Lobsters, Asparagus and Rhubarb

Nova Scotians are very social beings and we've been visiting, been visited, and going to events ever since we arrived. Today, the plan is to catch up on some rest. We'll see what the day brings.

At some point, food will reign. Yesterday we drove via the Shinamacas detour ( the bridge is still out ) to Pugwash and Port Howe, stopping at Chase's pound to get some freshly cooked lobster, and next at a local farmer's for just picked asparagus and rhubarb. We went to a dinner party last night, so everything is waiting to be eaten today.

I don't really like rhubarb, but this batch looked tender and wonderful and I've found an interesting recipe for baked rhubarb, so I'll give it a try.

It's lobster season in this part of the Northumberland Strait and Pugwash harbor had a good number of lobster boats at the docks. Fishing for these delicacies is tightly controlled, with a limited number of fishing licenses being sold. The waters here are divided into sections and have designated fishing seasons. A worker in a lobster pound once told me that when the sea is angry, the lobsters inside the pound get agitated. They all seemed in a good mood yesterday, subdued by the quiet waters and fog, no doubt.

In general, it's said that the best lobsters are caught in the fall, after Labor Day.
But we don,t wait!

We have an astonishing crop of dandelions this year. The yellow of them vibrates. In all of these 18 acres, we don't have anywhere we call a lawn, so the dandelions are as welcome as the little blue flowers that pop up everywhere. If anything around here needs to be cut, it's called "the grass", and we don't put any expectations on it. . All the rest is as wild as it wants to be.

When we first moved in, we created something we called the Japanese Garden in the middle of the circular drive. It was all controlled and cultivated and filled with rock that needed to be raked - most Zen like. Within a year, the space developed its own Nova Scotia profile. With seed carried by wind or wing, plants popped up everywhere. It's become an annual surprise to return to find out what took hold in the "Japanese Garden" each spring. Last year, it was poppies. This year, there's a profusion of Forget Me Nots.

Our wonderful dog, Fundy, is buried there......under the hackmatack and in the shade of the wild roses. Never to be forgotten.

The crows are communicating in the field, their voices carried by the wind as I write. We're here in Nova Scotia, after our migration from Arizona to Tidnish Bridge. On the last driving day, our rational brains told us to stop and spend the night in Bangor or Calais, Maine, but our hearts told us to push on, cross the border and drive HOME. We followed our hearts and arrived at 10 P.M. Amazingly, the dogs perked up from their back seat travel mode stupor and came to life as we came up the drive. Their noses were wildly sniffing, so we think it was their memories, not ours that drove their euphoria.

We're loving being here. Friends just stopped by, we opened the homemade wine ( French Cabernet we bottled just before we left here in November) and enjoyed the reunion and the wine. Will write tomorrow.