Category Archives: thoughts and observations


After a resting Winter, Spring is always a delight to welcome with open arms. I like to search for signs of Spring wherever I do my random walking routes. I hit a looloopalooza day yesterday, when I spotted a bountiful treasure of blooms, popping out of the ground and bursting forth from ornamental bushes as well as boulevard trees.

Daffodils, crocuses and snowdrops all vying for the attention of people passing by. . . .

This beautiful Dogwood tree, in early bloom, is BC’s provincial flower. It is definitely an early Spring surprise.

Whenever I see the simple sight of a row of yellow daffodils, lifting their heads to the warm sun, framed against a white picket fence, it makes me want to whip out my paint brushes and sketch book. . . .but I whipped open my senior cellphone’s camera instead. . . .

Magnolia trees are in various locations. My favorite has always been the deep pink, large as dinner-plate blooms. . . .

I love the sight of Spring crocuses bursting onto bare ground and a sparse lawn; it’s almost as if it couldn’t wait and just wanted to be out of the dark and into the sun.

And a rambling walker has to admire the trees too—-trees prove Spring is here. Pink camellias are in bloom. . . . .

Ornamental cherry blossoms makes the heart sing. . . . . .

Crocuses grow in the most unexpected places—rocky and bare. . . . .

Blossoming trees plus a blooming camellia bush are all positive signs that Spring has arrived in all her finery. YAY, SPRING. . . . .and that means, Summer is not far behind!


If it stops you in your tracks, then that’s the window worth a good look.”

Sometimes I like to do a slow window stopping walking route. The variety of shops and businesses along this route often have eye-catching windows. It makes it worth-while to pause and capture whatever caught my attention with my handy-dandy senior cellphone’s camera.

These distinctive little shoemakers, in the front window of the shoe repair shop, always makes me stop. They have me smiling to see these busy shoemakers working so industriously.

A few doors down is the buy-n-sell with its ever changing hodge-podge of “treasures” –or, just a fun stop to check out all the “what-nots” previous owners considered junk. Did you spot the old Singer sewing machine?

One of my favorite stops is Gardenworks as it has such great displays in their large display windows as well as inside their fascinating store. Their current eye-stopping window display shows off these beautiful orchids.

Perhaps it was a salute to the West Coast and being on an Island, but this Gardenwork’s nautical theme appealed to my senses and captured my camera’s attention.

Sharing the other half of the Avenue Butcher’s building is a talented chef/owner. He specializes in curing and preparing meats utilizing the “whole beast,” or animal in a variety of tasty methods. The name of his business is on an amazing mural on the side of his building.

Another window makes me pause as I ponder what type of service this store provides.,

Apparently, it is the Herbal Path, a store specializing in acupuncture and Chinese herbal medicine.

Further along the street is an antique store with its front windows often capturing my attention. Sometimes the displays are large, ornately carved pieces of furniture; other times, the window display is quite simple.

Depending upon my mood, my walks are always an adventure. It could be a challenging walk with steep hills or a scenic walk along the water. Sometimes, it could be a walk through the residential side streets and laneways. But now and then, there is the leisurely fun stroll to simply window stop. . . . .


“Christmas isn’t a season, it’s a feeling.” Edna Ferber

“Maybe Christmas doesn’t come from a store, maybe Christmas perhaps means a little bit more.” Dr. Seuss

Christmas is a gathering of family and friends; the comfort and warmth of home and hearth; the sharing of the joy and pleasures of the Holiday Season. It is the sound of excited children and laughter; the special smells of pine trees, roasting turkeys, the spicy scent of mince tarts and gingerbread; colorful holly and chrysanthemums including boisterous renditions of familiar carols are all part of the Holiday scene.

It is a kaleidoscope of Christmases past and new Christmas memories of ones yet to come.

Thank you for following my blog. I have been fortunate meeting new friends who have discovered me as well as the encouragement of old friends whose humorous and observant comments are always welcome.

One of my Christmas cards said exactly what I feel: “May this Christmas warm your heart with Hope and light your World with Love.”



