One Part Inspiration...

It was a beautiful summer's evening.  My husband and I were inside, happily ensconced in relaxation - tea and goodies in hand.  The quiet evening was interrupted when the dog began barking non-stop.   Neither one of us wanted to move from our respective spots. However, Henrik has a very loud bark and we have small neighbours next door.  They go to bed long before we do.   Finally after several minutes of hoping the barking would stop, I decided to go investigate. I got up and went to the door and reprimanded the dog for his noisy outburst. And then I looked closer. No wonder he was barking!  A blue heron had parked itself on the barn roof, apparently with the intention to catch some of the frogs that were in the newly cleaned-out pond that my husband had dug last year. I called my husband to come, see. Then I ran to get the camera, tip-toed outside and took this picture. The heron didn't move. Then I checked the picture and ...

New Year's Resolutions are always the big topic at this time of year.  I have been thinking about it all week, as the beginning of the year approached and then arrived. It seems everyone is talking about what to do, how to do it, and how they will accomplish all the goals to which they aspire.  Generally the talk is about exercise and diet.  People are interviewed about it and they say they want to be in the best physical condition of their lives.  Then about two months into the year, all sorts of ads appear selling off the treadmills.  Usually there are pictures of the exercise equipment showing coats hanging off the handles, because that is what they default to, after two weeks of not keeping up with the Resolution.  Coat Racks. Radio shows, the TV shows all resort to looking at the way we set ourselves up with Resolutions.  One had a call-in show to 'the doctor' who would give advice about fitness and diet.  A lady called in and complained ...

A few weeks ago, I had a once-in-a-lifetime-event.  It was a side-by-side Swedish massage; shared with a friend of mine who was coming to visit relatives.  She called me from out of province to see if I would be interested in helping her to use up a coupon she'd bought online.  It took me about two seconds to say "I'm in".  Neither one of us knew what we were "In" for. I got a hint when I made the phone call to reserve the date.  Since she didn't live here, it made sense for me to make the arrangements.  I called the number she'd given me.  A man answered. He didn't speak very well English.  I told him what I was calling for and he said " No problem, we can do that for you " and then " When would you like to come? "  I asked if we could have a morning appointment.  He immediately said " No, we don't do massages in the morning. "   " Well when could we come ?"  I asked.  " Can you come in the ...

One of the reasons  I like living on the "wet coast" is that the incidence of a 'snow event' is fairly low and when it arrives, it is usually short-lived. [And by short-lived, I mean it falls one day and is gone the next because the temperature rises, or the rain returns] I would be just as happy never to have another snow day in the rest of my life.  I don't like being cold.  I don't like the idea that the power might go out at any moment.  I don't like the looming possibility of running out of supplies.  I don't like the unpredictability of snow days.  I get anticipatory cabin fever when snow is predicted.  Will it last one day?  Two?  A week?  Will I have to resign myself to being like Laura Ingalls Wilder in Little House on The Prairie ?  For most of my life out here, the meterologists bat fairly low.  Their dire predictions of 'snow events' are not that accurate.  Fearmongering is...

Snow days are like ( sick days) .  Wake up. ( Wake up )  Look outside. ( Swallow ). Evaluate the snow. Is it coming down hard enough to warrant a call to the boss or is it likely to stop in a few minutes?  ( Evaluate ability to swallow - is it a sharp aching pain, or just a "I can muscle through this one" pain ?) Roll over, watch out the window for a few extra minutes.  ( Roll over, try to swallow again.  Put hand up on forehead to see if there is any fever ) Pick up the phone.  Put it down again ( Pick up the phone.  Put it down again ). Ask husband for his opinion.  Consider his opinion.   ( Ask husband to feel forehead to see if he feels the fever ). Wander up to shower.  Look out the window on the way up to see if there's any change in the amount of snow coming down. ( Wander up to shower.  Look in mirror.  Evaluate eyes to see if they look more bloodshot than usual )  Decide that if it isn't any bet...

“One of the secrets of a happy life is continuous small treats.”― Iris Murdoch Small treats do give me much pleasure.   Last week, I went shopping, while waiting for the soccer player to finish his practice.  With the gift card I received for my birthday, and a 50% discount, I bought me some boots for my wardrobe. The last pair I had, were a full size too big for me. These fit me perfectly and I am actually looking forward to wearing skirts to show them off. Or maybe I'll pair them with jeans and swish into the room. I could put on my best pair of dress pants and sashay into work. So many options. It almost makes me want to go to bed early, so I can get up and put on my boots.  I also went garage saleing. This is not an exact art. It requires an open mind, and no sense of direction. Fortunately, I excel in 'no sense of direction' and I'm pretty good at having an open mind - years of garage saleing has taught me that. It's best to have a ru...

