Raining in My Basement

Where was this T-shirt when I wanted to send a pic of it to Jolene during her hospital struggles?

In our basement, the relative humidity reading is 98% when we go down in the morning, after closing the bedroom window, to press a button and turn the dehumidifier on.

One unfortunate result is that fudge doesn't harden as it ought. There will be a shortage at my market table this weekend.

Perhaps one could improve the situation by leaving the windows closed all night as well as all day during the heat, and letting the dehumidifier run 24 hours a day, but no. It's summer, dammit, and I'm going to open the windows once in a while. Even if it's only in the cool of the evening, to sleep.

The two batches of caramel corn made early in the week didn't want to dry and harden as usual. Everett has volunteered to lick up anything that isn't fit for marketing, bless 'im.

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Friends from high school have kept me company this week - my trip to the dentist resulted in a crown - I visited the big bus that travels giving mammograms - pap smear is next - strawberry picking at Cara's this afternoon.

At Lily's garage sale in Kuroki after her passing, her bicycle decided to come home with me, and it is the most perfect fit (thank you, Lily!) I can't remember ever being so comfortable on a bike; next - another chance to ride it. Perhaps tonight.

Tomorrow will be taken up by preparations for the market on Saturday. Sunday will be a day of rest. Monday is to tackle Uncle Carl's memoir and keep at it all week.

And that's my life lately. What have you been doing?

Wanna See What a Tick Bite Looks Like?

An infected woodtick bite is about the size of a nickel.

After about five days of antibiotics, the mark had cleared up pretty much completely. But before that, everyone who saw it exclaimed, "Ewwww!"

The prescription needs to be finished so I'm still taking the damn things. And eating yogurt. And drinking minimal coffee and booze. BTW, those Smirnoff's Vodka Ice coolers are vunderbar. As soon as these pills are gone, I'm a-goin' to go buy me some.

And there are still ticks around. I caught one on me yesterday and Scott is still pulling them ("fat ones") off Jenna Doodle in spite of the treatments we have given to our dogs to prevent bites.

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Joan and her family stopped in for a couple hours yesterday on their way to Saskatoon to visit friends before heading back to Kelowna. In the evening I transplanted strawberries from pots into the garden (yes, we have a vegetable garden area again!) and today it's time to start putting this place back in order. I've been on the go long enough to let things slide. And we won't even talk about the condition of my office and bedroom; they need some serious sorting and reorganization, long overdue. I have too many clothes (love clothes) and too many books (love books) and too many papers to dispose of. We're living in controlled chaos here, my friends — bad feng shui! Call it what you will, but it absolutely does affect my state of mind when there isn't cleanliness and order in my surroundings. I'm not particularly fussy, or shooting for perfection or fancyness, but I like things tidy and want to quickly find whatever I'm looking for.

Scott gets irritated when I've put things away that he's left lying about. Put them away yourself then, I tell him; or suck it up and be grateful you don't have to live among piles of "stuff." Without me, he'd have to push grocery flyers, newspapers and envelopes out of the way whenever he sat down at the kitchen table.

He gets even more irritated when I can't immediately remember where I've put something, or don't remember seeing it at all. Sometimes he's put it away himself and forgotten, and I get blamed. Ah, the trials and tribulations of domestic life! But it doesn't slow me down any when I get into a cleaning frenzy. As my friend Rod used to say when his wife didn't appreciate all the hours he spent out in his woodworking shop, "I could have worse habits. It's not as if I'm spending all my time in the bar, is it?" I liked his logic.

Once in a while Scott threatens to clean up my stuff, and see how I like it. I just laugh. That'll be the day. He can barely pick his own socks off the floor before he runs out of them and has no choice. Here my behaviour may seem a little contradictory, for I refuse to put his dirty clothing into the laundry basket. Instead, if they've lain on the floor of our shared bedroom for more than a week or two, which drives me nuts, and I get around to it, I have been known to stuff them into a black garbage bag and put them in a closet out of sight. As a matter of fact, he still hasn't gone through a bag that's been sitting in a spare room for the past three months, if not longer. One day it could just disappear altogether, and apparently he would never notice anything is missing.

