Mini-holiday

To celebrate our anniversary and enjoy the last few days before Mark started his new job, we went to Lake Placid for a long weekend. 

We did do a couple of hikes but no High Peaks this time, because it was colder than we anticipated, and there was actually snow at the tops! We don't have the right gear to deal with ice/snow (without hauling out our snowshoes), plus with the limited amount of daylight these days, we thought it best to relax and do some shorter hikes. So we did Baxter and Haystack Mountain (not to be confused with Mount Haystack which IS a High Peak). Here are a few of the many highlights:

Wee fabric house

Small house for big dreams...

I made this little (6" tall) fabric house from new and upcycled fabrics. I wanted it to look very hobbit-like; a quaint little Pixie dwelling. Though it took a long time, it was fun to make, and hand-stitching the details was my favourite part (so zen!). I could have easily gotten carried away and pimped it out even more (shutters, curtains on the inside, more flowers: perhaps some climbing roses?). In real life, I think this little house would be one of these; specifically this one! 

This is the first one I've ever made, but I have plans for future wee fabric houses, perhaps with dormers, chimneys, and I've even contemplated turrets. Someone's going to have to stop me when I start thinking about moats and drawbridges...

The elephant "poster" is a fabric scrap from Umbrella prints.

Four years ago today

Was a good day.   :)

Photography by the wickedly talented Michael Moore.

Georgian Bay beauty

Narrow slivers of land. Gnarly west-wind trees. Dramatic rock formations. There is a special and stunning beauty that is unique to Georgian Bay. When you're on the edge of it, gazing out at the seemingly endless expanse of water before you, you feel the same humbling insignificance you feel when in the presence of a large mountain or a large tree. There is something incomprehensible about it. Mysterious. Something wise and knowing. But there is also something comforting about the starkness. The elemental simplicity resonates with me, especially on those still, grey days. I like to sit at the very edge, where the water meets the land, and just enjoy being there. (Pisces much?)

Georgian Bay is a chameleon too. At times dramatic and angry and thrashing, and others perfectly serene and still. And the water is never the same colour. Infinite hues of grey: steel, charcoal, pewter, silver, opalescent, shimmering metallic...

And then there's the rocks. With dramatic striations of a contrasting colour. Some look like soft peaks of whip cream, frozen. Some look like they've had giant scratches etched into their surface. Others are perfectly smooth and round, and still others look like many rocks melded together, with all of their colours and textures. And all of them spotted with delicate lace-like lichens. It's a beauty like nowhere else.

Climbing the walls

Go, monkey, go!

I went rock-climbing this week for the first time. It's something I've been wanting to try for years, but somehow it just never happened. But our friend ST suggested it, so we went! And it was so much fun! As a first-timer, I stuck mostly to the green routes, only daring to move outside of that almost-comfort zone to try a slightly tougher route at the end of the night. 

My first run up I started out over-confident and made it up the first quarter no problem, then past the half with no worries, but then the hand-holds seemed to get a little smaller, and a little farther apart, and then I looked down, and then I started questioning the ropes (is this gauge thick enough?), and the pulleys (I've seen Cliffhanger, those things break like a pretzel!), and the holds themselves (how are these things attached?)... Ok! Let me down now! I'm good! But to repel down you need to let go. And though you know this, you remain, stuck to the wall, muscles quivering, not letting go. I've got you, it's ok, let go, he says. That was the scariest part, letting go of the wall.

I can see how this can be a mental sport. There were several times where I was thinking too much and psyching myself out. But rather than call it quits, I just stuck to the green routes and it got easier (mentally), though my sit-at-a-desk-all-day-mouse-clicking muscles were freaking out. My forearms have never been more sore.

I think Mark has a natural advantage with a greater arm span combined with greater upper body strength.

Change is good

I love fall. I've said many times that it's my New Year. A time of change, of setting new intentions, slowing down. There is a great sense of happy hopefulness in the air. It makes me want to cozy up with a good book and some tea after a nice hike in the woods.

So, in this spirit of change, I say goodbye to my old header, and hello to a new one!

Old header: the fairy-tale mountain village of Meglisalp, in the Alpstein range of Switzerland.

New: the port town of Marina Grande on the island of Capri, Italy. A very dreamy place that is it's own island world.

Good morning!

It's a beautiful day! Eleven blooms this morning: a new record.

UPDATE: Though I couldn't capture them all in one photo, I counted 18 morning glories just the other day!