He Bakes, He Skors!

There was a time in my youth when I'd go out with friends on a Friday night, have a few drinks and admire all the girls who I'd never get to meet.

Thirty years later, I'm at home baking cupcakes by myself on a Friday night.

Good things come to those who wait.          

Sprung!

These are a few of my favourite things: magnolia blossoms, tulipes rouge, and PGM rhoddies. The garden is not yet looking lush but there are enough splashes of colour that you just know the show is about to begin.

Got Yer Nose featuring Me Mootha

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UhI-zfEuLXk&feature=youtu.be

Mootha was quite animated yesterday so I decided to shoot some video. You can click on the link above if you care to watch it. I don't think she likes having her nose tweaked...or does she? Bugger!

Here Comes Franklin

Turtles have had a way of appearing in my life for about forty years now. When I was little I had a pet turtle that came from a pet store. In the wilds, turtles can live for decades. Mine died quickly and we flushed him down the toilet. Vivid, traumatic memories.

My mother, bless her heart, found another way to entertain me with turtles, as in 'Mmmmm, I love TURTLES'. You know the ones, they're a delicious combination of chocolate, caramel, pecans, modified palm oil, lactose, battery acid, ground up turtle shell, and ear wax. Add enough glucose and....Mmmmm, I love TURTLES!™

When Julian was little we had two encounters with turtles. One time we found a turtle attempting to cross the rod along the Lower Jemseg flats. We worried about the turtle safely making it across the road, so we escorted him. This PETA-worthy act was carried out with great pageantry and back slapping (slapping my own back). I was hoping that Juilian would see me as a caring, conscientious animal lover, thus negating the bad press I received as a Bambi slayer.

The second turtle encounter with Julian involved a kid's cartoon/book based on the life of a turtle-like character called Franklin. I don't remember what Franklin did in the cartoon, but one can only assume that he wore a baseball hat that somehow didn't get knocked off when he retracted his head into his shell. I think he played baseball with some friends, many of whom were vermin. There was also a theme song to this show, which Julian later 'borrowed' to sing about two golden retrievers. If I grew two heads, took LSD and had mind bending hallucinations, I couldn't imagine anything more outrageous than Franklin.

Yesterday I was driving to the Gagetown ferry when I saw something on the road ahead. Same location...turtle alley, just past Andrew and Nancy's place. I'll bet it was the same turtle that Julian and I encountered 17 years earlier. He more or less looked at me with a 'you again?' expression on his face. I didn't help him across the road this time as I'm not sure that he was looking to cross it. I thinking he was waiting for a ride somewhere, likely to a baseball game. 

He was a handsome creature: striped, painted, shelled. I was happy to see him because....

Mmmmm, I love TURTLES!™

Hood n' Houses

The Leroy House (2013)

The Aune House (2012)

 As I peer across the lake every morning, I see the three houses pictured. Two were built within the last year, and one was built almost two hundred years ago.

The most interesting fact about these houses is that they're all occupied by descendants of the 1816 Robinson family house and they all sit on Robinson family land.

There's something nice about continuity and family heritage. I'm not saying that I'm going to move to Blackhill, or become the Lord of Fyvie Castle, or put a bid in on Brighton Court. I'm very happy with my lot in life. At about an acre, it's just the right size.

I wonder if Julian will one day want our property or if Wendy and I should eventually sell it and buy a spaceship or something intergalactic. We could pull a Major Tom and blast off into the ether.

I was watching aVH-1 Legends biography of David Bowie last night.

The Robinson House (1816)

That should explain my proposed space odyssey.

Remington Steel Magnolias

They say 'good things come to those who wait'. I'll bet that saying is popular with lethargic people, food servers, TTC customers, and magnolia growers!

At least ten years ago, when I was but a boy in my thirties, I planted a magnolia tree that my parents gave to me. For a decade or more, it's been a lovely shrub. Or is it a bush? Or a tree? It's been a nice looking stick with green things on it, but no flowers. None. Zippo. Zilch.

Until 2013.

This year my magnolia is blossoming happily. It's a limited run of blossoms, perhaps thirty, but what a treat. The blossoms are just starting so I've only illustrated a single one. I'll update this blog posting once the entire blooming tree is flowering. They smell good too, like a southern belle.

What exactly does a southern belle smell like, Ian? Have you ever had an olfactory encounter with a southern bell? Were you not worried her Remington pump-action daddy would shoot you? Or worse....like live in the Bible Belt?

Okay, okay...they, the magnolia blossoms, smell pleasant and, no, I've never been to Georgia. I have been to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, and it smelled like bad country music, ragged dollar bills and tired sidewalks. I've put South Carolina out of my mind, unlike Georgia.

Sometimes when I write one of my blog posts, I feel compelled to do some inane research. Today's topic: steel magnolias. There was a movie by the same name, and I wondered what it meant. Here's what my exhaustive research returned:

If you are called a "steel magnolia" by someone, take it as a compliment. It is a Southern term that means a woman who is tough, strong, yet sweet and feminine. She has the toughness and strength of steel when it comes to family, hard times, and sad times. However, she has the loving tenderness and inner beauty that shines through.


I'm trying to think if I know anyone who qualifies as a steel magnolia. I do know someone who is a steel haggis. She's as gentle as a bouquet of heather blossoms, but when times are tough she's as strong as an Edinburgh rock.

A Test Of The Emergency Broadcast System

I've heard stories of how municipalities and/or businesses have used opera music to rid an area of dubious characters. Though we have ample operatic 'firepower' in our arsenal, rock n' roll is more our style. 

Remember...this was just a test.