Too Nice Out to Sit in Here

The porch, repository of homeless stuff; remember the basement is a flood zone

At the Festa Campetre in Italy, they know how to have a good time

The little dog laughed to see such sport

Can't Make a Move Quite Yet

In the hallway I finally tacked up this set of wall hangings Mom made; I could not find one arrangement that was appealing to my eye, but at least they're up.

It'll be a while before I can do anything about flowers. But that doesn't mean I haven't started dreaming. And purchased seed packets for sunflowers, bachelor's buttons, wildflowers and sweetpeas.

Will be reducing the size of my existing flower garden this year, for several reasons: 1) it takes me three hours a day to keep it weeded to my satisfaction. I like being out there, but that's too much, particularly when it rains and I can't do it, but the weeds still grow; 2) the garden is clay, with only a couple inches of topsoil; I've added to the topsoil, but really my flowers deserve better; and 3) the garden area needs to be built up and angled to keep water draining away from the house, so we're going to do that and plant grass instead.

This means a lot of digging again this year as I move dozens of perennials to new locations. Can hardly wait.

Still lots of snow; Everett is out shovelling it away from the south side of the house right now. Water's started coming into the basement, as expected. Scott broke out more of the concrete floor with a mallet last night, to make a place to put a different pump or something. He tells me what he's doing but might as well tell a bowl of cold oatmeal about this stuff. I'm just grateful he knows what to do, and does it.

Back to work. Maybe when office hours are over (I work 10 to 2:30, with a five-minute break every hour to get away from the computer and move blood into my legs, and a half-hour for lunch; don't you wish you had my job?), Everett and I will take a drive into town. He needs the practice and Emil needs his rubber boots to walk in the puddles on the way home from work; my library book is overdue and though it's doubtful I'll whiz through the rest of it before we go, I still tell myself I'll return it today, though I won't if it's not done. I'd rather pay the fine; a good book is worth it. Note: The Best Laid Plans for good reason won the Canada Reads competition this year. Recommend.

The Basement Slog

Old sweetie Casper Doodle accompanies me to check out perennials frozen in pots and still buried in snow.

   So far today I’ve done most of the dishes (plugged pipes require emptying a basin of dirty water into toilet, several times when you're washing two days' worth) while listening to Colin James and the Little Big Band (to listen, scroll down), and am taking a break to let my fingers unwrinkle.
   It is 11 a.m. and I need to eat breakfast. Scott is making space in the quonset for some things from the basement, so he can break up concrete floor down there and change some plumbing in hopes of solving this teeth-grinding problem. He has phoned his cousin Kurt the Intrepid Photographer to help carry things from the basement, and I’ve rousted Everett from his bed so he will be ready when called upon.
   My plans for this afternoon were to work about 3 hours on a website project, and get my tax numbers pulled together to deliver to my friendly neighbourhood accountant tomorrow morning while Everett is getting his road test. Since Scott announced this morning that today’s the day to slog out the basement, I'll need to be helping instead.
   Had I had a day's warning I would have made sure to get the project hours in yesterday, instead of lazing about as I did. And oh it made for a fine day.
   There are a projected 15 hours or so to be done by next weekend, and since these things often take longer than expected, a week may not be enough. I’ll work on the computer tonight, I guess. It’s not the best time but since I won’t be in this chair all day, maybe it’ll be fine. Usually I'm not the brightest "prose medic" (my colleague's term) by the end of the day, and prefer to work earlier, when I'm sharper and my body complains less.




Everett has posted a new video to his page. Some of you are old enough to remember playing this game:
click here.

Joanne Bohl has sent a note too:
click here.

Old Lamps

This pair of lamps belonged to my grandparents, and if I'm not mistaken (correct me if I'm wrong, Reta) they came from Great-Grandma Bartley's house. Or not. Maybe they came from Great-Grandma Benson's. (Reta! Reta! Help me out here.) The white shade on the lamp below looks like something Grandpa picked up at an auction, and my sister Karen insists that the shade in the top photo is also not original, although it looks to me like it was meant for the globe beneath it.

My questions to you are these:
1.) What would you buy to give them a matching pair of new shades?
and
2.) What do you think the shades they came with were like?
and
3.) Have you seen lamps like these?

