A Night Out In Wa-Town

Emil with Doc during the intermission, when we all lumbered down to the church basement for cookies and coffee.

I thought I'd try out my camera's videomaking capabilities, and managed a not-too-bad recording of Mr MacLean onstage, though the lighting wasn't very good. It is presently being uploaded to Youtube but I'll add it here later for your listening pleasure, blues lovers.

Emil says he just might let his beard grow as long as Doc's.

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What happened to my favourite beach? In 2007 Fishing Lake flooded due to heavier-than-usual rainfall and inadequate drainage. If you're in Canada, you saw it on the national news quite a bit that spring. Homeowners along the shoreline are still dealing with waves, on windy days, breaking up their boat launches and smashing against their back steps. It was a real mess and it still is.

Doc is in the House

Photo lifted from Doc's webpage.

Picture this guy without the lifejacket, with a guitar, and — I'm guessing because that's how he stepped on stage last year at this time — wearing a dark suit and a fedora. This is blues musician Doc MacLean, who is performing in Wadena tonight at 7:30 at the Anglican church. Emil's got his tickets (for him and his former aide, Sheila, who is going to take him) and he's so excited.

I asked a couple people if they knew about the show tonight and they responded that they weren't into "churchy" stuff. I thought, but did not say out loud, that I'm pretty sure Doc's got enough of the devil in him to squelch any preconceived notions about what kind of music gets put on in churches. Heh!

I've got to get back to work until it's time to leave, but Doc's webpage is here. Poke around there until you find a link to listen to his music; it's there somewhere. Also, he is touring across Canada and is blogging about it as time permits, so do go check it out. He's a good storyteller and, while I have no desire to traipse across the land myself right now (but I will, Dad and Joan, I will soon!), I sure enjoy reading about all the welcoming people he meets and beautiful places he goes.

He'll be in Saskatoon tomorrow and in Edmonton on the weekend. If you like the blues, don't miss him.

Emilisms

My favourite beach is no more. 

Still, we could park along the road and listen to the waves gently caressing the shore and bask in the light reflecting off the water and breathe in the satisfying scent of lake.

Emilisms
My son is one of a kind but it's difficult to describe him. Best to let him speak for himself. Now granted he has heard these words from someone but he has made them his own, mostly by his earnest and repetitive nature:

1. Mom. I'm the best thing that ever happened to you.
2. I'd better listen or else there will be consequences and I won't like them I can guarantee you that.
3. Mom. I'm the one that always likes to give you kisses.
4. I graduated when I was 19 but I went to school till I was 22 because when you work full-time you don't get as many holidays. I'm pretty smart.

Shirley's Latest Creation

Aunt Shirley has completed her quilt. I think she said the pattern is "Grandma's Flowers."

***

I've twisted Joanne Bohl's arm to write a little column for the blog, and she has made a first entry in Out Margo Way. See the link on the left side. Joanne and Mom were very close friends and Mom always loved Joanne's storytelling. Joanne is also a journaller or diarist so there is material to be mined. With luck she will add something new every day! Heeeeeeeeee!!!!! Am I dreaming, Joanne? Nothing like applying a little bit of pressure, eh? I know, I am incorrigible. But you know my motto: If you don't ask, you don't receive.

Stop, I Say

When you pull out of our country driveway without stopping to look left, you risk being T-boned by a passing vehicle because the grass in the ditch grows so tall. Now passing vehicles are few and far between, but all it takes is once, so I have been waiting for this stop sign to be mounted on a post and installed properly for visitors leaving our place to see. Unfortunately Manful has had no time for this kind of thing, so over the summer I've leaned the sign against the ugly old John Deere plough (its days are numbered, I tell you; as soon as there is some muscle around to haul the thing out of there, it's gone. I know, I'm a bad, bad farmgirl-- but honestly, farm machinery as a yard decoration does absolutely nothing for me), where it's been blown over onto its face constantly.
Finally I rigged it up to stay, on the back of the old Golden Grain Farm sign. Whose days are also numbered.

Margo

Main Street Margo.

There's still no place like home.

In the Graveyard

Everett and I went for a sunshiny drive this afternoon and stopped at the Margo cemetery to visit Mom's grave. As I gave him the tour of the resting places of his great-great-great grandparents and suchlike, we noticed this tombstone. I like the epitaph. It's not often enough that words on the marker tell us much about the departed other than their birth and death dates, how they were related to us, and sometimes how we felt about them -- our dearly beloved, ever missed, darling ones. This pithy sentence gives me a pretty lively image of the lady herself.

