The height of summer in Nova Scotia is a wonderful thing.  Our Ken is happily gardening, the dogs enjoy long days of play in their large exercise yards and life unfolds easily.  Farmers markets are full to the brim - it is hodge podge season, after all.  Surprisingly, the peas are in good supply with full pods, not always the case during these dry summers.  Strawberries continue to be plentiful and tasty.  Jam production is in full flight.  Strawberry is behind us, gooseberry is underway with the Regalridge bushes offering up more than is required of them.  Peaches are appearing, yellow plums will be on the tree within the week and an eye is being kept out for sour cherries - the least plentiful of our crops, it seems, and the most difficult to access.  Ken's birds remain at the feeders, enjoying their seed rather than foraging for themselves.  Millenials, we reckon, and watch closely as our feathered friends eye the basement doors.  This is yet another 'year of the raccoon'.  Within the past few days, three have been relocated.  It seems the little Toyota will make a few more trips up the road.  There is another in the live trap this morning.  But she is not the real news.  As Viola sounded the alarm at a particularly early hour, Lee glanced out an upstairs window just at daybreak.  The view necessitated rousing Our Ken.  There on the deck, rattling the feeders as if it were Christmas morning, were three young raccoons.  The interaction among them was a circus - one is easy going, one a follower and one tough as nails, telling the others what to do and when to do it.  Don't mess with her!  But this was not the full count.  Lee had done dogs and settled with coffee when Our Ken appeared with the final roster.  There are five little ones, it seems.  Trapper Ken  has a full week ahead. 


The dogs are well.  Billy continues to be the apple of Our Ken's eye with pride of place in the house.  He is joined by Marguerite, the rowdiest of the Airedales and up to no good at any given moment.  Young Zoe completes the house component, a pal for Heloise the Welsh.  Viola has been added to the complement, taking on the role of alarm, sentinel and all round tattle tongue.  There has to be one.  Finally, the little Cirneco keeps Lee company, a dog to warm all hearts and return Lee to her love for the hounds in general.  Clint, Gabe and James man the kennel, all living in harmony, managing their big yard and welcoming the odd visitor.  All love the summer activity on the property.  Marguerite has chosen the foreman role, keeping a critical eye on everyone and everything, offering advice and assistance as needed.  Gabe fancies himself a gardener - resulting in banishment from the big front area, perhaps for all time.  Our Ken and Gabe appear to have differing views of the positioning of dahlias. 


Boarding dogs are equally enamoured of the great weather and exercise options.  The Schenk crew is in residence.  Zeus, the mature Norwich, delights in a spin up and down the fenceline, exercising the adjoining Airedales and his lungs, equally.  Shillelagh urges him on to greater feats, taking over when he has had enough as she plots revenge on her human - for what misdeed, none of us is certain.  Malachi - well, what can you say for a juvenile Bull Terrier.  He is learning the ropes and acquiescing to the rules - albeit grudgingly and muttering about not having to do this stuff at home.  There will, perhaps, be a lecture or five by Our Ken for poor Margaret. Shillelagh, btw, has never seen him before in her life.  Ursey has just departed.  Our German Shepherd of choice, she has graced us with her presence for short term stays for many years and manages to have her people out of her sight with better understanding than many of this particular breed.  Charli is here for a week end stay, having a spa treatment and playing Chantelle as only an Airedale can.  Virginia and Arwyn came for a few days and love to party, even at mid-age. They are in number four yard, keeping an eye on the east side of the property and doing a great job.  Both look fabulous.  Jersey the Labrador is here and will not be communicating with Malachi - they are of like mind and don't bear colluding. 


Meals in July consist of a lot of grilling or use of the outdoor oven.  Occasionally there is fish prepared in the kitchen.  Pizza in the wood oven is overdue.  Last evening it was fish at the local Lighthouse take out, carried to Chantelle's and enjoyed in company of her Welsh.  Homemade strawberry ice cream at Regalridge followed.  And life goes on

Miracle on 34th - it really is Christmas season

Finishing touches are being applied to the key indicators of the season.  Lee's shopping is complete.  Wrapping is well in control and time with great friends is scheduled - more or less.  A half day in the city was all it took to put paid to the wallet extractions.  Alert for those not in the know - Lee Valley has a great system.  Phone in your order and waltz by the poor schmucks waiting in line.  Go to the left of the store and collect your prizes from the Express counter.  Done in record time.  Costco has new items arriving daily - this little gem is able to be noted since we also are arriving there daily.  Their lack of York Peppermint Patties cost $367.84.  Milk was slightly more expensive on Monday, clocking in in excess of $500.  And life goes on.  Christmas shows have now taken over the television and Our Ken has his iPad back for the eternal news and weather scans.  The birds are active and hungry.  Enough said on that subject. 


The dogs are enjoying the warm days, even with water falling from the sky.  Grass is still green on most areas of the property.  There was a cover of snow overnight, early in the week, replaced by mist and showers the following day.  Still, it was enough to say the puppies had their first real taste of winter.  Marguerite and Trebia have had a Martha Stewart moment with critical decision making employed in revising the tree landscape.  Marguerite removed and tore a miscreant (think ornament) into 7,433 small pieces thus ensuring it would not reappear on an otherwise acceptable Christmas tree.  Trebia discovered an interloper that undoubtedly would become a live and troublesome moose so dispatched it, thus saving us the trouble of finding a gun and making an even greater mess.  Such thoughtful dogs.  The lower branches have been denuded accordingly.  Balance is over-rated as far as Christmas trees go. 