Last of the Snow Days

might just be the last snow pic this year ... if you're lucky

Lately, the air is mild and sweet to walk in, and there's even water on the road in places, but there is also so much ice that it is hazardous. I'm afraid to slip and fall, and turn back sooner than usual.
Yesterday, four Canada geese flew in formation low over the farmyard. One had a big chunk out of its right wing. And I heard crows. And the snow is snowball-fit. I'm enjoying this, the slow melt before the pump in the basement starts up again after its three-month respite from running every half-hour. The cats are courting each other out by the barn; a female lounges on the ground, rolls, stretches all sexy before the two interested males following her. Last week a bald eagle flew across the road while we were on our way to town.
Debbie Psovsky, I dreamed about you last night. You gave me a roll of nickels and asked for my advice on your writing. I woke up before having the chance to say Just Pick Up A Pen!
God, I love dreams. They're so goofy. But nice to see you, Deb! Also I need to call your mom. She agreed to make perogies for me every month, but I've had no space in my freezers for quite a while, and still don't. But I am missing those delicious potato dumplings.
On top of the chickens, beef and pork the two deep freezes are full of, it's time to stock up on homemade bread (since summer baking often warms the house too much). I don't know how we'll make space. Last week cheddar and mozzarella were on sale really cheap, and it's a staple around here, so we bought a shitload, grated it in the food processor, measured it into one-cup bags, and stuffed the freezer. These are really handy. Yesterday Everett made a double batch of baked beans; today we'll measure them into baggies and freeze those. Probably need to buy another deep freeze. Or start eating more. It's dangerous to open the freezer door these days, for fear of what may come tumbling out.

Since the weekend I'm feeling normal again, mostly, except for this powerful desire to sleep for a couple hours every afternoon. That is not me, or never has been, but this week it is, so I'm listening to my body and its request for rest. I lie in the lovely green bedroom, which delights me. After five years in a low-light basement bedroom, this cheery warm sunny room is a perfect heaven and a little arrow of appreciation goes out to Scott for it each time I fall gratefully onto the bed. Perhaps I don't really sleep, but maybe I doze a little throughout the time snuggled into my feather pillow. I thank my lucky stars for working conditions that allow me to do this; so much flexibility.

Seventy Today

Mom, with needle and thread

Hard to believe that Mom would have turned 70 today.
In this photo she's wearing some blouse I picked up at a garage sale for her. I realize now that she probably only put it on because I was coming over; normally she didn't wear large patterns or bold colours.
I'm still feeling like shit after two days without eating or being able to keep even water down till late last night, when a few crackers stayed the course. Today I'm on the mend, about to try some poached eggs and hoping my head will unfuzz. Has to; I'm getting right tired of this.
With luck, I'll put in my usual working day and then dig out my copy of Chicago, a favourite of Mom's, or Delovely, the last film we watched together, and imagine she's with me for the annual viewing.

Alive but not Kicking too Hard

Elementary schoolkids' bonspiel

Having a couple crappy days due to the neck thing, so Thursday was the last time I was out and around. Here are the photos to prove I DO leave the farm.

In family news, my cousin Heather has had a baby girl.

And now, back to doing nothing much. Darn it.

sign between buildings on main street

Leetle Mexican Chihuahua

Ducky loves the sun here in the office

Just sitting down to work an hour or two before driving to town to meet Karen for lunch. She is in Wadena helping out at the curling rink this morning, with a friend's kids.
We’ve got another sunny day and according to the local paper we are having a slow melt this spring, which is what we need if we hope to avoid the worst flooding.

And the chime, it is a-changin' ...

Only one collision since the chime went up; and no casualties.

Now playing:
http://ckua.streamon.fm/

Haven’t worked much yet today. Neckache slowed me down to fuzzy heaviness, took pill and laid down, still not pushing myself. It’s okay, I have all day and the evening, don’t have to apply pressure.
Sun shining, lovely in the house, Everett baking oatmeal bread (I've got the butter dish out in anticipation), radio on throughout the morning: Liz Taylor died, Saskatchewan budget announced, Libyan fighting, Japanese disaster.

-------------------------------------------
note:
no sooner did I give the chime report, then a bird slammed into the window *directly behind* the damn thing and left a smear of feathers on the glass. it wasn't on the snow anymore when everett went out, thank goodness. so: the chime has helped, but hasn't stopped all the craziness.

