the carrot, not the stick...

 it is currently -8°C (14°F), feeling like -18°C (1­°F), as i begin. i just got through nearly dislocating my (already injured) shoulder by wrenching open a door that was frozen shut. oh… and i am battling my first head cold of the season. 

happy Winter Solstice, everyone!

what was so important that it was worth the risk of (re)injury, you ask? an agreement that cannot be broken, i respond. i was concerned that the birds and the squirrels would not realize that there was food in their special bowl, so i ventured out just long enough to brush away some of the snow and top it up with a handful of (unfrozen) food. 

selfless as it may seem, this is actually a carefully calculated investment. i developed a significant case of SAD-ness last Winter, and i ended up befriending a squirrel. my new friend started showing up every day for lunch, and i obliged by sharing my food. the problem with feeding Nature is that you end up also feeding Nature’s friends. fast-forward to the present, and we are buying raw peanuts and bird feed by the kilo. lucky for me, Nature has the coolest friends! 

i was initially afraid that feeding Nature would result in the total destruction of this Summer’s balcony garden project. turns out, Nature responds much better to the carrot, not the stick. 

i was so convinced that the squirrels would take my Wintertime offerings as an invitation to consume everything, that i planted a test-run garden in one of the window boxes. i went with plants that could withstand the cold, as it was still early in the season. enter… lettuce and nasturtiums! 

i had already accepted the likelihood of finding it uprooted the next day, and having to reconsider our plans for the transplants we had already ordered from the nursery. what happened, you ask? absolutely nothing, i respond. we harvested the larger lettuce leaves every couple-few days, and the plants kept going for several weeks, before bolting. 

and, just like that, an understanding was formed. we made a daily offering to Nature, and our plants remained undisturbed. it sounds too simple to be true, but the carrot really worked, and i rewarded their self-control by occasionally adding something special to the mix. the birds and the squirrels all seem to enjoy the petals and seeds from the zinnias. they gobbled up any flowers that fell to the ground, but they never messed with the plants. so, i might include that in the mix.

or, an occasional sweet treat, just for the squirrels. yes, i eat Honeycomb cereal. have i lost your respect for that? 

i placed sections of chicken wire on top of the soil, to discourage the squirrels from digging there, but they left everything else alone. everything, that is, except for the mini sunflower. it was downright comical having to move that one pot around, and every new location seemed to further enrage the squirrel. that poor sunflower must have done something extra-wrong in a past life.

there was also that time we took too long getting out of bed, so the squirrel let itself in to get some peanuts. i kid you not… the squirrel figured out how to open the safety latches on the cat door, and it came in for breakfast. nothing else was disturbed. the squirrel had one target, and when it had satisfied that hunger, it went right back out the kitty door. i should point out that the cat absolutely refuses to use the flap, as she enjoys the frustration of making me open and close doors at her command. so, i just shook my head in defeat and taped it shut. 

the season quickly drew to a close. the large planters were covered and neatly stacked for the Winter, and the last harvest of beans was consumed with ramen. i have gotten much better at resisting the allure of wheaty things (allergies, if you are new here), but i still indulge every now and then.  

 still, Nature kept showing up.

sometimes, it brought a date. it took weeks to finally get a shot of these two together, as the female (i assume, as she is the smaller of the two) takes off at the slightest movement. their coloring becomes slightly washed out in the Winter, and they start looking less blue, and more like silvery-violet jays.

you enjoy that meal, friend. 

i took tons of photos of this year’s garden, and i plan hope to share more of them. maybe i will do so during the SADdest part of Winter, when i need to be reminded of the existence of sunshine and warmth. 

until then, i am taking all of the precautions to avoid a relapse of last Winter. most of all, i am making plans. 

next year's balcony garden project will be the best one yet. that is, if we manage to survive the Winter… and the (literal) gangs of turkeys that have been attacking people all over the city. Montreal is wild, for real. 

April in (not) Paris...

there is also my other favorite new thing. kinda looks like a bowl of spaghetti and uncooked brain, no? it is not food, but does come with a bit of a sweet backstory.

you see... i had a childhood friend named April, although no one—including her family— ever called her that. we went to the same private school in Brooklyn, where we were part of a friendship quintet of sorts. the title of my best friend, however, went to one of the other girls in that clique. 

then, everything changed when high school attacked!

our quintet parted ways, and all of those friendships quickly evaporated... except for April. our families lived in different parts of the City (mine in Brooklyn, hers in Queens), and we went to high schools in different parts of the City (mine in lower Manhattan, hers in the north Bronx). still... she quickly became my most-trusted confidant, and my (occasional) accomplice in mischief... before, during, or after the fact, as required. she was my best friend!  

