barefoot in the grass. Maybe I’ll put together a fairy garden. No one will notice if I tiptoe out tonight to dance with the little ones and have my own Beltane ritual.

The Fairy Dance (1875) – Richard Doyle

Easter is a wonderful occasion

There is so much about Easter that is beautiful. It is truly a turning point. Spring has sprung and there is new life bounding in the fields with baby animals and new plants. Lent has ended and Easter Sunday is a day of feasting, with chocolate and sweet breads and a groaning table of delicacies, shared with family and friends.

Here at Rabbit Hollow, family is over the mountains and most of our friends are across many miles (some are even on the other side of an ocean). As such, we give thanks for their love and toast their good health and happiness. We always have a feast of our own – this year our homemade “Lamb Jam” and garden beets pickled with star anise were well suited for the succulent lamb chops my hubbie prepared

Cheers to Cedar Creek Winery – their Platinum Malbec was delicious with the tangy plum chutney and beets that accompanied the lamb.

with roasted asparagus and market potato wedges. And then there are the extras…

  • I wanted to do some baking, so bunny cookies were the order of the day. I used Anna Olsen’s cardamom sugar cookies as an inspiration. My tweaked version of her recipe will be added to the archives this week, under Easter Bunny Cookies.

  • we were spoiled by a certain motherly figure who used modern technology to contact our favourite pastry chef, Sandrine. Dessert was the perfect end to the holiday weekend.

The background doesn’t do it justice but the Paris-Brest was divine, and the chocolate mousse cake was perfectly decadent


I have to admit, it was a bit lonely visiting the market by myself this weekend and baking cookies alone in the kitchen; not to mention hunting for chocolate eggs all by my lonesome self (well, except for Ella’s help). However, I am truly grateful to know I have such wonderful friends across the world. Thanks to technology I was able to chat online with many of them, and I hope to see them soon.

I hope you shared love as well as chocolate this weekend. Here’s to a new season, full of sunshine and good feelings.

Even Ella and her new stuffie were popped after a hard day of hunting and baking. There was nothing left to do but bask in the sun…

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