Jacks of All Trades

Above, Nathan Phillips Square in downtown Toronto is filled with chalk messages in memory of Jack Layton, a man who died too soon.

Below, Jack Duckworth, longtime native of Coronation Street, leaves this mortal coil via a slow waltz with the spirit of his late wife Vera.

Here Comes Fall

My back yard.

You do not want to know me today. Cranky? Lord t'underin' Jaysus. Might just have to go buy a chocolate bar. That, or hit myself over the head with a hammer. A good brisk walk didn't help. Getting the dishes done didn't do the trick. Bah, humbug.

From Everett's "baby book." Click to enlarge.

He's off and running, into his new life. I sent him on the bus to his dad's yesterday morning with an undramatic farewell at the depot, and had turned away before actually feeling the jarring finality of it: the fact that he won't be home in a month.

This morning I pulled out his "baby book" (some kids have baby books, my kids have bulging binders) and have been reading through it, chuckling, remembering, and shedding a few tears.

Lord, this kid has been a lot of fun to raise and dammit, I AM going to miss having him around.

Sparrows and a Spaceship Cloud

Bath time in Foam Lake, Sask

One evening in August, she walked north.

Check out my tarot card for today: click here.
I am going to put my hair in curlers. Not!

Coming and Going

At Middle Lake, Sask

Next to Highway #5: a Rest Room for the Ladies

Here in Saskatchewan we go out of our way for travellers.

Open 24 hours!

And speaking of strange sights around the province, Trent Deerhorn has posted a photo of what appears to be an extra-terrestrial east of Saskatoon. Lookee here: click. You'll look twice, for sure.

Don't forget to check out the list of links at the bottom of my webpage here. There's some fun and interesting stuff to be found.

And He Could Play and Sing, Too.

Half 'n' Half

We never get tired of the ever-changing sky.

Kittenfish

Beatrix and Birdie.

“Motivation gets you started. Habit keeps you going.” – something like that, Flylady.com

Grimacing through the video Shine Your Sink, an ode to clean kitchens as if they bring with them a host of angels that will help you get to the apparent heaven of a perfect house and orderly life.


And yet, this house is my domain. It’s where I want to be. I want it comfortable, orderly, clean, pleasant. And one must start with the basics, not? And the basics are – food and shelter. Dammit.


***
Everett's message:
Don't dig up.

Crapola

Junk left between two granaries

It wouldn't hurt to get a truck in here, fill it with old crap and take it to the dump.

Will I ever get around to it? Will Scott?

My guess is: no.

Message from Everett:
Clean up your own messes.

When the Day Breaks

Walk with Me

I often drop off my jacket early on.

Occasionally it's just a casual stroll through the old farmyard across the road.

Half the time I head north

That grain elevator is six miles away; see it? Click to enlarge.

My entourage precedes me as we return to the yard

Hot Summer Times

Scott and his brother Bruce bale behind the house

It's super hot and those poor b_sta_ds are out there working in it.

Bruce flexes his muscles in the evening shade

Cathy has just left; thank goodness for air conditioning in vehicles. Here in the house it remains cool enough for now. The slow cooker's been on the go since noon so we won't wholly escape the heat. With luck things will cool down tonight and we can open up all the windows and let the night air waft through.

Cathy heads back to the city

We had a relaxed time of it. Drove Emil to and from town a couple times so he could visit with Cathy here but sleep in his room at the group home. Swapped a tarot card reading for a massage that put me in tiptop shape — sigh ... wonderful. Had company on yesterday's walk, gotta love that. Drank coffee in the mornings, pear cider in the evenings, tea in the afternoons. Need to do this more often.

One enchanted evening

I'm visiting with my friend Cathy, and all you get is this lousy picture!

Maggie's Bargain Shop Panties Hang Out

Maggie with her Bargain Shop Panties

Haven't heard the song yet? Watch the music video here: http://www.littlemisshiggins.com.

I've already pointed you to Maggie's blog, right? If I haven't, here it is: Serendipity Doo-Dah.
Maggie and I have known each other since we were young crones.
I mean, crows:

Guess I should speak for myself

Since we hung out in airports and handed out flowers while chanting and dancing.
Bwa Ha Ha Ha!!!!!!!!
Those were the days weren't they my friend?
You laugh -- I recently found out this was a rumour about me around the area.
Too funny.
Maggie and I met when we did a volunteer tour with Katimavik, a youth program sponsored by the federal government.
We share fond memories and good friends.

Hoe-Down Ready

It’s been to Marc and Michelle's wedding and, three weeks later, the piano is home again! It needs a good dusting after riding in the back of a truck, but that didn’t stop me from sitting right down and playing the four songs I have learned. They are simple, with sparse chords, but my fingers remember what to do even when my eyes are frantically lost among the notes I’m reading.

When I slip up, I curse loudly (according to Everett, but what does he know? He doesn’t notice that I also whoop with the pure joy of it); well hey, at age 52, I should be able to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star without screwing up! The other three selections in my beginner's repertoire? Silent Night, Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory, and Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes. Not too impressive, nor do I care. I am having fun. And here’s the amazing part: I can’t sing and play guitar at the same time, but piano? I can chord, play the melody, and sing harmony! How can this be? I don’t know, but it feels good.