April went to a college several states away, and she remained several states away. her family had experienced some difficulties, and they chose to pick up the pieces and carry on closer to where she was. we never tried to force "keeping in touch". after so much sorrow and loss, i understood why she wanted to stay gone. 

and, just like that... i lost my best friend. 

i bring up all of this because her name—although no one ever called her that—and the memory of that friendship is the only positive thing i have to say about "April". as far as the calendar is concerned... April is dead to me!

January and February can be a battle for your sanity in this ridiculously cold place, but April...? April is a treacherous, back-stabbing bi... April sucks! 

there i was, repotting some seedlings, and foolishly making plans for this year's balcony garden project...

when April in Montreal happened. fifteen(ish) years in this place, and it still gets me every single time.

him: there is a snowfall warning in effect for Quebec and the Greater Montreal Area.

me: say what, now?

him: there is a snowfall warning in effect for Quebec and the Greater Montreal Area... if we even get any snow at all. 

the next day. 

i felt sorry for Norbert. he looks like Tyrone Biggums waiting to score. bonus point if you got that. 

i am genuinely embarrassed for having spent the past few months feeding this menace.

we are gonna have to start claiming his peanut allowance as a business expense for the studio. can you draw or write a script, Norbert? 

naturally, i was feeling betrayed—yet again— by this deceitful month. so, i dyed some yarn... and i kept on dyeing, until i came up with a new favorite! i see falling cherry blossoms and pink and white tulips in bloom. you know... things that normally happen in Spring. 

i am calling this one April in (not) Paris. 

trust me when i say that this one is special. the yarn consists of a cotton mesh tube knitted around a polyamide core. acid dyes (the stuff i use on wool) works on polyamide... but not on cotton. in essence, i dyed the core of the yarn, and left the outer layer the original color. 

i went with the slow immersion technique to achieve a gradient in the color (433 Strawberry Red, which seems to be unavailable at present). i love how different this yarn looks going from wet to dry. 

i dyed 400 grams of this yarn, which should be enough for a garment for self, and i made sure to keep the knot in the center of the lightest section. this is the sort of thing my brand of OCD demands. best of all, it is totally wool free, which means i can wear it with zero allergy concerns.  so... yay, me!!!

now, pardon me while i crank the thermostat back up (as the overnight temperature will be hovering near freezing), and maybe listen to some music for old folks, while i work on a puzzle. see you in May... maybe. 

be SAD with me...

there are some conversations you should never be having. but, here we are. 

me: oh, good! the balcony door appears to be unfrozen today, so i can finally get a few shots in the snow of that yarn i just spent the weekend spinning in a desperate attempt at hanging on to some thread of sanity amidst all this gloom and misery you call a country. 

him: okay, but make sure you hurry up and do that... before the Arctic Rain starts.

seriously!

so, i wrapped myself up in my favorite fleecy blanket, and went silently out into the (slightly less) gloom and cold. i considered weeping, but tears would just freeze. 

how much do i love this man, you ask?

yes! 

so, i took my photos.

those tracks in the snow belong to Norbert. we have lunch together some days. like i said... stuff should not be happening. but, here we are.

then i went back indoors, to reexamine (yet again) every single decision i have ever made in my entire existence.

craziest part is... i keep commenting about how mild this Winter is, relatively speaking. sure, we had TWO ice storms last week, but they did not even bother closing the schools or anything. so, really... no big deal, right? i mean... we have not had a single Polar Vortex yet. that is when the locals become concerned. until then... it is just me here... alone... losing my mind one gray, sunless day at a time. 

did i mention that we had like ten days of anything resembling "sunshine" for the entire month of January? madness.

so, please.... come be SAD with me, as i endeavor on a month of daily posts (which i am already regretting). there will be a lot of complaining about the absence of joy that is Winter in Montreal, but (mostly) it will be me documenting the random nonsense i do in the name of Sanity. 

a little place called "What If"...

i am sat up in bed, with an animator snoring away next to me and a cat curled up between us under the blanket, also sleeping peacefully. it is a slice of something resembling domestic bliss, and i am cherishing the moment. 

every now and then i peer out though a tunnel of leafy limbs to a tree about half a city block away from here. it has gone a deep shade of fluorescent-pink that puts me in mind of Cyndi Lauper's hair back in the day. trust me, the photo does not do it justice, as my camera seems reluctant to believe that anything that color really does exist. 

