A butterfly with hiccoughs

Here we are on the last day of 2020. Many people have looked back on the year with eloquence and humour and I don’t feel like trying for either one of those, so in my final 2020 post I’m going to hop around among my current thoughts. I don’t know who described thinking as a ‘butterfly with hiccoughs’ but I’ve always loved that image so here goes.

I’m ridiculously happy that I managed to complete two projects in two days. The current ukulele build has been underway for two years now and most things I undertake last for at least a week. I gave R an IOU for new scales on one of the many paring knives we have around here. They came from his parents’ place and have no markings whatsoever on the steel although they are great knives. I’ve done two in the past and decided it was time for a third one. Eventually I hope to do all of them but that means rounding them up and that's for another day.

I didn’t get the scales on in one day but while I was peening the brass rods I used to pin the scales on, I took a good look at the little ball peen hammer that was my dad’s. Ever since I can remember it has been wrapped with electrical tape near the head. To give you an idea of how long the tape has been on there, it is cloth tape, not the plastic sort we use now. I figured the tape was probably to hold the handle together because it was cracked. I decided I could make a new handle so I cut the tape off (the handle was cracked) and then cut the handle off just below the head. I had quite a time getting the remaining piece of wood out of the head. I drilled and whacked at it and completely destroyed the edge on one of my chisels. Luckily I know how to fix that. Eventually I got all the splintery bits out of the head. There was a metal wedge to hold the handle on and when I whacked the last bit out it went on the floor along with the wedge. I did a cursory look and didn’t find it so I decided to use a wooden wedge instead.


We had an ash tree cut down a few years ago and I found a relatively straight-grained piece of ash for a handle. It took me quite a while to shape the handle, fix it into the head and put a finish on it. By the end of the day I had a new handle on the old hammer. There’s a spot near the head where a small branch was growing and I know that will be a weak spot. Since the hammer is small and light and I’m likely to use it only on brass rod and other soft metals, I think it should stand up as long as I need it to and then some.

The second day-long project I finished was a bread saw. I’ve seen them but never owned one. Now that I’m occasionally making bread again, I thought it would be a fun project. I went online and found a place to buy the blades and I watched one of my favourite YouTubers make one using only hand tools. I wasn’t a purist on this project and used the bandsaw to roughly shape the handle. From there I used chisels and rasps and at the end of the day I had a kitchen tool finished with oil and wax and ready to cut bread. Now all I need to do is to bake bread so I can test it out.


I’m a great one for alternate uses of things. Because everything is on Zoom these days, SAWS was able to arrange a Zoom call with Anne of All Trades, a well-known YouTube woodworker. She commented that her grandfather taught her to use what she had to make what she needed. I thought of all the ways that Jake does that when he makes and repairs instruments. I’m pretty sure there’s another post there but I’ll put the brakes on that butterfly.


I needed to put new strings on one of my ukuleles. I haven’t done it that often and I feel like I have ten thumbs when I come to do it. Anyway, I got the strings on and then needed to cut off the excess. I have a number of cutting implements at my disposal but the one I settled on as being easiest to use was a pair of ordinary nail clippers. They are light and they fit into tight spaces so I could cut the strings close.

The second item I found an alternate use for is a little shaker for oil and vinegar dressing. I think R has used it in the past to mix flour and water for gravy but my use is in making hot chocolate. All the hot chocolate mixes contain milk which is difficult for anyone who is lactose intolerant. We treat our milk with drops to make it easier to digest. I’ve always thought that it was a nuisance to make hot chocolate out of cocoa powder - mix sugar and cocoa, add cold milk, mix it up until it’s not lumpy and then add hot water and milk. First I cut down the amount of sugar so the ratio of ingredients became 1:1:1 and then I used the shaker to combine the cold milk, sugar and cocoa. It worked like a charm and it’s really not that hard to do. An added bonus is we have a bit more control over the amount of sugar so our hot chocolate ends up being more like a dark chocolate and I can add a drop of peppermint if I want to be especially decadent.

