Inside, Outside

Inside: columbine

Outside: gazania

Inside, outside, in again, and back out. Then in. Then out once more. That will be me many times over, since the day is fine and I am no longer "working" at my computer. Only playing!
I'm wearing skimpy clothes and might even just let my skin turn a little brown.
But now, to take over all Everett's jobs ... off I go to give the creatures their breakfast and see if I can find the B batch in the barn.

Hybrid Goose and a Gabfest in Margo

What kind of goose is this? Click to enlarge

Could it be one of those hybrids, a "new breed" resulting from Canada geese mating with snow geese? Everett and I spotted this loner in a slough next to the road on our way home from town one day.

Everett headed off to Edmonton with his Uncle Bum this morning, in the big semi. He loaded it up with game-playing machines and baking supplies he's been stockpiling for a year already so he'll have everything he could possibly need at his dad's, whose kitchen apparently lacks large cooking pots, cookie sheets, bread knives, a cutting board, and so on.

Oh— the reunion!
We got there later than we'd hoped, so only spent about five hours wandering around the rink (the ice is out for the summer of course), yapping and tipping back beers. I caught sight of quite a few longtime acquaintances that I meant to get over and chat with, and then on my way in their direction snagged up with other longtime acquaintances, and never reached my original destination — it was a gabfest, to be sure — so probably could have navigated the social network another five hours and still not greeted everyone. But we left for home before weariness overtook us instead of waiting till after dark and being tired on the drive. It was as well, because I swear I had a touch of a hangover this morning. And I only drank two beer. Friggin' lightweight.

I took the camera but was too busy blabbering to remember to take pictures. Fortunately Cousin Oscar hauled theirs out so I was reminded — but still only got a couple. Tsk. Shouldabin snapping away like crazy. Hope others got some good ones. If you did (Charlotte? Debbie? Cindy? Joanne? Tammy? not sure who's reading this, but if you have any pics to share, email 'em to me, would you? at katiekate AT gmail DOT com), I wouldn't mind putting some up on the page here. Surely some former Margonians who check out this webpage and weren't at the reunion would like to see them.

Well, I must Do. Dishes. 
Yeah, you heard me. Dishes.
No Everett. I will have to re-learn this heinously constant housekeeping task after a year's virtual hiatus.
And finish Sweeping. The. Floor. Oh the humanity!
How will I ever manage? And I'll have to feed the dogs! And shovel their shit off the lawn! and feed the cats! and haul the grocery bags and water jugs into the house by myself!
Thank goodness I've got some time off from work while I get used to this new old reality.
:)

)()()()()()()()(


Much Later (a thunderstorm sent me back from my medicine walk, only 10 minutes into it. Went out feeling brave, came in afraid I might just be stupid):

Check out this mystery in Saskatoon. Maybe you have some good ideas. Have you seen anything like this around the city where you live? Leave the Solitary Spinster a comment if you can help her figure this one out.
Click here.

And now to turn the computer off for its own safety. And go watch the storm from the back step.

Margo is 100 Years Old

lovely lupins

Just realizing that right now, my flower garden contains a lot of pink, in various hues. There is a pink peony ablaze; there are several different pink painted daisies; there are pink columbines; there are pink "pinks." I'm not complaining; just sayin'.

Looks like the shasta daisies are preparing to bloom any day now. Seems early, but what do I know. Plants do what they want and I am never sure what to expect, with one spring's weather so different from the year before.

This weekend my home town is celebrating 100 years since it came into existence. It used to be a bigger and busier place, back in the day, but now is pretty quiet in comparison to my growing-up years, when it had a school from grades 1 to 12 (it now has none) and a bustling Main Street. We're probably lucky if 150 people live there and on the surrounding farms now.

They've planned all kinds of activities, from a parade to two dances to a couple big meals, a talent show and whatnot, and have got 550 people registered to attend. It'll be a real treat to see many of the faces; we're going to the beer gardens this afternoon.

The Margo Hall (left) has been renovated this year

At the bottom of this page there is, among other things, a handy a list of webpages I visit. Today I found a new one: click here and see how Susannah rescues a bee stuck to a rhododendron she has deadheaded. She goes above and beyond the call of duty to help a fellow creature who's gotten himself into a sticky situation. Truly an inspiration... not only for the obvious heart she has, but for knowing what to do! I wouldn't have known where to start and would have been so afraid of hurting the bee accidentally that I might have done very little, or not enough.
And there is lots more good stuff on Susannah's blog. I have to drag myself away from the page or I'll be there a long time (when I really should get my ass in gear). Something tells me I will be checking into Susannah's blog often. Go see!

