Friday Night Report

A quick note to say hello, and goodnight. The day has gotten away on me somehow. I can't explain it. Oh yes I can. A lengthy telephone conversation with a longtime and dear friend this morning, and a batch of raisin-rye bread out of the oven in time for lunch. Work in the afternoon, and a quick trip to town earlier this evening to pick up a working teenager (Scott's nephew) from his job at the store, and while I was there, a few things from the store for the inlaws. Emil's not coming out this weekend and I'm spending tomorrow night with one of my little sisters. Something to look forward to. Considering I haven't seen her since Dec23rd and she lives only 20 minutes away; shame on me. And on her, too.

And my back is much improved. I'm still using my legs exclusively when it's necessary to squat down for things— which is every five minutes apparently — and being very careful not to bend, but to lower myself straight down and to rise straight up again. I don't dare use my back. Or can't. Who knew one needs to use the legs so much, anyway? You don't realize till something goes awry that you haven't been lifting properly all along, though you'd have sworn you were. You can sure find out in a hurry that you have been an idiot.  I'm glad the worst is over and I don't feel like an invalid half the time, like I have for the past two weeks.

Reading Old Journals, and Gerald Durrell

Lately I've been reading two things:

1) My journals from 1975, when I was in my mid teens. Oh my! Good for some belly laughs, for sure, as I lie propped up in my bed and Scott surely wonders, from the other room, what is so darn funny. Then there are some of the serious themes, like being disappointed in people, and self-exploration, that I now see were challenges even then, as they continue to be. At 15 I didn't think much of astrology or marriage as an institution, and I tried meditation for the first time. Now, some 40 years later, I have a lot more respect for astrology and even less for marriage, and I'm still meditating. As a matter of fact, the other day in a meditation my "Intellectual Self" (which appears as a character in an imagined scene) told me I have an "Irish intellect." I have no clue what that means, but it was related to my ancestry, and since there is likely some Irish back there somewhere perhaps that's the intellect gene I got? It's a mystery.

2) Gerald Durrell's book about his trip to Argentina to collect animals for a zoo. Great stuff — humorous and descriptive in an anthropomorphizing sort of way, as he describes the behaviour of elephant seals and fur seals, for instance, that he observes. Not to mention the habits of his Argentinian hosts and guides. I've also read an earlier book about growing up with his family, a wild and entertaining bunch: My Family and Other Animals. I recommend them both.

Bling for the Laundress

What would you clip the clothespins onto if you were wearing these earrings?

I equate clothespins to domestic work, so I might list one of the following chores on each of four tiny paper squares:

• sweep step

• dust bedroom

• put roast in oven

• fold clothes

You would wear these earrings on Halloween, when you go to the party dressed as a laundress.
Doesn't everyone always want to be a laundress?

I Love Snow. There, I Said It.

Spring is so just around the corner — I can feel it!

My standing-desk experiment is at an end for now. Yesterday morning I enlisted help to lift and switch the computer and printer so I can sit again to work. Otherwise I'm going to be a poor girl. I like standing, but can't do it with my back being fussy. Which SHALL SOON PASS, goddammit. Actually there is noticeable improvement. I'm just not telling you what it is. Only that after a half-hour of standing, I still crave a nap. The dishes don't get done in one go, sometimes. But they're always there when I get around to them, crusty little darlings.

So soon, all these brilliant patterns will be gone. 

I know, I know ... If I had to shovel, things would be different. 

Crank Phone

Coming up in June, there is a family reunion on my dad's mother's side and I've been sorting through the old photos to find pictures of my grandmother as a young woman.

It's a purely pleasurable (and often head-scratching) pastime, and provides me with plenty of chuckles.

I'm posting the one below (that's me on the knee of a family friend [Art Klein], who is talking with Dad) because it's got the old crank phone in it. Remember those, anyone?

Margo, our home town, was one of the last places in Saskatchewan to get dial phones, I'm sure. This pic would have been taken about 1962. And on the farm, we still had party lines till I was in my early teens.

Tracks of What

Haven't been for a walk in an entire week and am starting to miss my road. My back is on the mend though, as long as I don't ignore it. When it says so, I sit or lie down. 

Scott brought home some organic rye flour and I'm chomping at the bit to make some raisin rye bread, but am not allowing myself to. I also didn't bake on Friday; no heavy lifting for this girl ... but wait, what choice do I have? None, that's what. 

Gotta build some upper body strength, which I suppose I knew. 

And it's not really heavy lifting. Or if it is, then only for me. And children and old ladies.  

Deer bound through the snow; moose drag their feet. This must be a deer track; the imprint of its body.

Emil's getting his braces and boots on, ready to head for town so he'll be there to work in the morning.
It's a beautiful bright day so I'll enjoy the drive.

