COUNTYKATE'S THOUGHTS ON JULY

 Hello again from CountyKate in Ontario, Canada! I thought I would elaborate on my last blog,  it seemed well received, the description of my drive around some of the lovely waterside areas of Prince Edward County.

First though, an idea of the days of winter, a memory now, shed like a cloak  Hold on, you might be saying, it is July now after all!

Our seasons here, the jokers say, are winter and July, and its almost true.  Our summer season begins in the last days of June;  many of our High School and University students, anxious to earn credits and cash for future schooling, become the backbone of all our tourist attractions - Marineland at Niagara;  Wild Water  Kingdom;  African Lion Safari;  Black Creek Pioneer Village, and many others.

So let us dwell on summer;  we are almost catapulted into it, after a cool, damp June, but the farmers have benefited - they have already made the first crop of hay - and have ploughed, seeded and fertilized.

  

Driving around, you can see the results already - undulating fields of waving cereal crops - barley, wheat and corn.  There's a green, leafy crop visible now, Maize, for animal feed.  Knee high now, it will be high as an 'elephants eye' by  September, ready in time for pumpkin picking, and children’s mazes!

I remember lovely Cary Grant, getting lost in the cornstalks, in North by Northwest.   Maybe you remember Mel Gibson’s kids  being lured in by Aliens or Superman flying through the corn stalks.

We still reminisce about our son in law, running into the cornfield after a flyaway kite, followed by his faithful Boxer dog, and in moments we had lost sight of him, and he had lost his sense of direction!  It took an hour, with kids climbing trees, fences and rooftops to try to see him, then he emerged, grinning, dusty and confused, some waysaway down the field!

Already, the farmers have put out their produce stands; the first offerings are strawberries, dark, shiny and sweet, along with peas in their pods and new potatoes.  We taught our then five year old granddaughter to pop open the pods, suspicious at first, but then delighted by what she found inside!

I remember my mum, at this time of year, having dirt ingrained fingertips, from scraping new potatoes!

Musn't forget the carrots and tiny beets!

And then there is the other aspect of July and August - school has finished for two months - and 'everyone' goes Up North, to their cottages, trailers or boat.  Who are these affluent people, loosely referred to as 'everyone’? On the whole, they are people who live in our cities, and who either do own, or else rent, a cottage or trailer, or go camping (watch out for bears!) near one of our beautiful Ontario Lakes.  Maybe they want to 'go back to their roots' for a while. We have none of these toys ourselves, but we enjoy them all the same when we visit our daughter, in her holiday trailer.

 A typical holiday cottage

Our own - well, our kids' - holiday trailer

Holiday fun on the lake

So July is here. Steaming hot days; why only a week or so ago it was still chilly at night and I worried for my. perennials pushing up through the hard soil.  The first to break through are the pale green spears of Solomon’s Seal, within a couple of weeks they bare elegant, arching branches, with creamy bells hanging under each leaf. They are ready for the bees to stuff their heads into, searching for nectar. Next to follow is Catnip, the blue spikes attracting bees, as well, and oh joy! the Hummingbirds.

We have kept the squirrels and chipmunks supplied all winter, with peanuts and sunflower seeds. Kept company by the raucous Blue Jays, our winter is entertaining! Opportunists, all of them.

Feeding the birds in winter

Squirrel trapped in allegedly squirrel-proof bird-feeder!

Chipmunk in bird-feeder!

Then as if you are reciting the color wheel, the other species arrive, singly, pairs or in arrogant gangs, like the American Goldfinches, though they sing a sweet song all day.  The Ruby throated Hummingbird; golden Baltimore Orioles, red breasted American Robins;  Blackcapped Chickadees;  Dark Eyed Juncos;  four species of woodpeckers - the fifth variety is too big for the feeders, I hear him knocking on trees and our fence posts!

Iridescent Grackles, Redwing tipped Blackbirds; and of course, more Blue Jays, this time masquerading as the Boys of Summer!  There are Red Tailed Hawks; Buff colored Mourning Doves and Sparrows, all fed.

Blue-Jay as you may have guessed!

Then suddenly the garden is quiet, just mummy sparrow feeding babies as big as herself, and clever, crafty black crows, who have taught themselves to lift the cover on the swimming pool, and sip the water underneath!  Maybe Mr Toad is there again, staring back!

Mr Toad in our swimming pool

Silence has descended too, over the fields and garden, no more need to mow twice a week. Farmers are awaiting a drenching rain, to swell and ripen crops

Holiday rain

Now I need to find the jars for jam and pickle making, they must be sterilized and ready.  We need to find the camping chairs, for extended stays at estate auctions, to have roadside picnics beside a river, or for when we visit the kids at their trailer.

