On September 8 2012, I was at the Sand’s Mud Bog which I wrote about earlier. This morning my cousin T sent me a photo that I think is great so I wanted to share. Better late than never, am I right?
Here I am with a few of my fabulous cousins. Good times!
Makes me wish I was home right now.
Update: Not five minutes ago I posted this and turned off my computer, HJ bent over to pick up the dog and can’t stand up… something in his lower back… So, I won’t be leaving tonight after all… just sitting here listening to Canned Heat and Hj whining… He will not (of course) go to Emerg. Men!
We are leaving Hamilton now. It is nearly 3 hours later than we expected to go… Hope the traffic is totally clear. If it is we should be there by 1:00 am or even a bit earlier.
Keep your wheels on the road, that is the plan.
See you soon Tiny House!
xo L
When I was a child, one of the symbols for Canada was the Ookpik. I have one of the old original 1960′s versions made out of seal skin. I like the silly thing and it seems to me to be the perfect Tiny House Ontario decor addition. A Tiny thing from slightly simpler times.
This morning I woke with the sound of Rudigrrr Wolf growling. Apparently he just now noticed the Ookpik and believes that it is very scary!
Who could have guessed that Tiny Wolves have one great fear? Beware the Ookpik! 
With the fall settling in, a walk along the ridge seemed like a great idea.
I had a significantly worse time at the dentist yesterday than I had anticipated. My eyes were swollen nearly shut and my lips are double big, like that movie star with all the kids. Sexy, I suppose, if they did not hurt so badly. They found that the tooth which they intended to crown had to go… and it did not go well. They had to keep me under for five hours while they yanked and pulled. I am sore, groggy, dizzy, forgetful and irritable today. Not a good time to get on the train to Toronto, then to Kingston, then get back to THO. The trip from door to door takes about 6 hours which is more than driving (if the traffic flow is good) due to the always long and silly stop over in Toronto, wait times and so on.
This said, I am happy to say that the day before my surgery, my cousin Sandy was by to visit me and brought me this wonderful old photo of my Great Grandmother “Ma” Violet Henderson Compton. I never saw a photo of her from her youth. I honestly never imagined her to be so lovely because I never saw her before she was old, or before all the hardship she faced. She was such a good person: sweet, kind, patient and I loved her dearly. Still, if you will forgive me for saying this, she always looked sort of worn out even when she was dressed up. I knew her history, that she married young and that she and my great grandfather “Dad” lost their barn to a fire just as the country headed forcefully into the Great Depression. I know that financially they did not recover until the end of the Depression from that single significant loss. They moved from home in Kingston Mills when the barn burned, to another in Tweed, then to another in Glenvale, and then finally to another in Sydenham during those hard, hard years. In those years the kids kept coming too, 11 in all, there was no good way to prevent pregnancy in those years. Too, adding to her hardship, Dad, her husband was more of a poet who loved horses, then he was a farmer who loved to toil. He snuck away into his room and spent hours reading himself blind, like me. She was hand washing and bringing in water from the pump, cooking meals and suckling the rejected lambs. I don’t recall ever seeing her sit down, even when she became sick. She went from running, to laying down; a woman with no moderation. I expect she never had time to reflect.
My grandma, also named Violet, spoke often of those times. She spoke with particular sadness about the Glenvale house.
This small house was just as old then as it is now according to my grandma. She admonished me for taking a photo of it, she said she only wanted to forget those times. There were ten children and two grown ups in the house at that time because the youngest would be born later, and the land was such that Dad was not able to pull a living out of it. It was all rocks. The boys slept in one small room upstairs and the girls in the other small room. Ma and Dad slept downstairs in the corner. She said the wind blew through the house like it had no walls at all. They cooked all summer and froze all winter. It was a standard log house with clap boards nailed outside. The house is a centre hall plan of about 600 square feet 30×20 feet with a sloped ceiling divided loft. This was a very standard way of building a house about 200 years ago when those who built it settled here.
The joy that they had when Father Carey set them up on the Carey farm was clear. Finally they had the space they needed and a very comfortable home.
Nice to see the new owners are restoring the Carey Farm to its original magnificence! Imagine what it would have been like for them to move from that horrible little house to this beautiful well built stone one! Goes to show you that Tiny is not always best. Quality matters a whole lot too.
When Colleen Murphy and I walked back through the forest a few days ago, I was surprised to see that Great Clyde, the Tim Burton tree is suffering a terrible tilt. I did not see it happen so I cannot say for sure, but three weeks ago he was fine. Old but fine.
Now he is threatening a great fall to the ground. I am guessing that it was the tail end of Hurricane Isaac that shifted him, this is my best guess. I hope the his life is not a trade for the recovery of the files from my waterlogged computer (even though I am happy that my files were recovered and loaded well onto my new computer) I am not sure if my writing is worth this loss. Clyde is so great!
You know, I know he is just a tree in the forest where so many hail. But sometimes you can see the tree in the forest… because some of them stand out uniquely against the others. Clyde is one such tree. I estimate by his size his age is somewhere between 300-400 years of age. A long liver for sure. But his age is not the only thing about him. He is special like Bonnie, who you know and Twerp, who I have never written about, but will.
From the South, Clyde looks nearly fine.
Even the giant hole which was left when he lost a huge limb looks pretty good. Actually it looks like a nice home for wildlife.
From the West, it is shocking to see how much the balance of weight has shifted. If I was really great with a big saw, I would climb up and cut off the huge and heavy bow. I am guessing that the weight of this is no longer balanced with the loss of that big limb. Even with heroics, I fear that it is too late to save the beautiful old tree.
Poor Clyde.
I am heading back to Tiny House Ontario tomorrow in the early morning. I understand that we have had enough rain there to keep things going for another day or two so this is good.
I was hoping that when I returned that I would not have to get on my Tank Girl gear and start fighting Water and Power for Our share. Glad that dystopia was diverted… at least for the time being. Frankly, life will be easier at THO when we can get a well in. Though, I do know that I could not water the whole forest and the loss of those trees makes me really unhappy, even though there was nothing realistically that I could do to help them.
For the time being, I head back soon in the slightly softer Tank Girl suit and keep on keepin’on.
There are a lot of ravens around Tiny House Ontario this year. I am beginning to believe that they are there for a reason. I think that one of the messages that ravens give is to look North. They are also bearers of fortune and magic according the book Animal Speak.
Funny thing is, that I just love to look out this window to the North. I don’t recall doing this so much last year as I do this.
This is taken in the morning while I had a coffee.
Do you find it interesting, or is it just me?
I have noticed many people in (and around) the Tiny House community wondering about building Tiny House Communities. I was out for a little drive around my community and decided to take a few peeks in at the beautiful Rideau Canal. On one of my stops I noticed a Tiny Cottage community which I realize is simply small rental cottages; however, I wonder since these are already built, would these not be a good location for a Tiny House Community? I also think that they set a precedence for Tiny House Communities to be allowed within Ontario. At least in the communities which have allowed these Tiny seasonal cottages. Any lawyers reading who have experience with municipal building codes, input would be excellent!
Adorable aren’t they?
In the evening just before night, the darkness begins to rise up from the forest floor.
Here is what it looks like to the North of Tiny House Ontario.
Please excuse the annoying sound of allergies in my voice.