As this year draws to a close, I've been rereading some of my journal entries. This exercise taught me that if I spent even 1/10 of the time tidying up my study and the shop that I spend thinking I ought to be doing so, both spaces would always be spotless. I'm an untidy creature at heart and I may as well get used to it. When it bugs me enough I'll do something about it. In the meantime I have better things to think about. Resolution? Drop those two 'should's' from my list.

New Year's Eve last year

Finally, I’m pleased that this is my 38 post of 2020. That is the highest number of posts I’ve ever made in a year and I’ve surpassed my goal of two posts a month. Before I get too carried away with patting myself on the back, I know that quantity and quality aren’t the same thing and that got me thinking about what quality is to me in terms of my blog. I guess it’s posting things that are interesting to some of you, most of the time. I realize that everything I write is filtered by the way I view the world and, because of that, there’s a danger to sound like a broken record. I try not to. As I’ve said in the past, I write primarily for myself and I’m pleased and humbled that others find common ground in what I say. I’m grateful that you read these posts and that they connect us to each other. I think 2020 has taught me to look more carefully at the little things that delight me, from hammer handles to chickadees outside the window. In 2021 I’m going to continue to look for what is delightful in the ordinary. I wish each of you pleasant surprises and moments of love and laughter in 2021 regardless of what else is in store for us. Happy New Year.

A merry Covid Christmas

Tree ornament

There are so many uncertainties these days. I have discovered one small certainty that I appreciate thanks to Covid 19. Usually this is a time for rehearsals, performances and parties. Usually I exchange gifts with friends at these other functions. This year, since such gatherings are cancelled, it has given me the chance to pay attention to giving these gifts and make that a focus rather than an afterthought, and it’s been kind of fun.

We made three trips specifically to deliver gifts this year. The first took us out of town on a wonderfully warm winter day on a highway devoid of snow. The drive together was pleasant as we talked and took in the countryside. At our destination we enjoyed air hugs and exchanged gifts at arm’s length before getting back into the car to return home. The other two trips were in town.

Initially we intended to deliver all the gifts on the same day. Our route took us to the south and then to the north of the city. We were going to deliver the gifts to those nearer our home on the way home but we decided we were tired,  and the bird needed feeding.

The final trip was on a grey day with a heavy snowfall warning in the forecast. We delivered the last of our gifts, scuttled home and dug in for the storm. When we got home we discovered gifts in our mailbox. Since then the storm has passed. We are assured of a white Christmas and we have had friends email and text before dropping off gifts for us. It has been fun to see people face to face, however briefly. We don’t need to worry about whether we have cookies in the freezer or whether we should invite friends in. The answer to both questions is no. Whether we are delivering gifts or receiving them, we know that the interactions will be very brief and that has made the moments noticeably precious. Each gift whether given or received, has brought with it sparks of delight and gratitude. As we eat the goodies and, as we put the new ornaments from this year on next year’s tree, we will remember that Christmas 2020 was not only odd but was also oddly special because it brought home, in two and three minute intervals, how important we are to each other.

So, in this familiar season of light in this very odd year, Merry Christmas, Shalom, and may 2021 be good to you.

(Outdoor photos are from around the neighbourhood)

Thoughts on sorrow

I had a chirpy post about baking bread all cued up and ready to go. I will post it later but not today. Today I need to recognize sorrow. I had news yesterday that a young man, the son of a friend, completed suicide on Wednesday. I often try not to post when things look bleak. In this case I have only my words to honour both his life and the family’s grief. These are strange times when we cannot reach out and hug one another or give the briefest of touches when they are most needed. We cannot sit close to each other in silence. And so, today, as we approach the longest night of the year, give a few moments over to gentleness for yourself, for others, and for this weary old world that just keeps chugging along. The days will get longer. The light will return but in the meantime we must sit in the darkness and make peace with it as best we can.

