Hey, We’re In Canada, Eh?

Well, Russ and I have been in the Toronto/Kitchener area since last Tuesday, and will head home Monday. I miss my Buckle, but mostly I’m missing these two snow fairies:


1white winter Char

It’s VERY snowy up here, too, but mostly of the it’s-already-on-the-ground variety as opposed to the falling-out-of-the-sky variety. We have had such great time in Canada, which is mostly due to these guys:


Kevin Pauls and Don Somerville are both ridiculously talented AND fun to hang out with–(and trust me, in the music biz those two things do not always go together…) Looking forward to lots of new adventures with these knuckleheads.

We have been welcomed with open arms everywhere we’ve gone, and though the weather and the fact that Russ developed a wee bit of what we like to affectionately call the Tsunami Stomach Virus (don’t ask) kept us from doing as much sightseeing as we would have liked, we still managed to thoroughly enjoy ourselves. I mean, how could we NOT, when people were providing hospitality like this:



(Special thanks to Steve and Marg (the Martha Stewart of Canada) Taylor for such a lovely evening, and to Carol Dudgeon for the photos.)

So, after a Sunday night concert, we will be winging our way back to Tennessee where I will be impatiently awaiting the first signs of spring and dreaming of days like this, spent here:


So, kids– how was your week?

Iced In

It’s really beautiful, in an eerie kind of way.

The entire world– at least the part of the world I can see out of my parlor window– looks like it has been dipped in molten glass. When the sun hits the icicles hanging from the utility wires and the ice-covered branches of the magnolia tree, they glitter like a Swarovski crystal.

This sweet old house is kind of drafty, so the fancy wood-encased electric heater our neighbor Greg gifted us with last winter is making a return appearance, tucked discreetly in the space by the end of the couch. It warms the room up nicely, especially when I close the big pocket doors.

There are not one, not two, but three cats curled up on various pieces of furniture scattered around the parlor. I am still somewhat in shock about this, considering how very cat-allergic I am. I’m OK until I pet them, but how can you not pet a cat that winds around your legs and jumps up in your lap to make biscuits on your stomach while it purrs so loudly the couch vibrates? So, I just take an Allegra with my morning coffee and settle in to pet the crap out of them. They deeply appreciate this, with the exception of Catsy Cline, who may or may not be bi-polar and I am not even kidding. She can turn on a dime– from lazily slow-blinking her eyes in gratitude and leeeeeaning into my hand while I scratch under her chin, to suddenly lashing her tail back and forth, flattening her ears and simultaneously sinking her teeth into my hand while furiously rabbit-kicking my wrist, claws-out. Then she’s fine.

(I have now profusely apologized to Bitch Cat for her name. Clearly I was a little premature, and should have saved that name for the orange and white dump kitten from hell.)

While I will admit I was getting a wee bit stir-crazy around Day 4 of not being able to leave the house, it was kind of cosy to just hunker down and wait it out. Now that I can (cautiously) drive again, I’m already missing the slow, dream-like quality of those quiet grey mornings alone downstairs, sipping coffee and gazing out the window, waiting for the rest of the house to wake up. Funny how an ice storm gives you permission to just… sit still.

**The following pictures were taken by a whole bunch of my Bell Buckle friends and posted on Facebook this week. I picked out some of the very best ones so I could show you all how lovely our little town looks when it is covered in ice! **

Photo credit belongs to: Madonna, Rowina, Carolann, Sally, Linda,  Carla, Vincent, LouAnn, Betsy and me. 

1BB rowinaICE

1BBmadonna cow

1BBmadonna arch

1BBvincent louAnn smith



1BBmadonna weathervane


1BBmadonna sphere

1BB lindahoward



1BBmadonna bell


Tori Taff

I’m Tori, and I’m a late-blooming Baby Boomer. Read more!



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