Another Big Job Done and Dusted

Taking off the old shingles

Putting on the new ones

Babette and Baby C

First-time mother Babette gives unnamed Baby C a tongue bath. Orange sibling Carsten seen behind.

I am running out of C-names here. Need three more for three little blacks.

Heh. I'm not looking that hard. But —

Thought I'd post a quick photo before getting back to work.

Plain Old Livin'

On an evening walk this week; that's a neighbours' farmyard about two miles across the fields

Unfortunately it no longer looks so peaceful and warm outside. Scott turned the furnace on before going out this afternoon, and I'm about to bundle up real good to make sure the kittens have enough food on the tractor shed floor. There is plenty on a table but every morning I refill the two dishes on the floor for them, and haven't seen them climb up on the table yet. Time to put it all on the floor anyway, as the dogs never manage to make their way in there. (Anyone need cats or kittens? Plenty to share.)

My morning was spent in bed with a migraine, but a phone call roused me just before noon so I got up to see if the day could be salvaged. And it has. After going outside and coming in half-frozen and probably soaked, a nice soothing bath to warm up my old bones should be just what the doctor orders.

Now what the heck was I going to tell you? There was something on my mind, but it's vanished. Hmph.

Oh yes, last night's supper at Grandma Viv's café in Archerwill. We ordered quickly and off the daily specials board because Scott was starving by the time we arrived, about 8:30, and needed to order immediately, so I didn't hold things up; I asked for fish and chips (pronounced excellent by my sidekick, who usually eats half my meals) because it looked like the smallest thing on the three-item chalkboard list. Fish and chips all taste pretty much the same to me, though, so I ate only half of the rather large piece they served. Scott ordered a combo of dried ribs, chicken wings and Caesar salad. It was a heaping plate of well-spiced grub, so he was happy, and I taste-tested it all and agreed it passed muster. We brought some of it home as a midnight snack.

I wish I'd remembered to check out the actual menu though, to see if it's worth going a second time; as it is, an hour-and-ten-minute round trip and driving home after dark with a snoring man beside me means their menu will have to offer something splentastic before I'll want to do it again. However, they've built a pleasant atmosphere and Mr Fussy says the food is good, so when locals are looking for someplace different to go for a meal, it's a suitable option.

In other news, I am trying to identify the water bird that sounds like a cackling witch out on the slough west of the yard, at night. I went to All About Birds and listened to the sounds made my our habitual dwellers: northern shovellers, American coots (we call them mudhens) and blue-winged teals. No success. I know it isn't the sora's springtime call, but maybe later in the season? Must go try that one although I have my doubts.

*** Yep, I was right. It's not the sora. But listen to the sora anyway by clicking here.
Is that not a lovely call? We hear it all night here, in the spring.

Hm. Must find the answer. I may have to sneak up on dem boids with night-vision binoculars and rubber boots!

The Last Weekend in August

Calendula petals are used to make face cream; not that I've made any.

Readers of Joanne's letters from Out Margo Way are wondering where her entries are. She's gone AWOL!

I saw her the other day when Scott needed a ride to Canora for a chiropractic treatment. He limped up the clinic sidewalk and I went and found Joanne's room in the hospital. Her laptop hasn't been working there and I haven't received entries she's sent via smartphone. 

She was getting packed up for a move to the community lodge. 

So, with luck, technology will work for her over there and we'll soon be updated on "the life of Jo Bo."

Back here at Golden Grain Farm, it's cooler indoors than out. You have to go outside to warm up. The sky's turning a weird smoky colour and rain is forecast. 

Emil decided to stay at the group home this weekend ("I think I'll watch my Such-and-Such video. There's no point in keeping them if I'm not going to watch them!"). Scott's got a couple social functions lined up for the weekend, and I'm leaning toward taking a little jaunt northward to a new restaurant for supper. 

Why So Standoffish?

There are still some very young birds paddling anxiously away as I pass by. It seems late in the season for them to be so small, but what do I  know? Although ducks and crows are already flocking up in preparation for their flights south, and I fancy a chickadee the other day suggested it was time to fill the feeders with niger seed.

Fishing Lake

Emil managed to wangle the promise of a boat ride out of my cousin Oscar, and after some back-and-forthing we finally got a time organized and met at the lake last night.

Of course Emil had to be in the co-pilot's seat.
He enjoyed every moment of that long, speedy ride around the lake. I wasn't quick enough to get a picture of him with his arms raised over his head to feel the wind -- that would've been a good one.
He kept requesting that Oscar drive faster.

