Dream House No More

To walk to either corner of our road and back doesn't give me quite the brisk 45 minutes the doctor ordered, so I usually go a few minutes beyond and then turn around. For a change I crossed the correction line and strolled down a long driveway that takes you to an old farmyard where no one lives anymore.

The barn is starting to sag a little in disrepair and the farmhouse is disappearing behind trees.

Maggie Polito, you may be envious to hear that a couple years ago when Shelly came out to see me, she looked longingly at this old house and yard with an eye to purchasing it for herself as a summer retreat. I would have loved that, but advised her to hang onto her cash and park her camper in my yard (or move herself into our house if she likes) instead. It'd be a lot less expensive and besides, the old farmhouse is no longer livable. I think raccoons have taken over the inside.

When she comes to visit she still keeps her eyes peeled for little farmyards she can make her own, though. That Alberta girl must have some Saskatchewan blood in her somewhere, calling to her "Come home, come home!"


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Family members on the Bartley side may be interested in the photos I sat up late last night posting to the page "Aunt Alma's Yukon." See above. I will get in there and clean the page up eventually and add more of her pictures.

Meanwhile it's back to work for this old girl for a couple more hours before heading to town to pick Emil up for the weekend. Everett, in Edmonton with his dad, turns 19 tomorrow so Emil and I will purchase a cake and eat it for him. Least we can do.

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And furthermore ... one reason I really enjoy my job ... is that in the course of a working day I often come across things like this:
A clip from Wild Life, the newest short from Amanda Forbis and Wendy Tilby.