Soon there will be no more snow photos; I promise.

Relax, people ... relax! Spring will arrive soon enough, and along with it wet basements and washed-out roads. I can wait.

✿⊱╮

Everett came into the office yesterday and said “You know how you come and hug me sometimes, saying that you read that a minimum of four a day are necessary for health? Well, I haven’t hugged you for about two years. Would you like one?”

✿⊱╮

Mmmm... potato pancakes. Greasy but oh so fine and crispy.
We're having them with turnips & veggies au gratin. A gourmet feast, I tell you. Weird combination, but some days that's just the way she goes.

✿⊱╮

Films watched lately for a second time: About a Boy and Driving Miss Daisy.
I'm sure you've all seen them so I don't have to tell you much, but two things stood out.
In the first, a young boy sees his mother’s spirit in a park, and then discovers her unconscious after she has attempted suicide. His "sighting" isn't alluded to again; perhaps such things are common but rarely discussed.
In Driving Miss Daisy they play audio excerpts of a famous Martin Luther King speech, where he says it's not only the people who do bad things who will be judged, but also those who are apathetic and do/say nothing when they are aware of injustice. How many of us fit that bill? It made me consider the things I don't take on.

✿⊱╮

Thank you Ms KitchenKate for the perdy flowers I have stolen (er, copied) from you.

✿⊱╮

And finally, this comes via my friendly neighbourhood hairdresser, Janice:

 The driving manual says the average driver's reaction time is .75 seconds ...Or 1 car length for every 10 mph...Test your average reaction time. Be very careful; this can be addictive. Click on the link below and good luck.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/science/humanbody/sleep/sheep/reaction_version5.swf

Family Resemblances

Caroline Engene

This is my great-grandmother (for those who know my family, this is Grandpa Benson's mother).
My sister Karen is the SPITTING IMAGE of this woman, who died long before I was born.
It is strange for me to see this picture, which pops up on my computer regularly (because it's in my desktop images folder), where the person looks so familiar and yet is dressed and wearing her hair in a way that naturally I've never seen my sister gussied up. And what's with that hairdo? Is her hair cut short on top and curled? Weird. Though kind of cute on Caroline, who may have been about 20 years old in this photo.
When I see such a strong resemblance among family members, I can't help wondering if they share other traits. Did Grandpa's mother have the same angelic singing voice as Karen does? Why not — the genes are so similar (right?) that the vocal chords would be too (right?).
Well I don't know, but I can't help wondering if this lady would have had the powerful right arm Karen had when she played ball. She wouldn't have played ball, but she probably churned butter, milked cows, carried water, did laundry by hand. And that's not all. What about the non-physical characteristics. Like, did she love animals like Karen does? Was she an excellent cook? Was she active in her community?
Two memories regarding Caroline Engene have been relayed to me. That my own mom as a child didn't like buttermilk, but would drink it when she visited her grandmother because "I'd drink anything she gave me, I loved her so much." And my aunt Reta remembers relatives saying that her grandparents were hard workers and took pride in the barns they built.

Helpful Hints

How many times is she going to make us look at that damn barn?

Some good stuff:
•Drink rosemary tea to alleviate melancholy or depression.
•Eating lettuce with your dinner is supposed to be calming, helping you to sleep and have pleasant dreams. Some say you should not have vinegar with your lettuce.
•Trying to remain relaxed but alert? Some studies suggest that the smell of apples, apple cider vinegar, or spiced apples have this effect. The right smell can make all the difference.
•Dill will lull cranky babies to sleep. Add dill infusion to the bath, sprinkle on a baby's blanket, or use as a hair rinse.
•Sage is considered a "ghost medicine," used to prevent nightmares. Strew it on the floor or in the bed.
Compliments of http://www.almanac.com/.

This Made ME Laugh Out Loud; You?

One more reason to love Roger Ebert, who posted the clipping above in his online journal.
Here's his webpage at the Chicago Sun-Times:
http://blogs.suntimes.com/ebert/

Porcupine Tracks

click to enlarge

There was a big fat porcupine slowly making its way across the field when I saw these tracks (not mine, which are on the right) on the road, where it had likely crossed.

This doesn't look exactly like the track pattern in my trusty little manual, but ... I still think these might be porky tracks.