There was a glowing sunset and by the time we got back to the dock in front of Barb and Oscar's cabin the light had pretty much gone.

Previous entries mentioning Oscar:
Jan. 5, 2011
Jan. 6, 2011
Feb. 11, 2012

Harvest Begins

One of our neighbours is combining peas. This was my view as I walked north toward our driveway last night. We've had such gorgeous evenings lately.

I'm spending every possible moment outside.

What can I say.

Seen in Saskatchewan

On my walk yesterday

Parked at the Wadena Museum

Goldenrod

All over the roadsides is goldenrod, another useful plant

It seems we are now at the top of that slippery slope that slides into fall.
The air dipped to 5C overnight. A freeze cannot be far behind.
There have been predictions of warm temperatures for the weekend though, so we can hope for a reprieve. After all, it is only the middle of August. Surely the weather gods wouldn't be so cruel as to cut summer off at the thighs. With a hacksaw.

Once again the wheels of gainful employment are back in motion here in my office. Life returns to "normal," which means setting the stove timer to go off after each office hour so that I have to get up to turn it off, thus getting some blood to my ass.

The sun is shining, and that's the main thing. Everett caught a ride with his uncle back to Edmonton, so the house is all mine during the day again. Scott has just been in to make a brunch of fried eggs and toast after spending the morning tending to farm business. As far as I know. Who can keep track of that whirlwind?

Coltsfoot

Coltsfoot?

If so, it's another medicinal plant growing in the moist roadsides here.

Summer's Day

Can you walk around your front yard singing at the top of your lungs,

"Oh what a beautiful morning!
O what a beautiful day!
 I've got a beautiful feeeeeee ling 
Everything's going my way ayyyyyyy ...

All the cattle are  -- "

But you get the idea.

An Oven-y Kind of Day

Not drying a ton of wild herbs and flowers this year. Above, just yarrow, pineapple weed and giant hyssop, all of which I will use for teas.

I am able to prevail upon Everett to do the dishes once, most days, and he likes to do them while listening to podcasts of a CBC radio program, Wiretap. He will happily do anything I request if he is within earshot of this show.

Today Ducky Doodle awakened me at 4 a.m. to let him out on "business," and I stood waiting for him as the cold wind blew. Of course I crawled back into bed immediately; can't meander about the yard in The Most Lovely and Soft Green Housecoat in that kind of weather. Now, in the late morning, we've had thunder and hard rain and one short power outage so far.

Yesterday at 5 a.m. when the brat asked to be let out, it was so gorgeous out there I didn't want to come in, but foolishly hadn't grabbed my housecoat so had to. But the air was mild and soft, mist hung above the dugout seen from the back step and over the slough in the distance, and the birds had begun fairly laidback morning chirpings. These are among the moments that I feel absolutely blessed to live where I do; and there are many.

Perhaps the early morning hours are just as refreshing from the balcony of a city highrise. I expect so.

Well, no slowcooker plugged in to the outside of the house today. We shall use the oven in creation of culinary delights -- or maybe just plodding dull things like beef roasts, which keep Scott fueled up.

Walkin' with my Bay-bee

One perk of having Everett home is that sometimes he'll come walking with me. How quickly those two miles fly by, then!

Asters in the Wild

Smooth Aster is in bloom along the roadsides.

"The Cree called these plants mistahisak-wiwask and used the root in their traditional medicine for toothache. The whole plant was used to strengthen the mother after giving birth." - The Standing People, by Keane &Howarth

Laurel Gets Hitched

Laurel and Brett cutting their wedding cake

While Everett is home from Edmonton I haven't wanted to be away; there are not going to be many more summers when he will come and hang out with his mother for a month. This is probably the last one. Not that he "hangs out" with me; hell no (except for instigating a Lord of the Rings movie marathon over the past three nights), — my "constant" singing apparently drives him batty. But he's around and I'm loving it.

Anyway, I stayed here and Scott drove up with his brother and niece to his sister Laurel's wedding, which took place Friday in the back yard of their house at Denare Beach.

And a fine time was had by all, as you may surmise from the photo above.

Looks like the long drive back took its toll on Scott though; he turned up here at midnight with a bum leg, likely sciatica.

Some Cats

Dark areas are reeds, or cattails, in sloughs in the field in places there haven't been any in recent memory.