Fawn and Follower

I have just seen my friend Joanne out to the road after a fine visit of two nights, so Emil and I are on our own this afternoon. The kitchen needs attention, and the sky is blue. He would like to "go somewhere" (should've sent him with Joanne!). I would like to lie down, because my back says so.

They take turns following each other.

Julie has posted another poem:
CLICK HERE.

One Small Thing

Corey's friend survived a suicide attempt, and she has been visiting him in the hospital, where he's been for six weeks.

What do you say to your loved one? What can help? You want to say, to do, everything and anything that might possibly make a difference, but you don't know what that should be.

Corey gives her friend a small daily task that is doable, even when we don't have the energy to do anything. It's smart advice. It's a planted seed that, if nurtured just once a day, will make a difference. That seed may not grow into a magical giant beanstalk, but something will come of it. It may not in itself be a fix, or a cure, but none of us knows where it may lead.

Sometimes the treatment seems too simple.

But I can offer no better suggestion than Corey's.

Unwanted Welcome Guests

My friend called; she's on the road and my place isn't too far off her route. She doesn't want to come this way though; rather I should go to her destination to meet up. She's running late, has too much to do.

Before long she phones back, having changed her mind. She'll stop here after all and spend the night, start fresh in the morning. What's for supper? Do I have wine?

She is a welcome guest.
These guys are too, but I know I must chase them off if the cedars are to be saved.

Here we go:

Farewell You Son of Canada

If you are Canadian, nothing more need be said.

Wedding Parties

Flower Girl. My first wedding party.

Spite Houses

I'd never heard of such a thing! Leave it to The Nag to introduce me:

CLICK HERE to see 9 houses built for spite.

Meanwhile here at Golden Grain Farm I am moving slowly but otherwise comfortably after my back decided it had something of great import to tell me. It was going on strike.

I get a little behind on the dishes, and can't stand at the desk as much as I'd like, or get down the road for some cardio. Tried to walk on the weekend and thought myself fortunate not to have to crawl back home; turned around pretty damn quick.

But the afternoon sun quite often streams through the bedroom window and my back gives me the perfect reason to lie atop the quilt Mom and I made, and bask stretch those seized-up muscles.

There are a half-dozen deer coming daily to the yard now, and after dark they appear to play with the barncats. Just now - nearly 2 pm - there is a young deer, less than a year old, closely watching one of this spring's kittens that has run under a truck.

I had best tackle those dishes. It's the second time I've run dishwater for this round and then got onto something else while the water got cold.

Kathy! Bring The Camera

A few yards from our back step.

Time to mosey on I guess.

One Last Look: Moose and Morning Light (for Linde)

Do not tell this guy:

Great White Hunter

Ducky, a.k.a. Buck Duckster the Third

Ducky's into the tequila again.

"Somebody loves me" [or at least, my shoes], "I wonder who ... I wonder who ... he could be."

Doppelganger

Over at the real Stubblejumpers Cafe, or is it the unreal one? Sometimes I can't tell the difference, swear to God. Julie has posted one of her poems. I love her poems.

Go see. CLICK HERE.

Still Kickin'

You know what I do on Fridays. There is a hairnet under this cap.

Thought the dog might appreciate the opportunity to lick out the molasses container, so I cut the top half off and put it outside for her. Apparently I was right: it is a treat. I guess anything that isn't commercial dogfood must be.

Mmm...mmmolasses ...

After several visits when Jenna didn't seem to notice them, she finally barks at the deer. While wagging her tail.

Scott has put a container with some oats out, hoping it will keep them away from the cedars at the front step till he figures out a system that works.

The twins found the birdseed this morning. 

King of the Hill

Meet L'il Lexi

My grandniece is six days old.

Each time we are gifted by a new baby in our family, I think of Mom and how much she would have enjoyed this one, too.

I remember her saying the same thing about Grandpa Emil; Everett was a couple years old when Grandpa died, but was at an age where Grandpa would have found him particularly entertaining.

When Everett was but a babe I rented a lakefront cabin for a summer week and Grandpa drove out in his little truck to visit one morning.

I was gently washing Everett's face with a wet cloth and he was squealing loudly, as they do.

Grandpa: "Nobody likes getting their face washed like that."

Me, after rinsing the cloth in warm water, washing Grandpa's face with it:
"What's not to like?"

Grandpa, surprised: "I guess you're right!"

Sodium

Reprinted from Nightly Newzzz, the Sleep Apnea Newsletter www.sk.lung.ca

Mule Deer

Sweet thing. A twin born last spring. 

Right next to our living room window.

Scott has devised protections for the cedars, but they aren't complete enough.

To follow mom, or eat the cedars ... that is the question.

Big Brother sticks to the oats out in the yard today.

Looking through the windows at us.

Man, if you thought this "system" would keep us away from the cedars, consider yourself deluded.

Saskatoon Stargazer

From http://scienceblogs.com/startswithabang/2009/12/27/weekend-diversion-orion/

Someone in Saskatoon is a stargazer.

