It's a grey day at the farmette with pops of sunshine once in a while. Sad news that Gordon Pinsent died. A true Canadian icon who shone brightly. The weather is topsy turvy on the west coast, with California bracing for a blizzard (!) and Vancouver staring down a dump of snow. Again, how about that climate change.
On Friday, I did a little day trip over to Thornbury. Had lunch with my sister, her good friend Leanne from St. Thomas and her daughter Olivia. Erin and Nick came along to the Bruce Wine Bar as well. It was excellent. I had the pickerel bowl. Yum.
Went shopping in the afternoon and picked up a lovely sweater at half off because it was end of season. (Even though we all know - in spite of Wiarton Willie - that we're in for lots more winter.)
For the past couple of years, I've had to suspend my nature walks because of a bout with plantar fasciitis. It's a bugger and I won't go into details, but it affects the soles of your feet - which I kind of needed for the hiking.
Anyhow. While I'm not completely healed, I decided on Valentine's Day that enough was enough. I really missed my daily 3.5 kilometre (I think) walk/dance, so I started back on the trail.
Here I am with my Sennheiser wireless headphones. I walk/dance because I can't help it when I listen to oldie-fartie playlists on the iPhone. Songs that go back 40 years (!) like Making it Work by Doug and the Slugs, and The Love Shack by the B-52s.
Yes, a 59-year-old doing the hokey pokey with arms flying and legs bouncing through the woods and into the neighbourhood streets. I'm my 20-year-old self's nightmare. Okay, this is not a great pic, but I'm still learning - after YEARS - how to take a selfie. Oh well.
It is truly amazing what a nature walk (accompanied by funky music) can do for your soul. And the trail is just down Douglas Street not far from the farmette.
The route is interrupted by Park Street, where, to my surprise, new houses are being built. It's kind of nice to see infilling and new families moving to town.
My walk takes a fairy steep dip down to the mighty Saugeen, where, on occasion, I see ducks riding the current like skilled white water rafters.
The cold, crisp air combined with tramping through the white stuff is a truly restorative exercise. Combined with the sometimes vigorous dancing, I'm usually fairly, ahem, sweaty, when I arrive back at the farmette.
That's okay. Rob and the cats are used to me being a bit pongy. Gotta say that taking the 3/4 hour in the late afternoon for a trek helps. A lot. Highly recommend.
Gratuitous cat photo courtesy of Beatrix, who likes to 'lump' under the wool blanket that drapes the Rossie chair (so named because it came from a dear friend's cottage who has finished her time here on earth). So much for keeping cat fur off the furniture. Until next week.
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