Some cats are aggressive. On the other farm there was a female calico that would attack the cows if they came into the stall where the cat was. She'd beat up the other cats on the place too. She wasn't well liked by the family for those reasons. She was crazy, was the verdict.

Here, we've a calico female, one of last year's batch, that I have seen act crazy like that.

And when I came from Shelly's I brought a female cat that needed a new home. She is blue-eyed and will broaden the gene pool around the place, which can't hurt, but ... she is crazy too. This morning she made Ducky Doodle cry, run away, and hide. When Jenna Doodle wandered to a sheltered corner of the house where she (Lacy) has been sleeping, she ran from me in order to chase the dog away, viciously. She did it a couple more times when the dog came into my vicinity. Poor dog isn't sure what to think! I told her to go ahead and bite the cat's ass if it pleases her. Damn cat has it coming. She attacked two adult cats because they horned in on her petting moments with me, and when I gently pushed her away from them with my shoe, she bit it.

She is starving for attention and affection, and I'm happy to give it to her, but not exclusively! Crazy cat.

One of our neighbours used to have a garage cat that would attack visitors' legs and claw them up. Eventually one of them visited with a rifle and put a stop to that bullshit. This morning this particular visitor and his gun crossed my mind, particularly since Lacy also wraps herself so aggressively around your feet as you walk that you can't move without tripping or stepping on her — and then she gets mad and bites you.

Many's the time I've been glad there is no rifle about the place, as I have had the implacable urge to put a stop to an animal's pain-in-the-ass-ness and if there was an instrument handy ... I might have done it. And then regretted it bigtime.

Now you are getting a glimpse of my no-nonsense nature. Part of my nature, I should say. Other parts can be pushed right over. I think.

The C Batch and a Home Search

This is Charlotte.

This year's kittens (so far six) have all been given names that start with C so I have half a chance of remembering their ages in the future:

Charlotte
Cameron Diaz
Cookie
Clementine
Cara
Clover

Is there anything more amusing than watching kittens play? And play? And play? And play?

Also, my friends are looking for a new home for their seven-year-old male cat, due to an allergy that has reared its ugly head for one of the homeowners. Henry Richards (must pronounce with French accent: onREE reeSHAR) is an indoor cat that likes to go outside in the small town of Kelvington but might get lost in a bigger place, so they hope to relocate him to a farmhouse or another village. However, all offers will be considered possibilities.

Are you a cat lover who lives around here, perchance, and needs a feline companion? Henry is a real sweetie that will love you to pieces. He is a well-behaved gentleman.

Flowerbed Today

By the way, have you noticed I added a page about tea?
Tea is not only tasty. It's used as a tonic and a medicine. I've been picking certain wildflowers to add to my afternoon brews. CLICK HERE or on link in sidebar to see The Treasure That Is Tea.

About The Place

I put Everett and a little gal from Kelvington to work for two hours.

Everett helped me bring over my collage from the old house and tack it up in the hallway.

Did I already show you these two trees that went down behind our house, in the windstorm several weeks ago?

Streamlining the Clothes Horse

My friend Shelly is always passing along helpful ideas.
 As per  her suggestion, the other day I sorted through my closet, made stacks of clothing to give away, and kept the rest. I put the keepers back on the rod with the hangers reversed from my usual way. As I wear them, I'll replace them on a hanger but turn the hanger around so that a year from now, it will be clear that the clothing on a hanger still facing the "wrong" direction hasn't been worn. Not taken off the hanger for a year? Out it goes.

Next, to go through my chest of drawers. And the stack of clothing on the shelf above these hangers. Out with the old, in with the new, I say! How many items have I kept over the years because I "might" wear them someday? Too many.

Walkin with Ms Kate

Everett came with me for an evening walk last night and had the camera in his pocket. In the clouds I saw a big bad wolf doing a one-armed pushup.

The large flower bed in our front yard when I went out in my housecoat this morning:

Note the use to which I am putting two garage-sale 10-cent bargains. I can't bear to throw away a flower with a broken stem, so I used copper wire to hang these funny little vases in the oak trees:

A Stormy Sky in July

Taken from my back step

Perhaps you would like to follow me along the aromatherapy path? As soon as I find it, that is.

CLICK HERE to see my new page about the way scents affect us.

What I've Accomplished Today

Fertilized flowers with Miracle Gro, using a watering can. Don't ask how many trips to the rain barrell I made.

Wild blanketflower in ditch along road, photo to confirm earlier identification for Ms Shelly

Super hot out, so the slowcooker, plugged in outside, is making meatloaf stew for supper. By the way, our siding has arrived at the lumber yard. One of these days ....

