I'm in the Garden Archives

Winter white flowers, for your winter days.

The Winter Beach

We live on a peninsula here in White Rock, and have access to two public beaches, White Rock beach is a glamorous beautiful beach. Although it makes for some spectacular shots, it is my summer beach.

Crescent beach is my winter beach, where life is more relaxed. This is my favorite beach to walk on during a windy day. A cold northwest wind tickles your back, eagerly searching for space between your jacket, and sweater. When you leave, your cheeks flood with warmth as your car navigates the winding road back from the beach.

I take winter shots on this beach, with the diffused light coming over miles of water it has a ethereal feel to it. The gray sand reaching under the waves monochromatic, but fascinating.

Colorless seagulls shrill in the winds, the benches are bereft of visitors. A good lonely place.

What do you see?

Some Christmas shots to get you feeling all festive and happy.

But each one of these four shots has something in common. And it is not the Christmas theme, or the mercury glass.

Take a closer look at all of these photos, and tell me what you see.

[There are reflections of the photographer in all the mercury glass shots.]

Something so simple

There are times when the simplest things can turn your ordinary day around, and make it special. Working with someone that you get along with really well, good news, a smile from a stranger.

I found these orange tulips outside the grocery store yesterday, in one of my favorite colors, a unusual variety not often found. There was a huge smile on my face, and I felt as if I had won the lottery.

These really make my heart sing! And I hope that you enjoy them as much as I do.

Talkin about my generation

I grew up confused about which generation I belonged to. Not considered a baby boomer, nor considered to be a Gen X'r. Those of us that are born at the tail end of the Baby Boom don't always identify as belonging to either group.

Using the Canadian demographics we would be considered a Boomer, but the US had a shorter baby boom, and considers us Gen X'rs. According to Prof. David Foot from the University of Toronto, " the front end of the baby boomers are in their late 50's" I am not near my 50's yet.

Canada's baby boom ended in 1966, and the US baby boom ended in 1964. But more importantly I think, is that I don't consider myself one of the privileged baby boomers. And I certainly am not one of the so called "slacker generation." I think that we should be called the "straddlers", neither one nor the other, but yet both.

I have spent my life following the Baby Boomers, watching from afar the mass cultural changes they invoked, the demographics they blew out of the water. The sheer abundance of everything that they consumed. There wasn't much of the affluence that they took for granted left over for us younger ones. I'm not bitter, just confused, as I head off into middle age, still trying to find myself. They at least know who they are.

What do you consider yourself? A Boomer, and Gen X, Gen Y, or even some new term?

Just misplaced, not lost.

I lose things, and with some regularity. I guess you could call me a loser. But then of course you would not be the nicest person I know, so for proprieties sake, lets call me a "misplacer of valuable and much required objects, that seem to have been there one minute, and now are gone......somewhere else."

I have 3 wedding bands, he only has one. The simple reason is I misplace them, so I go out and purchase another one to replace the missing one. We started with his and hers, the diamond all sparkling and pretty. But I'm not much for jewelry, so I take them off at home. And that's where the problem lays.

After a friend lost her huge diamond in the dirt while gardening, we bought the plain gold band. I wasn't going to let that happen to me! NO way, not me, I don't lose things.

Then I lost the gold band, and for a few months I wore nothing, but I missed it. When most of your customers know that you just got married, going ring less is like a bush fire, the divorce rumours start fast, and spread faster, not good!

So we bought the silver band, and now I just wear whichever one I can actually find when I go out the door. Funny how they always seem to get lost.

I am not sure if this guy has anything to do with it, but I found the gold ring on his crown the other day.

So.......are you a loser or not? And how many wedding bands do you have, or should I say had?

Or do you lose other things, car keys, books, phones, people?

Do tell, this should be interesting!

Not breaking any records, but....

Not that we broke a record yesterday, but White Rock, BC, was the "hot spot" in Canada. Yes CANADA!

Yaaaaahooooo! Hot spot in the land of ice and snow. It was 11 Celsius here yesterday. I am not sure what that is in Fahrenheit, you will have to do your own conversions. Apparently quite warm for this time of year.

Back east, they are having record snowfalls, lots and lots of the white stuff. Here we had a little frost last night, just barely any, it was hard to find. I did manage to get a shot of some frost covering a plank.

I just know that my Dad will be calling his brother in Alberta, [ neighbouring province and very cold] to brag about the good weather we are having. But hot spot city that we are here, there is still one thing that I want to know. Why are my feet still so cold?

Just what is she doing?

Late Fall, and ALL Winter, the days are darker, my list of fun things to shoot gets shorter and shorter. But I still wanted to be able to go out and photograph something, anything. Bare branches with with water drops lose their appeal after a few times.