Family Days

Barbecue with my family on [nephew] Marc & Michelle's deck near Margo.

Dad with his children... the "four ugly sisters."

My niece Cara with her hubby Kris.

My nephew Ben, who has been gaining weight and is now 35 pounds. He is Joan and Gary's little fella.

Dad with his eldest granddaughter and all his great-grandchildren (three are Cara's; she is holding Marc & Michelle's baby, Lexi, and Joan's daughter Jordan is in the green top).

Man, She is Hot

One 5-minute downpour Friday night was followed by heat & humidity that still hasn't let up. Pretty nice weather for outdoor visiting in and around "the big tent," though. Better than cold and rain.

A pie-throwing contest was a fundraiser and these cousins, among others, were darn good sports about it. Apparently the pies were tasty too. 

Sign tacked up on the wall of the big tent.

Dad's cousin Orilea, party planner extraordinaire, along with her husband Bob, pulled off a smashing gathering for well over 100 relatives. I am still in awe of all the thought and effort that went into it, and somewhat ashamed of my own energy levels and ambition in comparison. I'll say it again: Wow. I'm not sure I'd ever have the guts to tackle it, myself.

These are the only pictures I took. The camera hung off a belt loop on my jeans till the last morning. What the -- ? Guess I was too busy yakking. (And yes, jeans in this sky-high temperature, in an effort to avoid sunburn. Spose I should be thankful that only my neck, shoulders and nose burnt, considering I didn't manage to stay in the shade every moment and obviously didn't apply enough sunscreen.)

We had a bus tour to the small village of Lintlaw, near which our grandparents (my great-grandparents) raised their nine children (out of 12) who survived to adulthood. The tour came complete with two knowledgeable and entertaining guides who provided family history and memories. We learned that Engdahl was not originally the family name! Back in Sweden it was Isacksson, and our great-grandfather made up a new one for himself after arriving in the States at age 17. Apparently "eng" was the name of a place he had lived back in the old country, and "dahl" means "valley" -- however Google's translator.com doesn't appear to know anything about these words. It thinks "eng" is German.

Anyhoo, it was an enjoyable weekend and then Dad, my sister Joan and family, and brother Cameron have been here since last week so we have been cramming in even more visiting together since the weekend. We gathered with Mom's family to bury Grandma's ashes on Sunday afternoon and then descended upon Karen's lakefront deck to visit some more and fill our faces at suppertime. This we repeated just down the road from her place yesterday, at my nephew's, and tonight supper is on me.

But it's going to be take-out, or going to town, because I can't bear the thought of turning on the oven or even the top of the stove to prepare something that could go into the slow-cooker or electric oven and be plugged in outside. The house, which seems cool enough this afternoon when you come in from the great outdoors, would be an inferno tonight.

Maybe air conditioning would be nice to have! We've thought that there are so few really hot days here, annually, that we can live without it. And of course we can. But these hot days do curb your options in the kitchen, that's for sure, which is why I am never completely sorry to see the end of summer.

For now I'm not complaining. We needed the heat.

Still Kickin, but Just Barely

View from back step.

Whew. Hot, busy weekend at the family reunion, and then another family get-together to bury Grandma's ashes yesterday... this morning I've managed to spend a couple hours resting and relaxing and am off again to spend the afternoon with my sisters near Margo. Our dad and our brother Cameroni Bumboni will be there later too, if not now ... they were out golfing earlier today.

Finally it's summer here. I'm taking antibiotics for a tick bite (forgive me if this is repeat info; I can't always remember what's already been posted) and was to stay out of the sun and wear sunscreen if I couldn't. Well I couldn't, and I did, but burned anyway. The sun, she is vicious!

[Cousin Gloria:  Rick said he'd sent me a message. I haven't received it!]