Just a lick of paint and the chairs will be fine -

.

So, in an eight foot wide, thirty foot long trailer, 8 people, children and dog can muster, to eat and sleep. There is a shower room, but you have to sit on the loo to use the shower.  There is a kitchen area, but only one person can use it;  we eat outside a lot. Sleeping, a real juggling act. Hmmmm... I wonder whose turn it is to sleep on kitchen table that becomes a bed, this year.

And what do you do at the trailer or cottage? I start to piece together quilt tops, ready for quilting in winter.  I read, do crafts, paint. Or else I sits and I dreams.

Till the next time!

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A NEW WORLD BLOG FROM GRANDMA'S SISTER

 I have a guest blogger this time - my sister Katy who lives in Canada. Could there be two more different places in which to live? Canada and Corfu Greece. Considering we started off as 'Essex girls', never dreaming our lives would eventually take us so far apart.

With great pleasure, I give you a new blog from CountyKate. who writes as follows:

COUNTYKATE AT LARGE IN CANADA

Most people have an image of Canada as a vast country, on a grand scale - The Rockies, Niagara Falls, The Great Lakes, endless plains, primeval forest, but also cosmopolitan cities, teeming with life.

Many parts of Canada remain under-populated, wild and even unexplored. But, you must consider that Up North, we have glaciers and polar bears, whilst here in Ontario where I live, I feed hummingbirds in my garden in the summer months.

And then there are the truly rural, largely passed-by, intimate landscapes of places such as where I live.

Prince Edward County. It is part of Ontario, between Toronto and  Kingston, and is an 'isthmus', jutting out into Lake Ontario.  We are a special place; special because it is small, originally populated by Native  Indians, such as  Iroquois and  Algonquin tribes. They mainly resided peacefully along the shoreline, hunting and trapping for bartering purposes, fishing and living quietly, oblivious to the coming  invasion of  European settlers.

Algonquin Indians

Iroquois Indian

The Europeans began arriving in the mid 1700's; French, German and  Dutch, along with many Scottish, fleeing the Jacobite Rebellions. Their  descendants are still here, and small crossroads, once little hubs of activity, still bear their names, though all sign of them has gone, names such as Doxsee, Onderdonk, Bongard, Ostrander.

 The 'Katmobile' - 1987 Chrysler Fifth Avenue

I took a rural drive today, in my classic car, one of my favourite activities. I left the small main town of Picton, bustling for now with summer tourists, here for the antiques, art and wineries.  I took the winding road east, still on the County, past houses built by the wealthy Americans, who came here in the 19th century.  Some are mansions, like Claramount, a bit of a 'Tara', in colonial revival style with white pillars and yellow woodwork. It was built as a summer'cottage' for a businessman and his two daughters, and named after his wife Clara, but now is a hotel and spa.

Onward past  Victorian houses, with their wraparound porches and formal gardens, many going to the water’s edge of Picton Inlet and harbour. Once the harbour was full of three-masted sailing ships, carrying grain, canned goods, and passengers.

Typical Victorian house

Picton inlet

Picton harbour

As I carried on, the inlet on my left, I drove through the hamlet  of Lake on the Mountain.  This lake is supposedly bottomless, mysterious and haunted!  Haunted, so folklore says, by an Indian princess, who waited in vain for her lover to arrive, and drowned herself in its dark depths.  Or, it could be a meteor crater! 

Lake on the Mountain

Shores of the lake

But the road goes on, past farms and barns, low vegetation as we are on shale beds here, not conducive to deep roots.

On my left I had wonderful views of Adolphus Reach, the continuation of Picton Inlet, rippling its way towards the open water of Lake Ontario.

Eventually I came to Prinyers Cove, an inlet of water dotted now with yachts, houseboats, dinghies, and with a small marina.  Prinyers Cove was originally called  Grog Cove, probably a safe port of call for the County's Rum Runners, but later, when a small group of Scottish refugees arrived, in about 1780, it became McConnell’s Cove. They settled, became prosperous farmers, but the lineage died out, and the cove acquired the name of  Prinyer’s.

And so I turned around, to start off home, the end of a perfect day, for dreamers and photographers.

The Not-So Humble Dandelion

I couldn't resist this attractive gif when I found it on a blog to which I subscribe, called "Spydersden.