Now that the piano's back, I'm ready for the talented people to show up and party. I've got Mom's accordion, and a harmonica, and my bass guitar. Enough to fit everyone up with an instrument and have a kitchen hoe-down.

So far this fairy seems to be keeping the cats out of the flower pot.

********

You can help starving people -- yes, you can! -- by clicking on this link for The Hunger Site. It takes you to a page where you make one click and voila, more than a cup of food is donated to those who are in such great need right now. You can do it once a day, so bookmark the link and make it a habit. Every little bit helps.

The Babyest. The Babe. Babeski. Chuk. Nugget.

This is my little sister, Joan. Isn't she cute? Always was, too, right from the first day I saw her. She was a smiley, happy baby as I recall. I was nine when they brought her home from the hospital, and very excited, though disappointed that Mom and Dad —or as she called them, Dum and Mad — didn't listen to me and name her Suzie. Doesn't she look like a Suzie?

She's not a frequent blogger (perhaps that could change if you all go to her site and leave a comment, and for god's sake send something for her photo challenge so she'll stop whining! this week she's asking for your photo of something you can't live without), but when she does post an entry, it's always a good one. In her most recent effort she talks about feeling as if she had a charmed life up until Mom got sick. I can relate to that; when shit happens, suddenly it's brought home, real hard, just how vulnerable we and all our loved ones are. And how if we're smart we'll make the best of the time we have, right now. (October, Joan. I plan to visit you in two months! and maybe this time I'll actually make it.) We all know this, but seem to need to be reminded constantly.

Her husband, who is really still just a baby at age 47, had a heart attack a short while ago, and while he is one of the luckiest men on earth (my sister married him, didn't she? damn right), it's been a shock, an eye-opener, and a hell of a scare for him, for them, and for all of us. Fortunately our Gary has come through with flying colours and now we can all live happily ever after. Amen.

Big Wind

This little guy stood in one place long enough for me to get a picture. Quite unusual for them to do, and it's the only one I've seen around here. It's about the size of a robin, and there's nothing in my Birds of Saskatchewan book that looks exactly like it, but my guess is that it's a sandpiper of some sort.

In other news, this is our second windier-than-usual day:

And now one of the yearling cats accompanies me and the dogs on our walk:

He kept up for the entire 2.7 kilometres, too.

And then he and his sister make me curse and grit my teeth when I step out onto the deck and find them curled up together in a flower pot. Right on top of a steel dragonfly I have put there to deter them. They don't seem to notice it.

Wasted Mornings

Ol' reliable daylily

Loud thunder woke both Scott and me at 4 a.m. Rain poured down so loudly I thought it must be hail. But my flowers don’t seem damaged today. I took only a quick tour though, as the wind is cold.

Both yesterday morning and this one have been "lost" ones, in that I've been visited by the trusty old migraine and had to take a pill and go back to bed till early afternoon. I have a job that permits me to work around this condition; I know I'm very lucky. And thank god the pills work, given a few hours. Before they came my way, I'd spend the entire day crying and puking while trying to escape the pain by sleeping, which was very difficult to do. Usually I'd have to keep one eye open to make sure the boys were okay, too; fortunately they weren't the kind of small children who get up to no good when left to their own devices.

Also, for the past few months, I haven't had six or eight migraines each month. I've had only three each month. That is a significant improvement that I seem to recall also occurred last summer. Oh well. Shrug. I've never figured this thing out yet, and maybe never will. 

Emil Has Two Favourite Neils

Last weekend we stopped downtown on the way to take Emil back to his place. On the street we saw this fellow, who is one of Emil's favourite people. He doesn't live at the same house as my laddie, but he either comes for meals or drops in to visit fairly often, and he works at the same place.

The lad didn't want to come home this weekend. There was no particular reason to stay there on his days off, he said, but he can, so he will. This is a sign that he is happy there, and that makes me happy. All six residents of his house were taken to the farmers' market on Saturday; maybe he knew that was on the agenda. It would be enough. He loves to go anyplace that he can walk around; if there's food, more's the better.

Next weekend Cathy is coming — yay, Cathy!! — so the spare room will be hers, and Emil, because he doesn't want to sleep on the couch or out in the camper, will likely ask me to bring him out for the day but take him back to town to sleep.

*** New blog alert:
Click here to read Trinkets and Tales.
It's my friend Joanne P's webpage. I've also linked to it in my list of Saskatchewan favourites at the bottom of this page.
Leave her a comment; it will encourage her to continue and I will enjoy that.
And it's all about me, right?
And speaking of Joannes, it sounds like Joanne Bohl ran into a pretty nasty hailstorm on her way home from the city: click here for her description.

*****
I've been catching up on Daniel MacIvor's "Notebook," and his picture on June 6 has spurred me onto posting this one I took yesterday afternoon when Ducky discovered me lying out in the swing under the crabapple tree, the lilacs (watching for what I think was an adult catbird feeding its young one; you only get glimpses through the leaves, they rarely let you see them) and the spruces:

Why, just go ahead and make yourself at home, Ducky.

Go read Daniel MacIvor's biography at the Canadian Encyclopedia. He is one of Canada'a best and most successful playwrights.

Evening Paradise

The ravine
Is blue and green
Or so she thought.

Look down.
Golden yellow and brown.
White.

We rode our bikes there last night, me and the Shnev.
Sigh. I love summer.