Cathy's Closet

A good many of my clothes and shoes are hand-me-downs or purchased at secondhand stores. I don't enjoy shopping, mostly because there is a lot to flip through but little that really grabs my eye. On the rare occasions when I find something I like that actually fits properly, I don't worry about the price. If I love it, it's worth any cost because I'll wear the hell out of it — get my money's worth, as the saying goes. Usually when I go shopping, it's with the intention of finding something in particular and as soon as I find it, I'm done.

My friend Cathy, who lives in Saskatoon, is expert at finding clothing and shoes and coats that are well made and affordable, and her closets and dresser drawers are stuffed. Fortunately for me, she goes through all her sartorial possessions regularly and keeps a pile for me. Inevitably when I go visit her, there is a large black garbage bag for me to rummage through. I pick out items I might wear and try them on in her living room, walking down the hallway to look in the full-length mirror on the end wall. Cathy tugs at the fabric and straightens the collars and smooths the hems, like a tailor. I bring home one or two dozen new-to-me tops and jeans and skirts and jackets, and several pairs of shoes. It's better than Christmas.

Back in my own bedroom, I dump them all on the bed and proceed to try them on again. A second fitting, with a glance into the full-length mirror in my room, helps me to separate the keepers from the give-aways more ruthlessly. Will I actually wear this or would I just be keeping it because maybe, I just might, just in case? I love the colours, but the shirt's a bit uncomfortable in the sleeves. It should go. A brown sweater is always handy, but this one doesn't fit quite right. For each item I keep, one item comes out of my closet and goes into a bag to be donated to the secondhand store in town. Every piece I decide not to keep will go into that same bag. This little exercise also inspires me to give away a whole bunch more stuff that I haven't been wearing.

It's during these trying-on phases of the operation that I notice some extra flab around my waist and think, hm, that can't be good. I need to get back in shape if I want to stay healthy. What to do? I've been a slacker for the past few months, not walking regularly, not doing my yoga. If I don't smarten up, what I see in the mirror is only going to get more frightening.

I decide to start walking in the morning as soon as I get out of bed, instead of waiting till later in the day when it may be too warm or I may be too busy, or till after work when I am too lazy or have supper to make or dishes to do, or it's not high summer so it's getting dark and I shouldn't be on the road with a dog.

So that's what I've been doing since Thursday morning. Walk first, come home to coffee and a slice of toast, some yogurt and an orange: a reward for that vigorous slog. On work days I only walk a mile, as I'm anxious to get to the office. But on my days off, I walk two or three miles before returning to my kitchen for breakfast.

Wish me luck, would you, at keeping this up. My Blondi Blathers alter ego at Stubblejumpers Cafe walks to the lake every morning at six o'clock. I think she's got the right idea and it's high time I followed her example. If I can ever make myself get up that early.

Seen on the drive back to Golden Grain Farm with Reta and Carl.

Here's a link for you, Sandy — if we can consider walking in Wadena to be "urban" walking:
https://www.theguardian.com/cities/2016/jul/29/female-flaneur-women-reclaim-streets?CMP=share_btn_link

By the way, I took three large bags of clothing, some of it Cathy's but most of it mine, to Mallard Industries for their secondhand store. What a good feeling. However, the closet is still too full. Poor old Scott's shirts have been crowded into a third of the length of the rod. What men have to put up with!

 I also put two pairs of sandals into a garbage bag because after 11 years or more, the stitching connecting the leather to the sole has come out and the leather has torn and is not reparable. One pair is the one we girls bought for Aunt Reta after Mom died. We were so grateful to her for coming to care for Mom at the end that we wanted to take her shopping and buy her a wee gift, and sent her home with these. Eventually she couldn’t wear them for some reason and gave them to me. 

