Labour of Love — A Gift from my Mother

It took me a while to break the news to my mother that we were going cruising. I knew she would ask all those questions to which we had no answers and I knew she would worry — that’s what mother’s do!

Once my Mom got over her initial sadness, and stopped imagining us slamming into waves the size of whales and stopped picturing the keel of Summer Love being ripped off by a partly submerged container and realized that we’d sooner get run over by a taxi in Cape Town, she set to work and made us this beautiful quilt.

Starting with the mariner’s compass my mother carefully cut out around the pattern pieces and sewed them together. She pieced together the stars, the planets and the sunbursts before adding the rows of flying geese — her subtle way of suggesting that we too fly south during the long, cold winters.  

We have returned, only twice in the past four years, but delight in this gift every day.

Note to self:  Perhaps we should take the hint!

[Top photograph: Quilt on Summer Love

 Middle photograph: Quilt on Lily B]

Twinkle Toes.

The sun’s out, I should be dancing!

Dreaming of Greece and the Isle of Simi.  

(When we were cruising we are always up early, sometimes too early.  

There were plenty of photo opportunities, but not many for breakfast.)

On The Origins of Veal Piccata.   

Flatten the veal with a good pounding and dust with flour. Add a glug of olive oil and a knob of butter to a hot pan.  

Fry the veal.  (The recipe instructs:  ”On both sides.” … is this not obvious?) Remove from pan and place on a warm plate.  The plate MUST be warm.  

Use a good splash of white wine to deglaze the pan.

No.  Wait.  

Don’t use wine.  Naturally select a Dry Vermouth.

Drink the wine.

That’s my theory.

Go Walkabout

Still Downtown Anacortes:

My early walk took me past supply stores and cottages and then a private parking space-cum-garden where bundles of newspapers were stacked in rows to form the ‘boxes’ for raised beds ! 

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The gardener told me that he was into his fourth season of spinach and kale and cherry tomatoes.

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Genius.

Now, when I need fresh vegetables … 

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I have to find a supermarket.

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A Short Story

The bear’s head in the window made me stop.

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I looked up at the sign

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and went in.

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The shelves were brimming with boxes and a sign overhead read:

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The owner saw me reading it and added, 

“If we don’t have it, you probably don’t need it.” 

I smiled and looked around the ceiling.

My eyes widened.

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“Do you want to see out back?” he offered.

“Does it get better or worse,” I asked.

“Come!” He said and led me past the furnace 

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and through a door above which two signs were posted.

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Too bad about the smoking.

Breakfast included!

The rule “No Eating In The Car” just went out the window!

A Road Trip

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A Boat Show

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An Inn

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A blue-sky morning and a brisk breeze — on the ferry.  Vancouver Island.