Fabulous Find

Ever seen the Eiffel Tower like this?

From The Photoblographer. CLICK HERE.

You want to see all the photos. Get going!

Thanks to Steve Crane of South Africa for the headsUp on this one.

Kathy H.

Kathy H and her son

Kathy H.'s blog is a must-read, for me.
We've never met, but I've kept up with her since discovering her webpage on the "interwebs" (as Brent Butt would say).
Recent entries — like all of them, if you ask me — should not be missed. They make a pretty good intro to Kathy's take on things.

Bread City ~ Part 4

Dishes all done and dusted while bread bakes.

Bread will cool at least four hours before being bagged.

Scarf and apron hung up for the day.

That's when I sink into a tub of steaming water to relax a while before carrying on with the day.
And wouldn't you know it, that's when the deer decide to come into the yard for lunch!
Fortunately Scott is back home doing some bookwork, and calls me when he goes to find the camera:

They approach— a doe, a yearling, and two born this spring.

The doe keeps watch out beyond the truck.

They must be seriously hungry. They are right outside the window where I'm standing, and they can see me.

"I'd hate to lose a tree to them though," Scott says. Finally he can't take it, and goes out to put the hay in their faces. And they all bounce away — sproing! sproing! — like kangaroos.

Bread-baking Day ~ Part 3

Ready to shape into loaves.

Prepared for final half-hour rise.

And into the hot oven they go for an hour.

Bread-Baking Day ~ Part 2

Covered with damp cloth so the dough doesn't dry out, it rises in the draught-free oven.

Time for the first punch-down. Then another 45 minutes to rise.

Greased, ready and waiting.

Scott informs me it was deer outside the front window. There is a set of tiny tracks alongside the larger ones. And the turds are not oblong, like moose ones. Still, I would love to have seen the animals up so close.

Bread Baking Day ~ Part One

Start with something on your head to keep hair from falling into the dough.

I get an early start by measuring out the ingredients the night before, so when I get up in the morning all I have to do is put the liquids on the stove to heat, and give the flour, yeast and salt a stir before adding the lukewarm liquid to it.

The blessed kneading machine.

I set the timer on the stove for 15 minutes once the wet ingredients are mixed into the dry. Go ahead and call it cheating if you like. I still have to lug the heavy motor around, clean the dough hook afterward and wash the giant container. Some days I'm not so sure I've got the better deal. [Yes I do. Fifteen minutes can be very long if you don't find something worth listening to on the radio before you start. Great for the biceps though]. The motor can handle 20 cups of flour so that's the maximum size of a batch; it makes enough dough for 6 loaves.

Seeds go in near the very end; otherwise they will tear the gluten as the dough is kneaded.

It's now in the oven where there's no cool draft, rising its first hour-and-a-half, and that's where I'm at this morning. It's my "easy" day of the week. Besides making the weekly batch of bread, I'll work only two or three hours scheduling social media posts for Straight Goods News. My encyclopedia work is done till Monday.

Scott called me over to the living room window a half-hour ago and pointed out the tracks two feet from the house and a nice little pile of moose turds. Guess who came to dinner? There are two cedar trees by the front step, and someone made himself welcome during the night. I just may sit up through the wee hours with a flashlight now!

In other news, now that the parents and grandparents have had a chance to spread the good word ... my nephew Marc and his wife Michelle have just had their first baby, little Lexi Lou. Lexi Lilian, actually, but she's already Lexi Lou in my mind. Can't wait to go hold and kiss her!

Moose Visit

I've got a moose in my back yard, doo dah, doo dah!

We're in the deep freeze again, so softhearted Scottie let the fat hairy old dog spend the night in the porch. Which means she wasn't barking at everything that moved. Which resulted in: this morning before leaving the house for the first time Scott pointed out moose tracks leading right into the flower bed in the front yard. When he came back, it was to tell me to look out a back window, as a moose was lying on the other side of the dugout, chewing its cud.

It lay there until a magpie landed on its back. After a few swipes with the big nose didn't discourage the bird, the moose got up and stood watching the house for a few minutes (how patient they are!) before reaching up to nibble on twigs and branches.

The deer, too, are hungry enough to come right into the yard. Scott said he'd like to put a bale out for them although there aren't really extra bales aside from what's needed for the cattle. Not long after, he came in and told me he'd put one out by the barn for them.

I like a softhearted man best of all.

Last Month of Winter Begins

coyote trail

You know, it really IS only one month till spring!!!!!!

Woo hoo!
The birds are already singing different songs.

Top o' the Links

I see Ralph's up at the top of my Sask Readables list with some footage of a rough road one snowy night.


Mare's dad doesn't want to watch the Tyrone/Kirsty story anymore either.

See a mist bow in Scotland! First time for me.

And finally, Virginia Woolf has inspired a videogame.

Lilian, I have lost the url to your blog! Please send.