there is also a little squirrel taking a nap just a few feet away from the window, with his tail wrapped around his body like a cozy blanket. even the local wildlife seems to be feeling the effect of the advancing cold. 

we have arrived (yet again) at the time of year when my so-not-Canadian-ness is on full display. like when i climbed out of bed Sunday morning to discover that my bedroom had been transformed into a walk-in freezer...

me: it's so cold. 

him: (pausing briefly to "test" the air) i guess it's a bit fresh.

me: you Canadians with your "fresh". it is freezing! i'm cold, so i'm turning on the heat.

him: really???

that last bit was said like i had just announced my plan to jump out an airplane using a bra-cup for a parachute. his Canadian-ness may be keeping him insulated against the rapidly-advancing frost, but it is the blood of the tropics that flows through my veins. it may (only) be the first week of October, but the heat is on! i have zero regrets. 

the highlight of this past weekend was the removal of the bug screens from the windows (and the balcony door) so that we can spend the Winter months enjoying unobstructed views of... well... snow. yes, life really is terribly exciting around here. 

the balcony garden project has similarly been put to rest for the season. there are two large heads of celery waiting to be harvested, but all the other containers have been covered up for the year. it is always surreal to look out at the space that just a few weeks ago was a near-impregnable mini-jungle, and all that remains now is a lifeless row of double-stacked containers waiting to be covered in... well... snow. 

on the more serious side of life, the city of Montreal has (once again) tightened restrictions in light of the ongoing emergency, so we are fully prepared for a long Winter of little-to-no contact with the outside world.... more of the same really. the social isolation is not proving to be a problem for either of us, as we tend to be loners (together). however, i have to admit that i have had quite a few sleepless nights of late, and i spend many a waking hour struggling to keep my mind from wandering down the path to a little place called "What If". 

the one glimmer of joy that has emerged from the constant search for distractions is that i have returned (tentatively) to my crafting of things. i am still not ready to pull the cover off the sewing machine, but i have purchased a few new patterns in the recent weeks and i plan hope to put them to use in the near future. in the meantime, i have been knitting. 

that gold yarn i was so in love with last time around is well on its way to becoming a new sweater for self. i cast this on literally right after i hit "publish" on the previous post, and i really wanted to have it done before the end of September, but... distractions. it will be finished one of these days.

the pair of socks that i had spent all Spring/Summer mostly ignoring were finally finished and passed along to the animator. this is the Bavarian Cable Socks from the Socks From the Toe Up book by Wendy D. Johnson. i knit this pair in some yarn i dyed in a colorway i am calling "koi pond"...because it is!

the design features all-over traveling cables that have the effect of leaving the socks all scrunched up right off the needles.

so i gave them a soak, and left them to dry on sock-blockers, which i purchased expressly for this ridiculous pair of socks. they looked fantastic the next day.

i cannot begin to explain how much i (still) despise knitting socks, especially when there are cables involved. naturally, he loves the bloody things. they were on his feet seconds after i handed them over. good grief! [random aside: he is blaming my camera for the paleness of his legs in this photo. i am not sure how to break the unfortunate news to him.] 

i vowed never to knit another pair of socks, then i sat down to watch a podcast on the You Tubes in which the host mentioned that she was participating in something called "socktober" (which is exactly what it sounds like). problem is, she happened to mention this just as he was walking by. you could hear him screech to a cartoon-like halt at the mention of that word. 

him: did she just say "socktober"?

me: i think you're hearing things.

him: nope. i heard it. it's a thing. you are making me socks for socktober.

all of the protest that followed was for naught, as he was already busy selecting his next pair of hand-knit socks. he settled on a pattern called Sea Oats, and i was given the immense responsibility of selecting the yarn from my stash. 

i had dyed a couple skeins of sock yarn in one of my desperate attempts at distraction, so i narrowed it down to those two. one colorway is "Grand Bay" and the other is "Zombie Apocalypse". ten points if you can guess which is which.

having made my final choice, i divided the yarn into two even (by weight) balls. now i just need to muster something resembling enthusiasm to get started on his next pair of custom-made socks... any day now. 

what the...

there has been no snow or freezing rain for more than a week now, so i am going to take the bold move of declaring a start to iced-coffee season. yes, we are still getting overnight frost warnings in this part of the globe, but that only really affects folks who have a field of crops to worry about. so, yeh... i think Winter may actually... finally... be done. cheers!

