the tranquility is returning. we walked along the lakeside path this morning, edgar and i. we met others wandering along in the perfect temperature, neither hot or cold, warm or cool. a temperature you don't notice. it gives you the opportunity to see whats around you, let your mind wander. i planned the little pillows i'm making with the gorgeous vintage quilt blocks i found last weekend. flour sack fabrics appliqued on muslin. butterflies. each one different and distinct. so simply and delicately beautiful. i do feel the energy from the woman who pieced these together so many years ago. the perfect marriage of form and function....the necessity to use the scraps and create a warm embracing blanket. but making sure it was interesting and beautiful and fun. i know she enjoyed doing it. the beauty drove her. and the knowledge she wasn't wasting her scraps.

the air was heady with spring scents today. all the cool rain has kept the scents damp and dull. but this afternoon it was suddenly hot and muggy and the air was crowded with lilac and apple blossom and crabapple flavors, all sweet and mingling so i couldn't tell them apart. the flowers aren't opened yet, but tight little lavender or red or pink layers of petals like tiny tight fists. we walked around the block, edgar and i, just as we'd done this morning. but by our evening walk, our little world had changed. and we breathed it in.

the light yesterday was so very lovely. it was warm and bounced through the trees, picking up the glowy new green of the just opening leaves. i had laundry on the line all day...5 loads dried before 4 in the afternoon. it was just that sort of sunny breezy perfect day. i often judge summer days by their laundry drying potential. i spent an hour in the front garden pulling up dead growth from last year. surrounded by the lime balm that always seems to grow quite out of control, making the air and my hands and the compost bag smell better than a bakery. crabby watched me from her spot curled up in the clay chiminea we used for our wedding and is now at home in the front garden. and the eave of the front porch has once again been claimed by a nesting robin. at one point after i'd been barefoot in the grass with my camera for an hour following stella and edgar and floyd around the garden, talking to passing neighbors and breathing in the perfection of it all, i came in to tell tom this was my favorite day of the year so far. i think i'll head out now with edgar and my camera to get started on this new day. it looks like another beauty.

my sweet edgar. we are having a difficult evening. the rain is melting the snow, yes. however, it has turned our yard into an icy, wet, slippery trap for both edgar and me. i've had a few close calls navigating between the house and the studio today. but this evening, after his dinner, edgar slipped on a thick patch of ice as he was stepping onto the porch. his back legs buckled and he was terrified. we've been walking around the block on the street (thankfully no ice there) to stretch him out. and rubbing his neck. and we gave him a syringe full of pain meds. that wonderful warm musky wet dog smell is filling the room now. he's finally asleep. but i think i'll sleep down here on the couch beside him in case he needs me in the night.

it's edgar's birthday. every year we try to make it a nice day for him. special in a doggy kind of way. walks and treats and rubs and more treats. today edgar played in the yard while tom put on the storm windows. and my dad was at the studio cleaning the gardens.....all the glorious weeds and vines gone. but i've learned that they will grow back in the spring. i just hate the naked gardens and i think he took away more this fall than he did last year. so edgar came in from the yard to comfort me. i made christmas ornaments and napkins and a quilt.

six years of beautiful edgar.

i slept in this morning. edgar had called for me at 4 am, as he is known to do.....sometimes the quilt has been kicked off and he's cold. or one of the cats has planted herself firmly atop him and refuses to move, making him feel trapped and unable to move either. and, yes, this is a dog i'm talking about, not a child. this morning his needs were two-fold....he needed a bathroom break in the yard, and one of the pillows was not to his liking. so when i crawled back into bed, the gloomy rainy morning kept me slumbering until 8.30. a slow start this morning. the rain and heavy skies reinforced the knowledge that we are deep into fall and well on our way to winter. the clocks change this weekend. and i've heard christmas songs in the shops.

tomorrow our house is listed and i will go back to more constant and hopefully, uninterrupted, studio time.

walking with a camera & a dog

our walks are my favorite part of the day when the day is fine. there are days when i dread our walk, but once we start i don't want to stop. and there are the days when we just go up the street for a sniff around the park and come right back to the warm house. the last 6 weeks have been full of the last category. but yesterday both edgar and i were anxious to get out into the sun and the warm air. the lake was singing under the ice, the hollow wave music just before the lake breaks through the ice. i love that sound. it is the spring song in our little world. the sun was strong and we wandered among the old limestone mansions and asylums (yes, they sit together on the edge of lake ontario, just steps from our house). there are decrepit old greenhouses that have been inoperable for years. i love all the angles and reflections that i can trap with the camera. it was a perfect way to welcome spring.