They Know Where I Live

Early in April I decided to get a better grip on my "cash flow" by leaving my credit card at home and relying on actual cash. Each paycheque = so much into the savings account + so much into the chequing account + so much cash in my wallet. Straightforward and simple, it means there is no big credit card bill to pay at the end of the month; I'm not charging up anything, anywhere, that I will have to pay for later. If I run out of cash before the next payday, then I just wait a little longer to buy certain things. 

This has meant quite often passing things by that I would formerly have purchased. I skip some of the shopping/browsing I might normally have done. Instead of having/doing whatever I want right now and to hell with the size of the bill in a couple weeks, I wait till the next budgeted cash infusion. It's been an education, as I believed I'd always been at least a little bit frugal. I could and did pay off my credit card bill every month, but it was always a shock to my system to see the amount due. Small purchases really add up.

Anyway ... I'm getting to it, I'm getting to it ... the reason I started talking about this ... is that one of the reasons a handy credit card got to be a habit was that any time you ran out of cash, you had credit. Right? And now I don't have that convenience because my card is not with me. So yesterday morning I had no money but grabbed $25 of Scott's off the kitchen table before leaving for work and left him a note: "I'll pick up some beer." He's been in the field, cultivating I believe, for several long days and doesn't get into town so I thought he'd appreciate the gesture. 

And what do you think happened at the liquor board store? Yep. With one customer ahead of me and one in line behind, it occurred to me to wonder whether the box of beer in my hand might cost more than $25. I've never paid attention before; just grab what I want, tender the card, and bob's yer uncle. Who cares? I want it, I buy it. But this time, I was chagrined to be told at the counter that the beer would be more than $32. 

And this is the beauty of where I live: the guy next to me started fishing in his wallet, and so did a clerk. They'd lend me whatever I needed, they said. 

Yeah, yeah: they know where I live. But still ... it was just so very ... I don't know ... civilized! Like — like having brothers and sisters or old schoolbuddies everywhere you go. I gratefully accepted a loan of $10 and the beer is chilling in our fridge right now.  

I scrounged up 10 bucks and went to town this afternoon to repay her. No need to rush, she'd said, but I couldn't help thinking maybe I'd caused her to short her own cash supply! You never know. It does seem that everyone is using credit cards, because no one at the store yesterday was sure they'd have $10 cash to lend me. They all had to look into their wallets and see.

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Lorna has left a new comment on your post "Life at Golden Grain Farm": 

Peace in the kingdom is gorgeous! 

These images inspired me to tack them up in the 'relationships' bagua of our house to represent me and Scott.

Life at Golden Grain Farm

... On a good day, that is ... when there is peace in the kingdom:

The pages for two months from Llewellyn's Witches' Calendar

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Lorna has left a new comment on your post "The Other Side of 60": 

You have the most amazing people within your blogging companions. 

This is true! I count you among them. 

The Other Side of 60

Where on Earth did I first discover Wise Web Woman? At the moment I've no idea. I only know that when I see she has updated, I'm there reading, right now. Why? Because she's a fabulous writer, of course, but that's not all. It takes more than authorial skill to keep my wandering attention. But what is it? It's so difficult to describe what it is about someone's internet presence that grabs and keeps me. Maybe it's because she lives in Newfoundland, a place I've never been, and so I get to see it and its people vicariously. Maybe it's because she's an Irish immigrant and I imagine hearing the Irish in her voice when she writes. Maybe it's because she's had an eventful life and my favourite writing is autobiographical and Wise Web Woman has a lot to say. Other than that, maybe part of it is that Wise Web Woman seems like a kindred spirit. I mean, when I read her answer to Question #5, I thought: That's very similar to my idea of the holiday I hope to take before I die! You know, there are some people who, when they write, make you feel like you could knock on their kitchen door and sit right down and have coffee with them for an hour — every day. That's Wise Web Woman for me, and here are her answers to my 5 questions:

1. What flowers, if any, will you plant this spring?

None, soil poor I am alive with forget-me-nots and dog-roses which delight me. All over the meadow. I did plant lupines 2 years ago.