When I take my morning walks, I have no specific routes in mind. My area has an amazing number of connectors and lanes that beckons; and I enjoy the adventure of discovering something new or unusual that captures my attention.

On one of the many lanes and connectors, there is a fence that is a delightful and whimsical display of the many “treasures” an imaginative homeowner had found at garage sales or collected over the years.

Gates are often a sight to enjoy. I came across the “Spirit Deer” gate which stopped me in my tracks.

The homeowner also had another “Spirit Deer” gate at the

front of his house. I was passing his back gate that faced a lane.

On another morning I discovered a pair of ornate gates that shielded a medical building’s parking lot. I had passed it many times and only discovered they showed a pair of hummingbirds. . . .

And what about nooks and crannies? Don’t you just love what creative homeowners do with small spaces? One homeowner made an artistic display of their short driveway fence. And, by a Rooster back gate, there is a rustic seat beneath a shady tree.

On my route homewards, a swinging cat and a vintage bike on a rusty gatepost ruled the scenery. . . .Where do people find these?

It’s amazing what a person can see. . . when a person really looks.


I enjoy hitting the walking route early in the morning. This is the absolute best time to see the wildlife not normally seen later in the day. For me, this is also the coolest time of the day for a lengthy walk. The walk had barely started when I finally topped this hill and spotted Mama Deer and her Twins. She was “teaching” them the joys of nibbling someone’s garden and totally ignored me, so I hauled out my senior cellphone and snapped off a quick photo before noticing “Papa” was watching curiously behind me. Continuing on my way, a family of raccoons ambled across the road and up a long winding driveway. Mama Raccoon leading her 4 babies, while “Dad” followed at the rear–all focused on their morning buffet in another tasty garden. I totally missed that photo-op as I had never seen such a large party of raccoons before. By the time I thought of my cellphone camera, the family had disappeared from view.

It is astonishing how a densely populated urban area can produce wildlife that can somehow survive and thrive. I have seen brown and gray squirrels; numerous deer, bucks and their off-springs; raccoons, a rabbit and a peacock along my various routes.

Gates never stop the wildlife. Deer could go around or jump over them while raccoons could just mosey up the winding driveway like expected guests. Gates fascinated me because some gates screamed “Private, Go Away.”

While other gates beckoned and smiled “Welcome” with a bit of floral art wrapped around the iron work. . . .

Fences and driveways can be amazingly aloof and private but can still give positive vibes with plants, ornaments or a bit of creative thought.

I enjoy the sight of pink roses that add a splash of color poking through a worn fence . . . . or a graceful ornamental crane to brighten a corner of their garden.

I love this sight –it looked so right in the garden. . . .

Splashes of brightly coloured geraniums against this fence, interspersed with bits of tiny blue flowers, grabbed my attention each time I pass. . . .

My early morning walks are a daily adventure as I never know what will be captured by my camera. All I know for sure is that it will tease the senses and make me stop, if only for a moment. . . .


Since the Covid isolation tentatively ended, I’ve noticed friends and family have looked more well-rounded, if you get my drift. Perhaps social interactions–pre-Covid–were often linked to group exercise and snacks, so the enforced self-isolation still linked to snacks, but without the closeness of social activities.

I have a theory about myself. There were no mini-donuts because the weekly Farmers’ Markets, the Arts and Crafts shows, the Collectible Car shows and all the other stuff that brings on the mini-donut carts were all cancelled for 2 long years. I should have been cured of mini-donuts and should have emerged, at least svelte, even if I was still short.

It didn’t work that way–at least, my Fairy Godmother didn’t make it happen.

You know that old saying, “If one addiction flies out the window, another will fly in”?

Well, I discovered a cookie that was so disgustingly healthy, that I can’t believe Hubby and I are devouring them. These cookies are dairy-free, gluten-free and vegan. AND, it shouldn’t have been delicious, but it was.