There were four dogs with me, and the one that loves to run actually listened to me when I told her (she was the only one who appeared to notice the porky) not to chase the porcupine. Maybe she remembers the time I had to pull quills out of her nose.

***

Does anyone here watch Californication? The other night the Duchovny character shit on the hood of his ex-wife's fiancé's car. Okay, I'm down with that (meaning, not that I endorse it, but it didn't kill me that someone in a tv show did it). But they actually showed the turd as he was dropping it! That was more than I could take; I was gagging and had to look away. Today I gagged violently while telling Everett about it. He thinks my discomfort is hilarious, laughed heartily and said, "That show really goes all the way, doesn't it?"

It goes too far for my liking. In the same episode they showed the guy throwing up. At length. Like, I don't need that, series director. Damn near threw up, myself, when he did it; I do not need to see people horking on TV, particularly when they show the actual spewage. For a long time. More than once. Blech.

Still Here

You'll be starting to wonder whether we've dropped off the face of the earth.
Nope. The snow's been melting for the past couple days, but the house hasn't floated over the edge. Yet.
The sump pump in the basement hasn't started running every 20 minutes, as it did until Christmas.
And the fridge is clean.
Thanks Everett!

Not much to tell. Been watching and listening to the media coverage of the hell that is Japan right now, and Libya. Made my donation online to the Red Cross. Now just to keep my fingers crossed, because although I often send up prayers out of some sort of instinct (or maybe it's early childhood training), I have no faith in them making a damn bit of difference, whatsoever.

I've been working here in the office, and going for walks in the fine weather, and that's about it. Just the usual putzing, otherwise. Last week I picked up those S-hooks I mentioned and Everett got up on a stepladder and hung a large chime from the eavestrough in front of the picture window. For the previous week about four birds a day had been slamming into that window and flying off, wobbily, to a nearby oak branch. Since the chime went up, there hasn't been one crash. Maybe this chime will continue to do the trick where all else has failed.

One afternoon a half-dozen redpolls were perched on it, right near the window, peering in. Bonus!

Snow is removed from the roof above our bedroom

I was sitting alone in the Good Luck Diner one afternoon and looking out the window saw the head of a man getting out of his vehicle and thought “Dad!” and my heart gave a happy little leap till I remembered he’s in BC.

Yesterday we had a blue sky and glittering snow, today the sky is grey and the air is mild and still. My walks were glorious. I saw a porcupine yesterday, and a white-tailed deer today; both at some distance, but I was thrilled like a little kid anyway. You'd think I never see these creatures or something, but the truth is that the deer are plentiful. I hear they're digging into the farm's hay-bale supply lately; let's hope spring comes soon.

Patiently waiting for spring

Watch the video on Schmutzie's webpage today. It's a talk by a brain scientist who had a stroke. Fascinating.

Joanne's posted an entry today:
http://goldengrainfarm.blogspot.com/p/out-margo-way_21.html

Off to Town

Second cut. Scott figures his skills are improving.

He even gave Emil a nice mohawk but Emil insisted he didn't want to keep it.

The sun is shining — woo hoo! — and Everett and I are off to town. Since we were there yesterday (he has completed his driving instruction and can soon go for his road test; this could be a good thing, and then again not, for if I have a driver to send off on his own to do my bidding, I might never leave the yard) and picked up groceries, today will be a lazier one than usual, with fewer things to do.

We've found a supplier of fresh farm eggs and today will meet the seller in front of the library to exchange dollars for cartons. I'm thrilled about that, particularly after being reminded of the horrors of factory chicken and egg farms.

And it's a library day. Nothing I've ordered has come in, but I'll still come home with a stack of books.

As for news, not much. Aunt Shirley called this morning looking for a ride to her accountant's in Foam Lake, as my cousin is using her vehicle after getting into an accident with his own. So one of these afternoons I'll be heading south.

Grandma is doing well. She's feeling good and even cracking jokes, I hear. Gotta get up there one day soon.

And, since it's International Woman's Day, here are a few facts you might not be aware of:

A Night Out

Through Fishing Lake First Nation on the way to Foam Lake

Where Scott went into the store for something

And we met Karen and Annella at the bar for steak night

Ancient Cambodia

My friend Cathy is travelling for several months in Asia and at present is seeing the sights with her brother. He is blogging, so go have a look-see.

