Wadena of a Morning

It's a 10-minute walk from Everett's place to the news office.

Joni sings: Just Like This Train

http://jonimitchell.com/library/video.cfm?id=373

Brenda's Roof

How gorgeous are these willow ptarmigan ... CLICK IMAGE for full story on Brenda's blog.

Thursday Already

Faerie door, image from the web

We all have 'em, right? Those dreams wherein you have murdered someone years ago and they are buried underneath a floor somewhere and you shudder to imagine what will happen if they are ever discovered.

When awakening from this dream I have to think about it for more than a few seconds to reassure myself that I have never murdered anyone.

Perhaps I had this dream again last night because of some office talk about Brian Dennehy, the actor who played serial killer John Wayne Gacy, who buried his victims in his basement. Dennehy's portrayal was so chilling that I can't see the actor without remembering it. He scares me.

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Here. Have a happier memory:

All too soon it will be gone

Click to enlarge.

I never get tired of snow sculpture. Or should it be called wind sculpture.

Driving Practice

Turning onto mainstreet Wadena

It's coming down to the crunch. My 21-yr-old son has to get his licence, or he stands to lose his job.
He has put it off, put it off, put it off, until now ...
And so, I drove into town on Sunday and sat in the passenger's seat while he drove around for three hours.
I drove in again yesterday after he got off work, and made him drive for an hour.
And will do the same tonight after the News office closes.

He bitches about it. He doesn't want to. It's so boring. He's got better things to do. And so on.

I say, "You think this is my preferred method of spending time?"

Finally he gets it. This is not for my benefit, but for his.

Okay, maybe it IS for me. After all, do I really want him to lose his job and move back in with me?

Nope.
Love him dearly, but it's best when he's in his own house.

Alisa Burke's Studio

These may be just the ticket for the recycling that clutters up my dwelling before it is taken to the depot.

Is there anything Alisa Burke can't do?

She must be the most fun parent, ever.

Now, I just need ...

* canvas (bet there's a potato sack around here somewhere)
* paint (what kind?)
* brush
* person who sews

What makes the bag hold its shape around the top? A certain stiffness of canvas?

Is there a paint that is washable?

Careful how you place that postage stamp

Click HERE to read a review at the Washington Post.

From To the Letter; a Celebration of the Lost Art of Letter Writing, by Simon Garfield:

In 1938, what may be the most useful manual of all was published in Shanghai. Written by Chen Kwan Yi and Whang Shih, Key to English Letter Writing was a guide that served double duty: it taught the Chinese how to compose personal and business letters in slightly creaky English, and it provided its English readers with invaluable insight into personal and corporate Chinese customs we may not have otherwise been aware of. Unlike Anglo-American guides, these letter templates did not usually concern misfiring sons and their long-suffering fathers, or how best to address a duchess. Instead, the examples were both more mundane and, conceptually, more profound.

Upside down, top right corner = Write no more.

Upside down in line with surname = I am engaged.

Centred on right edge = Write immediately!

At right angle, top left corner = I hate you.

 The stamp-tilting tradition is maintained today in situations where mail is subject to external scrutiny and censorship, in particular in prisons and in the military.

Tickle Me Ivy

What? Can't a gal have a fabulously relaxing day?
This one is.
It is super cold out there, 40 or 50 below, but through the window? Bright and crisp and sparkling.

Old Bartley Place

The old Bartley place, painted by Carl Morris, was built by my great-grandparents in 1914(ish) and still stands

Heart in Hand's most recent blog entry lamented the loss of frequent posting by bloggers, and I have to agree. Facebook has taken the wind out of many writing sails, from what I can see. But whatever: it is what it is. The time for some things just passes, and this has to be accepted.

I return to regularly updated webpages; others fairly quickly fall off my radar.

It was late when I got to bed last night, and considerably later when I got to sleep. I didn't let the wakefulness make me anxious; after all, I told myself, I am resting. Bet I was snoozing three seconds after letting myself off the gotta-sleep hook.

Lamp Shade

Nearly midnight, and Everett and I have spent the entire evening jabbering. No Doctor Who.
Mind you I didn't get here till 8. Stopped at the home of a family friend to buy perogies and have a visit on my way over. Went out again for a short meeting. Beautiful warmish evening, light snow, lovely night to walk in town. Supposed to go down to 40-below by the weekend. Hard to believe. And yet not.

And now, bedtime. Can't keep my eyes open. Just popping in out of habit.

Spruce Grouse

Spruce grouse wonders where its family is. Click to enlarge.

What a fabulous piece of practical wisdom from Elan Morgan. You must read it:

We are not what we shall be, but we are on the way.

That girl is a very fine writer.

And oh, how this topic speaks to me.

Everett in Pencil

Everett in pencil, by Floyd Young

Another long weekend gone (every weekend is a long weekend, for me, since they can do without me at the office on Mondays) and Scott's on his way out to warm up the truck and load tools he'll need today. I've got 15 minutes to wash, dress, and brush my teeth. Best get a move on, then!