End of June Approacheth

Biggus Lunkus arrived home Sunday evening. Ducky decided I am "chopped liver" now. Usually it's Scott who is second choice for a lap. Now he's relegated to third and I am second.

Dad was out for a visit and lunch yesterday, and we have the Engdahl family reunion starting tomorrow night. It will be a busy weekend. Sister Joan and family will arrive today or tomorrow but will stay at Karen's ... very wise, as they will be much better fed! And more comfortably housed too. I still feel like we are half-camping at our place, and there are definitely no luxuries. Karen's new house sits on the lakeshore and overlooks ducks, geese and so on, on the water right in front. Quite lovely. And she pulls off big tasty meals without a second thought. Me, it was all I could do to come up with a chicken sandwich for Dad yesterday!

I am still without a vehicle and beginning to find it inconvenient. Up till now I could work around Scott's schedule when I needed to go somewhere. But lately he's at it from early till late and every day of the week, so I've been feeling stranded when there was something I really wanted or needed to do during business hours. Even shopping for vehicles is nearly impossible, as it's so time-consuming if you have to travel any distance to look at a possibility. I have put the word out to my family and in the past 24 hours they have brought two options to my attention, so who knows, I may have wheels again soon to go gallyvanting about. It would get Emil off my back! He doesn't let up about how he wishes I had a car so we could go places and do what we want when we want. When he wants, maybe I should say.

In the meantime my sister-in-law kindly lent me her little car on Tuesday to go to the dentist in Wynyard to get prepped for a crown. I spent two hours in the dentist's chair and came home with a nasty headache. Had to take a pill and go straight to bed. Apparently I have a tiny jaw/mouth and that extended the time required in the chair. Even the dentist worked up a sweat, trying to deal with that back molar. It was a bit of an ordeal; not painful, just fairly uncomfortable for far too long. I was never so glad to get something over with (except Everett's birth; it still surprises me that anyone decides to put herself through labour and birth a second time, once she knows what it's like). The next appointment, to fit the new crown, should only take a half-hour. I hope!

Woodticks are still a big problem here because we have a lot of long grass around the farmyard. One walk through the pasture behind our house, and I was picking ticks off myself for the rest of the day. I also got THREE bites, and one of them acted up. So I'm on antibiotics and cannot even have an alcoholic beverage this weekend. Oh well. It's not like I'm a big drinker anyway, but when you can't have something ... heh heh. Actually I won't miss a drink one bit. I imbibe so infrequently these days that one drink is usually all I can handle anyway without getting silly and acting like an Engdahl! Just kidding. My Engdahl relatives like to have a couple drinks and some fun around the campfire, but they are a fun-loving bunch even without the booze and no one seems to overdo it in the first place. I'm looking forward to seeing them all.

Blue Heron in Tree

Blue heron on left, redtailed hawk on right

A great blue heron in a tree seems just plain "clumsy" (Scott's word); I find it strange too. But they do nest in trees, after all.

Emil got his bakery visit after all, with his grandpa yesterday. He had what we call a "cheat" weekend, eating dairy and sugary delights.

It was a long day, but pleasant. The sky was grey for the first part, and blue and white in the later afternoon, and always comfortably warm if you weren't in the shade of a tree or building. The garage sale was well attended, the girls didn't need my help but were gracious enough to say they appreciated the company, and although Emil and I left with Dad for a couple hours in the afternoon, we went back with Scott to have supper with them after they'd pulled down the garage door.

This morning I am figuring out where to put the boxful of treasures I brought back. In our home and yard there will be some nice reminders of their mom, Lily, whose husband's parents I remember from when I was a very small girl in Margo, visiting my own grandparents. And whose father was a regular customer back in the day when I worked as a clerk at Jerry's General Store in Kuroki.

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The news from Alberta is horrible; my heart goes out to everyone affected by the disastrous flooding. What a reminder of how quickly and drastically everything around you can change.