Took this photo, Still Life With Tractor: where my flowerbed used to be. Now septic tank, strawberries and dirt

But out front, the flowerbed is getting pretty. Still no photos worth posting though. I put on my bathing suit a few hours ago and told Emil we should run through the sprinkler this afternoon. He was up for it!

Since I'm Embarrassing My Family Members

When Gord (my ex) came to Shelly's to pick Emil up, he gave him two tickets to the Neil Young concert in Saskatoon in Nov

Everett about to put his whole wheat bread into the oven

Last weekend we visited my sis Karen, who served us saskatoon pie. Here she is sending one home with Michelle, her daughter-in-law

My Bro the Big Bad Biker

Cameroni Bumboni (a.k.a. Uncle Bum) prepares to mount his trusty steed.

We met on an outdoor patio for drinks one hot afternoon while I was with Shelly. Emil and his dad joined us.

And he's off!

Wildflower Identification for Shelly

Prairie Coneflower

Man, it is difficult to get to the computer these days.

I haven't worked all month, and don't miss it. Why— how did I ever find the time? I wonder.

Wild Sunflower

And Shelly, they're no longer blooming along my road, but it looks like the ones we were calling blanketflowers really were blanketflowers; it "literally blankets the environment when it is left to live peacefully undisturbed" (from The Standing People, by Kahlee Keane and Dave Howarth). So if yours "take...."

In other news, the magical cure for waking up with a migrainy neck is:

• Eat two bran muffins
• Go outside and deadhead your peonies, nicotiana and calendula
• Walk to the end of the driveway and see that the flowers out there aren't dry
• Begin the brewing of two cups of Kicking Horse Grizzly Claw coffee
• Water your flowerbeds with the handheld hose, even though the forecast is for rain today
• Write out a cheque for a man on the west coast who will send an ignition part for a motorbike, which you will ship to Scott's cousin in England when it arrives
• Carry your mug of coffee with you to your inlaws' who will put the cheque into the mail this morning when they go to town
• Sip it while pulling weeds and chatting with your mother-in-law in her garden

Voila!! No prescription drugs required!

The last thing one feels like doing is any of the above; I am a wuss, I just want to crawl into bed until it's over. And sometimes, the above actions don't do the trick. But this morning they did. Woo hoo! I love it when that happens.

Summer Days are Long and Hot

Ryan and his Uncle Scott tackle the basement

That was Monday and again Wednesday; me, I didn't get much done this week besides weeding the flowerbed, giving it a good soaking — we've had horridly hot and humid weather — and one night we watched funnel clouds forming just north of our yard. Quite the thing. Tornados were seen and at least one touched down just a few miles from us.

I've just returned from my first 45-minute walk in several weeks; the soles of my feet aren't happy.

Time to take Emil to town so this is me, waving ....

The Ashes

Dale's ashes have been put inside the pillar of this sundial, which Shelly set up in a raised flowerbed near a small pond overlooking their yard. While I was there she bought some round exposed-aggregate stones to make a path and a big square one to set the pillar on; the memorial is in progress and not yet complete, but I love this way of symbolically and literally keeping him close to the family.

Their kids chose the engraving:

Floaters

Shelly & Kate on the water

Every time someone said "floaters" I couldn't help thinking of the ones you might spot in the toilet. Sorry, it's just me.

Got home Sunday night after two weeks of togetherness, the longest we've been in each other's constant company for more than 25 years. It was a lovely time, in spite of the reason for it, and I miss her already. She went back to work on Monday.

Here, Scott kept my flowers alive through the intense heat and, though they're weedy, I'm glad he didn't tackle that part of the job because surely he'd've pulled up something he shouldn't have. He trimmed up every tree in the yard, he says, so must've been on a roll. 

I was out in my housecoat this morning, weeding with a mug of coffee in one hand, but had to come in when the mosquitoes noticed me. At the moment Scott and his nephew Ryan, here from Calgary, are in the basement tackling the plumbing; there will be no water or sewer for much of the day. Before they turned the water off I ran a bowlful for washing hands and another for washing fruit and vegetables. Hope making lunch for the fellas won't be too much of a challenge.

There is still a lot to do here to deal with the water seeping into the basement and foundation. While I was away, Scott and his crew knocked out walls and hauled up wet and mouldy material to help dry out the basement, but the house still smelled musty when I first walked through the door. Probably one doesn't notice it so much when here all the time. It can't be healthy, and fixing it is a huge and costly job. 