The B Batch

And Kirsten Cat's spring kittens are . . . left to right . . . Beatrice, Banjo, Birdie, Bimbo and Babette.

Several days ago . . .

Everett: Kirsten’s moved them from the tractor shed attic to the cat house in the tractor shed.
Me: Then I can hold them!
Everett: She won’t like it, she’ll move them again.
Me, steamrolling, reaching for kitten: Oh pooh pooh. . . then why did she put them by the food dish?
Everett: I’m telling you.

Sure enough, the next day they were gone. He found them in a manger in the barn.

Always listen to the Cat Whisperer.

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The ants are picnicking. You can see on the bottom right where they are coming from— an opening under the beatup old countertop. Yesterday there were several dozen. Today their numbers have been decimated. I know they can't be permitted to keep coming into the house, or nesting in the walls, or whatever the hell they're doing, but it feels terrible poisoning them. I can imagine them appreciative of the welcoming repast we've laid out for our guests, only to make their way back to their nests and discover our inhospitable betrayal as they die a gruesome death. Along with their loved ones.

There goes my ant karma. Maybe next year they won't open up the peonies!
Heh. Serve me right.

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Note the ants in the corner while the dishwasher does his bit.

Olfactory Bliss

To step out onto our little deck is to be overwhelmed by the scent of a lilac tree in bloom next to the house. I brought a few sprigs into the bedroom, only to be informed that Scott doesn't like the smell of this particular lilac ... that I adore.

In the yard there are two long rows of lilacs, a different kind, and their blossoms are beginning to fall. It smells like heaven around here.

And yes, I did remove the vase of lilacs. Now I just stand out there and breathe deeply, enjoying it while I still can.

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House still hot this morning; I awoke to all the windows open, and the calling of birds. Lovely lovely lovely. What luxury.
Then, at the kitchen counter for coffee, I met up with big black ants. Mixed up Borax and icing sugar and dumped it in a pile where they are coming in, which is from a hole under the bottom corner where the counter meets the wall. They are digging around in it quite a bit; there are a half-dozen of them, probably more. We have set out the same bait outside the house, where ants are swarming on the wall at one corner. I feel badly, knowing they will die soon and so will all their little friends.

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Check out this entry at Forgotten Bookmarks: click here.
There's a book I'd just love to have a peek into.

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Great Western, Beverage of Choice

Service with a smile at the home of our Rowdy Friends

Here in Saskatchewan, we support our locally owned brewery by drinking Great Western.

K/Cathy Convention

Cathy, Kathy and Cathy

A meetup of former residents of the Luther College girls' dorm also included a Sue, but alas she was behind the camera.

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For the second time in a week I've seen a bald eagle circling our yard; this morning it was as I stood in my housecoat in the garden, awed and oh-so-grateful to see it. But brought Ducky in with me when I came in for breakfast.

Fairies!

Click to enlarge

My babyest sister, Joan, asked her blog readers to participate in a weekly photo challenge. The first theme was "sky," so I went out before a storm to see what my camera would do. Although the clouds all around were shadowy and full of rolling contrast, and scary, and beautiful, none of this shows in the photos I got. What does show, though, are the FAIRIES!!! I didn't notice them while I was outside, but when I uploaded the photos, voila ... apparently they were putting on quite a show for me and I didn't even pay attention. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. They'll soon be playing tricks on me in the flower garden if I don't smarten up.

And now YOU too should go STRAIGHT to Joan's webpage and send her your best sky photos:

Click Here: Weekly Photo Challenge

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My radio alarm goes off around 7 these days and I lie there listening to a CBC Saskatchewan morning show and dozing. As soon as I get up, I head outside to see how the air is. Today it’s cold, too cold to sit out on the step and drink coffee, so instead I went for the piano (which finally was moved over here from the old house, about a month ago). After all, it’s time for Everett to get up too, so I played in my beginner way the “Morning Song” (that’s what I call it, anyway; I've been singing it at the top of my lungs to my kids for years: "It's time to get up! It's time to get up! We're all in our places, with sunshiny faces ... This is the WAY to START a new DAY!")) and then played a few times through the four other simple songs I’m learning to pound out. It is so much fun playing the piano; if I knew more songs, I’d sit there half the day, I’m sure. One thing I do know is that, while I can't play the guitar and sing at the same time, I can do both at the piano. Yippee!!!! Pure joy.