Mother of 25-Year-Old Man

It's a rainy morning and we are off to Kuroki to help Scott's cousins with a yard sale at their mom's house. They have undertaken the difficult task of sorting through and organizing everything after her recent passing, and I offered to be there in case ... well, in case of whatever. I imagine it won't be easy to watch strangers picking through possessions that your mother may have been using just a couple weeks ago. If I am there, at least the girls can go into the house if there are tough moments.

Dad arrived yesterday from Kelowna. He had stopped in Cranbrook, Okotoks, Calgary and North Battleford on his way, and said the flooding all occurred just after he left an area so the rain may be right behind him. Anyway we had a nice little visit in the afternoon and he has gone on to Margo to stay with Karen.

It was Emil's 25th birthday yesterday and, without a vehicle to drive, I was unable to pick him up and do something to celebrate. We had planned a trip to the Wadena Bakery for a "treat," and were going to go out to Missy's restaurant (it belongs to my niece) at Margo for supper too. But Scott needed the truck to work, so Emil had to swallow his disappointment. He was picked up after he'd eaten supper, and brought out here, and I promised we'd still do those things — but it will have to be when I have wheels.

A Life in Jellybeans

Thanks for the link to this, Everett.
See you in one week,
Mom

Thankful for the Rain

A rainy day is perfectly welcome these days, now that the seeds are in the ground and they need it.
Although we've had some, and could do with sunshine and heat now, instead.

These days without work are as full as they ever were. How did I ever squeeze paying work in?

There are times when Scott could use my help on worksites. I had a previous engagement the other day when he asked if I'd go do some painting that afternoon, but there was a little heartlift when the opportunity was presented.  Apparently I would like to put my painting clothes on again. There is at least one hanger in the closet holding favourite wornout, stained-up clothing, kept for just such an occupation.

I've always avoided helping Scott on his worksites, for various reasons. One is the simple fact that it could mean too much togetherness, although because of his schedule we only see each other for a short while before he leaves in the mornings, and a couple hours in the evening.

Now I'm glad to spend less time sitting in this chair, and the idea of physical labour is more appealing than ever. Even if it means me and the lad are in each others' faces too much. But we shall see.

So Who Can You Trust For Good Sustainable Tea? Twinings.

Woodland anemone under the maple tree

Thanks to Rob Crew for the link to this article: Dangerously High Pesticide Levels In Celestial Seasonings Teas

http://www.honeycolony.com/article/dangerously-high-pesticide-levels-in-brand-name-tea/

All the more reason to go outside and pick your own tea fixins.

There are some ideas here:

Tea Leaves

And the Bloomage Begins

Adult Stuff and Kid Stuff

We attended a family funeral (for a cousin of Scott's dad's) in Kuroki this week. In the above photo is a piece of history from "back in the day," installed on a back wall of the town hall.

The next day, my highschool partner-in-crime made an overnight visit from her present home in Swift Current. It was wonderful to have her here for more than a few hours and no, we didn't get into any trouble. Not at all. Not one bit. Uh uh. Nope. All grown up now. No more silliness. Right, Kim?

How do you like my farmer hat from Fairy Glen, next to the lamp? I wear it when, if watching TV, the overhead light in the kitchen is on and glaring in my eyes. Doesn't Fairy Glen sound like a nice place to go? Although I hear there's nothing there anymore but a bulk fuel station.

Didn't get a decent pic; here Scott and Kim chat while I get my PJs on and sneak around the corner with the camera.

Over the past two days we've had a good downpour; over an inch. More in some places. We needed it badly. Now it can stop and make way for some heat. The painted daisies have begun to open and a day of sunshine will make them brilliant.

The third farmers' market that I've attended (yesterday, as a vendor) was another "slow" one. I enjoyed my time there anyway and got to see Kim's parents for a few minutes when she brought them in for a quick hello. They were in town for a relative's memorial service. Their home was my second home when we were teenagers. Spent a hell of a lot of time there. Snuck in and out her bedroom window many times when coming and going at odd hours and not wanting to disturb the adults.

You know. Kid stuff.

Plumber Boy

"I should have known better than to do this on a weekend," he said, when things went awry.