2. Do you have a #1 must-see, can't-wait-till-later blog right now (not a relative or close friend, though it can be themed and does not have to be a personal blog; of course, my blog is disqualified so my feelings cannot be hurt -- hee!), and why does it keep you coming back for more?  

Ok apart from yours? It would have to be "Going Gently". http://disasterfilm.blogspot.ca - life in a small village, animal lover, small farm, good cook, emergency room nurse, gossipy.

3. What are your other common stopping places on the Internet? Please list up to five and give me their urls. I'm sure you've got at least that many. 

(1) Hattie always good politically and ceramically (!) http://hattie.typepad.com/hatties_web (2) Time Goes By - brilliant on the aging process http://www.timegoesby.net/ (3) Yarn Harlot - what can I say, I love her and her knitting and her books http://www.yarnharlot.ca (4) Arts & Letters Daily http://www.aldaily.com/ (5) My journey to mindfulness - gentle musings from an 80+ lady whom I adore. + various political, newsy stuff.

4. When you go to a potluck meal, do you have a best dish that you usually take? If so, what is it and do you share your recipe? If so, please do.

My potluck can be chili, Irish lasagna, an orange chicken thingie on a rice bed. None of which I've written down but I will oh hang on - here's my chili recipe : http://wisewebwoman.blogspot.ca/search?q=chili

5. What's your idea of a fabulous holiday? Is it one you have already taken, or one you hope to take before you die?

My ideal holiday would be to go off with 3 or 4 good friends, rent a house for a month in New Mexico or Portugal - in February - and everyone have sketchpads and crafts and a laptop for writing and have a 4 hour dinner every night in candlelight and talk about our days.

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Go and bookmark THE OTHER SIDE OF SIXTY for yourself.
And WWW, thank you for these great-looking links! I'll be checking them out, for sure, as soon as we get a rainy Sunday morning here.

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Maggie Turner on "Ugliest Ashtray Contest": 

Kate, I had one that rivals your specimen, but it is gone, and in a way I'm glad, because I made it myself. Not all creative efforts result in beauty, but I had to find that out for myself. That ashtray is resting somewhere in someone's home, or in a landfill site. 

Beauty and ugliness are both in the eye of the beholder, but let's face it, the beholder's tastes change. In my twenties I bought my mother a set of ceramic mugs and matching coffee pot that I thought were the most beautiful works of art. Twenty years later I could not figure out why I ever thought they were worthy of my mother's kitchen. UG. LY.

Ugliest Ashtray Contest

When I bought my little camper, it came with some pots and pans and dishes and this, the ugliest ashtray in the world. It's so ugly that I haven't been able to part with it. I figure there must be an Ugliest Ashtray contest somewhere, someday, and I have the perfect entry!

If you have an ashtray that can top this one for pure disgustability, please send a photo.

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Maggie Turner on "It Begins": 

Your farm is so different than the farm I grew up on Kate! We were in Niagara and grew tender fruit, very labour intensive from March until the snow flew, then nothing. Tender fruit needed all kinds of specialized attention, each type of fruit had its own demands. We didn't have any field crops, crops that could be harvested with a tractor, everything was hand picked, and packed. There were a few tasks that a tractor could do, harrowing the vineyard rows. I love seeing how your farm works! 

It's an education for me too, actually. I never worked on a farm, though I lived on one as a teenager. We had livestock for only two years, I think, and I only had to put the ducks in at night. I don't remember any other chores. It's interesting to see close-up how things are done, especially on an organic farm where they treat illnesses (in cattle or soil or crops) in a different way than conventional farmers do.

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Maggie Turner on "Let's Go to Kelvington": 

That is an incredible picture of Scott and his Grandma! 

He goes up to Kelvington every second Saturday to make supper and eat with her, taking turns with the rest of the family so that Grandma doesn't have to cook anymore. I hadn't gone along for quite a while, so this visit was long overdue.

