Now can he drive 55?

I got nutthin! Just a cheery Good Morning.
Maybe I'll see you back here tonight!

I did come home at suppertime yesterday and make a cake for Scott, as it was his 55th birthday.
See recipe at Stubblejumpers Cafe.
I think he appreciated it.  He had two pieces, anyway.

To Dennis from Emil

Once upon a time, Emil told singer/songwriter Dennis Lakusta — or maybe Dennis told Emil — that he should write a song called Emil Goes to Camp Easter Seal. 

This may have been said lightheartedly but Emil takes everything literally and has never forgotten, and so every once in a while he reminds Dennis, who now lives in Nanaimo.

"I'll tell you what, Emil," Dennis replied, "Next time you go to Camp Easter Seal, send me a list of all the things you did there. Then I've got a place to start."

So this summer when Emil returned from camp, he sat down here at the computer for an hour and composed this list. I was only called upon once or twice to help with spelling a particular word; otherwise, my proofreading suggestions were firmly ignored:

Hi Dennis How are you doing ?

I had a good time at camp easter seal this year.

On saturday at camp easter seal this year I got to watch a talent show.

This year at camp easter seal I got to pet the  horse 2 times.

On the last day before I went home from camp easter seal this year I danced with lots of people.

On sunday at camp easter seal this year I  got to make cookies.

On the first day I got to camp easter seal this year I got to go out for supper at a restaurant called  the spa.

Do you ride horses?

On saturday at camp easter seal this year I got to watch cowboy movies.

Do you have a new car  yet?

On sunday at camp easter seal this year I had supper up at russ sticks.

A t camp easter seal this year when we had supper up at russ sticks we had pizza bush pies for supper,

On monday at camp easter seal this year I got to go swimming one time.

What songs do you like to sing the most?

On saturday at camp easter this year I got to watch the ruff rider game on tv.

At camp easter seal this year I watched a movie in the tv room.

If you write that new song called Emil goes to camp easter seal I would love to hear it.

On the last day before I went home from camp easter seal this year I had a final banquet and dance.

After the final banquet and dance was over then I had an after  party.

I would like to see you again sometime .At camp easter seal this year I had sports.  At camp easter seal this year I got 2 have ice cream 2 times.

In sports at camp easter seal this year I played catch.

At camp easter seal this year I got to go for a ride on a boat called a pon toon boat.

At camp easter seal this year I was in cabin 16.

At camp easter seal this year my camp counsellors said to me Emil I like you you are fun to hang out with.

Camp easter seal is a very nice place.

How often do you sing the car alarm song ?

What is year favourite food?

How often do you go out and play at concerts?

At camp easter seal we have 2 really nice stone buildings.

One time we watched a music video of you on scotts lap top.

On the first day I got to camp easter seal this year we had a camp fire before bed.

On monday moring at camp easter seal this year  we had french toast for breakfast.

                   from Emil

Poor Dennis, he's been sick in bed since last month and just wrote to explain and ask me to tell Emil to be patient. I bet you've never had such a demanding "biggest fan" before, have you, Dennis?

In other news, there is a birthday boy in the house. Well, not in the house. He's out working, and I'm heading off, myself, but leaving this on the table:

The envelope contains a booklet all about the year he was born, 1959; and a backscratcher. What more could a man ask?

Panic Attacks

Another weekend has come and gone. Man, the time goes fast, doesn't it? I guess tidying and cleaning up the house and getting on top of the dishes are just So Much Fun that time flies! At any rate I like having a couple days at home to put things back in order without rushing.

That's really all I had the energy for. I'm still coughing and even had the beginnings of a panic attack one afternoon when my chest felt heavy and constricted so that I couldn't breathe deeply or quite normally. In the moment, I did recognize it was "only" a panic attack (there was a time when I had quite a few during a short period, many years ago) and that there is only one way to cope with them and that is to "breathe through it." But at the same time, I was thinking, "Maybe this is the beginning of a heart attack. I am not ready to die. My affairs are not in order!" That's why they're called panic attacks, I guess; because you are afraid you might actually be dying.