Here it is:
click here.


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At our house, I've just washed dishes and put a cabbage casserole into the oven for supper. Everett is drying the last of the dishes, and Scott is trimming Emil's beard and mustache. I spent the morning writing letters and need to get busy at an extra project I'm helping with at work. And ... it's time for tea and birdwatching and a walk and the tibetan rites and ... probably a long list of things I "should" do and likely won't ....

On the agenda for tonight is the movie Dinner with Shmucks. Everett plans to make popcorn; if I'm on the ball I'll spend an hour on my quilt while in front of the TV. But I'm not on the ball. Sorry; I've given up on that ideal and am just glad to still be breathing, healthy, warm, clean and happy. I'll never be Superwoman.

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And you?
What are you busy at?
"Curious minds want to know."

Even If You Think You Don't Care for Opera

After this, you'll understand why so many do.

Birds Gear Up for Spring Courtship

So many birds! There are dozens at the feeders at any given time, now ... redpolls, chickadees, woodpeckers and even a couple house sparrows ... but it seems like there are more than there have been all winter. Also, they have started whacking into the picture window again. This is a sign of spring, I've heard, because they are ramping up into dating season, showing off for each other and not paying attention to where they're flying.

S-hooks, here I come! Nothing we've tried so far, to make the birds notice they are approaching glass and not trees, has done the trick. Pretty things attached by putty, hanging in front of the window, don't stay put; nor do the stained-glass hangings we tried. They fall on the ground and break or get run over by the lawnmower. I haven't found those shiny strips of reflective material that scare birds off; don't know where to get them, but experience to date shows that the wind blows foil balls hung on string up and into the eavestroughs, thus blocking the rain runoff. There's a net you can hang in front of the window, but that will be a last resort. First, I'm going to hang chimes and such from S-hooks fastened onto the eavestroughs. Scott doesn't want me to, fearing they will mark up the nice new eavestroughs. But: on one side, the safety of birds; on the other, pristine-looking eavestroughs. Sorry Scott.

Joan and Karen's Quilts

Joan's quilt

You asked to see my sisters' quilts, so here they are. I've been trolling through the old blog (Who does she think she is, Anaïs Nin?) and there they were. Joan, you've got yours finished, right?
Karen made the kind that didn't require quilting, so hers was done in a jiffy. This photo doesn't do it justice, but it's flannel and has these ruffly things between the squares; really nice:

Karen's quilt

Boys about the House

What's he so delighted about?

Little shit.
He jumped out at me when I came through a door, and I shrieked.
He's quite pleased with himself.

Now here, we have Scott working on a sliver in his finger last night after a long hard day:

Note: the television remotes are never out of reach when he sits down in the living room.

Patience

One of these days ....

One Year Since

"Aaaaaaaaah, it's all bullshit anyway...."

Uncle Bruce with my cousin Heather's fella, Lionel, and Scott at the family reunion we had in the summer of 2009.
How many different ways are there to say Holy Shit, It's Been a Year Already?
So I won't.
Instead I'll just point new readers back to Uncle Bruce's obituary.

Kittens and Cutting

Alice

Last summer we had one female cat here on the farm, and she had one litter of kittens out in the barn. They weren't found until Everett came back from his dad's, and by then they were a good size, but he tamed all five of them and now they come right up to the house, prance around the dogs, and sit under my birdfeeders with their whiskers twitching.

Alice is the spitting image of the wild tomcat that I first spotted in the garden before we moved over here. He had an entire saddle of matted fur on his back and you couldn't get near him. This winter he's been in the tractor shed with the cat herd, but makes himself scarce the minute you go in there. He seems to think that if he hides, you won't know he's there.

The kittens were all given names that start with an A, so in the years to come we might be able to remember how old they are. Besides Alice, there's Ace, black as a spade in the card deck, and Ash, a grey tabby. Don't ask me what happened to the other two kittens; something got them, obviously. That's the life of a barn cat. They have total freedom, but with it comes the danger of coyotes and foxes and heaven knows what else.

We should have several litters of kittens around here this spring.



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To make this page download quickly for family members still using dialup, I've changed the settings so that only one entry shows on each page. Alas, now my lists of favourite blogs extend far beneath the end of the one entry, most days. And this bugs me.