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Maggie Turner on y"Tealites from Thailand": 

That is a wonderful thing, that the ticks carrying Lyme disease are not in your area! They are in our area, although I haven't seen any, I'm not sure I would recognize them if I saw them. We are using permethrin sprayed clothing, and wearing high rubber boots when walking around in the bush, and we are hoping that will work. But in your hair you say! How do they get up that high, I thought they hung out in the grass, so much for that bit of misinformation. 

 I walked under the trees a couple times, but wasn't in long grass. At least, never for long. A person passes through once in a while. 

I had repellent oils on my shoes and socks and hands and neck, etc., and in my hair! and wore long sleeves and had my jeans tucked into my socks. I also had a hat on part of the time.

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Lorna on "Tealites from Thailand": 

Those are lovely tea light holders. Even though I claim to not be an animal person, I find joy in so much animal-related art.

I still can't imagine what life on a farm can be like---I only know I have none of the skills that would help. 

I don't do any farming, Lorna, so can take no credit for skills, whatsoever. I'm just in the fortunate position of being able to live on a farm without having to grow the crops or feed the livestock. Occasionally at seeding or harvest time when Scott starts early and goes late, I whip up a meal to take to the field if it dawns on me that he might be starving out there, and usually find out that he planned to be home in half an hour so it wasn't necessary. 

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Tealites from Thailand

Our kids got home safely from Asia and brought us this lovely set of tealite candle-holders from Thailand. Gunnar was in Wynyard this past weekend for a funeral on the other side of his family, and Scott and his mom drove over to have breakfast with him on Sunday.

Yesterday I had to run to town on business and then, once out and around, figured I might as well zip over to Karen's at Margo. She had one of her little granddaughters there so I got to see them both. We will have a newborn added to the family next week; can't wait to hold the wee darling!

It was one of those days when it's hot in the sun and cool when the sun goes behind a cloud. So when the yard was shady, I went out and pulled weeds and quackgrass from the perennial bed, and when it was sunbeaten, I stayed in and washed dishes and worked a little on the computer. By suppertime all I wanted to do was take a nap, so that's what I did as soon as I could permit myself to lie down.

It was an early night, that's for sure, and I fell asleep listening to the wild exuberance of bird calls just outside the bedroom window. The soras have returned, and they are the loudest of all at this time as I guess they are doing their courting. I keep saying it sounds like a jungle out there, and yesterday there was a call I could've sworn came from a monkey! Also, I've identified one pair of the ducks on our dugout as Lesser Scaups. Thank goodness for the Birds of Saskatchewan book that my friend and mother-in-law Pat gave me when I moved back to this province.

Today's an actual hot one. I've got the sprinkler running over the flowerbed and will be moving it around all day to water the front lawn. I'll be working at the computer. I'll be baking bread and, of course, washing dishes. Scott's out in the field, cultivating. I didn't see him at all yesterday except for when he brought me the last cup of bitter coffee from the pot before bolting from the house. It got me out of bed so was much appreciated. And I was asleep when he came home at dark.

I did, alas, find two woodticks in my hair yesterday and they had both already bitten into my scalp. Little bastards. And they are hard to discover; I had been checking quite carefully, I thought, and been faithfully applying essential oil repellants to my neck and ears and even my scalp - right about where the little bastards had settled in to make a snack of me. "Those don't work," a couple people said, to which I could only reply that we don't know how many ticks I'd've found had I not slathered myself with the oils. However, the oils are obviously not foolproof. Dammit. Today I have two itchy lumps on my head where the ticks bit.

Last week there was an "expert" on CBC radio, talking about ticks, and she said that here in Saskatchewan we are fortunate that the kind we have are dog ticks, not the kind that spread lyme disease. I hope she is correct, because every year I get tick bites no matter what I do, and usually end up taking a round of antibiotics because of infection from them.

Let's Go to Kelvington

Our tour to Kelvington included a stop at the Co-op store, where we ran into my great-nephew and his dad.

We couldn't pass by the liquor board store without picking up some beer.

Scott's grandma, 107, and Scott, 56. Supper was bean and bacon soup, and pudding.

Then we went to the nursing home and Scott showed his dad some pictures on his phone.

And a couple tick-laden moose on the way home. Click to enlarge. 

It Begins

What should we do next; the brothers take a breather and share their thoughts. 