Everett alternates between cursing me for my exuberance, and laughing at me for my exuberance.
Have I mentioned that I love chords? I am in love with chords.
Also, I like to imagine that I could channel my mother's playing-by-ear abilities if I held my mouth just right.

Around

I'm not sure what this is for, but we hoped to bath Casper Doodle in it

Photo taken from the step with zoom function

I'm on the go, no time to write. Emil's closed the door of the van behind himself so I've gotta go.  Off to Margo.

Gets His Hair from his Mother

 
I still haven't figured out how to make my camera-shot videos smaller. It takes 15 to 20  minutes to upload a clip, like either of these, that is less than 10 seconds long. How ridiculous is that? Obviously there is a better way. I just haven't found it yet.

Noisy wind:


It's raining out here again this morning. Not good. It's well past time it stopped.
We're still better off than the folks in the southern part of the province, but if this weather keeps up, may not be for long. My heart goes out to them; it must be a horrible wrench, to have not only to leave your home but to leave behind many precious belongings because they won't fit in your vehicle and/or you've no place to store them while your house is flooded.

If you're lucky, you've got family or close friends who can offer you a place to stay. If you're lucky, you've still got a job; many won't have, as their places of employment are under water or not reachable by road. The farmers down there are really screwed, just as they were here, last year. Any disaster assistance they did get from the government barely made a helpful dint in their financial situation.

The Red Cross is calling for donations to help these people weather the storm. I'm going to make my donation now. It will be small, as I'm going into a summer of unemployment, but I'm still in my home, far more fortunate than many, so I can offer something.  To do the same, click here.

How Do You Start Your Day?

What if my hair stayed this way?

Maybe it does. After a bath I often parade around the house without combing my hair down after tousling it with a towel, and no one says a word. I thought they just weren't noticing, but the truth may be that my head looks this way most mornings.

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This morning I stood (the Adirondack chairs were wet with dew) on the step for the longest time, soaking up the birdsong and deeply inhaling the scent of the lilacs in bloom, watching the ducks take off from and land on the water. Oh the beauty and peace and dazzle of it all. Finally I perched on the edge of a chair; my housecoat's wet bum will dry. I could have sat out there all day, visited by bumblebees and hummingbirds and finches, and so grateful to be exactly where I am.

How do you start your day?

My Own Wayback Machine

Tanya at 50— still the sexiest girl in town

Scott's nephews and their wives planned a surprise party for his sister Tanya's 50th birthday, and her co-workers dressed her up and gave her gag gifts.

***

It's 2:44 pm and I'm re-starting my day. Woke with a migraine threatening, and when being up and around didn't make it go away, took a pill and laid back down. Till two in the afternoon. Now I'm fine, though groggy, and feeling like the day's been wasted. Am trying not to feel that way, telling myself "I must've needed that sleep" and such. Still, I hate sleeping so much of the day away. I still have to work for four hours and go for that brisk walk. With luck, this black coffee I'm sipping on will put me in the mood for both things.

Today is Emil's 23rd birthday. He is celebrating with his roommates, going out for supper at a local restaurant of his choice and then back home for cake from a local bakery. He wasn't home on the weekend but told me his birthday plans over the phone, and I said "Well then next weekend we'll do something together; get another cake or something." His reply was a firm, "Nope. One cake is enough." I still can't quite believe I heard him right; to be sure, though, I did ask him to repeat it.

He would like to go out for a meal with me on Saturday, though, and he knows exactly where, so it's on my calendar. Will Scott or Everett be invited? Not necessarily. Mom is the only one who is really essential, apparently. What a kid.

The thought of having a 23-year-old son sent me into my stack of old journals, looking for one that included the date of my own 23rd birthday. It's a very large stack, and I didn't find that particular one, but did come across one written when I was well into the year following my 23rd birthday. My friend Shelly and I had been travelling around with our 10-speeds after a lazy summer camping at the beach near here. We'd gone to the east coast and picked apples in Nova Scotia, then headed south to the warmer weather:

Oct13, 1982: Gulf of Mexico, warm waves, smooth sand, Galveston, wind, wet, oilless bicycles, a terrible sleep on a balcony overlooking the full moon shining on the water, jellyfish.