They are scary, even when you know better.

Dining

Sunday mornin' you sure looked fine . . . .

No Go

It seems sensible to stay home, keep warm, and not spread this dastardly cold one inch further than I already have by going to work for the past four days.

I hated to do it. I'm the first one to preach that when you're sick you should stay home, for the sake of other people if not for your own healing, and to hell with everything but resting. Your health is more important than any of it.

But I understand why people go to work when they're sick. It's not so much that they need the money — at least in my case right now, it isn't — but that they're very likely part of a team and they don't want to let others down. They want to get the job done, dammit! Then they will rest.

Last night I arrived home feeling not too bad, considering the state of me in the morning. Oh sure I had some ugly coughing fits during the day, but could think straight, at least. I actually felt well enough when walking in here about 7 o'clock to tackle the dishes that were overflowing on the counter. And then I stayed up till midnight, and was still wide awake at 3:30 a.m. after lying abed for hours in the dark! Weird. Maybe too many hours of sleep the night before?

I will never understand the reasons this body does what it does. I'm just thankful it only gets migraines, cold sores, the occasional bizarre uncalled-for (as far as I'm concerned) back injury and the rare head/chest cold. Many would be glad to trade places with me if that was all they had to live with. So I count myself fortunate — at least, on the many good days. And most of them are.

So today, I rest.
There are still some dishes to do, and I've run hot water into the sink with some soap and am letting them soak. And if I get around to them, good. I like a clean kitchen. But if not, C'est la vie. They'll be there tomorrow, as the saying goes.

The  pretty blouse Joan brought, which looks silly on me because of its peculiar style, with little foldy fluffy pleats on the sides. I am probably too short for it. Next! Cara, you give it a try.  Though you're shorter yet. It's gonna look great on somebody. Maybe on someone tall? In which case, no one in our family.

Also, Cara, the packages of jujubes and lifesavers I've been carrying in my purse for your kids are probably a year old now. That is just sad.

Oh My Aches and Pains Boo Hoo

Super shitty day and night yesterday, coughing and choking and blowing nose; then a migraine came on. When I dragged myself home after work it was to take a pill and go straight to bed and stay there all night except for a short time up to eat a scrambled egg Scott made for me. Thank goodness I no longer have kids to look after, as I can barely take care of myself. 

Woke up in the middle of the night soaking wet, had to get up and change my shirt. Must've had a fever. Better this morning but neck still bothering and voice still very deep.

At least I had no problem sleeping, which as far as I am concerned is the best escape from discomfort that there is.

I'd crawl back into bed this morning, too, if I could, in spite of having been up long enough to have a bath and make a pot of coffee. But all hands are needed at the newspaper as it's production day and there is a press deadline to meet. I'll look forward to a date with my pillow later.

Someone posted this on FB and I have sent it to many of my ambitious and crafty friends for inspiration:

Down But Not Out

Feeling too shitty this morning to do anything but go back to bed. Got no voice (to speak of)(ha ha).
But off I go to the office anyway, taking a page out of Scott's book: if you're not dead, keep working.
I almost made it an entire year without a cold, though. Or maybe I actually did. All I know is that I hadn't had one since starting at the news office last year after Thanksgiving. Maybe the last cold was well before that. Anyway I was pretty pleased when all around me were coughing and sniffling and I wasn't catching anything from them. Thought maybe I'd finally found the best preventive: wash those hands, wash those hands, wash those hands.

Off I go, in the spirit of Marg Delahunty, warrior princess:

Illustration by http://joribolton.tumblr.com/post/52547065311/a-fun-spot-portrait-of-mary-walsh-as-marg

Happy Birthday to Cameroni Bumboni

It didn't freeze last night. Yay! I've got some serious snipping to do in the flowerbeds after work. Meanwhile they are all blooming brightly and beautifully. It will be a shame to see them frozen black. I'll bring in as many as I can find vases for.