It's time to bring some cattle over to our place; Scott is carrying stakes for an electric fence.

A mile north of our place is this farmer happy to be in the field.

Synchronicity & Dogs

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Maggie Turner on "Me & Merja": 

Kate, when a series of events like the ones you describe occur, it makes me wonder about the invisible forces that swirl around us, connecting us all in unseen ways. By the way, Attila's father was 100% Finnish, born in Canada, Attila is only 50% Finnish, born in Canada. 

The word for such events, though I neglected to use it, is "synchronicity: The simultaneous occurrence of events which appear significantly related but have no discernible connections."

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Wisewebwoman on "Me & Merja": 

Interesting this. I thought of my Finnish tennis partner when I read this and all the stories she had in the locker room. Trimmest woman ever, could bounce pennies off her abs. Died of cancer. Smoker. Yeah and tennis player. Singles.

I hadn't thought of her in years.

How some people haunt us - like your friend. Nice you could do help the relative out.

Yes it was a real pleasure.

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Wisewebwoman has left a new comment on your post "Me and Ducky Doodle": 

OMG I howled reading this. When I had Chelsea she was forbidden to go on my bed. I had to back to house one morning about 5 mins after I left and I found her literally surfing the duvet. I think it is the smell they're after. They do adore us you know.

They do, which is so sweet.

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Me & Merja

When I was 11 years old and growing up in Margo, a neighbour girl the same age died after a long illness. Her last name was Hanchuk and all these years later I remember her in the month of her passing. On Wednesday morning I was thinking of her. It put me back in her little bedroom, sat at a wee table with her, tying toothpicks into bundles of 10 for use in arithmetic class.

Later that day I overheard that a man whose surname is Hietala has died. He was from my home town and now lived in Wadena. Occasionally I saw him at the café and said hello in passing.

That night I checked my email and found a letter from a woman in Finland. In searching for her relatives who had emigrated to the Margo area in the early 1900s, she had come across my blog and seen photos of the town.

Their surnames?
Hanchuk and Hietala.

I didn't even know those two families were related.

So. Nothing intuitive about this coincidence. No psychic abilities reflected here. It's just one of those coincidences that makes me quizzical, in a pleasant way, as if it's a sign that I'm right at a certain spot in my life that I'm meant to be. Like a reassurance.

This morning I found the Hanchuk and Hietala family histories in the book and scanned them for their Finnish cousin, Merja.

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Ralph Goff has left a new comment on your post "Kaddidly Hop": 

Reminiscent of "Clem Kadiddlehopper", a tv character I used to watch as a kid. Was it Red Skelton or was it one of Gordie Tapp's characters on Country Hoedown? I guess I need to look it up now. 

I remember Clem too. Thought Red Skelton was the best! 

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Me and Ducky Doodle

There is a certain dog that has to be where the people are. He will follow you from room to room until you sit down; he wants to know where you're going to be, before he settles himself in. He has a bed in just about every room of the house.

During the days I'm at work, he is home alone all day. We leave the radio on for him, and we hurry back, not liking leaving him alone so long. He's a people dog. Well, they all are, aren't they. What have we done to deserve this affection and loyalty from dogs? We are fortunate. 

One day Scott returned and found Ducky on the bed — he is not supposed to be on the furniture at all unless he's on our laps or has been invited, and he is definitely not allowed on the beds — and not only on the bed, but curled up on my pillow! Little hairy smelly bugger. I make a point, now, of closing the bedroom door before I leave in the morning.

Yesterday while getting ready to go out the door, I came back into the office and found:

Mom gave me the Kenko seat, which is lined with magnets and getting worn out.

He is incorrigible. 

Have you seen that video where the dog's owner leaves a camera set up and as soon as he exits, the dog starts leaping around on the bed where it is not allowed? 

This reminds me of that. 

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Maggie Turner has left a new comment on your post "Oh Honestly Erin": 

Erin says the kinds of things I wish I could have said when my kids were growing up!! What fun! 

I wish I could've said them half so well as she does!