Funnily enough, or call it serendipity, I received on the same day, an email from my sister complaining about the number of dandelions swamping her Canadian garden.
This winter, there hasn't been as much snow as usual in Ontario - her garden usually looks like this -

and there is now in fact a bit of a drought with no snow-melt to swell all those rivers and lakes.
Ontario is a land of much water, a fact reflected in its beautiful  Native Indian tribal place-names.I make no apologies for referring here to a poem I knew by heart as a kid, and loved to recite with its repetitive but infinitely pleasing cadences - The Story of Hiawatha by Longfellow. Here is a brief extract that plays upon the beauty of those old names:

By the shores of Gitche Gumee, 
By the shining Big-Sea-Water, 
Stood the wigwam of Nokomis, 
Daughter of the Moon, Nokomis. 
Dark behind it rose the forest, 
Rose the black and gloomy pine-trees, 
Rose the firs with cones upon them; 
Bright before it beat the water, 
Beat the clear and sunny water, 
Beat the shining Big-Sea-Water.

But come what may, snow or no snow, rain or no rain, in April the hardy annual dandelions re-appear, in Canada, Cornwall, Corfu and China, and pretty much all over the world..

Dandelion - its English name comes from the French dent-de-lion, a reference to the jagged edges of its leaves.

 As kids, we were always told not to pick it or we would wet the bed, and indeed its common French name is pissenlit which  means just that.
To the majority of British gardeners it is a tiresome weed to be fought with nuclear weapons if necessary.
But to Greeks, it is a valuable food, there for the gathering in all the places where nutritious herbs and other plants grow wild, on sunny hillsides, in meadows, on any uncultivated land. Its bright golden head appears amidst the swathes of spring flowers, crowning a cluster of leaves and stems that are bursting with valuable nutrients.Spring is the best time to gather dandelions for eating, before the flowers appear, and indeed any other wild greens, with a re-appearance in autumn.

When I went to live at Kanoni, just outside the town of Corfu, after years of living in the town itself, I was stunned by the rich variety of plants, cultivated and wild, that burst into life in March and April each year.
To me, it was just a display of Nature's exuberant beauty, but to my mother-in-law, when she came to stay with us on a visit from Piraeus,  it was a glimpse of Paradise.

Like all Greek women, she had been brought up to value the plants and herbs that grew so abundantly in the countryside. Living in a city, she had little opportunity to get out and gather these freely available foodstuffs.
In Corfu, she was almost delirious with pleasure, and together we would set out with sharp knives and bags to gather  horta.

She taught me to identify many of the plants that could be eaten, as salads, steamed, sauteed or boiled, or as the filling in pies. Our expeditions were rewarding in every sense, and they brought us into a closer, warmer relationship. We found a way into an abandoned estate, where the old mansion had long ago disintegrated and been reclaimed by Nature, but where orchards and kitchen gardens had been left to their own devices and still flourished in a decadent, overblown way.

Two of the old Kanoni estates

We went home with bags of every kind of citrus fruit, with a great deal of horta, and with mushrooms and armsful of narcissus. We went, too, to the flat fields that surround the lagoon, heedless of the occasional aircraft landing not so very far away, our feet crunching on the millions of tiny snail shells that made up the springy surface below the grass and other plants. On the banks of the tributary streams that fed into the lagoon we found wild asparagus, wild celery and horseradish.
Sometimes we found ourselves searching the ruins of ancient Roman and Greek buildings, still not yet excavated - it is said that wherever you dig on the Kanoni peninsula you will strike an ancient building.

Ag. Theodora

Later, when my mother-in-law was too weakened by diabetes to come with me, I used to go out alone to pick horta for her. I was always joined then by Athina, a local woman living in what could only be called poverty, in a ramshackle shed, with her cows and sheep and goats, taking them out to feast on the lush Kanoni pasture every day. Athina was amused with my amateur horta-picking knowledge and did a great deal to encourage and teach me. She was an unmarried woman, the victim of the often cruel old dowry system - no dowry, nu husband. Despite her grimy hands and battered wellies, her grey hair and drab clothing, she was beautiful and had a classic grace about her that was worthy of the goddess for whom she was named.

My mother-in-law not only ate the boiled horta, she also drank the liquid it was boiled in, believing it to be good for her. Judging  by the quote from the Spydersden blog with which I am ending my own blog, she was right.