While we were on our family holiday, my husband and I had a big discussion about creating memories for our families.  I was conscious of how much money we were going through to live away from home for a few days.  My husband had a different perspective.  He said to me that when we went home, he wanted to look back at the experience and have some memories of what we did as a family, other than attend the wedding - which is what we had originally made the trip for. Once decided we were going to have to spend more money to make this happen, I settled into the job of finding out what we should do.  This took a while.  Our family has an overwhelming need to research EVERY possiblity in the tourist book we got from the restaurant where we ate breakfast.  Bungee jumping.  Parasailing.  Dinner cruise.  Bowling.   Each suggestion was met with a variety of interest levels.  Some were very ...

They are installing new water mains along our street.  The people are very pleasant, and when they see you are turning into your driveway, instead of continuing down the road, they make every effort to scale back the work and let you through. Since we have some room on our driveway, they have used it to dump loads of gravel, park huge excavators, and pile up pipes.  The other morning, I was pulling out of the driveway, and because there were so many workers and big machines to my left, I decided to turn right and go around all the construction. The sun was in my eyes, I was on a bit of an incline and the van sat a little higher than a car.  So,  I drove right into the large hole they had dug, in preparation to install the pipe.  CRUUUNNNNCCHH.  Having got myself into the hole, I realized quickly, that I also had to get myself out of the hole.  I avoided eye contact with anyone and CRUUNNCCHH drove out of the hole, and kept going.  ...

I have written before about how much fun I have had with Craigslist.  We have bought and sold, and found for nothing, all with good success for several years.  Last week, something happened to change my mind. We had advertised an item for sale, and received an email asking if we would take a cheque.  After talking it over with my husband, I agreed to the offer, and sent my address so the cheque could be sent.  Several times after that, the man checked back with me to see if it had arrived, which it did, about a week after he sent it. However, when I opened it up, the amount on the cheque was 58 times the amount I'd asked.  Inserted in the envelope was a typewritten message, with no date or signature, indicating that I must now cash the cheque, and wire the remainder. via Western Union, to a shipper overseas, who would take care of delivery of the "item ".  I was terribly confused by this; having never dealt with this type of transaction before, and deci...

I don't like clothes shopping. You may have guessed that by now. I try to avoid it if I can. I'm allergic to humiliation. There's something about walking into a store, trying to guess my size, and being completely wrong, that gives me hives. One time, I went into a store where they give you numbers to keep track of what you try on. If you decide you don't want something, you have to give it back and they give you another number. And you can't go back out on the floor to see if there's something more appropriate, unless you don't have any numbers left. Already uncomfortable with this system, I ventured into the change room and found that the dress didn't fit. I went back out to the guard lady in the change room, and asked quietly if it came in a larger size. She yelled out to the woman at the other end of the store " SALLY, CAN YOU GET THIS IN A LARGER SIZE?? ?" I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole before she said anythin...

I have become a true native of this region. This is between you and me and the fencepost. It has to remain in "The vault". Don't spill the beans. Deal? O.k. Well, this morning, I had an appointment to get to by 10. Yesterday was a snow day, so there was still lots of snow on the van windshield. And it was mucky out, because immediately following the snow storm, was a rainstorm. Slush abounded. And puddles. Still, I headed out in my shoes. I had boots, but who knows where they ended up? I stepped lightly. But first, I put the garbage can in to the van - and left the door open. It was too big to fit in the van, the way it was, but I didn't want to roll it down the driveway. My feet would get too wet. So I held onto the handle with one hand, and backed out with the other. So far so good. When I put it in drive, I had to look around the large whack of snow still on the windshield. I couldn't find the wiper-brushee thingie - even though I know I have one somewhere. And...

I am wind lagged. It is similar to being jet lagged, only this weariness comes from experiencing a marathon windstorm. For five days, it has been ripping through our prairies like an angry dragon lashing out with a ferocious tail. It barely dies down, when it begins again. It drives the temperature lower, and bites the faces of anyone who dares to step outside. It shows no interest in moving on. I am tired of this five-day temper tantrum. I need a rest! This wind is no whistler. This wind is a rumbler. It begins on the field and flies through the willows, and whips around the evergreens. It shakes the house - as if it had the power to turn the house inside out. I half believe it. Tonight, I came up the driveway, and saw what I thought was great garbage bags of leaves. But it was the sheep taking shelter any way they could; they were leaning up against the house, and the hedge, in a desperate attempt to find the leeward side. I almost joined them. Our neighbours referred to the windstor...

Some lessons are hard-won. Each year at this time, I think of one I learned. It was: " Just because someone asks you to do something, doesn't mean you shoud say yes. " An acquaintance of mine was on some committee for the women's groups at her church. She and I knew each other through the school our kids attended. One day she said rather airily, " Oh Marni, you are artistic. Do you think you could come and teach a craft class for our Christmas celebration day?" Without another thought about what this would mean, I said "Sure." Mostly, I was surprised that someone thought I could do something artistic! It was not a label I had ever attached to myself. My husband is artistic. My kids are artistic. I have siblings who are artistic. I have friends who are artistic. But me? Nope. When it comes to art, I have a few hangups. Mostly they have to do with output. For instance, I usually have to explain to people what it is that I am drawing. Even though I kn...