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Sharyn Mallow Woerz on "Kaddidly Hop": 

Red Skelton did this on his TV show. A little hop and a jangle of a cow bell. He'd always try to get the off-camera bell jingler off guard.. I too do it occasionally. 

Right you are! I remember that, being a big Red Skelton fan as I was growing up.

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Kaddidly Hop

One of Grandpa Benson's quirks that I have inherited is the occasional desire to do a joyful little kadiddly-hop dance as I make my way across a room.
I remember him doing it sometimes when he was walking to the kitchen at their house in Margo. He was just feeling good, man!
Not his words, but it was clear.
And I catch myself at work on the verge of doing it, and damper myself down, just as I do with my habitual humming and singing so as not to annoy my co-workers.
I'm such a nerdling.

Scott was at the kitchen table when I got up this morning, filling in the farm census form. 

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Lorna on "Whose Path is This?": 

Well Kate, in case you didn't know, you matter to me. 

Awwww, thanks, Lorna! I'm pretty darn fond of you too.

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Erin on "Oh Honestly Erin": 

 Your words genuinely made me tear up at work -- thank you! I'm really glad that I can make you laugh out loud. And thank you again for including me in this. It means a lot! Thank you for the sweet words! It was an honor to be included in this. Love you! <3 nbsp="" p="">

You have a rightful place on my Top Five list, Erin.

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Lorna on "Oh Honestly Erin": 

It's easy to see the appeal in her work---in fact, it doesn't read like work; it reads like over the fence. Good choice! 

I've no doubt you'd get as much of a kick out of Erin (and Henry!) as I do.

Oh Honestly Erin

How did I find Erin's blog? I don't remember, but I know it was the title that grabbed my attention and made me follow the link to her webpage. Her sense of humour pulled me in before I even got started reading her witty outpourings.

Erin is a lot younger than I am, and blogs written by people this much younger rarely speak to me for long, even when their authors write as well as Erin does. I've "been there, done that" and in most cases am not intrigued in the least by the way they experience their days and approach their challenges. I'm well past their stage of life and am looking for different insights, for intelligence that touches me where I am now or where I am going.

Erin and I don't have the same interests. We don't like the same music. We don't spend our time in any of the same ways. But Erin is one of the few writers who consistently makes me laugh out loud. OUT LOUD. That is beyond valuable to me. It delights and uplifts. And this is why I read — why I read anything at all outside of the work essentials. It's not for education, it's not for connection; it's for pleasure.

Also, I'm a huge fan of Erin's fella, Henry. The way she characterizes the longsuffering Henry cracks me up; I am dreaming of her biography about him, because it will be a laugh a minute. She teases him mercilessly and he hangs in there, taking care of business, sensible, solid and strong.  He might just be the grownup in the family (of course you know, Erin, that I'm teasing here), while Erin is the one chasing down the fun and making everyone's lives more interesting. Every grownup needs someone like Erin, and every Wild Child like Erin needs someone like Henry in her corner!

Go see for yourself. Erin's answers to my questions are below, followed by the link to her page.

1. What flowers, if any, will you plant this spring?
Every spring I start haranguing Henry about planting a garden and he always gives me some monotoned, canned response about how we "don't have room" and "[something something] sunlight" which basically just means, "Please don't give me more work, I just want to nap." However, I'm really into succulents so I will definitely be adding to my house plant collection. I'd like to get some large potted cacti!

2. Do you have a #1 must-see, can't-wait-till-later blog right now (not a relative or close friend, though it can be themed and does not have to be a personal blog; of course, my blog is disqualified so my feelings cannot be hurt -- hee!), and why does it keep you coming back for more? 
Aside from a handful of friends' blogs (yours included!) I really don't read many other blogs. I always check out a few music websites though, Absolute Punk being my favorite (wait---they recently changed their name to Chorus.fm but it'll always be Absolute Punk in my heart). I used to really enjoy A Beautiful Mess because they had some good DIYs that I would assign to Henry (lol) but now they kind of get on my nerves so when I do check in, I usually just skim and leave.

