Heidi Greco's Blog, page 3

Crumbling

No, I haven't gone to the Middle East to take photos. This is from what they call City Centre in Surrey. The name is an invention from a developer's mind; the location is nowhere near the geographic centre of the city, which is actually where City Hall was located some years ago. 

The overriding philosophy of late seems to be 'tear it down, build something at least 40 stories tall.'

I've been attending City Council meetings, and is it ever disheartening. 

Neither the Councillors in Surrey nor the ones in nearby White Rock show an ounce of respect for the wishes of the public, even though (they seem to have forgotten), the public is the beast that elects them. 

Thus, my feelings that democracy, as we once knew it, is crumbling--and not just here either. 

Regrets or no regrets

It's been a while since I've posted anything here--not for lack of things going on, only for silly reasons, including procrastination. 

But since this rainbow has been lolling about in my recent photos, it seemed like an omen that might get me going again. After all, something about it seems quite protective even if it does seem to be in the midst of a brewing storm. 

We'll see how the next few days pan out. 

Living salad bar

I've been doing my best to buy Canadian, and must admit it isn't always easy. So many US products have filled our produce aisles, too many of us have forgotten how to grow our own. 

One of the best ways I've found of working around the many varieties of lettuce from California has been the discovery of 'living lettuces' that are grown here. Not only do they last longer in the fridge, because they already have a well-established root ball beneath the leaves, they're super-easy to plant! All you need to do, once you've used the leaves is ensure there's still about an inch or so of greenery above the roots and stick the whole thing into soil. The 'salad bar' above is the result of just such 'recycling' and pretty much ready for harvest (at which time I'll do the same procedure again). 

But apparently you don't even need to find the pre-rooted kinds of lettuce for this to work. Here's a video that demonstrates how to start lettuce using only water (as well as further videos on 're-using' green onions and more). I have to admit that when these little plants are starting out, they remind me a lot of one of my favourite film characters, Groot, from Guardians of the Galaxy. 

Happy growing, along with heathy and delicious eating!

Heartbreaking

The photo above is from 2014, the first time I visited Harbour Grace, NL. That's the town that served as the taking-off point for Amelia Earhart's solo flight across the Atlantic Ocean, and today, May 20th, is the anniversary of that flight, now 93 years ago. (If you click on the link for May 20th, you'll see two minutes of silent footage taken that day.)

I'm the one who tucked the tiny bouquet into her hand. It was just my little way of saying hello to her, as she is one of my personal heroines. I can't imagine what courage it took to fly across the Atlantic, and in a plane reliant on a single engine! No fallback there, only fall-into-the sea. 

I named this post "Heartbraking" because earlier this spring, scoundrels (sounds like it was a pair of men) stole the statue, all seven feet of metal in her likeness. So far, "Amelia" hasn't been found. I, along with many others, continue to hope that the statue hasn't been melted down. 

The real Amelia was lost once, back in 1937. This time, it's truly a crime. 

A quiet art

When I was little, I used to love going into my gramma's workroom--at least that's how I thought of it. I have no idea what she called that room, but it was a magical place to me. It was where she made quilts. 

There was a frame she used to build them on, rolling the edges as she sewed--always by hand--the same way I liked to sew the doll clothes I made. Must have been something in our genes.

On the weekend, I attended a quilters' exhibit, and as you might guess from the photo above, I wasn't the only one amazed by what I saw. If you click on the photo you might be able to tell that the images on the white background are bits of applique. It's an art that confounds me; I can't imagine needlework that could be more demanding. 

Reading the sign next to that quilt, the artist reveals it took her a year and a half to finish it. Not surprising, considering the demanding detail involved. And also not surprising, this was the quilt that won both main awards: the prize for best quilt as well as acknowledgment at being the people's choice. Hear, hear and bravo!

This woman, working on her own small piece of applique didn't mind my taking a photo of her at work. Inspiring, but not an art I feel capable of taking up.  

Bizzy

Or should that maybe, with that bee so hard at work, be 'buzzy' instead?

This rhododendron, which is probably 12 feet tall, has in the past always done me the honour of opening on Mother's Day. But this year, it decided to open early. 

I'm not complaining. It's always beautiful, but usually opens after the lilacs are spent. This year, both of them are gloriously in bloom, almost as if they're trying to compete with each other. 

In my mind, neither is 'winning'--I'm just grateful to have so much beauty outside the front door. 

Coming home from Vancouver on the bus I was happy to spot...

Coming home from Vancouver on the bus I was happy to spot, in among the ads for everything from real estate to debt relief, this poem by Michelle Brown. 
It's part of a long-running series called Poetry in Transit, a program whose name I am sure must have been inspired by a song from long ago, "Poetry in Motion". Oddly, Johnny Tillotson, the singer who popularized that tune, died at the beginning of this month--the month when we in Canada celebrate National Poetry Month. 
I was doubly glad to have found this particular poem on 'my' bus, as the book it's from Swans , a book 
that's currently on my reading table, a nice way to close off this year's National Poetry Month celebrations. 

Celebrating the Earth

The miracles that nature delivers continue to amaze me, though you'd think after so many years on earth, I'd be getting accustomed to them. 

Still, looking at the photo above, it's hard to imagine that at least some of those flowers will sometime in August be ready-to-eat peaches. 

But miracles aside, it seems odd (a polite term) that today should be the day when our own "Mr Drill Baby Drill" should finally be releasing details of his party's platform, one that will no doubt include plans for more pipelines, more reliance on fossil fuels, more pretending that climate change isn't a critical issue. Am I the only one to notice the irony of these announcements on Earth Day? 

As I'm finding my own ways to observe this year's Earth Day, I'm happy to think of it as an event we should be celebrating every day!

Low-rent accommodation

Once again, the birds have taken up house in one of the lanterns that hang outside. Luckily, there wasn't a candle in there, or there wouldn't have been room for the three little eggs currently inside. 

Other years, they've gone to a different lantern, one that allowed them to see outside, even though they were quite protected, nearly invisible while inside. 

It will be quite a trick to get the nestlings to perch up on the rim of their 'house' when it's time for them to learn to fly. It's something they always seem to manage though. We'll keep watching. 

And if only it were that easy for people to find themselves with such a thing as low-rent accommodation. 

A different sort of celebration

According to T.S. Eliot, April is the cruelest month, but that's not a sentiment I share. 

As someone who loves poetry, I'd have to counter by saying that April is the coolest month, as that's when we celebrate National Poetry Month in Canada. 

One of my plans for this month is to give away a book of poetry every day in April. For one thing, it's a good way to cull my (admittedly too large) collection of these books. After all, two bookcases full probably means more books of poems than I will be able to reread in the remainder of my life. 

I did something along similar lines back in 2011 when we travelled across the continent of North America. Considering that most of that trip was through the US, I'm sorry to say we won't be repeating that journey this year (and I guess not until 2028). Like so many other Canadians, in conscience we're just not able to cross the border for now. 

The League of Canadian Poets has selected Family as this year's theme, and that's a word that means different things to many of us: blended family, adoptive family, nuclear family, extended family. Or, to interpret it the way that makes the most sense to me: chosen family, those people we hold dear as friends, a new kind of family, chosen at that. 

The books at the top of this page each offer a very different take on contemporary poetry. For more suggestions click here to see a list compiled by the brainy folks at The Tyee.