The warming sun and the gentle breezes of Spring always turn my thoughts to Geoffrey Chaucer. The opening lines of his beloved poem, The Canterbury Tales, the words and sound of the words, are music to me:
Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, The droghte of March hath perced to the roote, And bathed every veyne in swich licóu Of which vertú engendred is the flour;
Chaucer, who lived in the late 1300s, was the first significant poet of the English language.… Continue reading
After a long, wet winter, spring’s light and warmth are a welcome relief. But, for me, it’s also a mixed blessing. A stirring time of year when the earth’s renewal is no longer a mere promise but something tangible.
There’s a different cast of light now. That patina of green you see around the trees and brush is a sign that the sap is stirring, that the weather is warming.… Continue reading
Imagine the promise of having a constant supply of homemade bread practically without lifting a finger! In the late 1990s, mixing and kneading bread dough seemed onerous to the 40-year-old me. Easy-to-make, inexpensive bread was too much to resist! So I bought a bread-making machine.
What could go wrong? Dump a few ingredients into the tub, shut the lid, press a button, and get on with your day.… Continue reading
The Greenangel Woodchoppers delivered a pile of firewood last week. After returning from a long day in Vancouver, Jennifer and I discovered the happy pile of chopped wood tumbled on the grass beside the woodshed. It was a great surprise and a relief.
A gale blew through Boundary Pass on Monday. It was a powerful storm that seemed lightweight initially but eventually packed a mean punch. The power went off around bedtime, branches fell on the roof. We huddled in bed as the storm raged outside, driving swarms of logs, smashing them into the rocks at the base of our cliff.… Continue reading