A bike hike into town

I want to Blog!

I've been away so long I think I've forgotten how,

I lost all my blog friends,

I've been so blog lonely lately and don't know where to start.

Breathe!

 

Let me start by saying, "I"m sorry". Sorry for staying away, and sorry for not just jumping on here to say, "hey, I've been busy with our tourism year and not had a chance to visit you or to blog."

 

Forgive me?

Nice, thank you!

 

Yesterday,

I gave some time to exercise,contemplating and cobwebs. First thing was getting the cobwebs off my bike, second was contemplating how windy it really was, third thing was pushing past the wind and getting that all needed exercise. So I biked into Charlottetown, to Wendy's in fact for a favourite of mine, come bike wiht me.

The day wonderful,

the salad was the apple, pecan with roasted chicken, oh magnificent,

and then a stop at the grocery store to pick up a little that always turns into a lot.

The ride home pushed past cow pastures and hay fields, the memory strikes me vividly - I was looking down at the pee gravel path when the strong smell of fresh cut field caught my attention. The sun was jumping through the hedge row that lined both sides of the Confederation Trail and I came to a short small clearing pointing to where the fresh hay smell came from. Just as I cleared the hedge row a box on the back of a tractor pooped out a large bail, giggling over the ordeal as I thought of #6 grand-daughter and how she finds humour in everything. I pushed on past, realizing although the trail was a safer ride it was 4 klm longer than If I'd rode from town on the highway.

Home with the groceries.

The Asian pears were on sale but heavy for the ride.

Hummus on the bottom of the pile and pita to the right. The back is everything bagels - two only because I had to buy to get the sale price and herb cream cheese to go with.

Nice fruit, very watery, not so sweet but gritty. Hubby likes them and they were on sale. I tried to imagine these heavy things growing on a tree and my imagination saw them all falling to the ground.

Thank you for stopping by,

If you have come this far leave me a short note so I can return the visit and start my routine back up again.

Take care,

We care,

Cindy

 

 

 

 

 

~00~ Grandma (aka Cindy) or Crafting - http://scrapandwrap.ca

 

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A Drive IN a DAy

I've internet and

so I"m back at my computer

We started out this morning in Brandon, Manitoba and finished the day in Regina, Saskatchewan.

 

flocks on the flatlands

We visited a few bigs along the way like this big Elk

Rocanville, Sascatchewan had a big oil can

Indian Head, Saskatchen had a big head

 

We rocked back and forth on a sway bridge in Wolesley, SK and just in case you want to ever visit it is on Sherbrooke street.

I almost forgot the antique tractors in Elkhorn, Sk

I rubbed a rock

Saw a round barn made from field stone that has 27 horse stalls and a penthouse on top

 

Qu' Appelle River Valley on the way to Fort Qu' Appelle, amazing hills and river created from glaciers

plenty of already harvested fields

Good night all,

Until our next internet connection this has been a day.

Cindy

 

 

 

 

 

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When The Frost is on the Pumpkin

Last night it went down to zero

blurry but nevertheless I finally got my photos to sync with my tablet so I have to share something.

Sort of looks frosty doesn't it?

well the frost will be

on the pumkin tonight.

That got me to thinking about the meaning of the frost is on the Pumpkin and I asked my Human Dictionary the French Gardener and he said he'd never heard of it. I had a different understanding of the term and didn't want to use it on my blog if it weren't appropriate, you know!.

So I went to my Visual Dictionary the Google and found this

Urban Dictionary for "The Frost is on the Pumpkin"
Time for making love. After the hard work of the harvest is done, and to relieve the pent-up tension of not being able to mate because of sweltering August weather (you know - sleeping on the porch, all the windows open, etc...). Also copulation at this time traditionally brought pregnancy to term after spring planting but well before the next year's harvest.

When the weather's hot and sticky there's no time for dunkin' dickie; when the frost is on the punkin that's the time for dickie dunkin'!

"When the Frost is on the Punkin"

WHEN the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock,

And you hear the kyouck and gobble of the struttin' turkey-cock,

And the clackin' of the guineys, and the cluckin' of the hens,

And the rooster's hallylooyer as he tiptoes on the fence;

O, it's then the time a feller is a-feelin' at his best,

With the risin' sun to greet him from a night of peaceful rest,

As he leaves the house, bareheaded, and goes out to feed the stock,

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

They's something kindo' harty-like about the atmusfere

When the heat of summer's over and the coolin' fall is here—

Of course we miss the flowers, and the blossoms on the trees,

And the mumble of the hummin'-birds and buzzin' of the bees;

But the air's so appetizin'; and the landscape through the haze

Of a crisp and sunny morning of the airly autumn days

Is a pictur' that no painter has the colorin' to mock—

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

The husky, rusty russel of the tossels of the corn,

And the raspin' of the tangled leaves as golden as the morn;

The stubble in the furries—kindo' lonesome-like, but still

A-preachin' sermuns to us of the barns they growed to fill;

The strawstack in the medder, and the reaper in the shed;

The hosses in theyr stalls below—the clover overhead!—

O, it sets my hart a-clickin' like the tickin' of a clock,

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

Then your apples all is gethered, and the ones a feller keeps

Is poured around the cellar-floor in red and yaller heaps;

And your cider-makin's over, and your wimmern-folks is through

With theyr mince and apple-butter, and theyr souse and sausage too!...

I don't know how to tell it—but ef such a thing could be

As the angels wantin' boardin', and they'd call around on me—

I'd want to 'commodate 'em—all the whole-indurin' flock—

When the frost is on the punkin and the fodder's in the shock.

James Whitcomb Riley. 1853–1916

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The French Gardener, "Well I never heard of that"

I guess y'd need to be a ferm'r to know, I must have some ferm'r in me.

Happy Thanksgiving

Hope you are having pumpkin pie

Cindy

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