Another New Year to Celebrate

According to the Vietnamese version of the Lunar calendar, today is the first day of the Year of the Cat. For those of us who have learned to bow to the beliefs entrenched in Chinese culture, today marks the beginning of the Year of the Rabbit.  

And in keeping with the further tradition of combining elements with each animal in the zodiac, this is the year of the water rabbit, which sounds like it might be a good year for growing things. 

The rabbit in the photo is one that used to frequent our front yard, very likely because we're the 'bad' house where the lawn is only rarely cut, in keeping with the natural look of the rest of our yard. 

At least we aren't at the mercy of a Home Owner's Association who might send their patrols out to cut the lawn themselves and then likely hand us a hefty fine. 

I suspect that, come spring and summer, once the grass starts to grow again, the bunnies will be back. After all, this year has their name on it.  

Leapification

Here we are at another Leap Day, a day that turns out to be full of odd celebrations and customs.

And really, February 29th holds a lot of potential as a great date for some rare and eccentric traditions. Just think, we'd have a full four years to plan our escapades.

Not a day for jumping, only leaping. We could leap to conclusions without fear of reprisal, feel our hearts leap at thoughts of true love, or spend the day in inspired speculations, making leaps of faith and logic.

About the only leaps I made today were small leaps of progress in the garden, as I gave both raspberry and blackberry vines their annual mega-prune. It's a job that always grants a share of satisfaction, maybe just because I know how tasty the summer crop will be.

As for the bridge sign above, the water flowing beneath it was beautiful and inviting. I think you were just supposed to swim from the bank below rather than cannon-balling off the railings.

Must admit to having several leaps in mind for myself, as I suppose we should all have a dream or two that requires, at the very least, some leap of imagination. Leap on.

Ruled by the moon

So many people, so many different places on Earth, observe a calendar based on the moon. The Asian calendar, with its welcome this weekend to the Year of the Dog, is one of those.

We celebrated in our own small way by cooking up some delicious (store-bought, frozen) siu mai (shumai) to go with the rest of our decidedly western supper (spaghetti -- though, wait a minute, weren't noodles invented in China?). If you look carefully, you'll see that there's a traditional red envelope in view, though ours didn't contain money, but a couple of lottery tickets.

It wasn't long ago that I learned a bit about a First Nations tradition called Hoobiyee, a celebration that marks the new year according to the moon. It was also linked to the return of the oolichan to the river, an important event marked by the Nisga'a.

I wasn't able to see the moon last time it was 'new' (February 15th), but I'm hoping its shape was more of an upturned crescent than a downturned one. My reason goes back to one of the concepts I learned about Hoobiyee: the first new moon after the new year indicates what kind of harvests there will be. An upturned one (cup-like) indicates bounty, while a downturned one, the opposite. Especially where I've just pruned our berry bushes, I am already looking for a good harvest later this summer.

And after our yummy sampling last night, I suspect, before the week is out, I am going to want to go to a restaurant for a celebratory feast of more dim sum.

12-13-14

Today is the last day in most of our lifetimes when we'll be able to write the date as a consecutive set of numbers. Next time this opportunity comes up is more than 88 years from now, on the second of January, 2103.

Even then, to make it work, zeroes will have to be incorporated: 01-02-03,

It's likely by then no one will even notice the zero, as digitization of everything will have long occurred.

I'm not sure whether I'm disappointed or relieved to discover I'm not the only one who's considered the importance of this date.

A numbers nut I'll admit to being, but I suspect there are worse things to be.

Grace found in a kitchen garden

I never understand how February can feel so long, and yet how it can slip away so quickly. Here it’s been nearly two weeks since I’ve even posted anything. But that doesn’t mean that nothing’s happened. In fact, it’s more like the opposite: too much has happened, my world’s been all a-whirl.

Even a sixth blogiversary came and went (February 16th) without so much as a candle on a virtual cake.

I can’t help but think this lunar year’s water dragon may have something to do with it. The dragon’s arrival and this swirl of activity seem to have coincided.

Despite the fact that I am not a fan of white stuff that falls from the sky (or, for that matter, most things referred to as ‘white stuff’ whether dust that grows under the bed or cocaine), yesterday’s brief snowfall seemed like a message to slow down.

One of the first harbingers of spring, the snowdrop bends to whatever weathers may befall it. Its grace inspires tolerance, acceptance and calm.

The snowdrop blooming in the snow-dusted garden will be the symbol that carries me through the rest of this hurried month. Even with February’s extra day this year, March feels awfully darn close. And who knows, maybe I can carry the message of the snowdrop even longer.

...and out with the old?

Well, maybe not all of it.

In the early '70s, a friend named Bryan Yates gave me this little brass calendar -- an item boldly known as a perpetual calendar. Since it promised to keep track of the days from 1971 to 2010, that sounded perpetual enough for me. Back then, 2010 seemed about as distant as Jupiter.

Only, oops -- now, even that year is gone.

So, does this mean I should ditch the gift I've kept so long? Heck, it even came along with me when I lived in Australia for the years 1989 and 2002.

All I have to do to keep it in working order for the year is pretend it's 1983. I could have also chosen 2005, 1994, or even 1910, as all of them are equivalents, but I still have a lot of great memories from 1983.

When you think of all we have in our lives that didn't exist then, most of us probably want to remain here in the second decade of the 21st century. Though, I don't know -- maybe one of these days time travel will present a whole new wave of tourism.