Everett remarked that having a name like "Sunshine" has to be a good thing, for anyone.

TNT Cafe

An unexpected early run to town one morning to deliver a truck for repairs bought me breakfast in one of the local eateries on Main St.

Why I Don't Have a Tattoo

Little Gal

Her Sweetness got all dressed up for a wedding.

I stopped over at Cara's and Trea gave me a smile and showed off her walking. But when Scott came in and squatted down, she ran right into his arms. I swear that man is a baby magnet.

Workin' Men

Poor ol' Shnevy was enlisted to spend the day mucking out a mouldy basement on one of Scott's jobs today..

The Finger

How drivers in rural Saskatchewan acknowledge each other when they meet on the road.

Usually it’s men who do this (I think); I’m the only woman I know who does. Speak up, gals, if you do it too. Figure I must have picked this up from Dad.

Do drivers do this where you live? And if not, is there another signal they use?

***

Grandma enjoyed her drive, and we dined at Scott's grandma's, and then Emil started coughing and ended up horking up his meal, and almost causing me to lose mine, since I have no stomach for hearing the heaves or cleaning up the mess. It must have been quite unpleasant to listen to us both gagging. Strangely, no one offered to help! Heh.

He's fine. Musta had some post-nasal drip or just caught some cookie in the wrong tube. Sounds like he's considering coming home for the long weekend. Maybe. Oy, you'd think he couldn't wait to get out of here or something.

Stopped in to see Cara's new place (Cara's my niece) and admire it and her two adorable children. Oh, and her fella Chris of course. They've bought this house in Kelvington so will be able to put down some roots to raise their kids.

Warm starry night. Gorgeous. I might just go outside and admire the sky for a while too.

Routine Weekend

Me 'n' Smartypants

More than a week ago I sat here in front of Photobooth and took a picture to post on the day this page was "Blog of Note" and then, in my usual absentminded way, forgot all about it till just now when I happened to run across it.

Five days in a row without rain. This is the first rainfree stretch longer than four days, since May. Unless I'm mistaken— which I probably am.

Everett and I are just back from town, where he did laundry and I picked up Emil and went for groceries.

That's my day: uneventful, routine, and fine with me.

What Everett Made This Week

Fafard Horses Adorn Banks of St. Lawrence River in Quebec City

Read the full story here.

Gorgeous Day

Looking north from the end of our driveway. Yes, some people can combine.



















Looking across the road.



















Looking south. My usual route for walking.



















Looking up, my first sighting of a bald eagle this year.

Last Blooms

Heron in Tree

Usually we see the great blue heron either standing on its flamingo legs in a slough, or flapping slowly away, as herons are shy birds. When I startled this one it flew off and landed in a tree, something I've never seen before.

A Good Time Was Had

Flooded land on both sides of the highway on my way to the WomenOnlyWeekend.

There are so many dead trees out in the water that it's almost eerie driving past.


















Gals chit-chattin on the first night.


















Our host hosted a house concert; these two gals from Vancouver have been touring Western Canada and stopped in to give us a show in the sunroom.

Sara Ciantar and Hilary Grist are their names, should you care to check out their music. We were a small audience, only eight or so, but we bought up lots of their CDs so we assume they went away happy. We certainly enjoyed their show, those talented girly-sues.



















This was the weekend of the pumpkin fest in the hamlet we were in, so there was a parade — one horse-drawn cart that gave rides that passed by the sunroom during the concert.



















While the travelling minstrels packed up, they were serenaded by the house band.


















And on Saturday night, there were fireworks so we strolled over to the community centre and enjoyed the show.


















Of course we had shooters.

And representing the canine contingent was Ebony, the one-eyed wonder:

Blog of Note Today

Wooden glasses. Picked up at a garage sale.

***

Life at Golden Grain Farm is mentioned on the Words of Wisdom webpage (thank you kindly, folks) and I’ve been asked to link to three entries that I consider my best. Heh! Easier said than done, as my entries don’t adhere to themes nor are they given much more thought than what it takes to dash ‘em off and be done with 'em. For readers visiting this page for the first time, I’ve simply chosen three entries that might give a taste of what you’ll find here and that didn't require me to read too far back:

•Sneaky Bugger, in which my sweetheart pulls a fast one.

•The Corn is as High as an Elephant’s Eye, in which, in spite of loss and change, life seems pretty good.

•White Knucklin’, in which I take a drive with Everett, age 17, and offer a glimpse of son Emil, age 21.