3. What are your other common stopping places on the Internet? Please list up to five and give me their urls. I'm sure you've got at least that many. 
Http://chorus.fm
http://gomiblog.com
Http://Altpress.com
Http://Stereogum.com
http://substreammagazine.com
I'm boring and mostly just read music reviews!

4. When you go to a potluck meal, do you have a best dish that you usually take? If so, what is it and do you share your recipe? If so, please do.
I do this really annoying thing to Henry every time my department has a potluck, where I find some overly complicated//hipster-approved//vegan//78-step recipe written in French that has an ingredient list that rivals the amount of our monthly cable bill, and I say, "Here, you have to make this for a thing that you weren't invited to." Also, I usually wait until the night before to tell him this. He made a honey lavender pie once that was a huge hit, the recipe for it can be found here: http://thebakingbird.com/pie/salted-lavender-honey-pie/

5. What's your idea of a fabulous holiday? Is it one you have already taken, or one you hope to take before you die?
I'm a go-go-go type of traveler so beach vacations are usually lost on me. Actually, as I'm typing this, my family and I are on our way home from a week in Orlando, FL, where we spent two days at Disney and three days at Universal Studios. My son and I are huge theme park lovers (Henry spends a lot of time holding my purse and sitting on benches) so this was an Erin-approved vacation. I also enjoy road-tripping/traveling for concerts. We'll be going to Michigan next month for Bled Fest, Maryland a month later for the Cure (whom I've also traveled to Australia to see because they're my #1 band forever!), and hopefully in September we'll be going to Chicago for our third Riot Fest. I love music festivals and to me, that's the equivalent of a fancy spa retreat --- it soothes my souls and recharges me!

My dream vacation though is Romania. I'm determined to get there someday even though I have developed a crippling fear of flying in my older age.

I hope these answers are good enough! Please excuse any typos -- typing on my phone in the car is not ideal but I wanted to get these back to you sooner rather than later. Thanks again for including me!

http://www.ohhonestlyerin.com/

Whose Path is This?

This is the last of the dry brown photos for this season. (You're welcome!) The leaves started coming out last week and since we have had rain that started yesterday, the green things are really cookin' out there. Soon the bush will be filled in and it will be more difficult to see these well-hidden paths that the wildlife use.

Click to enlarge

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Maggie Turner on "Missing Monte": 

Monte's Road is interesting, as I think of where you live as perfectly flat! Those beaver dams, they were a real issue for my Grandpa in the north, flooded fields. The beavers sure work fast! 

Most people picture Saskatchewan as flat and, granted, there is plenty of flat land, especially further south in the province. Where I live, the land undulates. How to describe it? It's flattish overall, but when you look more closely you see that it's not really flat. 

People who come here from B.C., for instance, don't seem to notice that. To them it looks flat — which makes some sense, in comparison to places that have mountains and serious hills. Considering that most people who travel through Saskatchewan use Highway #1, the TransCanada, which cuts across the flat fields in the south, one can't blame them for not knowing that the geography across the province is varied. We have the Cypress Hills, the Qu'Appelle Valley, the Moose Mountains — gorgeous gentle valleys — and much more. Not far north of here is the beginning of the tree line, and not far from there are forests and rocks and lakes galore.

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Wisewebwoman on "Missing Monte": 

Monte's Road threw me back about twenty odd years, I would walk such a road with my friend Burt who died, oh 15 maybe years ago now. Burt thought he was invisible too, he so very wasn't. Like Monte.

XO

WWW 

Maybe it's not unusual to think we don't matter much to other people. Maybe lots of times, too, we don't realize how much another person matters to us until we are losing or have lost them. 

Missing Monte

We were parked down by Monte's place while Scott did what he could to take apart a beaver dam one evening.

This past January was two years since our friend and neighbour Monte died suddenly. He worked for a farmer just north of our place, and often drove past me when he was on his way to or from the field or the shop where they worked on machinery, repairing or getting it field-ready. When Monte wasn't in a hurry, he'd stop and chat for a few minutes. We'd known each other since we were teenagers; and Monte and Scott had been neighbours and friends since they were little boys. 

One time Monte said, "No one would miss me if I was gone tomorrow."

