first snow and a trip to Ikea

Still doing the last bit of November catch-up, including this:

our first snow!

It's unusual for us to see snow here in November, our 5th in Nova Scotia.

Usually we're lucky to get it by New Year's.

Our little Harelson Apple tree is still wrapped in netting to keep the birds off the apples.

But the apples were all wormy this year, and discouraged, we left the netting up and the apples as groundfall.

The trees and shrubbery still provide great pleasure, with the empty field beyond.

This sugary beauty all disappeared within a day however. Ho hum.

The following weekend was our 2nd since Connie had been gone and we were itching for some fun so we hit the road south to Dartmouth, passing the white cliffs of Gypsum Mines just beyond Windsor.

This rough terrain with its sheer bluffs are just further down the highway as we climb Mt. Uniak.

A rainy day, I still felt it was worth keeping some blurry highway shots of the kind of mixed landscape we see in the space of an hour, from farmland to these great boulders and rock cuts.

I love the lighting on this little forest pond.

Here is another larger pond,

and one, larger still.

In the grand foyer of our destination, Ikea,

this crisp bedroom was done up so that one could walk all around it.

In fact, all Ikea's displays are done in the round and people are encouraged to sit on the merchandise.

Wally was quite taken with this display, wondering if we should put some more of the trendy brass into our décor. We already have a vintage lamp and some sculptures so that's probably enough for our little house.

That's the thing: our house is pretty full as it is though I love the eye candy of interior design.

There always seems to be an accessory here that we find to update the energy of our old house with its secondhand furniture.

I got that linen tea towel on a previous trip, but I do love the modern country style incorporating the black and white ticking for the duvet cover, and metal furniture.

Oh, I didn't do Wally justice taking our picture in this bathroom mirror. I probably saw him from a different angle, but it does show the teeny camera I've used all these years for the blog.

We spent a good little while inspecting this sophisticated "Besta" modular wall unit that we both liked for the living room as we, old fogies that we are, still have a LOT of videos that we'd like to store out of sight but handy. As it is, we keep them in the blanket box coffee table and baskets, scattered throughout the room, inconvenient to say the least. Since we didn't have a tape measure handy I asked Wally to "reach for the top" to help us estimate how this arrangement of modules would fit in our low-ceilinged room.

We couldn't stay late on a Sunday, not only because Wally had to work the next day, but also because the doors shut at 6pm. That was probably a good thing; otherwise we might have moved in.

Well, I think that finally winds up November.

Thank you for coming along while I play catch-up to this present moment in time...

as if that's possible on the internet!

Still, it's good to have you along to share these experiences.

thank you!

the road to Peggy's Cove

Here we are in December of all places! So much for my trying to catch up with that first week of November, travels with Connie, within that same month. Our little trips were worth documenting (in my mind) so, with that, here are some vignettes of our

trip to Peggy's Cove on the Saturday evening of November 5

It's a straight trip down our road to the south shore. I had forgotten what a magical road the Lighthouse Route is as we usually take it home at the end of an outing, too dark to really see anything.  After passing some wonderful landmarks I finally thought to pull out my camera, but the light and proximity of things from a moving car wasn't working for me.

After an hour or so, Wally found the somewhat secret entrance to a little public beach where we got out to stretch our legs.

The ocean tide gently washed the shore

The curl of the waves was benign.

I took off immediately from the car to gather myself from the car ride, unaware that Connie also had agenda: to wet her feet in the Atlantic Ocean. Let me tell you, it wasn't warm.

But beautiful, yes it was.

Once we were on the road again, we travelled the inlets along the coast

through towns with beautiful names, evocative of another time

two views of ...

this same stretch of road 

and along somewhat lonely patches,

 coming upon little fishing villages

and the occasional well-to-do patches of bigger homes, often just for vacation.

There were many picturesque opportunities...

but we were on the move

a pretty country home

a quaint country church

a rare old home in a grand style

another country church with a pyramid roofed house like ours in the foreground,

adorned with pumpkins

Now the landscape is starting to show that rocky barrenness tells us we are getting close to our destination

A quintessential old time fishing home

another fishing village

and someone who thought this inlet was photo-worthy

Now we are almost in Peggy's Cove, just past the memorial of the infamous Swissair crash of 1998.

The rocks themselves, left by ancient glaciers, almost seem like memorials themselves.

So much ancient history.

And here we are, our initial sighting of the famous lighthouse

that has attracted millions of visitors over the years.

I will never forget my first visit with Wally, when the waves crashed magnificently on the long spread of rock to the sea.

The rock really sets the scene here, long undulating stretches of it.

The vegetation is hardy, the trees are very old, bonsai in stature.

The red roof of the town church looms closer,

We round another bend...

and I must save the rest for next time.

until then... holding this moment, this unique and only moment...

peace dear ones

 

jaunt to the airport

The ocean cold is gripping us here and even temperatures above draw the bitter damp right through you. But that's November.

On the first of the month we set off to the airport to gather up our honoured guest and old friend, Connie, who came for a week's visit. It was a gorgeous afternoon, not the rainy forecast we'd been expecting.  But that's becoming normal, these false alarms.

It wasn't always easy to get a good exposure in the contrasting sunlight but I thought this fine old house was worth sharing with its 2 chimneys and 3 dormer windows, the middle one larger than those flanking it. Three is the magic number, used again in the covered porch with its 3 groups of 3 windows.

a modern cattle farm

closer to the cattle

more cows in the afternoon sun

another large operation near Hantsport

along the Gaspereau River as it begins to widen into a huge "S" before it spills into the Minas Basin

Silos with supportive equipment

just beyond the Freddie Wilson overpass, colour still glowing

looking Southeast over the mountains

Falmouth, built on lowland, with the mountains rising in the distance

Birch and White Pine

outcrop of gypsum

another gypsum outcrop

gypsum cliffs

FYI: Gypsum is a soft mineral composed of calcium sulfate dihydrate, that is 2nd only to coal as a mineral resource in Nova Scotia, whose mines are the largest in Canada. Quarrying began in Nova Scotia in the 1770s, when farmers in Hants County first found gypsum deposits on their land and started exporting to the United States. By 1818 the industry employed over 150 men locally and 50,000 tons were being shipped annually. These early quarries were chiefly around Windsor, Falmouth and Hantsport. Subsequently, even larger mines were opened around the province.  In 1953 the huge open-pit quarrying began at East Milford, Halifax County began and is the world's most productive mine of Gypsum to date. Originally used as a fertilizer and paint filler, Gypsum, is the main constituent in many forms of plaster, blackboard chalk and wallboard,  the latter commonly known as Gyproc.

As we begin to climb the rising Mt. Uniak, spruce on the rocks

Despite a late getaway, we got to the airport in time to meet Connie.

First stop: Pier 21, landing place, gateway to Canada for one million immigrants between 1928 and 1971, of whom Connie was one at the age of 4 years old. 

More to come of our jaunts over the week that she was here, the only time Wally and I seem to get out of our fix-the-house rut.

Til then....

peace dear ones