The other pair belonged to Mom and they were given to me after she died. Both pairs were Naturalizers; good shoes that I’ve worn a lot in the summers. It was time for them to go, and they had lain for a week on the floor in the porch among a pile of other shoes — one each of several pairs, heaven knows when their matches will turn up - that were going, not to a secondhand store, but to the dump. 

When I put Mom's into the garbage bag, it was with a mournful twinge, a few tears and, to be honest, something that felt like a gentle punch in the stomach.   

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Ralph Goff has left a new comment on your post "Please Stand By": 

Seriously, if the internet quit, I'd probably get a lot more done and not waste so much time doing non essential things. But I would eventually miss not having access to all the information in the world from my laptop. 

I did miss the internet the odd time, but surprisingly a lot less than I expected. It's a change to get used to not having "the world" at your fingertips, but it's nothing I can't live without -- for a few days, anyway. I think if I didn't have it anymore, I'd soon adjust and not miss it at all. Kind of like TV; I'll watch it if it's there, but when it isn't, I know exactly what I'm missing: not much. Lacking internet, I think I'd only miss keeping up with my blogging friends and my emails from Julie, who is such a faithful and interesting letter-writer. 

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Lorna has left a new comment on your post "High Density": 

funny how we can remember the stuff that shames us better than the stuff that ought to lift our wings. 

Isn't that so. Which reminds me, I must write about almost being a shoplifter -- even if I am not, it wouldn't surprise me if the two observers were left wondering!

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High Density

Everyone does dumb things sometimes, right? Things that make you realize you are not nearly as smart as you think you are and as a matter of fact, you can actually be quite dense. It happens to me fairly often; keeps me humble.

Here's one of my fuckups, one that makes me look like a real weasel, but I swear it was just me being oblivious to the way things work in the material world.

This happened about 10 years ago, maybe more. I was driving Scott's half-ton that has one of those toppers on the box so that I didn't feel confident I could see properly to the rear. I'd parked in front of the library and when I went to leave, I backed up and lightly bumped the vehicle behind me. Out I jumped to see if there was any damage. 

Well there was; a headlight was broken. But there was no glass on the ground, so I figured It must have been broken before! and after only a short wait (I had to be someplace, forget where), whence the driver of the other vehicle never came out of a nearby building, I got back into the truck and drove off, assuming it hadn't been me who broken the headlight.

I was about six blocks away when I realized that of course I had broken the headlight, but the glass would have been pushed inside and wouldn't have been on the ground in front! D'uh! I immediately turned around and went back to take responsibility for the headlight and pay for the repairs, but the vehicle was already gone and I had no idea whose it was. 

Man, did I feel like an ass. And still do! And to think that someone may have seen me hit that vehicle, get out to inspect the carnage, and then drive away without waiting for the owner ... they would really think me a weasel, and who could blame them?  

One of these days, I'll tell you about the time I got caught almost-shoplifting ... and had no idea ... this is how rumours get started, I tell ya ... .

I am great-aunt to these three sweeties who had an iced tea stand set up near their home in Kelvington one day a couple weeks ago. Scott and I stopped and bought some, of course, which my niece says they were quite excited about. That's the shadow of the truck we were in as we put in our order. Trea, in the background there, was struggling to set up an umbrella to keep the hot sun off them, and getting no aid from her brothers till finally she got exasperated and said "Can somebody please help me here?!"

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Secret Agent Woman has left a new comment on your post "Please Stand By": 

That bites. I always feel so cut off when I'm internet-less. 

It's a change, that's for sure. What does one do with oneself when one is accustomed to sitting down at the computer with coffee first thing in the morning to check mail? In my case, it helped: I'd decided to do my walking before coffee each day instead of waiting till later, and having no internet made it easier. 

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Teresa has left a new comment on your post "Please Stand By": 

OMG if we had no internet at home. Someone would go absolutely ape shit. Hope you get back online soon. 

We are accustomed to frequent outages that last overnight, so Friday was no big deal. I went to the city on Saturday, came home Monday, and by the time I got home from work on Wednesday we had received the necessary parts in the mail and Scott had the internet up and running again. Yay, Scott! He was probably the one going ape-shit in our house, without the internet. 