Today is my little brother's birthday. I was six when he was born and apparently when he was brought home from the hospital, remarked that I'd rather have a puppy. That is really the only thing I remember being told about my reaction. Other things I've been told are that as a child in our little hometown, Cameron used to go around wearing a pink pillbox hat. And once when he was quite small he told Mom, who was working in the kitchen, "I feel mean." He was just tired, she said, and needed a nap.

So here's to you, Cameron ... may you eat pizza and beer with friends tonight!
And when I get home, I'll have a drink in your honour.

Maybe I'll even pick up a pizza at the deli counter ... if I can just remember what day it is, and that the store closes at 6 tonight.

Did you hear on CBC radio last night that they think they've finally identified Jack the Ripper, using mitochondrial DNA? They've matched his "leavings" with a relative or descendant and believe he was a schizophrenic Polish immigrant who ended up in an asylum.

This is not the first time it's been thought that Jack the Ripper was named; but it's the first time there's been DNA evidence, if I'm not mistaken.

A book has just come out. It's called Naming Jack the Ripper.
Here's more: CLICK HERE.
Don't you love it when a murder mystery is solved?
I'm still waiting for the police to catch the prick who murdered the young nurse in Saskatoon in 1962. I was three years old at the time and Mom said she used to send me to the grocery store by myself before that happened. Imagine that, in a city the size of Saskatoon? It wouldn't happen often nowadays, would it. And after that murder, Mom didn't do it again either.
See Sharon Butala's book The Girl in Saskatoon.
Butala, a Saskatchewan author, has also written my absolute favourite book: The Perfection of the Morning. Click on the book titles for links to more information.

And have a jimdikkitydandy day! I have to get my ass out the door.

Brrzy Wrrzy WooWoo

Holy moly bumboli.
Not only did I wear leggings under my jeans today, but the second time I left the office in the afternoon it was with jacket and gloves on and wishing for a tuque.
I'm regretting not getting home before dark so there would have been time to cut a nice big bunch of purple coneflowers before they freeze on the stalk. Oh well, c'est la vie, ma fille!
No regrets, really. It was cold when I got here. I scurried into the house like a little rat.

New Wheels

Somebody finally, finally, FINALLY bought himself a new work truck.
It only took him years of careful "shopping" on Kijiji.

Ducky Doodle checks out the new tires.

Same old, same old

You must get ever so tired of seeing the same landscape photos here all the time. The same road, the same trees, the same dogs. Blah blah blah.
However, that's my life. If you want something different, go to someone else's blog!
It's a pretty simple solution.
Meanwhile, welcome to my world.

2:16pm

Last night Everett came with me to pick up Emil and give him a ride to Everett’s for the weekend. When I dropped them off, Everett said, “Wait a minute. I’ve got something.”

He went in and came out a minute later, handing me a tube of Rolo chocolate candies.

“Ah!” I said. “You DO love me! It can’t be denied!”

“Don’t get too excited,” he replied. “They were on sale.”

“Still,” I insisted, “you remain my sweet boy.”

And he is. Current surly attitude aside (I see it as adding layers of protection over his sensitive nature), I know who is in there underneath it all. Mothers never forget and are difficult to fool.

3:38pm

So far I have spent the day moving stuff so the vacuum can do its work. And doing several loads of laundry. And dyeing two loads of clothing. And sorting and bagging and tying up the recycling and setting it on the step to take to Little Green (car). And heaven knows what else has kept me so busy since getting out of bed this morning. I haven’t washed the bag of soil-laden potatoes yet, as Scott requested, but I did just get them into some water to soften the caked dirt. I haven’t got the chicken into the roaster yet, but it’s on the counter now while the oven preheats. And I did phone our little Rebecca down the road and say “Wanna make 20 bucks?” so she came over and washed the bathroom and kitchen floors for us. I got her to roll up the quarters to pay herself with, as I only have a $5 bill in my wallet.