FarmerBoy replaced the old toilet.
Is there anything a farmerboy can't do?

Ants Live Under Rocks

Our outbuildings from the neighbours' driveway, just north of us. The tin is tearing off the chicken coop roof. Good thing we have none.

Another perfect day to be outside.
Last fall when the yard was torn up I picked up the larger stones and laid them in a border along the front curve of the perennial bed. That was a mistake; ants like to live under rocks. So I've just filled the little rusty child's-wagon three times and hauled those rocks out of there, then sprinkled cornmeal on the soil to decimate the ant colonies. It's not like they don't have acres of other places to build their dwellings.

Emil is calling; he needs help with his physio.

Sunny Days, Sunny Sunny Sunny Dayays

Another little something from Grandma Benson's china cabinet. Since taking this pic, I have dug up a proper-sized serving spoon.

We've had good weather this past week, so I'm not in the house or at the computer much. Now that two of my jobs have come to an end, there is no need. Besides, there will be rainy days when there's no choice. We hope. We need moisture now.

I escape from the hot sun just enough to be on top of the dishes and to be eating fabulously (though plain fare) well. Today I made crackers.

There has been time to get another chapter of Uncle Carl's memoir read (Annette, what's the holdup with yours?) and to take a small tub of soapy water out to the camper and start scrubbing out the winter's dust and dead flies and spiderwebs, and give the outside windows a swipe.

Only two pots of perennial yellow daisies remain to put into the ground. But where, I am asking, where? The flower bed is so packed with my lovelies. The oriental poppies will bloom any day, and soon the painted daisies. Oh it will be dazzling. I can hardly wait.

Talked to Everett for two hours on the phone yesterday. He has no summer job in Edmonton yet, but doesn't want to come out here because "You wreck my psyche" and "You drive me crazy" and "You don't leave me alone" and so on and so forth. I assume there are few 20-yr-old lads who want to spend a lot of time around the farmhouse with their mother. On the other hand, how many of them talk to her on the phone for two hours? I figure we get along great. He says he can't stand the sight of my face.

Sigh. This too shall pass. Recently I dreamt that when I saw him, I wept with happiness. Guess I have to take what I can get.

Demon Heifers

Uff da! It's been a while.
I was down with a migraine for THREE FRICKEN DAYS and since then it's been warm enough that the great outdoors has kept me busy transplanting, watering, and hoeing.
Not to mention that, when taking breaks from the sun, I've been in the kitchen making a marinade for steak, making hamburger patties to freeze, making ketchup, making lentil-herb soup, making slowcooker beans ... and of course, doing dishes 10,000 times a day.
And today, I washed the inside of the window over the kitchen sink. Next: put in the screen and get that sucker opened up!

Trip to Saskatoon

Since having that root canal a month ago, I've been feeling right back up to snuff. But the specialist had to make sure all is as it should be, so a followup trip to the city was required. This is one of the worst parts of living out here; you have to travel some distance for medical and dental care beyond the basics, and it requires both time and money that many can't spare, or at the least it adds the burden of travel when you're already pressed. I hopped the bus on Wednesday morning, spent a minute and a half in the dentist's chair yesterday, and rode the bus back home in the afternoon. At least I got to spend my time there with Cathy, so a required trip to the city always has a treat in it. Had I stayed longer I could have seen other good friends, but Cathy has a lot on the go today and all weekend and I was eager to get home and back into my flowerbeds.

A few of the things I saw on a very busy mainstreet Wadena while waiting for the bus:

Crosswalk? We don't do crosswalks in Wadena. We walk across the street wherever we please, every one of us. 

We have a lot of First Nations residents, or they come in from the Fishing Lake Indian Reserve.

Not the usual STC (Sask Transportation Co) vehicle. This is a stand-in while the regulars get their spring make-over.

I did take a picture of a local daycare provider herding her half-dozen small charges across the street a few minutes before the bus appeared above, but won't post such a thing without the permission of their parents. And I've no clue who those might be. What was I thinking?