I've been trying to ignore it, but that can only go on so long. I know myself; eventually I'll slash and burn, and that list will be drastically shortened. Which I will hate, because how can I pick and choose? I love all the blogs that are listed there.

Even the one written by someone I can hardly stand. (No, it's not you. The writer of that blog is far too self-absorbed ever to read someone else's.) That's right, I read the blog of someone I am sure would make my teeth ache were we to meet in person. I like the photos and the extensive text about a life that seems to be well lived, though the writer has obviously never received the kick in the ass that might have improved the personality. The writer is condescending, arrogant ...

Well enough about that. How often do you hear me say something "bad" about anybody? It's a slippery slope I'd best stay away from.
Needless to say, I'll have no problem deleting the link to that blog.

Anyway, if the link to your blog disappears (has disappeared; I started deleting links right after saving this entry) from that list, now you know the reason why. And also, that I have probably signed up to "Follow" your blog so that I will be notified of your new entries in another way, though it's less convenient for me to keep up with your exciting life via the Follow feature.

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Aunt Reta sent this video about peeling potatoes:
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=7375897927147969009#
It stars the actress who played Maryanne on Gilligan's Island.

How Things Were Done

little cardboard card

This little announcement card was among Aunt Jean's photo albums that are in my care. I don't know who this Mr Walker was, only that my great-great grandmother was born a Walker and came out West from Ontario. (Reta? Got any info?)

If you click on the bottom card it will enlarge to a readable size. Note how it calls the card an "intimation" instead of an "invitation." You don't hear that nowadays and I wonder if it was common usage in 1930.

inside the card

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Just saw this— its part of Benjamin Franklin's letter to a young man, advising him to get married but, should he insist upon remaining single, then to at least have the good sense to get involved with older women. He gives a number of reasons; here's the best:

5. Because in every Animal that walks upright, the Deficiency of the Fluids that fill the Muscles appears first in the highest Part: The Face first grows lank and wrinkled; then the Neck; then the Breast and Arms; the lower Parts continuing to the last as plump as ever: So that covering all above with a Basket, and regarding only what is below the Girdle, it is impossible of two Women to know an old from a young one. And as in the dark all Cats are grey, the Pleasure of corporal Enjoyment with an old Woman is at least equal, and frequently superior, every Knack being by Practice capable of Improvement.

I don't know whether to laugh or cry ...
Read it all, here, at Letters of Note.

Winter Can Be Magical, I Tell You

you can see the sparkles, can't you? click to enlarge

Even if it is damn cold.
Even the air is full of sparkles! But the photo doesn't show those.

Maddie

Maddie.  14 inches high
Hand dyed cotton body
Jointed shoulders, elbows, knees and hips.
Mohair hair
Water colour painted face.  Eyes and lips are spot varnished.
New cotton top
Jeans made from recycled denim
Purse made from recycled leather coat
Not shown - matching moccasins made from recycled leather coat.

See yesterday's entry for Jo Ann's contact info, to purchase. $175.


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It must be hard to part with them, eh, Jo Ann?

Jo Ann's Dolls

Grace

Grace is one of my friend Jo Ann Lauder's latest doll creations. Here's a little information about her:
• 14 inches high
• Hand dyed cotton body
• Jointed shoulders, elbows, knees and hips.
• Mohair hair
• Water colour painted face.  Eyes and lips are spot varnished.
• Swarovski crystal necklace
• Dress made from recycled Indian silk scarf
• Not shown - lace slip, panties, black leather flats and clutch purse.

She is for sale for $175 and Jo can be reached at (306) 522-8461 or email her at jlauder AT accesscomm DOT ca.

I'll put photos of the other dolls up as I get time. I have never been a doll collector, but I covet these and think I'm going to start saving up for one. Around Christmas Jo brought out the Frida Kahlo doll she'd made for Cathy B, and I fell in love with it. 

Belle Plaine, and Theo Jansen’s Strandbeests

We went to the Good Luck Diner on Main Street last night for a Chinese food smorg followed by a show sponsored by Shadow House Concerts. Keyboards, standup bass and jazz singer with a gorgeous voice ... they really belonged in a different setting ... a darkened room, without the rattle and clank of cleanup being done in the kitchen.
The singer, originally a local gal from Rose Valley, picked up her guitar once in a while to croon a country tune, which particularly pleased the bluehairs. Her stage name is Belle Plaine and the only disappointment was that she had no CD for sale. I'll be keeping an eye out for that.