On one of my long walks, I had stopped to buy some fresh fruit and a bag of Rebel’s Peanut Butter cookies. The Chocolate Chip, the Cashew Butter and the Triple Chocolate with Walnuts slots were empty. There was a bag of White Chocolate with Macadamia Nuts left as well as a couple of bags of Cranberry Oatmeal, but I snagged the last bag of Peanut Butter and eternally grateful that I did. The taste buds were happily saturated with that real peanut butter flavour. And, the cookies were healthy.

Hubby tried one and declared it “O-kay,” which is equivalent to my enthusiastic “a Keeper!”

I tried to remember which store along which route that I got these scrumptious cookies from. None of the stores I returned to had any and no one recognized the brand-name.

I resorted to logical thinking. Selling a cookie that was dairy-free, gluten-free and vegan to boot would need a specific market, so I tackled the organic markets next. The first one I checked carried the Rebel brand but they were waiting for their next shipment that had been delayed by transportation problems. Having the bakery on the Mainland and living on an Island had its drawbacks. But being a resourceful person, motivated by the craving of having my cookie now, I remembered there was a second outlet enroute home. At that store, the new shipment had already been delivered so I got my bags of Peanut Butter, Chocolate Chip and Triple Chocolate with Walnuts.

Hey, you didn’t think I was going to miss out on the chocolate ones, did you? I had checked the list of ingredients and all the chocolate was dark and the chocolate chips were real dark chocolate and not carob. Hubby and I unanimously voted that these were all “keepers.” The best part is I know where to get more when the cookie jar is empty. . . without turning my oven on.


Several Readers have requested this blast from the past as they remembered how much their little boys loved their cars when they were toddlers and still love their cars as adults.

I’ve often been baffled by men and their cars. Don’t get me wrong —I adore any male who knows how to handle an ornery car. That takes talent and artistry and a confident craftsman to deal with automotive problems. I’ve seen calm, gentle men go into shock-mode when confronted with the family car—battered and scraped from the war-zone of a shopping mall parking lot.

Me? I just want my car to take me from Point A to Point B without any hassles. And yes, returned safely too, without any new battle scars from careless shopping carts.

I have seen baby boys grasp their teddy bears and their tiny cars. It’s hard to say if the tiny cars take precedence over Teddy but you can bet your accelerator that the cars play a large part in their genetics.

My stepson has always been attracted to cars. Ever since I knew him as a sixteen year old car junkie, he always had his head under the hood and his hands near the engine, dealing with some doohickey that didn’t sound right, while his girlfriend obligingly stepped on the gas pedal for him. When my grandson was barely old enough to cling to the coffee table, he had a tiny toy car in his hand, making that sound like an engine revving up as he circled around the table. I remembered that because our table still has the grooves his tiny car made as he laughed and made car noises.

I am convinced that all baby boys have a genetic gene labeled “cars/trucks.” Little girls aren’t born with this gene even though they do learn about cars from their dads and/or brothers. But little boys are definitely born with the car/truck gene.

At Home Depot, I’ve seen those shopping carts with the miniature cars attached to the front. While little girls ride like princesses, little boys as young as 14-months, instinctively turn the steering wheel, push buttons , pull levers and honk the horn. See, it’s in their genetics.

Two blocks from our condo, there’s a huge construction site on the corner. A little guy, not quite 2 years old, was totally mesmerized by the huge bull-dozer tearing up the corner lot and tossing huge shovelfuls of dirt into the back of a waiting dump-truck. He had such a gleeful expression on his face by simply watching the action across the street. I’ve seen that same expression on a 4-year old who watched the fire-truck pull into the library parking lot. When the fireman noticed the little tyke’s fascination, he asked the little boy if he would like to come and sit beside him. I have never seen a little face beam so joyfully.

Try this on any 6-months old baby boy—hold a toy car in one hand and a soft stuffy in the other. Watch which one his eyes travel to first, At least 90% of the time, he’ll reach for the toy car. Congratulations–you have probably activated his car/truck gene and set the wheels in motion. Darn it, how can you not love a dedicated male and his car?