Lots of activity in town on a weekday morning, anyway. The bus didn't have many passengers but I did make some new friends — this is easy in Saskatchewan, because everybody talks to everybody, friends and strangers alike, or at least I do. It's one of the best parts of living out here. People are not afraid of each other or, as I found in Toronto last May, offended or suspicious if you speak to them before you have been introduced. That's not to say city dwellers are never friendly and open. They are just a lot more careful. Perhaps they have to be. 

Tea with Grandpa Jack

Great-Grandpa Jack's moustache cup, which it's my guess he never used. And I won't either, and not just because I have no moustache.

My tea today is made from gatherings around the farmyard and on my walks: rosehips, yarrow, giant hyssop and pineapple weed.

One thing about being "without work" is that I spend next to no time here at the computer, and when I do, it's to rest after being outdoors hoeing or transplanting. In spite of my intention not to buy a lot at greenhouses this year and to patiently wait for my saved flower seed from last fall to sprout, I've still ended up with three trays of bedding plants from area greenhouses. As soon as the weather is fine, I am impatient to get them all in place. I started with the pansies last night and got one tray emptied, and was tired after all the digging, and dirty, but satisfied.

Last spring after a horrible cold windy freezy weekend in late May and a number of my bedding plants dying from it all, I promised myself that forevermore I'd wait till June to transplant. Ha. Who can do that, when the sun is shining brightly and you know those plants are as anxious to get into the ground and spread their roots as you are to see them there?

Life o' Reilly, Yessir

The tractor across the road flushed out a moose back near our driveway when I was out walking. 

Ever since the first time that happened I turn quite a few circles while walking, so as not to miss anything.

I also turn because there is a long way to see, and lots of it, and it's a feast for the eyes. I practically fall on my knees at the everyday splendor of the land, trees, sky, water, birds. Top that with the sweet scent in the air (wolf willows in bloom?) and I can't imagine a better heaven. My contented sighs are deep and frequent.

Last year's stubble: crooked stripes.

It's almost hard to believe these photos were all taken on the same walk yesterday, but that's how it was: I started off with a scarf around my pencil neck, and a bunnyhug with the hood up, under a squall jacket with its hood also up. By the time I got home it was so hot and sunny on the step that I couldn't get those clothes off fast enough.

I walk to the ravine most days. It hosts blue herons, canvasbacks, northern shovellers, mallards, goldeneyes, blue-winged teal, mudhens, Canada geese, and the odd grebe; this spring there was a pair of cormorants. And there are always muskrats and, they say, beavers, though I've never seen one here.

Pied Piper of the Pasture

The boys brought heifers and one old cow over, and Scott walks out to see them when he gets home.

Then they follow him to the barn.

They have all kinds of green grass, but he throws down a bale. Maybe this is to sleep on, as we have wet weather. Something tells me it's to eat though. I don't know from cattle.

He finds them endlessly entertaining.

At the Farmer's Market

My cousins Janet, Rhonda and Lynn at the neighbour's market table

It was another slow day at the hall in Wadena yesterday, they said, but it brought in some welcome surprises: the three ladies above, and my cousin Karla (from Flin Flon area now) and her daughter and mother. There were familiar faces, and new. Had I not sold a single thing, I'd still have left energized. Obviously I've been a hermit for too long.

Wish I'd thought to get the camera out for a picture of Gracie! That's Karla's girl. She is growing up fast; and what a sweetie. Who has the same name as someone else who is high on my list of sweeties.

It is eight years, tomorrow, that Mom died. That anniversary doesn't seem to bother me, but I might be kidding myself: the body doesn't forget. The sleeper doesn't forget, either, when you tell yourself not to worry about something, to let it go. It frets as it wishes and you can toss and turn all night. Well, whatever. It's been eight years that, before she died, I couldn't imagine without her in them.

I find myself missing her more, though, instead of less, as the time since I last saw her gets longer.

Emil's Third Visit to the Naturopath

It's that loveliest of greens ... spring green! 