From Out Edmonton Way

It's early morning, relatively, and Shelly's run into the city to pick up one of her daughters. We are going to float on the Pembina River today for a couple hours -- a new experience for both Shelly and me, though her daughters Becky and Sarah went on the weekend and say it was FABULOUS. We've had scorching hot weather and today promises to be just as intense. We're packing up sunscreen, an umbrella, hats, water ... and of course a lifejacket for me, who will take no chances even though the water for much of the way is only waist-deep. I can barely dogpaddle and haven't done so for a hundred years.

We have been pretty much constant companions since I arrived the day before Dale's funeral on Wednesday. It was a bit of an ordeal, as they often are, especially when a Catholic priest is officiating and ignoring the family's request to keep the service short and sweet. I think I may hate Catholic priests. Who do they think they are? Oh, messengers from God. I forgot. Pfft. This one may have managed to put me off churches of all denominations, forever. Not that I wasn't put off already.

There has been pretty much constant coming and going here at the house, mixed in with a few slow and quiet times. Shelly has been going through the motions required after a death -- phone calls, paperwork, restructuring of everyday arrangements -- and her family, and Dale's, and their friends, have all been checking in regularly and doing everything they can to support her and the kids. It's been quite impressive, not to mention heartwarming. The three kids themselves, ranging in age from 20 to 24, are looking out for each other and their mom; it's tough on them all, but they are displaying incredible strength. I don't need to worry about any of them not being okay, though naturally the coming year will be hard on them.

After a week here, it still doesn't seem real that Dale has gone from us. It feels as if he is present sometimes. His ashes have been put into a pillar topped with a beautiful sundial and engraved with "Dad" and it is standing out in a flowerbed. Yesterday I bought a rose bush that will be planted next to it, in his memory.

I had best get my ass in gear and get ready, if I don't want to be left behind.

A Job in Town

Cement Work on a Hot Day

Rick pitches in to help on his day off

Staking, Weeding, Watering, Packing, Leaving

I'm off to a funeral and Emil's off to his dad's for a two-week holiday.

This Year's Kittenfish

I moved a batch of 4 kittens from the brooderhouse (green) into the tractor shed (red) on a day when it was super hot.

There, I introduced them to their older, orange cousins. The two mothers (who are last year's sisters) took an instant liking to their nieces and nephews, and it's been one big happy family ever since.

Bit of a free-for-all at the milk trough

Storm Time

We've had quite a storm here. The wind was scary. I should have had my delphiniums staked. There was no power most of the day; I turned my pages toward windows and sat reading. The night before, it was candlelight reading; we had no electricity for about three hours.

Today I'm gearing up for the 7- or 8-hr drive to Shelly's place north of Edmonton. Yesterday it seemed that since an old friend had died, it was fine to take the day off and move somewhat zombie-like about the house. I couldn't finish up computer work before leaving, or do laundry and pack my bags, anyway, without power. I sure as sam hill couldn't go out and prepare my garden for a week without me. The wind howled and rattled the house all day and half the night. We lost two tall spruces directly outside our bedroom window; hate to see that. There was a row of 17.

At my inlaws' down the road there is much more damage; trees down all over the place.
At the lake, a new two-story house Scott has worked on for many months had part of its roof torn off.
Boats and docks are swamped and smashed.

Today the sun is shining and people are out cleaning up their yards.

So I'm getting ready, but seem to be moving slowly. I've work to wrap up before I go, and need to tie up some flowers, run through with my trusty stirrup hoe, and call Shelly again this afternoon to see how she's faring. Her phone's ringing off the hook, friends and family are coming and going, bringing food and helping her go through the motions. I want to be with her, but know she is being looked after and may even not have had much opportunity to be alone yet. It's hard to know what to do and when, or even to rely on her to tell me what she needs, because she hasn't been here before, either. I am just going, as soon as I'm ready and she' s ready for me.

Many fond memories of Dale have been coming. It is Shelly who has been like a sister for almost 35 years, but Dale mattered too. He was always good to me, except maybe that one time at a dance when, mad at Shelly for something and at me for supposedly colluding with her (I was innocent and didn't know what the hell he was carrying on about), he hurled my shoes from the entry to the black field beyond the parking lot one muddy night and I had to be carried to the car when this was discovered at my leave-taking. It's funny, now. Happily for me, my memories of Dale are pleasant ones.