Next: it’s a sunny day and I will dress against the cool wind that is felt when the sun hides behind a cloud, and go for a walk with my doggy friends.

Rainbow Dental Therapy

About to walk out the door shortly after six o'clock, I noticed my co-worker Rita was busy doing something at the back of the room and thought I'd lend a hand so she could get home too.
She was counting, cutting and stapling raffle tickets, so I followed her lead and we had the job done after another half-hour.
She didn't want to be in the photo, so I've cropped her out, but here is the heavy-duty machine that was used to cut the tickets.

On Tuesday I visited the Rainbow Dental Therapy office in Kelvington for a checkup and cleaning. I need one small but deep filling, dammit, but enjoyed the quickest and most gentle tooth-cleaning I have ever had. Usually they are a bit of an ordeal. Not this time! If Amelia, the therapist at Rainbow, is half as adept at doing fillings as she is with cleaning teeth, my next appointment will be a breeze!

This dental therapy clinic is the only one of its kind in Saskatchewan. Amelia does her work, which is overseen and approved by a licensed dentist (naturopathic, if I read right) who comes out to the office once a month.

I couldn't be more tickled. Usually to find professionals who do this kind of work, we have to drive all over the province. And here we are with them set up just a half-hour away. Woo hoo!

Amelia also makes her own tooth-cleaning recipe that replaces toothpastes full of fluoride and other enemies of healthy teeth that are on the commercial market. I've purchased a jar of her peppermint-flavoured concoction and am liking it just fine.

Turning Over to the New Season

One morning last week there were yellowing leaves on the trees along the road.
And suddenly there were yellow leaves laying across my driveway.
It begins!
And I love it.
You go ahead and cry about the end of summer if you want to. It does seem to have gone too quickly, I'll give you that.
But fall is gorgeous. The scents, alone!

Before we know it, the giant flocks of geese will be here. The scouts have already arrived.
In my house, two of the menfolk are suffering end-of-summer colds. Scott works through his; Emil goes to bed and stays there. Hard to say which is the wiser.

Setting Sunlight

Coffee Time

What a pleasure it is to have a friend who likes to have coffee outside with me in the morning!

A bit behind on the backyard landscaping, but what can you do -- skip the morning coffee? Methinks not!

Friendship of 40 years

Company's coming! Company's coming!

Cathy will arrive from Saskatoon sometime today.

So much water in the past couple years that we now have reeds growing in the ditch outside our driveway.

Odd Coincidence

This morning I posted a recipe at Stubblejumpers Café, one that was given to me by my friend Carolyn. It’s been years since we’ve spoken on the phone and I don’t see much from her on Facebook, so before leaving for work I sent her a message just to say her recipe was up. Just a little shout-out, for fun.

 When I got home, I saw my cousin Karla’s number on the call display and rang her back. “What’s up?”

She is a lab tech assistant up north and was taking a man’s blood today when he said, You’re not from around here, are you. You remind me of someone I used to know. A girl from, where was it now ... Margo. 

By cracky. Karla is from Margo!

No kidding! What was that girl's name, now? He described her to Karla, who said “That sounds like Kathy.”

And sure as shit, he is someone Carolyn and I used to know up north and I, at least, haven’t thought of often for 30 years. And the funny thing is, he is Carolyn’s ex.  

And funnier still – no, stranger – is that he couldn’t explain what reminded him of me. It was the way Karla moves, talks ... He didn’t know why either really. The memory just came into his head, he said, as if he was quite baffled. 

That’s the first I’ve heard of anyone seeing a family resemblance between Karla and me. We are both surprised and amused. But it is kind of nice too.

I said I hope she isn’t too insulted by the comparison, considering I’m 15 or 20 years older than she is. Woot! as they say in blogland.

Evening walk

Too bad you weren't here to walk with me.