naturally, this is the time of year when i usually have seedlings waiting to go for the balcony garden project, but we have not taken a trip to the nursery yet because... well... you know. instead, we ordered seedlings from a new-to-us supplier. they should be delivered in time for the customary Victoria Day start of the gardening season in these parts, which is the eighteenth of May this time around. i will never get used to having to wait this late in the year to plant anything outdoors. such an odd country this is. 

speaking of the balcony garden project, the animator started removing the covers from the containers, and he was greeted with the first fern fronds, poised to unfurl any day now. it is so heartening to be reminded that life carries on. 

you can almost feel that tension before those leaves open up.

he has some wacky plan brewing to squirrel-proof this year's garden, but i honestly stopped listening after "i can get some two-by-fours...", because i already know that nothing good ever comes after that. 

and speaking of squirrels...

i was transferring some photos from my camera one recent evening, when i noticed a strange new thing on the big maple tree. i had been trying—but mostly failing—to get a shot of a bird that was hopping from branch-to-branch, so this odd bulge had escaped my attention earlier that day. 

me: what the...?

him: what do you think it is?

me: don't know. could be some kind of mushroom and the cap hasn't opened up yet.

then we spent a minute or two joking that we might have to harvest it if the test-run-apocalypse gets worse. 

me: you do know that most of the mushrooms you stumble upon in the wild will probably kill you, right?

him: if it gets bad enough that we need to climb a massive tree to get one mushroom, we're probably gonna die anyway. we might as well have something interesting for our last meal. 

me: true.

it was my intention to give this strange new thing a closer look the next day, but it was gone by the time i got out of bed to feed the cats.

me: maybe the squirrels ate it.

him: good. i hope they die, then they can't ruin my garden again this year.

not gonna lie... i agree one-hundred-percent with that sentiment. 

so, i went back to the original image and zoomed in on that small section, and just stared at it for a while, trying to figure out what it was. then the old proverbial light bulb went on in my head. if you squint a bit, you will note that the bottom-right section of the bulge appears to have been chewed away, reveling a white substance on the inside, and that there is an interesting series of lines on the outer surface. that last part was the biggest clue.

me: i know that it is!

him: what?

then i showed him this... and we just shook our heads. those bloody squirrels!

Jultember: Mother Nature's candid camera...

[random aside: i am drinking ginger ale out of a wine glass, because i am fancy like that.]

with my favorite animator out of town, i have been forced to spend more time on the balcony than i am used to, as he handles most of the day-to-day care of the outdoor plants. why is that, you ask? because vertigo, i respond. pretty much.

i was harvesting some tomatoes this morning, when i noticed that the lemon balm had gotten a bit out of control again, so i decided to do another round of thinning it out so it does not overcrowd the peppers. problem was, that container is at the far corner of the balcony, meaning that i had to take more than one large step out of the door to reach it.

so, there i was, in full-blown panic mode, when i noticed some guy out on his balcony about half a block away, and he was leaning on the railing with what i presumed to be his phone in hand, looking in my direction. so now there would be an audience for when the panic peaks and i manage to injure myself in the resulting dis-orientation overload... and it would probably end up on You Tube.

his presence there only served to increase the panic i was already experiencing, so i hurriedly collected the lemon balm and double-checked that i had closed the anti-squirrel cages around the tomato plants before taking the few steps that would bring me back to the safety of the doors. naturally, he was still watching.

i wanted to wave hello at this point with a tomato in one hand and a bouquet of lemon balm in the other, but that would be a violation of my introverted curmudgeon code. so i just sat down in the doorway and took stock of my morning's harvest while waiting for that feeling like i was on three roller-coasters at once to go away.

vertigo is one of those things that you have to experience to be able to fully understand it. even then, it does not make sense. no exaggeration... i used to have to get rescued from not-tall trees all the time back when i was a very young lunatic. similarly, i used to sit on the park swing and rock back and forth a bit, but my feet never left the ground. even now there is a firm understanding in place in our home that should there ever be an emergency that requires us to exit via the fire escape, he will have to clobber me over the head till i black out, then drag/carry/shove me to safety, because there is no universe in which i am ever setting foot out on that contraption.

why then am i living four-and-a-half floors above ground level, you ask? because i like the view, i respond. seriously, we are at canopy-level with the big  trees, and it is breathtaking most days. there is an almost-forgotten world of activity in a treetop, and it is right there at eye-level. you could be standing there, sipping a hot beverage, and a hawk would go flying by so close that you feel like you could almost reach out and touch its wings... though i do not recommend giving that a try. and, while i genuinely wish the squirrels would stop invading my space, there is so much humor and even the occasional touch of awe to be found in their antics up in the treetops.