The Ancient Greeks knew the value of wild plants of all kinds, and used dandelion, which they predictably called leontodon, as a medicine for arthritis and rheumatism

When I was first married to my Greek husband, we spent a couple of years in England. I lived in a leafy suburb in Essex. as estate agents like to call such desirable habitats, and it was just a short walk from my home to the country lanes that were still not built upon. Dandelions grew there, leaves about 2 metres long it seemed to me, along with wild parsley, garlic and dill. I had learned that even the thistles had a tender heart that added its own flavour to the tangy mix of greens. I would walk home, the pushchair basket stuffed with loot, to be greeted by the neighbours with jocularity. 'You got rabbits, then,'
'No.' I would reply.' a Greek husband.'
That shut them up.

For those unwilling or unable to go horta-picking themselves, cultivated dandelions, if that is not an oxymoron, can be bought in greengrocers' shops and markets. There are several varieties, but they are all, as far as I know, called radikia.

 

They come neatly trimmed and bundled and require very little preparation. An easy way to obtain your dandelions, if you like, but for me nothing can compare with the pleasure of searching for the edible plants,bending down to inhale the satisfying fragrances of soil, moss and herbs, separating the tender young leaves from the tougher old ones. You learn not to mind worms and beetles and even spiders, and you begin to truly appreciate the variety and complexity of Nature.

Just look at the dandelion clock for example, a cluster of tiny seeds on delicate, fragile parachutes, just waiting for a breeze, a passing animal or human, to assist in the distribution of those seeds far and wide. Simple? I think not. It gives rise to some very deep questions about how such efficiency evolved.

I recommend picking edible plants as a highly therapeutic exercise, one that challenges the brain and the back!.

Here is an extract from the Spydersden blog. that got me thinking (and reminiscing) about dandelion foraging.

" The ubiquitous dandelion, that perennial bane of lawn fetishists all across the land, is one of the healthiest food items on the planet. Instead of spraying it with herbicides every spring and thus saturating our lawns in poison that finds its way into water supplies, other plants, and the food chain, we should be feeding the dandelion to ensure its continued growth and the resultant nutritional values it provides.

According to the USDA Bulletin #8, "Composition of Foods" (Haytowitz and Matthews 1984), dandelions rank in the top 4 green vegetables in overall nutritional value. Minnich, in "Gardening for Better Nutrition" ranks them, out of all vegetables, including grains, seeds and greens, as tied for 9th best. Dandelions are nature's richest green vegetable source of beta-carotene, from which Vitamin A is created, and the third richest source of Vitamin A of all foods, after cod-liver oil and beef liver. They also are particularly rich in fiber, potassium, iron, calcium, magnesium, phosphorus, cobalt, zinc, boron, molybdenum, vitamin D, and the B vitamins, thiamine and riboflavin, and are a good source of protein.

Internally, dandelion is especially important in promoting the formation of bile and removing excess water from the body. The root decidedly affects all forms of secretions and excretion from the body. By removing poisons from the system, it acts as a tonic and stimulant as well. It cleanses the blood and liver. It is especially good as a blood cleanser for diabetes, dropsy, and eczema. Because of its high mineral content, it is used to treat anemia. It reduces serum cholesterol and uric acid levels. Lukewarm dandelion tea is useful for dyspepsia with constipation, fever, and insomnia.

Dandelion improves the functioning of the pancreas, kidneys, spleen, and stomach. An infusion of the fresh root is good for gallstones, jaundice, and other liver problems. For stomachaches, drink 1/2 cup of the infusion every 30 minutes until relief is obtained. The root is a specific for hypoglycemia. Take a cup of the tea 2-3 times a day and maintain a balanced diet. With a good diet, the root tea can eliminate adult-onset diabetes. The root tea will also help lower blood pressure, thus aiding the action of the heart.

Dandelion relieves menopausal symptoms and is useful for boils (taken internally), breast tumors, cirrhosis of the liver, constipation, liver and spleen enlargement, fluid retention, hepatitis, bronchitis, low blood sugar, and rheumatism. It may help prevent age spots on the skin. Serious cases of hepatitis have been cured with the use of dandelion root tea within a week or two when the diet is controlled properly and limited to easily digested foods.

The fresh juice is particularly effective, but a tea can also be prepared. Dandelion leaves are healthful as salad greens, especially in springtime. The roasted root is a nutrient rich coffee substitute."

And here is an interesting link.

 http://www.wildmanstevebrill.com/Plants.Folder/Dandelion.html

It gives an extract from the book

The link takes you to the excellent page on dandelions, but before you rush off and buy the only copy left at amazon.co.uk - read the customer reviews!

Apart from my own photos, I must thank my sister Katy, Frosso and Bob of Spydersden, for the use of theirs.

!