When I start my early morning jaunts around my neighbourhood, I often have no idea where my route will take me. I follow my adventurous feet and discover corners and areas I never knew existed. A cedar chip path, off a residential street, led me through a grove of trees. Who would have known this existed except for the locals who lived close by?

With this pandemic heading into its second summer, people have tended to their homes and gardens with much more attention. Some neighbourhood streets have undergone transformations that brings a cheerful ambiance to their area. One street had talented artists who painted utility poles to show that Life doesn’t stop because of a virus.

Some homes are unique in creating spaces with a welcoming hospitality. . . . . .

Some homes choose to have unusual ornaments mysteriously hidden behind the foliage or in plain view.

Others choose to have an eye-catching entrance to their home.

Palm trees always make an impressive entrance and Victoria can certainly boast of palm trees popping up here and there. After all, we are the Banana Belt of Canada, especially in the winters and springs.

My feet are now on the final hill and homeward bound. The magnificent magnolias, in their creamy whites and pale pinks unfurl their petals in the various gardens I pass. But, it’s the stunning deep pinks of the small magnolia trees outside the grocer, that captures my attention.

Almost home and a few specially crafted “free lending libraries” are spotted along the route.

Down a sunny path and I’m finally home—another fun walk to Nowhere. . . . . . . .

MARSHMALLOWS and . . . .

I bought a 5-pound bag of marshmallows the other day. I was at the checkout and it fell into my cart. I told the lady it was for the grandkids but she gave me such a knowing look–she may as well have done the wink-wink thing.

It wasn’t really 5 pounds, probably more like 2 pounds. These were definitely not your normal size marshmallows. I would describe them as marshmallows on steroids. They were huge.

Monster Marshmallows

I will confess I had a craving for some marshmallows. I actually pictured them smaller and dipped in dark Belgian chocolate. Somehow, I got the big bag of colourful ginormous ones that decided they wanted to come home with me.

After he stopped laughing, Hubby told me I was on my own with the monster marshmallows. And after I ate about 5 or 6 or 7–spread over 2 days–I had to figure out some way to use them up. I decided on a pan of the family favourite–the familiar Rice Krispie Squares made of rice krispies, marshmallows and a dollop of margarine.

The bonus of the whole project was a nutritious snack composed of puffed rice, melted marshmallows that were light, slightly chewy and not too sweet; a generous splash of pure vanilla flavouring and a dollop of margarine—low-cal, low sugar, low fat and nutritious as heck.

What could be better for a normal human? Maybe next time I could melt some dark Belgian chocolate into this mixture or even peanut butter. After melting these colossal marshmallows, the colours disappeared somewhere but the results were still delicious.

A Bountiful Early Spring

Some things happen by accident like this awesome photo I took of the cover of my notebook and a piece of fancy ribbon with a sprig of flowers that had adorn my favourite soap. That’s what I call my eureka moment; others might call it a moment of inspiration.

Other things happen because of plain dumb luck—luck that can fall either way—50% good or 50% bad.

And once in a while, the Goddess of Fate smiles because she’s feeling especially great and an unexpected once-in-a-decade gift falls in your lap.

A something that is totally random, totally unplanned.

I swear on a stack of mystery thrillers that when I take my wandering walks, I have no destination in mind—just a vague sort of route that my mind is still deciding upon—but my feet are already taking on the challenge of hills, rocky steps and a chip trail.

Absolutely no thoughts of snacks or food at all.

I love this cool, crisp early Spring weather. Everyone and their dogs seem to be enjoying the fresh air, blue skies and steaming cups of coffee.

Whoa–did I just say steaming cups of coffee? Smiling faces pointed straight ahead and to the left—the walkers’ preferred destination for that area—“Casey’s,” a neighbourhood bakery for fresh-baked pastries, home-made chocolates and hot coffee.

My good fortune was the discovery of Dark Chocolate Kahlua Truffles and hot Mini-Doughnuts, all served up by the baker-man himself.

It was worth those steep hills, rocky steps and chip trail. Now it was time to be homeward bound to share my “bounty” with my Hubby. . .as well as another round on the elliptical