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You have got to see these!



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I sneezed once, after laying my head on the pillow last night, and woke up this morning with swollen eyes. What the — ? Who knows? Maybe I'm allergic to something in the chop suey.

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In one of my blog lists — this one under "Around the Planet" — you'll find Owen's blog (Owee58) as he travels around Vietnam. In the most recent entry is his sister, my friend Cathy. Looks like she's enjoying herself.

Happy Happy Horses

I followed up on the horses' new home and got this email, which warms the cockles o' me heart:

Hi Kathy
They are doing fine, getting more and more friendly everyday.  I am going to make the cream colored one my horse, I plan to work with her in the next month, I have named her Meria. The volunteers named the two older mares Mabel and Molly and the grey gelding Dusty and the young gelding Dante.  Dusty already has 2 sponsors (he is so friendly).  We are really enjoying them, they were the life of the rescue on the weekend, everyone was so excited to see them (lol).  Please stop by for a visit if you are in the city,   Take care and say Hi to Scott, tell your father in law they will be well looked after.  Take care.
Bunnie and Lawrence
Have a nice day and Happy Trails

Paradise Stable Horse Rescue.

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Here's an article about the horse-meat industry:

Western Producer article: Canada’s Dirty Little Secret

At the Corner

they watch us

hm...which way to go...

"runnin' like a white-ass deer" (in a joni mitchell song)

to the safety of the bush

My Date with the Dentist

click to enlarge

Heaven-knows a flat-roofed house isn't a very good plan when you live in Saskatchewan, but yesterday as we drove around the streets of Wynyard after my appointment with the dentist, this homeowner's solution stood out. He built a proper roof over top, so the snow will slide off and the summer rain won't pool and his roof won't collapse from the weight.

Very sensible. Looks silly, but isn't. What's silly is to build flat-topped houses anywhere there are several feet of snow every winter. You do see quite a few of them, strangely enough.

And hey. I was nervous as hell about having those wisdom teeth pulled. Even though the roots were straight and it should be a straightforward extraction, I feared the time in the chair and the consequent swelling. Yet lo, the dentist decided only one tooth really needed to go, and had me in and out of that chair in half an hour, and the only painkillers I took were over-the-counter Advil afterward — and I'm not even sure those were necessary, I just took them to be on the safe side.

Isn't it great when an anticipated ordeal turns out not to be one? I never had one moment of discomfort, except maybe for the sensation of the dentist twisting the tooth to get it out— and that was only pressure and sound, that's all.
The dentist pronounced that he'd have had me out of the chair even quicker if my mouth was larger; he has small hands, he said, and still had to figure out how to work inside my not-gaping maw.
"If your husband or kids ever try to tell you you have a big mouth, I'll be here to tell them otherwise," he said.

P-Harmony

Save You for Last

I could watch someone draw, all day!

Hilary Grist is one of the gals who came out and did a house concert for us in the fall.

Women for Women International

A letter came from Women for Women, informing me that Naomi, the young woman my monthly donations have been sponsoring in the Democratic Republic of Congo, is finished the program and another lady has been registered.

Sifeta, in the second photo, lives in Bosnia and was born the same year as me, 1959.

Naomi is the same age as Emil, 22, and is raising three of her own children and a nephew. I'm looking forward to the report detailing how the Women for Women program has helped her and her family.

And I wonder how Sifeta is pronounced.

Have you considered sponsoring a woman like yourself in another country? Except that she is a survivor of war and has witnessed and suffered violent atrocities, and cannot always successfully provide adequate food and shelter for herself and her family, she could be you.

Kazuri Beads

For Christmas my sister Joan gave me a necklace, a large bead on a thin leather strap (which I am wearing today over my favourite—and only— grey turtleneck). It had a tag “kazuri bead” on it so I did an internet search, finding this webpage: click here to peruse the pages.

Other interesting things I've come across while reading blogs:

This lady turns your child’s drawing into a piece of jewellery or a keychain:
http://www.formiadesign.com/.


Read this if you have an elderly parent:
http://athomewiththefarmerswife.blogspot.com/2010/12/thanks.html