Dancing

Well, the sun is out again.
In the summer, the first thing I do is take my cup of coffee and go see if it's warm (and dry: the dew settles on the chairs) enough to sit out there and bask.
Not today. Not quite. Almost.
Were I dressed . . . it might make all the difference.

One morning last week, I literally skipped down the driveway, just happy to be here.
The child has not gone from me. Oh no, she hasn't. 

Speaking of the child, here I was at age four I think, as the flower girl for Mom's cousin Beryl. 

Beside the bride, of course.

One thing I remember from the wedding day is that I wore this thing under the skirt to make it stick out like that. And was there a hoop? Well it was pleasing to me at that age, at any rate. The fabric of the dress was silky-lovely, and I was feeling pretty fancy. Did Mom make the dress, Reta?

And at the dance, a tall man (or was everyone tall to me, then?) plucked me from someone's knee and held me in his arms, prancing away with me. I was both thrilled and terrified, and laughed so hard that I cried at the same time.

I might still do that when I'm frightfully scared in moments of danger. Fortunately it happens rarely.

The last of a set of stationery cards on my bookshelf.

Furnace in August

Yesterday it was 67F in the hallway. I cranked the furnace up to 72 and stayed indoors all day, except for my trip to town to visit Emil for an hour in one of his two livingrooms.

I wore my swanky new leggings (thanks Joan) under my jeans and thought, well, aren't these much slicker than long underwear! No extra bulk, and nice and warm.

Emil insisted that we sit, not in his bedroom or in the living room that was quiet, but in the one with the TV on. 

Conversation was somewhat occasional, and I was often distracted by the television, but we sat there for an hour. And then he heard the house supervisor tell someone it was time to wash up for supper. He was up and out of his chair before I could lift my chin. I don't ever doze off while sitting up, but may have rested my eyes for a moment, a break from the four splashy women chattering on the TV screen.

"WoopWoop! I guess I'd better go wash my hands! It's supper time. Thanks for coming, Mom."
And he was off, and I was of no more interest to him than a gnat.

Earlier I had stopped at the Red Apple store, needing pillowcases. Okay, not "needing." Just "wanting." 

You've heard me pontificate about "discount" or cheap-as-dirt stores, saying that everything you purchase there is sub-standard and will start falling apart in the first washing, if it gets that far. But I had two sets of brand new feather pillows that needed pillowcases —Where have all the pillowcases gone? I guess they don't last forever, and the house elf hid ours for our own good — and there is no place else in town to buy them— or is there? shoulda held off till a weekday and checked the hardware store— and I didn't want to wait till I get to the city because heaven knows when that will happen.

And then, given my druthers, fabric containing polyester is avoided. But that's more when it comes to clothing, because the fabric doesn't breathe; perhaps it doesn't matter as much with a pillow case. Anyway, every bit of bedding at the Red Apple had polyester in it. I threw up my hands and grabbed two sets of pillowcases that were available without matching sheets, thinking at least these will keep the pillows clean till I find some better quality sheet-sets in my travels.

I washed and dried the pillowcases after arriving home and sure enough, while slipping them over the pillows, found a one-inch tear in the seam of one of them. 

And sure I could package them back up and exchange them for a new set, but screw it: it would take less time to stitch up the hole myself (and that's saying something, because I'm all thumbs with a needle after not touching one for perhaps years) than to stand at the counter while they fill out the paperwork. 

This frilly thing is far from my favourite type of poppy, but I'm partial to anything in the red colour spectrum. 

I really must go spend a weekend with Shirley, my industrious gardening, quilting aunt who lives in Margo, and finish the quilt Mom and I started during the year from heaven/hell, her last. Nine years ago. Lordy!
Hell because Mom was dying and that just friggin kills anyone who loves her. Heaven because it was nine months living in the same city with her and my sisters. We spent lots of time together, and not just ordinary time— though there was lots of that— but precious time because for those months we were all wide awake.