Finally! A job I can do. All these months, I have walked around The Pokeaway , wielding the odd broom, holding screwdrivers, wrenches, flash lights, and attaching extension cord to the one plug we have in the barn. And now, we are at the point where painting is beginning. I can do that! I am dangerous with a paint extension pole. Walls, ceilings, t-shirts, fingers, hair, - nothing is safe from my reach. As I was painting tonight, I was thinking of the many times I have painted in my life. My earliest recollection of painting was when my Dad told me I could paint the inside of the garage. I have a sneaky suspicion, he let me do the garage, because he was afraid of what I would do to the house, if he let me. At any rate, I donned a beautiful red bandanna and went at it. Grey. Buckets of it. My sister came along and took a black and white photo of me - with a 'Brownie Star Flash' camera. Mostly what you see in the picture is the top of my head and lots of the wall. [She has impr...

We don't have a toilet. So when it comes 'time', much creativity is required. A few days ago, it meant that we went shopping and wandered over to the 'facilities' while we were in the store. As we split to go our separate ways, I remembered another time. My husband had bought a camera, but it wasn't available at the local store. We took a road trip to go and get one held for us at a different store. About five miles away from our destination, the traffic backed up. Every part of the freeway was crowded. And suddenly, I had to go to the bathroom. It seemed to take an eternity to get to the store. By the time we parked, I was completely single-minded. MUST. FIND. BATHROOM. I practically flew from the parking space into the store. I asked where the washroom was, and was pointed in the right direction. As quick as I could, I went in and found R.E.L.I.E.F. When I came out, my husband was standing by the door. "Hey lady", he said. "Next time, use the ...

On the weekend, I was on a roll. First of all, no-one, and I mean no-one, wanted to move the loveseat and rocker which we had brought with us. They had served us well, but it was time to move on. Secondly, the time for moving is looming, and we need to have some things in place in order to survive. One of these would be a place to bathe. We had decided to put in a shower unit upstairs. Although we found and loved one which looked something like this, we weren't quite sure what our budget would allow. So I went on a personal mission to find out what a good second-hand shower unit would cost. I went to several places which had such items. Prices varied, but I felt like I had a better idea what was out there, and so went home to discuss it with my husband. He nodded when I told him the information, and that was about it. Until Saturday. I went on a classified ad site, and found a 'corner shower unit', that was much less than what I had seen. Not only that, it came with...

My Dad has been here visiting working. He offered us "ten working days". He's put in way more hours than that. And I keep telling him not to work so hard, but he is a little stubborn and won't listen. I wonder if he knew what he was in for, when he arrived. Mostly, he's taken on the light work. Nothing major. He tucked in all this insulation - from bits and pieces we'd stacked up in the cubby. Then he insulated the cubby, while he was at it. (He might have to change his name to "Gumby") Lifted layers of flooring from the kitchen. Rescued the floor boards and piled them up. Then pulled up these boards in preparation for the plumbing. You know, little stuff. Nothing strenuous. Every once in a while, he takes a break to go and chase the sheep back into the pasture, where they should be. Then he takes up the shovel/hammer/nail puller again, and away he goes. And every day that he returns to the condo, he repeats the same phrase that my optimistic husb...

The end is near! The end is near! Each day the calendar proclaims this fact. And true to form, for this time of year, life is ramping up. It is a little strange though, not to be involved in any sorts of end-of-year programs, except of course the very exciting GRADUATION! that will be happening. There's no concerts to attend. No awards ceremonies. No recitals. No pool parties, or BBQs. It feels a little strange, not to be marking the calendar up with all manner of wrap ups. But not in a bad way. Just in a different way. A different season. The end of the school year is marking a milestone for me. It is the end of a year-long experiment of working in the school system. I have thoroughly enjoyed being in the midst of all the energy of young kids. And the staff has been extraordinarily kind and patient with me, as I learned the ropes (and changed the ropes course a little bit with my inexperience) And once again, I am in a spot of 'not knowing'. I am not sure what ...

These past few weeks have been This post has been in my draft box for over a week. All I got to was the first sentence and then it was as if my mind just went blank. Or life happened. Or I'm in trouble with my memory again. In any case, these past few weeks have been chocka block full of deadlines and looming tasks. It has taken all that I have to stick to what I find at my hand. I have felt as if I haven't had time to sit and ponder. So in case you are asking: The Pokeaway: In Process. Here's a picture of the front door. Isn't it beautiful? Because of some electrical issues, we had to choose. Either use the light, or drill. Not both. So my job was to hold up my cell phone to provide a little bit of light so my husband could drill, and put the screws in. Of course, the bag of screws which was to come with the door, didn't end up with the door, so it was a mad scramble to go out into the darkness and try and find others which might fit. Coming back in the day time it...