"That's not true, Monte!" I told him.

And it isn't true, either. We think of him often and we do miss him.

Monte's road; click to enlarge.

The dam is about two feet high.

Scott got the water flowing, but by early next morning the beavers had it dammed up again.

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Wisewebwoman has left a new comment on your post "Lost Day": 

I just had one myself, a bad attack of IBS when I was planning on shopping for groceries and urgencies. Slept 3 hours solid in the afternoon, unplanned days off, feel much better now and hope you do too, so sorry you missed the theatah.

Yep, right back to normal the next morning. It's good to be alive and feeling normal, ain't it?  Glad you've improved too.

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Annette Erickson has left a new comment on your post "Lost Day": 

It is beautiful and your pic shows it. I have a good idea of the sound effects so I can hear them just by looking at the picture. 

I just love it. Sounds like being in the jungle!  No monkeys screeching, no lions roaring, no elephants trumpeting, but so many different birds ... not to mention the frogs ... it's quite heavenly.

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Teresa has left a new comment on your post "Lost Day": 

Sorry to hear of your troubles and missing out on the fun. Hope you are feeling better. 

Good as new. Well, almost. Woke up "neckish" this morning (Mon.) but it looks like it's going to smarten up. Fingers crossed.

Lost Day

Yesterday was an unpleasant waste — the usual affliction that often tends to hit me on Saturdays — why is that, I wonder? Is it because I've just spent three days in an office chair?  As usual, I'm never sure I have the real answer.

I laid on the couch most of the day, where I could hear the TV, and later when I moved to the bedroom was when I almost fell asleep and started feeling, if not 100%, at least as if I wasn't suffering anymore.

At about 5 o'clock I felt hungry as opposed to nauseated at the thought of food. A good sign, I figured. Maybe I'd nibble on some sausage and crackers, make a speedy recovery, and have time to get ready to go to the dinner theatre we had tickets for.

It was not to be. I missed our evening out, watching Scott's brother Bruce onstage in a musical comedy put on by the local theatre group. While amateur theatre in my experience tends to drag a little, being a musical adds life to a show, and I would have enjoyed at least the musical parts of it. As it was, my ticket went to waste.

Down the road with Scott one evening while he dug out part of a beaver dam. Click image to enlarge. Looking at it small does't do it justice. It was beautiful out there. I said to Scott at least twice, "Man, we are lucky to live here." I guess my snapshots don't do it justice; not least because you don't get the sound effects! The birds are a glory these days.

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Maggie Turner has left a new comment on your post "Prairie Chicken": 

Thanks for the pics of the prairie chicken, they remind me of partridges which abounded around my Granny and Grandpa's house, and we had many a meal. My Grandparent's always ate their own meat, mostly wild game, and Grandpa butchered it all himself. It sure gave us a healthy respect for what was involved in putting meat on the table. I am not a big meat eater, I owe to the family hunters Grandpa and my Dad, and eating our beloved cow Maybelle on the farm where I grew up. I really don't know how people raise an animal with a name and personality, and then eat it, baffling. 

Yes, that part is difficult to understand. Farm kids go through the experience early — of raising an animal and then having to sell it or let it be butchered. Scott still has a hard time with that because some of their cattle are quite tame and many are like pets ... they like to be scratched, and they have names and definite personalities.

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Wisewebwoman has left a new comment on your post "Mulie Mama": 

She's a wee beauty, I hope she finds a good birthing spot. And a doulah. A good doulah.

And I hope she doesn't like the taste of my flowers!

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Lorna has left a new comment on your post "Mulie Mama": 

Happy Mother's Day.

Thanks, Lorna. Same to you! 

We're just about to take Scott's mom out for lunch before stopping at a family greenhouse to pick up a thing or two, though I'm cutting seriously back on annuals this year. I swear, I am. 

 I'm starving! Two inches of farmer's sausage (yuk; but it was handy) and a fistful of soda crackers for supper last night just didn't cut it. I didn't have the energy to prepare anything properly, and Scott was going out for supper, and had just come home to clean up and go out the door to the dinner theatre show, so I was on my own.