Meals have been seasonally appropriate.  Today was an annual get together at Swiss Chalet in New Minas with our great friends from Digby and Chantelle of course.  The table configuration ended with the men at the end of the table (in retrospect not our finest decision).  The beginning of trouble was the request for drink preferences.  The lady who seated us was determined to begin at an end (that would be either of the two men) and go around the table.  That didn't happen in spite of her insistence.  Her world was shaken as she finally determined that she would either start in the middle or be with us for a very long and unproductive period.  Coming back for meal orders she had completely caved.  Now this is not a tremendously varied menu and there is a 'festive special' that is ordered by 89% of December patrons.  Still Our Ken and Bob perused the menu like they would a Pulitzer prize winning novel finally landing on the  - you guessed it - festive special along with everyone else at the table.  They did break out in a big way by ordering dark meat and Our Ken went so far as to request a multi-grain roll - thus ensuring issues that had the entire restaurant in awe.  A young woman was dispatched with the first two plates - of course, those of the two troublemakers.  She had a 50/50 chance and the only difference was the dreaded roll.  And there it was - multi-grain in front of Bob.  Yes, there was an easy solution.  No, that was not taken.  As Ken blissfully ate Bob's fries, the waitress tried hard to convince Bob that he and Ken could exchange the rolls and all would be well.  Bob had no idea what she was trying to have happen since he was totally focused on Ken eating his fries and suspecting that when it was all said and done, he was going to end up with a fry-less festive special.  Conversely, Our Ken had a meal that approximated what he had ordered and he wasn't giving it up - in fact, he was quite oblivious to the controversy swirling around him, lost in the joy of Bob's fries and didn't even notice the lack of grain in his roll - multi or not - as he buttered and ate it, being regarded with amazement by poor Bob who was now dutifully working his way through Our Ken's meal - less the multi-grain roll.  During this ordeal, the poor young woman got to the point of saying, she would move the rolls since it was evident that Ken was having none of this sharing business and Bob appeared loathe to extract his bun from Ken's hovering hand.  And then the woman who served us appeared to note in no uncertain terms that servers do not touch the food on a patron's plate.  Things weren't looking good.  Chantelle was sliding toward the floor, hiding her face, Luella and Lee were in hysterics, Bob was concerned and now pretty certain he was going to eat Ken's meal and Our Ken was eating fries - happy as could be.  There was a short discussion with the woman, reminding her that there was one table a day that would be her dinner conversation at home and we might just be it.  She assured us that we indeed had earned that honour much earlier and this was the icing on the cake.  And on it goes. . .

Christmas 2015

All is well in the Regalridge world. Christmas is in the offing and seems to be slightly more moderate in its approach than in other years.  The trimming has happened, although Our Ken has determined that with the critical outside lighting program achieved, other trees, shrubs and bushes have potential.  As long as stores have outdoor lights left unsold, the electric bill is likely to rise proportionately.  The indoor activity is on track and less pressured than usual, so quite obviously necessary things have been totally forgotten and will raise their shiny heads at the last minute, requiring frantic manoeuvers to deal with the oversights.  The weather has been particularly clement, allowing comfortable coming and going and safe trips for the travellers among us.  The Regalridgemobile has taken numerous treks to and from the city, consistently returning heavier than it leaves.  Consistency is good!  Shopping is winding down, wrapping almost complete and baking barely begun.  The tree has migrated to the den and a small version stationed in the living room.  Tree trimming is emotional.  Each ornament, here, has meaning.  some were made by Lee's Mom.  Some were purchased on trips throughout the world.  Many are gifts from wonderful friends while others are annual additions, a tradition that started long before there was a Regalridge.  Each holds a memory and each memory is a good one in its own way.  Rushing the process would be silly.  It is a big part of Christmas here and requires stories be retold and placements carefully considered.  Beyond the big tree, there is a new festival of trees on the hearth and sparkly trees throughout the great room.   Somehow, the trimming has changed completely.  So far, Our Ken has not fussed.  The birds are plentiful;  There are Jays, the two pair of woodpeckers, chickadees, starlings, the total Nova Scotia population of mourning doves, the resident crows, grosbeaks, cowbirds and Phil the pheasant and his harem.  Adding the squirrels and the little chipmunks, the seed supplier is not going to have to worry about Christmas cash.  The addition to the feeding station this year is a peanut feeder.  In the shape of a wreath, it was acquired in Ontario and is a real hit with the NS Jays.  They party as soon as they see it move from its branch to the table to be filled and may soon remove Our Ken's hat in the competition to be first at the bar.  Phil is spectacular this year, in fine feather and good weight, his greens, reds and bronze feathers gleaming as he trots about the front yard to his station under the chestnut. 


The Airedales are enjoying the season, particularly  delighting in the increased level of activity that brings friends and relatives to the doors.  Even Marguerite and Trebia have put on their company manners and are welcoming.  The little hound is Lee's shadow and has finally convinced the humans that a significant car trip should be in her repertoire.  That worked well provided Lee's lap was present and holding a Cirneco.  It was less successful when the same Cirneco was placed in her crate with her blanket and toys.  Hounds can and do howl when annoyed, it seems.  Her future as a world traveller is uncertain. 


Meals are changed up in December.  Fish is easy to come by - everything from lobster ('tis the season), to scallops and oysters.  There is lots of haddock locally and salmon is abundant (but farmed).  Our favourite fish truck is rocking and recognizes the Regalridgemobile from a distance.  The week has included salmon steaks, roast sirloin of pork with an herb and apple glaze, beef tenderloin, chicken and spaghetti.  Tonight scallops will round out the range.  Baking has begun but not before Our Ken went hunting and gathering.  It was when he brought home a box of 'Little Debbie's seasonal treats' that a stop had to be put to his fun.  The wounded mutter was that "they can go on the tree as decorations".  Think about that for a second - chocolate cakes hung by something? on the tree described above in a room filled with Airedales and the hound.  Sure.  Let's break them right out.  The decision is whether or not to remove the cellophane . . .