The bones of dead farm machinery

No time for much today besides a trip to Melfort to take Emil to the naturopath we've been consulting due to the sensation of plugged ears that has been bothering him. Two general practitioners and two ear/nose/throat specialists have said, "Nothing to be done. It will go away eventually." The first time, it took six months to clear up. This time it's gone on for a year and a half.

It's been disappointing and frustrating. But it was when Emil started saying he wishes he was dead because of how his ears feel, and he'd like to kill himself or get someone else to do it, that it got worrisome. And he didn't stop saying it when you talked to him about the realities of death and the consequences, or how ears that feel plugged — but don't hurt and he can still hear as well as always — are not worth ending your life over. And how upsetting it is for people to hear him say that. And so on. Basically this has been his way of getting the message across that this is really bothering him and for heaven's sake do something about it.

Two or three months ago the naturopath did a live blood analysis and saw that, among other things that showed up, yeast was a big problem in his system. We removed bread from Emil's diet; also dairy and sugar. He has complained long and loud, but we have stuck to our guns. In a short while he lost his baby fat and his acne, but the plugged-ears sensation remains.

The live blood analysis today showed that there is no more yeast problem, and a number of other things shown by the blood last time have either cleared up or are on their way out. He can start having bread and dairy again, but in moderation and with a couple days between servings, so that he doesn't end up back where he was yeast-wise. But now we are going to cut out eggs for the next month and see if that makes any difference.

Emil must have told Dr. Fillatre 20 times today, speaking so quickly and intensely he could hardly be understood, "You know, I don't like having plugged ears but I also don't like not being able to eat the foods I like." He was hoping the doc would bring out his magic wand and fix everything. Oh if only it could work that way. But no, me laddie: you are the one who has to do the work. And it's not easy changing your way of eating, that's for sure.

Flowers & Kittens

And the madness begins ...

Kittens whose mother disappeared require dropper feeding. I'm on afternoons while our niece Rebecca is at school.

Feels Like Monday

Betty and Richard arriving home from work on Friday afternoon.

These are two of Emil's roommates in town.

You should see him. In —what? three months?— without yeast products, dairy and sugar, he's slimmed down far enough that I don't want to see him lose any more weight.
"Are you hungry during the week?" I ask, making sure he's not starving it off.
He says not, but like any young man at his mother's for the weekend, he has a voracious appetite and I indulge it as much as possible and reasonable. Don't wanna kill the kid with kindness, but figure since portions are limited at the group home, a little extra on the weekend is just insurance.

Laughing It All Away

What more can I say?

I've just been given two-weeks notice from another job (gol darn these non-profits, I'd say, but that's the way of it), and yesterday my van gave up the ghost finally and completely so I am wheelless.

Obviously it is time to start dancing.

It doesn't feel like hard times and as I'm able-bodied and my eyes and computer still work, I'm not too worried about finding ways to earn a dollar. Meanwhile what is the harm in furious dancing? It keeps your spirits up and kickstarts your energy. Even when it's only around your own kitchen.

In other news, my cousin Jolene is at her home for the weekend and will return to the hospital tomorrow to pick up her belongings and get properly discharged. She has been there two months and is more than ready to be done with it. There is one nurse that plays power games and bullies the patients while with her fellow employees butter wouldn't melt in her mouth; and overall it doesn't seem as if the medical staff are on top of their game. For instance, they didn't know (and neither did she) that she had a broken kneecap among all the other fractures. It was on an x-ray ... so ... what the ...? And when her doctor ordered a blood test to see why Jolene's had a mid-grade fever for two or three weeks, the nurse told her she didn't need it, and didn't take her for the test.

There are a number of these kinds of stories, which make you wonder if Jolene is getting the care she deserves and needs. Being at home will be no picnic either, as she is not supposed to be cooking and doing dishes, among other things, and ends up doing them anyway. Sleeping in a bed that isn't best for her back when she was specifically told to sleep on a firmer one they have; handling a difficult eight-year-old; why, if it weren't for the bumbling of the medical staff at the facility she's been at, being back there could almost be considered a holiday in comparison. If Jolene didn't still have so much pain and difficulty breathing, that is.