Bumper sticker:
Be Prepared! Jesus is coming at any moment. Driver will disappear.

Quote: Experience the experience rather than contemplating the outcome.

Oct.22:
A man in a small craft rows out to where a school of whales is loafing around. He wants to observe. He goes among the babies. Then you see a large whale moving toward him in the water. You think, oh oh! Better try to get to him before it does him in. Instead the whale gives the boat a gentle nudge. This continues until the man and his boat are at a safe distance from the young. — Story from a fella who drove us from Maine to Massachusetts. He's an offshore scallop fisherman. I was touched, to think that whale so wise and gentle; and men actually kill them in droves.

Wednesday morn, Oct28, San Carlos Indian Reservation, Soda Canyon Campground, Arizona: and a lovely, peaceful morning it is! I woke up all soft, toasty warm and cosy snuggled into sleeping bags on a stone picnic table, under a grass-roofed ramada. Bliss! Desert mountains all around, cactus trees, and coffee water heating in the motorhome we travelled the last thousand miles with. There's a clear lake down at the bottom not far away, Fred Murphy's already fishing for bass; there's a little trailer town not 1/4 mile from us, and a pair of fellow campers a few sites over. And here comes a heavy old cow! Been 2 bomber jets flew in and out through our little mountain valley, neat-looking space-age arrows.

Oct29:
Outside of Weatherford the other morning, we sat down at the side of the road to thumb down a ride. It was cold. No one was stopping. Shelly pulled out her crocheting, which Aunt Reta has just taught her when we stayed with them in Shreveport, and I started reading my Discovery magazine. After about an hour this beat-up orange mustang comes barrelling down the shoulder as if to hit us, pulls to a stop and there are three boozing local yokels wanting us to go party and get high with them. We can leave our bikes parked behind a store just down the road. No one is home so we just lean them up and take off. Next morning Tom drives us to pick them up, and they're gone. The storekeeper says he had no idea whose they were but the cops thought we may have been bonked on the head or something, so they took them to the cop shop and went through them.
   The cop goes, "And who's going to claim the marijuana in one of the packs?"
   Shelly and I look at each other. Oh No.
   "What colour are the bikes?"
   Well, that depends now on how much marijuana you found.
   "90 days," he says.
   Well, those look like our bikes, but ...well ... maybe ....
   "I'm gonna forget about those seeds," the officer says.
    Green and silver, they're our bikes, blue and red packs.
Lord we did get a scare. Texas.

Charlotte?

Click to enlarge. Do you know what kind of spider this is?

She was sweeping out her porch and looking for breakfast in the open doorway of the woodshed. She seemed to be taking the web apart even as she made her way around it with a silken thread attached to her behind, and it didn't appear as if her web had trapped any prey. There were bits of straw stuck to it; it's windy here. Always windy.

There is serious flooding in the southern part of the province, and here in the east-central area it continues to rain and the water lies on top of the ground, unabsorbed. Smish smish smish go my shoes when I walk across the grass.

The oriental poppies, bright orange fluffs, may be drooping but the ducks outside my back door don't appear to have noticed anything amiss.

Lessons from Dad

The elusive single Ross's goose is quite shy (and likely lonely, having lost his flock somewhere along the line)

A Few Things I Learned from my dad:

1. When it's necessary, speak up, even if it creates conflict with others. Don't let things slide by, that shouldn't.

2. Be realistic and don't get caught unprepared.

3. Be honest in all your dealings, so you can live with yourself.

4. When it's not your business and you can't control the outcome anyway, keep your mouth shut. You can't run anyone else's life, no matter how much you care and can see that they are making mistakes.

5. When your heart is breaking and you'd rather crawl into a hole and stay there, get out of that bed, keep moving, and don't waste time feeling sorry for yourself. Do what has to be done, even if you're only going through the motions. At least this way you're more likely to come out okay on the other side, rather than with more or other problems.

***

Just talked to Dad. He is spending his day with his sweetheart, Grace, golfing and then barbecuing steaks for supper. And taking phone calls from his grateful and appreciative children and grandchildren. Sounds like a pretty nice Father's Day, to me!