It's all very odd

Today we took an hour’s drive to Didsbury to do a drop-off and a pick-up. Last year at this time we looked forward to having our Didsbury friends in our home, between Christmas and New Years, to share lunch with us. Last year, during that lunch, we talked and laughed until our cheeks hurt. This year we drove up to their house, put on our masks, opened the trunk, got out the box, walked up the sidewalk, exchanged the box we had for them for the bag they had for us, stepped back beyond 6 feet, exchanged a few sentences, smiled behind our masks, mimed hugs, wished each other Merry Christmas, got back in the car and drove home. It was a good day and, at the end of it, I’m happy and content. I have so many good people in my life and every pandemic has an end.

Late afternoon driving home

Preparing for a remote church service

Plastic barriers and masks

I’m not always content. Last week I was angry, irritated, and despairing. Those days pass and with increased perspective, I’ve been looking back on all the excitement and craziness that Christmas preparations usually bring. So often at this time of year I have raced the clock, to get the shopping done, gifts made and wrapped, food made for the numerous parties. It’s always been an enjoyable whirlwind and, this year, things are different. I’m sitting back, taking time, enjoying the quiet. I have gifts to make and some folks may end up getting IOU’s. I have food; I have shelter; I have friends; and I have the ability to connect with those friends remotely. We aren’t able to hug and Zoom is exhausting in its own way, but it’s so nice to see people smile, to laugh with them, even if it is on a screen. We can share photos too, easily and quickly so instead of going on with words, I’ll leave you with images of this unusual holiday season. May you be safe and warmed by the knowledge that we are important to each other.

So many lights

Two birds

Two mourning doves

It all started with an update to my camera. At least it was supposed to be an update. In order to move to the newest update I had to install a program so I did that. Long story short, nothing is ever simple in my relationship to technology and after checking the version of the software on my camera it said I had the latest version even though I know there have been at least two updates since then. The way I often deal with these things is to ignore them and either come back later or ask Richard for help. I went into ignore mode.

But that got me thinking that I should, perhaps, download all of the images from my SD card onto my laptop. I managed that and then decided it would be a good idea to have a look through the images that I took this year. So I started in.

When you look at images as a large group rather than in small sections you notice patterns. I found an incredible number of bird photos. Not really a surprise since that’s what most interests me. Among the sparrows, magpies, flickers, woodpeckers, and songbirds, two days and two birds stood out.

A wing stretch can be a greeting

We were camping at Little Bow Provincial Park and I noticed a mourning dove walking around in the campsite next to ours. It settled on the gravel pad and just sat for a long time. I took a few photos of it marvelling at how well camouflaged it was. I walked over towards it slowly and it didn’t move or show any sign it was aware of my presence. I went back to what I was doing and it was still there until almost dark. I didn’t see it leave.

The next day a mourning dove flew down from a tree and settled in the long grass at the edge of our campsite. Soon it was joined by another one. I got out my camera and knelt on the ground a couple of metres away. I watched the birds for a while before I picked up my camera. Again they didn’t seem at all bothered by my presence. From that moment time stood still. I talked softly to the birds as I took photo after photo. I moved closer to them. They continued to behave as if I wasn’t there. They preened, fished through the grass for food, stretched their wings, looked around and, eventually they both closed their eyes.

Contentedly preening

The sun was quite a bit lower in the sky when I realized that my legs were stiff from being on my knees and my arms were tired from holding up my camera and telephoto lens. I backed away from the birds saying a quiet thank you. I felt privileged to be so close to wild creatures and observe them as they rested.


As I went through the photographs today I felt a profound sense of calm even as I had the afternoon I watched the birds. I decided to pull together some of my favourite images of the year so I could look at them all in one spot. I plan to return to this folder on Christmas Day and probably New Year’s Eve so I can be reminded of the moments of rest that came during 2020 amid all the chaos of a global pandemic. It helps to have places to go in my imagination when I want a break from the chaos of daily life. There is a saying that chopping wood warms twice: once as you chop it and once as you burn it. The photos of the mourning doves calmed twice: once as I watched them through the lens and again when I revisited their photos on my screen. May all of us find things we can turn to when the Covid case counts rise and the world seems to have turned upside down.

One sleeps while the other watches