Warm Weather is Coming ... I Promise

A photo of my garden at Golden Grain Farm last summer, for the upliftment of my friends in Alberta who are suffering cold and snow.

It's pretty chilly here today, too. I have no desire to go out.

Still No Green

Aside from the sky and the blue reflected in the sloughs, everything is in brown and gold tones.

I don't mind one bit. Warm days are right around the corner. My walks are short in this weather—a half-hour at most— because the wind is cold. Even a winter coat and something on the head don't make for a pleasant stroll, unless you can get out of the wind. I have not taken my ski pants off the hanger for several weeks, so none of you can laugh at me. But I have considered them.

The boys and I have finished supper—whole wheat spaghetti, homemade marinara sauce, and some kind of pork that was thawed in the fridge so I figured I'd fry it up for Scott. He and I have a half-baked plan to take a drive into to town tonight. A little date, if he ever gets home (it's 7:30 now). He Who Must Not Be Mentioned failed to make sure his bag of clothing was in the vehicle when the boys left Edmonton with their dad, and so it was shipped on the bus on Friday and arrived this morning. Someone has been wearing the same pair of pants for the past six days. Bet there will be a lot of double-checking next time, before they leave the city.

I was under the weather with a neck-migraine yesterday so wasn't able to go to Kelvington and see Grandma. Must reschedule; and meanwhile, try to catch her in her room, by phone. Wish me luck with that one. Miss Out-and-About doesn't stay home too much. This is desirable, of course; she's busy, just the way she likes it.

***
"A mythical half-man, half-animal called Tyi Wara is honored annually on this date with songs and dance by farmers in the African republic of Mali. It is believed among the Bambara tribe of that region that Tyi Wara was sent down to Earth by the gods of nature in order to teach human beings the necessary skills of farming." - Original Source Unknown

Bread for Supper

It works best when the bread comes out of the oven right at supper time.

Scott's nephew had been here playing games in the basement with He Who Must Not Be Mentioned, so the two of them fueled up.

I made a Greek salad to eat with the hot buttered bread, and that was fine for me. Emil sounded disappointed that that was all there is.

Heck though, there are another half-dozen loaves, and a person has to save space for the apple pie.

The book on the table is a biography of painter Georgia O'Keeffe, who was quite the gal.


This photo is only here for the benefit of the reader who is toasting in 9o degrees. We don't actually have this much snow left anymore but doesn't it cool you off just looking at it?


***
Any small children in your life? Read them Peter Rabbit and Jumper the Hare Have An Adventure, by Thornton W. Burgess. No wonder kids loved these stories.

April Snows

I will miss the view from the driveway here, as it is a beckoning one. Even when it's snowing, as it is tonight.
This has got to be winter's last blast.

It's Karen's birthday today, for those of you who know my little sister. Now 48, she's looking damn good—gorgeous, even. She and Dick met me in town for lunch and then we did a quick bit of shopping. I came home with a plastic beetle that looks something like a lady bug, only it's bigger than my hand, for $2.50. It will be going into the garden. My heinous plan is not to tell He Who Must Not Be Mentioned on My Blog (age 16) about it and see how he reacts when it's first spotted.

As soon as I got home though, my neck started acting up. What could be the cause? MSG in the Chinese food? The O Henry bar I ate for dessert on my way home? One never knows for sure. I ended up taking a pill and sleeping for two hours. It worked though; feeling fine now, if groggy. There should be some kind of altar to make an offering at, I'm so damn thankful.

So, after this snow, that'll be it. Right? Because I'm really starting to think about finding the closest greenhouse and spending all my spare cash on blue flax, lupins, woolly thyme, oregano, basil, and jalapeno peppers.

Thornton W Burgess's Saskatchewan Connection

When told that Thornton Burgess had named Golden Grain Farm, I did an internet search. There wasn't one place where Saskatchewan was mentioned related to Burgess, and the Thornton W Burgess Society had no record of him being to this province.

The excerpt shown here is one of three in the two-volume history book of this area, titled Remembering Times. The others are write-ups from families that have occupied the farm, and they had similar things to say about its history.

According to the people we bought the place from (Scherbatiuks), Mr Burgess used to come out in the summertime.

Along with its balconies and verandas, a notably large three-storeyed farmhouse is long gone, replaced by a cookie-cutter '70s bungalow and a dip in the front lawn where the old foundation once stood.

The House

We took possession of Golden Grain Farm in
December 2007. 

This setup at the end of the driveway was my first clue that the property had a name.

Scott and I purchased the house on its 32 acres at the beginning of 2008.
Since then, we have been renovating. To be fair, Scott has been doing all the skilled and heavy lifting. My part is more often to run errands, wash walls before he starts, clean up after him, and keep him fed.