So I started to haunt the local corner stores, who could resist, they truly are the winter eye candy for photographers. We have only a few days per year that are very cold enough to necessitate moving cut flowers indoors so they don't freeze. Which means a vast array of color, texture, and pure beauty that lines the sidewalks.

I have quite a few in my area that sell great quantities of flowers. So I would bundle myself up, and take the camera out for a walk.

At first I would get some odd looks from inside the store, "just what is she doing?" But once I explained that I was photographing the flowers, they just let me shoot what I wanted. Sometimes I will purchase a bouquet, and sometimes I would give them a handmade card.

Living in the city does have it's advantages, and when you can take a walk, get some great shots, and see flowers all year round, well maybe it's not so bad.

It's coming again.

It's coming again soon, the great cat debate, the feline fiasco, the kitty conundrum. We will soon be voting as a strata building whether or not to allow cats, for the 3rd time. Third time lucky, I say.

VOTE YES for kitty!! That's my campaign slogan.

Hopefully this time it will not involve, intimidation, coercion, and intrigue. well maybe the intrigue part is OK. But grown men coercing little old ladies to vote no, and offering younger ones a free dinner to vote no is just not on.

Those were some of the best attended Annual General Meetings we had ever had in the 30 year history of this building. Almost everyone showed up.

And almost everyone had a opinion, unfortunately they did not all coincide with the subject of whether or not to allow cats.

One lady accused everyone of stealing her mail, sending it off to aliens to read and then putting it back under her door mat. [Her family eventually relocated her to a old age home].

Another gentleman stood up and told a long rambling story about a donkey in a elevator. Apparently the owners eventually found out that the miniature donkey was kept up on the 23rd floor as a illegal pet. Hey they should have been glad that the owners did not keep a pet python, and take it for walks. All we want are some indoor kitties.

We lost the first two times, because of the cheating and intimidation. But we are better prepared this time, and besides, many of the naysayers are now gone. So I am challenging the cat haters to bring it on. I'll be the first to sling the kitty litter!

They come in threes

I have a theory, and maybe I am right, or maybe I am right off the wall. But I think that it is a good theory. The bigger the person, the bigger the sneeze.

Have you ever seen a little itty bitty tiny woman sneeze? achhoo! So cute

I'm a tall woman, and you should hear me sneeze, ACHHOOOOOO! I have tried to tone it down, tried to hold it in, tried and tried but "AAAAchhhhhooooo. It doesn't work

Same thing with guys, bigger guys, bigger sneeze. Smaller men, smaller sneeze.

Gar sneezes in threes, in succession, with three sneezes every time. We've counted them, I don't really know of anyone who sneezes more than once, sometimes twice, but three times?

So if anyone out there sneezes in three, put my mind at ease. I'll be back soon, I need to make a run to the store for more Kleenex.

A Summer of Roses

I never really appreciated roses until recently. Knowing they were rather fussy about where they lived, I had always considered them the yuppies of the garden. And I was in to hurry to invite them to my garden.

Then I discovered miniature roses, and the first rose I ever bought was a miniature white floribunda. The shockingly white blossoms would age into a hot pink tinged bloom that resembled pink elephant popcorn. Ever had pink elephant popcorn? It is white, with hot pink powered sugar dusting the kernels, and you will eat the whole box.

Last summer, I started to photograph roses, I had avoided it because I felt it was a cliche. But occcasionally I would run across some so breathtaking that I would slip them in.

And now I am so glad that I did shoot them, they have become some of my favorite subjects.

And in roses, I feel that I have discovered a new and exciting friend. One whom I am happy to invite to my garden.

Ford Vs Chev

When we were growing up, my sister Turf Toter and I were immersed in the middle of a friendly rivalry over brand loyalty that still influences us to this day.

My Dad, was a die hard Chevy guy. This was the one and only brand of pick up that he would ever be caught driving. There was no way that a Ford could ever out perform his Chevy Pick up or even come close to it in gas mileage, performance, and straight up beauty. We were taught to extol these details at the slightest urging.

My Dad's brother, a love em forever Ford man, and father to my cousin, did not agree with him. They would happily get together and compare notes, discussing for hours which vehicle was better. The cousin, Turf toter, and I, would have many disagreements over which was better.

"Found on Road DEAD!, fix or repair daily". We would chant all these slogans to the cousin. She would counter attack with her own version of "Chevy, Chevy, rhymes with "ditty ditty", and I can't print it here.

This went on forever, with Dad telling us stories of the Uncle's repeated truck failures, sadly shaking his head over the foolishness of repurchasing a inferior brand.

Until one day, my Dad bought a new truck. It was a Ford! He sounded a little bashful on the phone when he told us, "what about the rivalry?" Isn't the Uncle going to crow?

"No", replied Dad, " He bought a Chevy."