Friday All Darn Day

My afternoon walk.

There was a thin layer of ice on the water.

Today, water is laying on the driveway and it is warm enough to go out without a coat.

***

Kathy, we should meet in the middle. I'll bring Rooty and you bring Stella, and we'll exchange. I know someone whose old Retriever is so old his face is almost white. They will soon have an "opening" for some wayward hound.

***

I have been very tempted by a chihuahua mix named Dora. But I let Scott talk me out of offering her a home. I do sort of regret it though, and if I should hear that Dora was on her way to the Auschwitz for dogs I'd step in and take her before letting that happen.

Gotta work. Went to Kuroki this morning to drop off the household garbage and Karen was home so I drove out to her place for a cuppa kaffee.

Late Harvest

The crop still isn't in.

Scott and his dad thought they'd be able to combine today, but the grain was too tough. Maybe tomorrow.

There is still some snow on the ground, as you can see.

Pupskin Full of Dog

This little fella needs a home.

From his current caregiver:
"He is intelligent, playful but calm, quiet, looks before he investigates. Has started to play with a ball and is good to chew on a bully stick (or my dog's elbows) and not my stuff.
I've started leash work and he sleeps in a kennel. Quit crying after the first night. He can go up and down stairs but still hesitates a bit going up.
I named him Rooty Root Bear (Rooty) because if I had an orange t-shirt for him, that's who he'd look like!"

In northern Saskatchewan, as in many other places, people don't or can't spend the money to have their pets spayed. Often hungry pups as well as older dogs are left to roam the streets; they often pack up and become a serious danger to humans as well as other animals. Many end up at the pound and are put to death after several weeks.

There is a small crew of softhearted individuals (my sister Karen among them) that takes these abandoned dogs from the pound before the date of "execution" arrives, and makes valiant attempts to find responsible homes for them. Little Rooty here is one of the lucky ones; he's in his halfway house now and waiting to be adopted. And isn't he a cutie?

Trip to My Lu, My Darling

Luanne's house at Rocky Lake.

Along the drive north, I saw wondrous things of all kinds to put on the webpage. However, I was due to meet Luanne at quitting time in The Pas, where she works, so there was no time to dawdle. I promised myself that on the way home I'd meander and stop whenever something caught my fancy.

After not seeing Luanne for 15 years, it was pretty great to clap eyes on her. She looks better than ever. I swear, girls, you're all just getting more beautiful each year. (Can that be?)

Apparently I kept Luanne from working from dawn till sunset all weekend, as she normally does when she's home instead of hanging out at her beau's part of the time. All we two lazy asses did was chop and puree her ripe garden tomatoes to freeze for winter soups, go for a six-km walk and bring in her wood supply for the next two weeks. (In the photo that's an axe in her hand. I was in charge of the wheelbarrow.) She also baked bread; she makes the best bread. But I fixed the clasp on her cookie jar! See, I at least tried to keep up with her. It was a lazy weekend for both of us.

The drive up was nearly an hour longer than it should have been because I missed a corner twice. Yeah, after that I got out my map. (Don't say a word, Janie.) Contrary to expectation, the highway was not lined with dark evergreens alone. The tamaracks were in full autumn colours, and that was good enough for me. Their gorgeous orange brightened things up.

To get to Lu's I'd taken the Swan River route, which is pretty much straight south of The Pas, and so on the way home on Monday I decided to cut east toward Hudson Bay instead. There is a long, long stretch with hardly anything in the way of buildings or people to be seen, but I did notice this little graveyard next to the highway and stopped to stretch my legs. There were at least four people buried there, and at least two of them had been army privates.

I also saw a healthy-looking coyote in the ditch, two bald eagles and a golden (I think) eagle. Of course, I didn't get photos of them. They move too fast.


Here's another moose standing next to a driveway.







And this sign just strikes me funny.

Trea Gracelyn Enters the Scene

My great-niece Trea Gracelyn, four days old. (pronounced Traya)

Wouldn't wake up for me, and I didn't want to disturb her. I'll get my chance.

This is Karen and Dick's first granddaughter.