Easier said than done after three days without having to be anywhere or do anything at a certain time. It was pure bliss. But am I rested? Oh I think so.

Cloud moving in

Click to enlarge.

It's cold and it's windy, but out I went anyway.
There is no better way to wake up the brain and get your blood moving.
Plus, the sun's shining and the snow's sparkling. Is there anything better than that?
Besides, I have ski pants and I'm not afraid to wear 'em.
And I have a fur-trimmed hood and cuffs, which I'm slightly afraid to wear, but not enough to make me unzip them from the parka.
For now I enjoy luxuriating in them.
Soon enough they'll be ratty and dirty. I am the PigPen of clothes.

Ditch filled in

Lazy day #2, coming to a close.
I should write something newsy or witty, but instead I'm going to lie down and read.
It's my party and I'll lie if I want to.

Whitest coldest dunes ever

It really is glorious, snow is.

Hatha Yoga

Click to enlarge.

Ahhhh... hot, freshly perked coffee. Everett's house to myself for an hour or so before I walk to the office. A slightly sore back after a night in the living room on the hardest mattress in the world.

The soreness won't last long. I started doing hatha yoga again on my 55th birthday, about three weeks ago, and already can feel my muscles and tendons becoming more flexible.

 It seems to me that in the past half-year or so, when I get up from a sitting position, my body is often stiff for no reason I can fathom; I put it down to getting older.

 I have great faith in yoga. For me it is key to suppleness and stamina, and I don't mean just physically. When I do yoga regularly, there is in me an unshakeable core of calm and strength.

Also, yoga feels so good. It can be as pleasurable as sinking into a warm bath.

Well -- best get some grub in, and get to work. It's production day at the office -- the paper now comes out Mondays  -- so Friday is a day of steady slogging to meet the press deadline. We've never managed it yet, since I started working at the news office in October, but maybe today will be the day!

Back 40

Reflections

Bruce Turns 50

There was a surprise party for Scott's brother.

Great Sorrows

Great sorrows are dumb.

 There is no consolation;

        It is a matter of regaining

One's balance.

-Liane de Pougy, My Blue Book

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Grandpa Emil's birthday today.



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Grandpa Emil, left.

Grandpa, second from left, front. (Not the dog, you smartass.)

ECRossie

Embossed on the back of the cardboard frame around an old photo of a young woman whom no one can identify. You saw it here several days ago.

A search turns up the following goodies.

A Window into the Regina Tornado of 1912

Rock Thunder, Piaopot Reserve
which leads to a bio of E.C. Rossie, who "has the distinction of taking the first moving pictures ever shot in the province."

An Edwardian Lady, a Rossie photograph for sale

First Saskatchewan Legislature ~ Framed collection of heads



Well now, enough of that.

The Lair

To avoid catching Scott's nasty cold last week, I trundled down to the guest room at the other end of the hallway. There I sleep like a drunken baby.

His cold is mostly gone, but this little lair has turned out to be so cosy I don't want to leave it.

With my great-great grandmother watching over and the trusty Ducky Doodle snuggled up alongside, I've gotten quite comfortable.

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It's the quilt that I love.
It was given to me by my mother's lifelong friend Joanne Bohl; her mother made it.
It is thin, yet heavy and warm.
Blanket-rich, yes we are.

Effective and Contagious

"There is no mystery in the art of writing," she said.

 "But the miracle by which a living emotion is captured without dying in the process is a mystery. 

An emotion must  be strong enough to be translated into words. 

Only then is writing effective and contagious."

-Anaïs Nin, The Voyage Within

Who Dis

This photograph was in Grandma Benson's collection.
No one has been able to identify the woman, girl, person.
There is something sad about that.

Whitecaps in February

Here's what I'm trying for supper:

Idea lifted off Facebook or somewhere.


Made this one last week; the marinade is splendid and going into my recipe collection.
I used lemon juice instead of lime, and plain yogurt instead of Greek, whatever that is:


Whole Roasted Cauliflower

1 tablespoon vegetable oil

1 head cauliflower

1½ cups plain Greek yogurt

1 lime, zested and juiced

2 tablespoons chile powder

1 tablespoon cumin

1 tablespoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon curry powder

2 teaspoons kosher salt

1 teaspoon black pepper

Directions

1. Preheat the oven to 400° and lightly grease a small baking sheet with vegetable oil. Set aside.

2. Trim the base of the cauliflower to remove any green leaves and the woody stem.

3. In a medium bowl, combine the yogurt with the lime zest and juice, chile powder, cumin, garlic powder, curry powder, salt and pepper.

4. Dunk the cauliflower into the bowl and use a brush or your hands to smear the marinade evenly over its surface. (Excess marinade can be stored in the refrigerator in an airtight container for up to three days and used with meat, fish or other veggies.)

5. Place the cauliflower on the prepared baking sheet and roast until the surface is dry and lightly browned, 30 to 40 minutes. The marinade will make a crust on the surface of the cauliflower.