When They Just Don't Get It

You never know what you'll find on Marilyn's webpage, Nag on the Lake. Always something of interest, that's for sure. Thanks, Marilyn!

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Everett says to me last night: “You are too happy. You need a ‘sad’ pill.”
I am strangely flattered by this statement, though he meant it as a complaint, to go along with his “You make a song out of nothing” and so on.
His life is so rough, the people he lives with so irritating!
I’d rather be happy than sad, so this is fine with me.

Two Weeks Notice

Clearance racks at Valda's store on Wadena's main street mean my closet and two (only two! hard to believe) dresser-drawers remain full. Three tops and a knitted dress for about $40. Couldn't pass them up. This was about two weeks ago and I haven't even removed the tags yet. Tsk. Could it be I didn't really need these?

At any rate, this should be the last of my wild and crazy spending for a while, since I'm taking the summer "off" from work, or shall we say, I'm being "given" the summer off. The idea of it is a shock to my system, but not unmanageable; I intend to enjoy the summer weeks to the maximum.

Pretty Pink Flamingos

Grandma Johnson's flamingo vase, against a photo Maggie found on the internet

We had a huge thunderstorm last night while the idiots were rioting in Vancouver. Got nearly an inch of rain and some hail in our yard, but my flowers remain perky this morning except for the petunias. It was the oriental poppies I was worried about, but they're holding up fine:

Aside from my usual morning stroll around the yard to see what's new with the flowers — you never know when one will pop open unexpectedly from one hour to the next, let alone overnight — and after a good rain, to boot — I got a couple slices of toast down and gave Dad a quick call while I was thinking about him. He'll be here again in a week or so for the Margo Centennial celebrations.

Back to work I go.

***
Be sure to check out Joanne's latest entry, here.

Lush and Lovely Days

Can you identify the plant that is snugged in with my hosta?

At 15, Casper still tries to keep up with me when I go for a walk.

Ducky knows we don't like him to chase the cats, so is on best behaviour here.

[Three votes for violets. Thank you!]

Thunderstorm and Dandelions

It's good to see the cattle close by

Darn it! Thunderstorm's coming in, which means a smart person would turn off her computer and unplug it from the wall. Right? Darn it. I'm working, here! Or was, until 10 minutes ago when I took a break to hoe up weeds in one section of the flowerbed.

The large and tidy flowerbeds are surrounded by tall grass and giant dandelions gone to seed. Looks so incongruous -- much like looking in the mirror at my aging face. You have to laugh, and there's not a damn thing you can do about it.
Scott figures now he might as well wait a week or two till the weeds finish their cycle, then hay the field.
Thank goodness we've no next door neighbours, or they'd be feudin' with us.

THUNDER.
This is a good reason to take a long break from work, and just enjoy the storm.

Construction at Margo Lake

Karen's Pad at Margo Lake

Scott prepares the ceiling for paint

How Karen gets her bell rung

Ducky woke me today, for what reason I have no idea, at 8 a.m.
Did he want to go outside? Hell no. Back into his bed he went.
I got up and looked out at a wet world. A nice little rain, just what my flower garden needs, even though I watered yesterday. Rain beats well water, hands down. Betcha there will be new bloomage tomorrow. Maybe the oriental poppies will all spring open! They have multiplied themselves by the umpteen squared, so I'm expecting a fabulous show any day now.

Scott's dad and uncle were headed to BC to visit their brother this morning, so Scott was up at the crack of dawn to get them on the road to the airport. Don't know how he does it — no alarm clock, no watch, just up and at 'er. Looks good on a scaffold too, don't you think? Walks around up there like a mountain goat. I'd have to have one hand holding onto something solid at all times. Even the lower rungs of ladders make me nervous.

Did I mention I saw a moose yesterday while taking my medicine walk? Yeah, me! Usually it's everyone but me who sees them. Although one evening we were driving to my uncle's and I thought "Sure would be nice to see a moose" and decided to peer into the bushes as we passed by, and within moments I saw a big blond moose lying in the trees right next to the road. So there! Look in the bush! Pay attention!

So. Karen's house. This was the first time I was inside. I eagerly anticipate sitting at her kitchen table, looking out over the glittering lake, while we sip on tea and chat. Or better yet, maybe we'll go out and wade in the water.

Karen and Dick have lots of landscaping to do, too.

Karen chats with Michelle, her daughter-in-law (marrying my nephew Marc at the end of the month)