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Wisewebwoman has left a new comment on your post "Please Stand By": 

How awful for you but on the positive side I can finally keep pace with you. 

Just the fact that you visit this blog at all is so damn flattering. I mean it.

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Erin Kelly has left a new comment on your post "Mysterious Egg": 

That's a hilarious mix-up! 

And a miracle I hadn't thrown that egg in the garbage before I had things figured out.

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Please Stand By

There has been no internet service at the farm for several days; I'm writing this as I gobble down my lunch at my desk at work. 

We await parts to be shipped out by our server from the city.

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Wisewebwoman has left a new comment on your post "Mysterious Egg": 

I love the picture of your garden ☺

And yuck to vinegar and egg.

No pickled eggs for you, then! It was the fishy flavour that put me off, more than anything.

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Wisewebwoman has left a new comment on your post "Sunny Days": 

I love the language of crows so textured and varied. More interesting than the others though not musical at all. I have so many birds here.

Here too; love it.

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Maggie Turner has left a new comment on your post "Mysterious Egg": 

Oh the joys of sharing a kitchen! How well do I know them! :) 

You said it, sista!

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Secret Agent Woman has left a new comment on your post "Sunny Days": 

I like listening to birds of all kinds. I spent a happy hour watching two cardinals fighting over territory the other day. 

It's a window on a whole other world, isn't it.

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Secret Agent Woman has left a new comment on your post "Mysterious Egg": 

That's funny - don't think I'd want a herring-tinged egg. 

You don't! 

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Lorna has left a new comment on your post "Mysterious Egg": 

I haven't had a herring since 1945. I realized at a young age that I could turn them down and success has followed me since, herring-wise. 

I just had my first taste of pickled herring a few weeks ago. Not bad! but not with eggs, please.

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Mysterious Egg

“Ewww! What the …!”

My first bite of a fried egg is … what is that? Not rotten, but … salty … vinegary … what has my egg lady been feeding her chickens!?

I taste the egg again. Can I eat this? Is something wrong with it? It’s gross! I’ll have to throw it out.

And then I recognize the flavour.
 Scott had come in and eaten some herring from a jar in the fridge. He’d picked up the fork I’d set out while making my breakfast, used it and and put it back on the counter next to my waiting plate … rather than in the sink where it belonged.

Mystery solved. I get a clean fork and finish my fresh farm egg, which is delicious.

Sunny Days

It's my last week of holidays, and I'm enjoying it to the fullest. Not by going places. Not by embarking upon long-delayed projects around the home place. Nope. By sitting out on the step, reading, in between pruning out wilted, finished flower blooms, walking to the end of the driveway (too hot to strike out onto the road), and coming into the house to cool down and get a drink of water. 

Yesterday a bunch of crows started making a racket first thing in the morning, and it continued all day. I sat in the Adirondack chair, looking up from my book occasionally, trying to figure out what they were up to. About a half-dozen of them spent the day cawing and cackling and flitting short distances in the trees on the other side of our dugout, which the back step overlooks. I figure the adults were encouraging the young ones to fly, and yesterday was serious flight practice.

Noisy crow.

Then in the afternoon, the merlins started. 

They have a nest in one of our spruce trees, and I guess it was time for their little ones to get some flight practice in, too. 

Noisy merlin, one of three. Click to enlarge.

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Wisewebwoman has left a new comment on your post "When 'Poor' Women Hire Housekeepers": 

Money well spent. I couldn't live without my Emma. I sacrifice on other stuff for this. Win win.

I couldn't have put it better myself and am looking so forward to my "new friend's" first visit.

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Maggie Turner has left a new comment on your post "Kitty on the Job": 

It has to be a paradise there for a cat accustomed to competing for food with a lot of other cats! 

