Posts Tagged ‘Hintonburg’

Spring in Ottawa is a fleeting experience. Too soon, the cold of winter melts into the heat and humidity of summer, leaving a few short weeks of warming days and cooler nights.

The Springs of my Nova Scotian childhood were longer, damper, and a gently unfolding discovery of emerging bulbs, new leaves, violets and a hidden world slowly coming back to life.

Spring, in my mind, has a scent — wet mud with a tinge of cut grass wafting on a warm, salted breeze.

The aroma of Spring holds a high note of violets and lilac blossoms, and a bottom note of farmer’s fields.

Spring in Ottawa smells like this, too, for about a week.

It’s sandwiched between the “melting stage” (dog poo, vehicle exhaust, and skating rink) and the “cook an egg on the sidewalk” stage (chip truck, hot parking lot, splash pad chlorine).

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In our family Santa doesn’t fill the stockings, our family members do. We have a lot of fun trying to find the perfect little gifts to tuck inside and, as much as possible we buy them from the shops in our neighbourhood here in Ottawa.

Stumped for stocking stuffers? (more…)

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The park at the end of our street is a wonderful space for kids. There are broad paved paths perfect for learning to ride bikes, a smaller play structure for climbing and sliding, lots of little hills to roll down and tables and seating to encourage congregation of families and neighbours.

About the only thing missing from this great little gem, IMO, are some kid-friendly plants with flowers to be enjoyed or picked that are hardy enough to withstand the heat from the asphalt and the love from the children. What the park accomplishes in fun and function, it sorely lacks in visual appeal. A few half-hearted efforts in years past have left a couple patches of mangy forsythia bushes, some enthusiastic daylilies, a couple random tulips, and violets that have self-seeded sporadically around the park.

Fortunately, I’ve a surfeit of Spring-flowering plants needing new homes.

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A couple weeks ago, during a meat brining binge with friends, we were visited by a friendly little marmalade cat named Amos. #2, a motherly sort of boy who instinctively believes that everyone and everything is his friend, decided he was going to take Amos under his wing and show him the ropes of living in our house.

He coaxed him indoors, introduced him to the cat food dishes, showed him the boys’ room, and tried to help him make friends with our cats. Once he declared he was renaming the cat “Paul”, we decided it was time to help Amos find his way back home. Fortunately his address was on his harness and his house was around the corner. The three of us carted him back to his home and #2 said goodbye.

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