***

I stopped to see Grandma both on my way to The Pas and on the way home. When I was leaving her room yesterday , she said "What's your name again?" First time she's said that, except in a dream I had a few years ago when she'd asked "Who are you?"

Every time I've gone to the nursing home lately she's been snoozing on top of her bed. Morning, afternoon, early evening, it's all the same. Doesn't sit up while you visit with her, but says she's feeling fine and all's well. Does look that way, though her face seemed noticeably round last time.

***

The debate is on about whether to get the H1N1 vaccine. The population of this country seems to be split about 50-50 between who's planning to get the shot and who is not.

***

Look out Lu, here I come!

The lips that dazzle babies.

I've been working "ahead" most every evening this week, banking hours so that tomorrow and Monday can be travelling days of about five hours each. Tonight will be another late night. In the morning I'm headed up to The Pas to see my young friend Luanne, whom I haven't laid eyes upon for some 15 years. Maybe there will be time to look up some of my Engdahl cousins while I'm there.

The road north is not my favourite; as soon as the evergreens start crowding the highway, the scenery bores me -- because there is none. The spruces block the view. I must remember to stop at the library this afternoon after Willis and I do our palliative care visiting, and pick up some talking books to keep me awake while driving through the tunnel of trees.

Scott and I spent last night here at GGFarm, since -- woo hoo! -- he's got everything working as it ought. Actually when I arrived after having supper with the boys at the old place, he was already here, lying in bed. He'd slipped on a roof while shingling in the afternoon and caught himself by falling on his left hand. The jar had put his neck out and he was moving like a decrepit old man. I gave him a Vita-flex treatment and he felt better this morning. Still wish he'd quit shingling. I hate thinking of him either up on roofs or down in holes, which he's also been frequenting since sewer problems began around here. The idea of it gives me the heebie-jeebies.

Time to head for town. We've got sleety rain and it's damn cold. I'll be glad to visit at the hospital and nursing home, where they keep the heat cranked up.

x's and o's

MacLean and McLean

The National steel guitar on the left was built in 1929; the one on the right in 1932.

Doc MacLean and Big Dave McLean managed to fill that little wood-lined church with their two powerful voices, sans sound system.

The pews were full. Halfway through the concert, Bev S., seated next to me, said, "Now I know why I hated church so much." Her ass, along with everyone else's, wasn't happy. Note to self: next time, bring cushion.

The Margo contingent even made an appearance. I sat next to Emil in the second row and when he saw Cuzzin O come in with his wife, he said loudly "Mom— Mom— there's Oscar and Barb!"

That was only the beginning of an evening where Emil made his presence known to all. Always a pleasure for Scott and me, who prefer to remain slightly less noticed at a public gathering.

"That's a Good Song!" Emil calls out at the end of a tune.
I was chuckling about this until recalling that at the last concert we attended, Paschall and Dahl, it was me who called out those exact same words. Oy. Where oh where does he get it?

Granted, there were only a dozen people in attendance that time. That's my excuse.

***

Today is the day of the week that households in our R.M. can drop off household garbage at the truck in Kuroki, so I made myself a double cup of tea for the road and headed down the grid, which is soggy with melted snow. There were a couple pretty soupy spots till I got to the highway, so I came home the other way. A round trip of about 40 minutes. (Karen, I thought of phoning you to meet me for a quick drink at the El Kuroki, but Everett's been looking forward to using the wireless so much that I didn't want to delay.)(Any baby yet?)

The weatherfolk are predicting temperatures of 14 and 16 degrees this weekend, which seems hard to believe when the air's hovering around 0C.

Wireless internet was connected up two weeks ago so it was well past time to get the computer to GGFarm and use it. After the schoolbus dropped the boys off at home, Everett and I packed up the iMac and lugged it over here. I'd dusted down the new desk (Hi Grace) earlier today, so we set things up and Everett sat down to check out one of his favourite sites, Red Vs Blue. I gave him an hour to websurf, while I soaked and scraped gummed paper lining from the bathroom wall, where the previous owner had applied a decorative wallpaper border. Got it about half off before it was my turn to come and play with this thing.

But I'm sitting on a stacking stool. Not good. Today, the computer. Tomorrow, the chair!