It's quite likely the other farmyard was all "fished out" so this guy is quite enjoying himself out here at our place, where the rodent population has had some months to multiply.

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Lori has left a new comment on your post "Kitty on the Job": 

We have a few feral cats in our 'hood. They, along with the domestic cats can certainly "wail up" a symphony at night, especially hot summer nights! 

Scott has been talking about bringing a girlfriend over for this tomcat; maybe we're better off without! But we don't want him to get lonesome either.

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Erin Kelly has left a new comment on your post "When 'Poor' Women Hire Housekeepers": 

I think that's a great thing to splurge on! We don't deep clean the house nearly as often and I would love to get a house cleaner in there but Henry is all I CAN DO THIS MYSELF but then pulls the "I'm tired from working" card. Sigh. 

Been there, done that, still do! I am the same way when it comes to doing the dishes after supper -- often just don't feel like it and, to be honest, just as often I don't even think about it! I have to admire those like my mother, sisters, aunts and grandmother, who just do it, it's done -- it's a habit or self-discipline I don't have. 

Paying someone to do the things we don't get around to is a luxury that working-class people rarely allow ourselves. I don't spend much on entertainments like movies at the theatre (we don't have a theatre within 100 miles) or concert-going or travel holidays. I'd rather have the floor washed and the bathroom sanitized, because my home is where I prefer to be, while the entertainments are infrequent luxuries I don't crave. 

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Annette Erickson has left a new comment on your post "Kitty on the Job": 

It's sad when cats get so matted they can no longer care for themselves properly. At least he'll have lots to eat and who knows, he might get friendly. 

Probably when the weather turns cold and the rodents are more difficult to find, he'll be friendly as heck. 

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CrystalChick has left a new comment on your post "Kitty on the Job": 

He has a nice place now to roam free and hunt. :) 

Exactly. It's the life o' Riley for a cat, even if he doesn't have the safety an indoor cat has. And there are no neighbours to complain about him using their flower beds for a litter box! Plus he's shy enough to keep his distance from the house and my flower beds.

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CrystalChick has left a new comment on your post "Family Connections": 

Well how nice to meet a cousin like that. We just got to visit with a cousin (and his wife) from Virginia when they were traveling through on their way north. Just an evening together, but loved every minute of it. 

I bet you did. In my case the meetup was a coincidence, which added to the pleasure of it. 

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Kitty on the Job

"I wonder if he's still around," Scott said, talking about the tomcat he'd brought home and released into the barn. It had been living at someone else's farmyard that was being overrun by cats, while here we had none. 

Although he had allowed Scott to pet him when the cage door was opened, he'd soon dashed into the barn's shadowy regions and that was the last he'd been seen. Scott put food and water out every day, and it seemed to be consumed in part, but the cat didn't come when called, and kept out of sight. 

One night we'd been out somewhere and pulled into the driveway after dark, and there he was; it was my first glimpse of him, scampering away from the headlights and into the bush at the side of the road. 

"You weren't kidding when you said he looks rough," I remarked. The cat is a persian whose hair had clumped up so badly that it looked like he was wearing a saddle slipped down on one side of his body. 

The other morning I caught sight of him across the yard, patiently stalking something in the long grass. The saddle of hair is gone, leaving a patch of bare skin. But he's doing his job, this tomcat: hunting rodents and squirrels, we hope, and not birds and baby rabbits. 

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Lorna has left a new comment on your post "Family Connections": 

I love it that you can meet cousins out of the blue. I am close to most of my cousins but see few of them as we're spread across Canada and the US. We stay close with Facebook, and had stayed close before that because we were willing letter-writers. I cherish them.

I particularly enjoyed hearing his memory of my great-uncle, Uncle Bob, who visited this cousin Don's family regularly when Don was a boy. Uncle Bob used to stop in and have supper, and Don and his siblings would always run out to see if Uncle Bob had brought his guitar along, as he'd be the entertainment for the evening.

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