have you ever observed a squirrel as it prepares for a rainstorm? i have. they chomp through the end portion of small branches, then drag the tuft of leaves back to their nest-hole where they lay one tuft on top of another until they have a thick enough layer to keep out the rain... kinda like layering palm leaves atop a small hut. problem is, squirrels are just possibly the most inefficient builders in existence, and they usually end up dropping the vast majority of the leafy branches, which go sailing to the ground. it is like watching Mother Nature's candid camera when they are in storm-prep mode. if you ever walk or drive down a tree-lined street and see the leafy-ends of lots of branches strewn about on the ground, just know that there is a squirrel somewhere up above your head trying desperately to storm-proof.

i should add a bit of a post-script regarding my tomatoes yesterday. i think i may have started something. i was describing the process to my mom as i was making it, so she decided to make it with her tomatoes. then i showed the photos to my favorite animator (who is still at his parent's place), so he gave it a go today with some of the tomatoes from their garden. it was a hit all around.

guess where this little guy is gonna end up...!

Jultember: a quiet Saturday evening...

i dropped a lemon-zinger tea bag into a quart-sized jar of water and filled a bowl with chunks of cantaloupe before settling on my favorite sofa, so you know another wild Saturday night is about to ensue. hopefully the neighbors will not call the cops again like they did last time it got this rowdy around here.

Summer is winding down rapidly around these parts, and you can already see splashes of orange, red, and gold among the treetops. most telling of all is the return to sleeping curled up under the blanket and the ever-present cup of hot tea during the waking part of the day.

i really love this time of year.

there was a bit of a lull at the end of the Summer, and we had planned to use some of that time to tackle a few projects around our place. there are still a couple rooms to be re-painted since we moved... more than two years ago. we also had plans to reupholster both of the sofas, which we feel slightly-less incompetent at attempting following the recent disaster-free revamp of the dining room chairs. there was also talk of renting a sander and refinishing the living room and dining room floors.

the Universe, however, does not take plans into consideration when deciding which things should be thrown askew. so he is off at his parent's place for a while, and i am holding down our little fort. so it is a quiet Saturday evening for one... instead of the usual slightly-less quiet Saturday evening for two.

perhaps it is for the best i was alone, because i was watering the plants as the sun was setting, when i spotted something in the corner of one of the troughs.

clearly the plan of leaving the cherry tomatoes uncovered to distract the squirrel away from the two larger tomato plants is not having the desired effect.

i sent him the photos, and he was highly amused. if he was home, this would have been seen as a definite escalation of the ongoing hostility between him and the squirrel. however, as it is my problem for the while, he finds the whole thing hilarious.

as for that squirrel... (s)he is about to find out that i am the mean one around here.

Jultember: squirrels are arses...

i am nursing a doozie of a headache, thanks in no small part to the absolute chaos that has befallen our home in the past few days. you see, our balcony had to be rebuilt (literally). this meant that everything that was out on the balcony had to be moved.

i should point out that this is the same balcony that serves as the titular setting of our balcony garden project. this means that all of those pots and the plants growing in them had to be moved... into the living room... which meant that the living room furniture had to also be moved... into the dining room. i can feel that vein behind my left eyeball starting to throb again.

i tried my best to find poetry in the experience. this almost looks like a quiet little corner of what might be a charming and inviting room.

but turn around, and is is total chaos of a different kind.

it makes far more sense to have a pot of ferns and hostas in a corner where a sofa used to be... no?

moving the outdoor plants indoors means that the indoor plants that usually occupy the space next to the glass doors also had to be moved. there is even more than this, trust me. it is chaos with three extra zeros.

then he grabbed his ever-present pruners, and went into Mr. Miyagi mode with a tomato plant inside a wire cage. [i have spoken in the past about this behavior.]

the only solace in all of this is that i got to spend some time amongst my plants, as there is no real room to hang out on the balcony when it is overflowing with greenery.

i love the look of this hibiscus flower that is about to unfurl.

this also means that i do not have to get out of bed at five in the morning to give everything a dousing with pepper spray in an effort to deter the squirrels. the trough of strawberries is an especially popular target of squirrely antics. why are so many of my plants wrapped in chicken wire, you ask? because squirrels are arses, i respond.