leaves preserved with glycerine

While driving to Halifax early last week for work, I noticed a few spots along the highway where there were many tiny oak trees trying valiantly to grow along the edge of the road. Perhaps because they were stressed, they had some seriously lovely red leaves. I crossed my fingers that they would still be there on my way home, made a mental note of where they were and what I would do with them, and pulled over to pick some on Friday.

Years ago, I remember reading about glycerine preserved leaves, but for some reason never tried making them until now. I am thrilled with the results! The colour isn't as intense as it was when the leaves were picked, but I may have crammed too many leaves into the solution. Regardless, they're just lovely, and I just had to share.

The process is easy peasy, and the boys were eager to help. Here's the deal:

Mix two parts water to one part glycerine and warm gently on the stove until you see it homogenize. (You don't need a whole lot; I used a 250mL bottle of glycerine and two cups of water. I have about 2 cups of solution left after preserving about 25 leaves.) Let it cool (if it's too warm it cooks the leaves and drains the colour), and pour the solution into a glass baking dish. Layer in the leaves (you can also try flowers, twigs, etc.) and cover somehow so the leaves stay submerged. A sheet of wax paper did the trick nicely for me; I just laid it down so there was no air between the paper and the solution. Let it sit for 3-5 days, then carefully remove the leaves, rinse, and dry. Awesome bonus - the extra solution can be saved and reused. The leaves are pliable and perfectly preserved, and should last for several years! Next year, I'm going to try some maple leaves. And probably anything else I can get my hands on.

Glycerine is available at most pharmacies, so it shouldn't be difficult to find. Incidentally, it's a humectant and is a by-product of large scale soapmaking. When lye and oils combine, soap and glycerine are created. In commercial soapmaking process, the glycerine is separated for use in other cosmetics and sold on its own. In lovely handmade soap, the glycerine is not removed, which is why most people notice a huge difference in how moisturized their skin feels when using handmade soaps vs. box store soaps.

I'll also take this opportunity to show off my new (very old) handmade drop-leaf kitchen table. I swoon every time I walk by.


don't look at this post if you have a snake phobia (LL, I mean you!)

I've been particularly thankful for my work lately. It's primarily what's been keeping my so very busy over the past several weeks, but in a good way. I spent the last week with colleagues doing professional development, which is always good, and although there are never enough hours in a day to get it all done, I kind of feel like I'm in a good groove. I have a job that I love, in a field that is fascinating and always evolving, and I get to work with a lot of fantastic teachers and school staff all over my end of the most beautiful province in the country. I consider that a whole lot of wonderful.

That said, I certainly enjoy the rest of my time. It's hard for me to switch from ultra-efficient work mode to home mode some days, though. I'll keep trying.

I discovered this song last week and can't stop singing it. (Warning: it's sooooo catchy.)

This video made my day a lot lighter. I think everyone wants to be friends with that couple. And I love the idea that there are people out there who are relaxed and open and real enough to be willing to sing on command. I know that my first reaction would be to be embarrassed and jump in the car. Those people are open to the world! I love it.

Okay, it's bedtime for me. Good night!


refrigerated pancakes and other real-life truths

So I made this delicious batch of pumpkin pancakes several weeks ago now, meaning to post the recipe for you right away. But I forgot to take pictures when they were fresh, so I took a couple the next day when they were a bit stiff and rubbery from the fridge (you can totally tell), then neglected to post them until now. Of course, I've since forgotten exactly how I modified my usual recipe to make them pumpkin-y and delicious. (It involved adding pumpkin, some spices, and a bit more flour. Sorry, that's all I can come up with tonight.)

In other real-life truths, I have a monster headache right now (the kind that comes along with a bit of nausea), the fire went out and I can't get it going again, apparently I have a disc issue in my back (so I shouldn't be crouching to get said fire going anyway), we have another health thing going on in our house that's occupying some brain space, and I'm behind where I'd like to be with work stuff.

I don't want you to think that my other, mostly happy posts aren't authentic - that's genuinely how I am the vast majority of the time. And tonight, although this is just as genuine, I know that it will pass, and the headache will most likely be gone come morning. I know how trivial these things are in the grand scheme of things. Just keepin' it real.

And so, I will take my current book (P.D. James again!) up to bed early, hopefully get a superb rest, and take tomorrow as it comes. Good night!


my favourite season

I went for a quick lunchtime walk this past week, squeezed in between school visits, and found an acorn jackpot! Adam brought home some organic honeycrisp apples from the market yesterday. They are oh, so very delicious - if they're available in your neck of the woods, give them a try. They're best eaten out of hand.

A few other little lovelies:

I love this necklace.

We need some new dining chairs. I love these ones.

Speaking of chairs, I could use a pair of these.

And now that I've got 'a case of the gimmes and the wants' as my friend Christine says, I'm off to make some maple oat scones for my boys. (They are INCREDIBLE.) Hope you're enjoying the weekend and some beautiful fall weather!



This stunning sunrise was how my Monday started. Not too shabby at all, eh? Seriously, (and I'm not trying to sound dramatic) it felt like an honour to witness. One of those humbling yet uplifting moments in the presence of something so far beyond little old me.

And in much more muted tones, from one evening last week when the clouds overhead lit up in beautiful pinks and peach at sunset.