If there hadn’t been women we’d still be squatting in a cave eating raw meat, because we made civilization in order to impress our girlfriends. Orson Welles
All fall in!
Lined up and ready for dinner!!!
This lot arrived compliments of our generous neighbour… who just happens to be a lobster fisherman. A happy surprise phone call on a Sunday morning!
They were deliciously fresh, of course. But. Still. I can help but wonder just how hungry must the first person to eat a lobster have been …. (it’s a perennial question for me.). There’s a lot of amour on those “sea bugs”.
WPC – Order
I realize that cities and towns the world over usher in the last weeks before Christmas with a ceremony that often includes the lighting of a tree.
And it’s no different in Lunenburg.
Or maybe it is.
As the self-proclaimed “Balsam Fir Capital of the World”, Lunenburg County takes Christmas trees very seriously. It follows that the town would sport a real beauty. And everyone wants in on the action. So a lovely “festival of trees” cluster around the official tree – individuals, families, and organizations sponsor the trees. There must be a hundred trees there this year (I didn’t count them).
Several hundred people gathered last night to witness the lighting of these trees. There was such a lovely feeling in the group.
People reunited with old friends, made new ones, enjoyed treats from the outdoor market and sang carols. I was lucky enough to stand next to a friend and former music teacher who has the most beautiful soprano voice. (Naturally, I lip-synced).
Children laughed and ran round with their friends – dogs barked. It was a joyful scene.
Then. The moment came for the countdown to flicking the switch and light trees. A hush. 10, 9, 8 … 3, 2, 1!! A communal gasp! And the perfect finish as the Kinderchoir sang a German Carol.
And that, my friends, is a little bit of Lunenburg magic.
(Apologies for the poor photo quality – caught up in the moment)
The edge of the roof on St John’s Anglican Church, Lunenburg, Nova Scotia.
Some of you may remember that this lovely lady suffered a devastating fire onHallowe’en night, 2001. This site has been a place of worship ever since the Town of Lunenburg was settled in 1753. It would have been an easy decision to tear down what remained, and build a spanking new church in its place. So, it is a great credit to the community (of the church, the town, the province and the country) that the decision was taken to do the right thing – not the easy thing. Instead, a massive and completely sympathetic restoration was undertaken and completed in 2005.
And here she stands. Lovely on a foggy September evening.
The world is full of people who have never, since childhood, met an open doorway with an open mind. – E. B. White
This doorway frames in invitation to enter into this peaceful garden room and recharge. It belongs to the bright, new star of the vibrant Lunenburg coffee shop scene: No 9, Montegue Street.
Later this month the Lunenburg Foundry (est 1891) plans to demolish the Old Machine Shop building (which dates from 1907).
This is the building in which items cast at the foundry were machined and the patterns for casting were created in wood. And here, too, the Atlantic brand make-and-break engine was designed and built. These engines were sold world-wide.
This building has witnessed the rise and fall of the Grand Banks fishing schooner, the end of the age of sail as well as both world wars. With it goes a a significant piece of Lunenburg’s, Nova Scotia’s and Canada’s built history.
And here are just a few of the patterns that were offered up for sale last weekend in advance of the demolition.
I think these were specifically parts for the Little Cod wood stove. My grandfather had one of these sweet little stoves on his schooner. Seems an unlikely combination: a wood burning stove aboard a wooden schooner.
Linked to Norm’s Thursday Doors.
This scene is part of my morning commute. This beautiful Lunenburg Dory greets me in the morning and again in the afternoon.
Now, I am not a morning person. Slow to rise, and constantly underestimating the time it takes to get out the door generally makes for a rushed, and frazzled drive to work. I have always been that way.
When I see scenes like this one, where the water is calmand the morning light is perfect, I regret not having the time for a photo. No time to stop.
But on this particular morning (last Wednesday) I couldn’t resist. I could not. I pulled over, hauled out my phone, quickly snapped the shot, then rushed off. Not a second to spare to check the photo.
Later, however, when I caught my breath, I was glad I stole the moment. Maybe, tomorrow I’ll get up a bit earlier 😉 .
WPC – spare