We talked on the phone quite a while yesterday and my conclusion is that she is between a rock and a hard place. Fortunately we all think she is as feisty as they come, so we don't worry too much about her. We believe she has it in her to get what she needs. I hope this hasn't resulted in people not offering to help her, thinking she doesn't need it. Even so, we had quite a few good laughs at the situations we find ourselves in (the nasty nurse verbally abused an elderly patient and made her cry, but Jolene was "in the can waiting for my ass to get wiped so I couldn't do anything but listen," for example) and the foibles of us all.

Slow Start to Saturday

A henna design on skin. Somewhere I've kept the link to the artist's webpage ... hm, where is that now ...

The image above was found while searching for breast-related images for Bev's webpage.

Scott delivered a large glass mug of black coffee to me by 6:30 this morning so I've been up and around for five hours already. I've been out in the yard in my pyjamas, feeding the old dog and pulling grass and dandelions from the flowerbeds. I've refilled the bird feeders — oh my that is a busy place these days, and such variety and noise! — and washed and dried the dishes and made oatmeal for breakfast.

The sun she is a-shining & Emil and I are going gallavanting. There are garage sales in Wadena this weekend, and I'm looking for one of those old air poppers for backup, in case the theatre-popper (my last Christmas gift to Mom, which Dad gave back to me after she died; "I'll never use it," he said) gives up the ghost just when it's most needed: "crack" production week.

Then we'll head to Margo, where Emil hopes to see his cousin Marc and have a look at little Lexi. He hasn't seen her yet and loves babies, and I haven't gotten my hands on her since she was a month old. Aunt Shirley is back in town so we'll swing by there too; Emil was worried she'd never come home, after she'd been staying with her son Gerald for so long. And of course we hope to catch Karen at home. When we texted yesterday she thought it likely. Tomorrow would be a different story.

And so off I go to make smoothies for the road ... Yee ha! It's the weekend!

Frogs for Dad

On the loveliest of peaceful walks last night before sunset.

The leaves started coming out yesterday. This is always a thrilling time isn't it? That bright bright green is the best pick-me-up there is.

The huge flocks of snow geese have begun passing low overhead as they look for places to land for the night. I know better than to stand looking up with my jaw hanging open in awe, but it is still hard not to.

The deafening cacophony of chorusing frogs has already climaxed and abated, volume-wise, but I recorded this little bit of backyard heaven anyway. The camera doesn't pick up all the bird calls in the air around me as I stand near the barn to eyeball the lone (apparently) Canada goose on the slough. You can't see it in this bit of film, probably.

Dad said one thing he misses about living out here is the frogs in the spring.
Here you go, Dad:

After the Rain

Scott thought he'd run over the grass one more time before Faye & Rick came over last night.

New AFOs

We had rain! Yay!
In other news, there is no other news.

Emil has just put his new AFOs on.

He has to break them in in 10-minute increments once every two hours, to start. Already he says they hurt to walk in. That will likely mean another trip to the city for adjustments; maybe more.
But first, we give them a chance.

Ladyhead

Lorna: I made two small yeast-free loaves of whole wheat bread yesterday and they are okay! So Emil will be able to have a little bread on the weekends for a while, but not during the week, and that's okay for now. These are almost biscuity -- and that's okay too.

I'm also modifying my daily bread, eating it only every second day and having one slice of toast instead of two. A person has to fill up on something else, then ... I am not good at finding replacements that appeal, so I tend to nibble again in a couple hours. Or plain nibble.

Breakfast smoothies lately have been only water, frozen apples and strawberries. Scared to try that kale and cucumber smoothie recipe that was going around, recommended to treat migraines. Scared to end up throwing away a perfectly delicious cucumber!

This ladyhead vase belonged to Aunt Jean (Grandma's sister).

Her mother's grandfather (my great-great-great grandfather!) carved the wooden tools for her mother as a little girl.