6. Let the cauliflower cool for 10 minutes before cutting it into wedges and serving alongside a big green salad.

As a matter of fact, I think I'll make some of this marinade right now, or a variation of it, and drizzle it over the potatoes.

Kathy's Home Decor

It's a skirt that I love, but cannot wear because it looks like shit on me.
So it's been either in the closet or the sewing kit for years.

I threw it over a curtain rod so I can enjoy looking at it.

Our Friend Monte

As he looked in his teens, when we met.

His friends and family are together at Rosebud Hall this afternoon to mark Monte's passing on the 27th of January.

I am doing it at home in a different way:

• dressed in my favourite clothes.
• put on scented oils and pretty jewellery.
• lit a candle.
• set a glass of water on the kitchen window ledge.
• smudged the house with sage.
• sang the song that came to me.
• wished Monte well.
• thanked him for the laughs, and there were many.
• lifted a glass of red wine.

Monte was a neighbour, so he and Scott grew up scallawags together.

Losing a friend to death is ...
We just have to help ourselves get by.

Things on Things

Things on the piano

I've been coming over to Everett's about once a week to spend an evening with him watching Doctor Who. He gets up early in the morning and heads off to work before eight, and I usually sit here with his laptop and catch up on my favourite blogs, and my own.

Things on kitchen shelf

After he leaves for work, I do the dishes. The countertop is completely covered with them and I have sometimes eaten supper the night before here, and breakfast in the morning, so I figure the least I can do is wash some dishes. I can do the kid a favour by helping out.

Things on the TV

Last night he tells me he doesn't like it when he comes home and finds the dishes washed, and I shouldn't do it anymore. I must look at him askance, because he goes on to explain: he hates doing dishes and doesn't do them till he has no choice, but knows he must discipline himself to keep on top of the task, and when someone else has done the chore, he does not have the opportunity to practise self-discipline. As a matter of fact, he looks at the dishes throughout the week and allows himself not to do them, because "Mom will, next time she's here." And he thinks this is probably not good for him.

Where did I get this kid?

This morning as he was leaving I mentioned being unable to laze around the house because work beckons early; it's our new production day, since the paper now comes out Mondays.

"Good," he said. "You won't have time to do the dishes then."

Married to Javier Bardem

On the way to town in the morning, we pick up Scott's brother Bruce and before we drive out of the yard they notice a calfster is in the wrong pen. So out they go to put it right. 

It was 29-below at 8:30 a.m.
I watched from the cab of the half-ton.
Tucked deep into my parka was I.

     

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Dream:

I was married to Javier Bardem.

OMG.

Hugging and kissing Javier Bardem was heaven.

:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,*:-.,_,.

Cookies for Benny

When you have a day off after the weekend, you have caught up on your laundry and dishes and can either armwrestle yourself into baking bread, as perhaps you ought, or do what you want.

I did what I wanted, and made a batch of cookies.
Last week, on my birthday in fact, an old friend died. His roommate and good friend likes these cookies, as I recall, which is what spurred me on to making them: and so some went into a plastic strawberries container before being sealed into a bag to be taken over to the house.

Out here, there is no place to recycle these plastics. So I stack and store them for throwing away lightbulbs (they keep the glass from breaking, slicing the garbage bag, cutting someone) and other sundry uses that come up. Not many. Now: protector of cookies.

And then I did more of what I wanted.
A few pictures in frames got added to the wall of "family" collection.

Honestly, I can spend all day just picking things up and moving them around.
It's very satisfying.
Like bringing order to controlled chaos.

Fairweather Walker, admittedly

The dogs set out bravely with me.

I head south, toward the sunshine.

Getting past the trees. There's an icy wind.

Wiser to turn around and stay close to shelter.

Finally February

We followed these two deer down the road a ways before turning into Faye & Rick's driveway.

It was another stellar meal by Rick & Faye, who barbecue all winter.
It was topped off by tequila liqueur.
They returned from Mexico a week ago.

Collecting Happy

Birthday card from my sister Joan, who is blogging at CollectingHappy.

Boy, age 21

Everett in his kitchen, bundling up to walk to work.

The Wind she blew the Snow about

And that's when you want to stay indoors where it's warm and comfortable and watch the snowbanks form on the other side of your window.

We are eating the most fabulous cabbage dish. And the easiest. I am in love.

•
Classic Stewed Cabbage
1/4 cup butter
2 onions, chopped
1 stalk celery, chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
1 medium head cabbage, cut into squares
1 (14.5 ounce) can stewed tomatoes, with liquid
salt and pepper to taste
Directions
1. Melt butter in a large saucepan over medium heat. Add onion, celery, and garlic and saute for 3 to 5 minutes, or until translucent. Stir in cabbage, reduce heat to low, and simmer for 15 minutes.
2. Pour in tomatoes and season with salt and pepper to taste. Cover pan and cook over medium heat for 30 to 40 minutes, or until cabbage is tender.

Tonight we had this in the fridge for leftovers, so I added a cup of water, a large tin of diced tomatoes, and half a cup of brown rice and let it simmer covered till the rice was cooked.
Mm Mm Mm.