it is time to fill the wood ring again
for fires to be lit in the late afternoons

there was frost on the ground and the vehicles
at 7:30 this morning

i went with barney to see the youngest kittens
heard him saying
wake up sleepyhead, what’s the matter with you?
and when i got up into the loft had to tell him
its body, still warm, was lifeless

why did that have to happen, mom?
it was my favourite, it liked me the most

maybe it was sick
maybe this, maybe that

you better feed the other two
in case something’s happened to their mom

i took a shovel and he carried the kitten
and a hole was dug next to the garden
and the body laid in it
oh how i hated to cover it with soil and leaves
but that’s what happens, barney said,
comforting me.

then he went out to feed the remaining two kittens
bereaved
some cat food soaked in milk
they promptly dunked themselves into
wet feet

i walked around the outer perimeter of the farmyard
with an orange scarf over my ears
to the horses
talk to them, sing to them, rub their sleek necks,
stroke their long noses

the big belgian gives me a horse hug
then nearly crushes me into the fence as she swings
her huge head over mine

a bald eagle flew over the trees behind them

+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+

email to the travelling minstrel,
who stopped in sunday night:

thank you
for songs spent singing, dancing, and joyful
while drying dishes
as barney washes them

really
i need that
who doesn't

the opening cut
beautiful!
great song

you left your sunglasses
do you want me to mail them

the second song
what do you call that doo doo part
is it the chorus?
anyway, it's a real singalong-er
good workout for the harmony hummer

i have to get one of these CDs for my sister
you met her last time
maybe it will inspire her to sing with me again
(she sings to perform, i don't want to,
i need a singalong-campfire buddy)

best order it from you directly or where?

barney says as we listen to the fourth song
"he sounds like fred penner"
i say what?
he says well, he sings sort of the same songs and sounds a bit like him
hm says i, i'll have to keep an ear open for that

hey that fred, he writes some catchy tunes too!

the sixth is a song i imagine singing
as a lullaby for children
even with 'everything you do is wrong'
because kids feel that way often enough

and the last song on the CD
pretty
'love food' i was singing the first time
ha!

well i'll get this sent
suffice it to say
i am enjoying this new collection
and any singer with whom i always sing along
with such pleasure
is much, much appreciated

breathe deep
smile

kate

5 p.m.

Been home two hours and don’t quite know what to do with myself. Barney and I left at 9 o’clock as Farmbeau’s mom asked me to deliver proclamation posters for the upcoming provincial election. Millie’s the returning officer. So we made a 300-kilometre loop through the tiny towns of Saskatchewan’s countryside, arriving back here at 3 o’clock.

It was a pleasant way to spend the day. Except for having to get out of the vehicle at every stop, because the wind today is icy, icy, icy. I could use a walk, but am not anxious to either freeze my ass or get an earache from the cold. Will have to dress for winter weather if I go out.

I almost stopped once to take a picture of a man herding 100 or more goats toward the secondary highway we were travelling on, but it was too cold out.

And now, home, I don’t feel like starting anything. I don’t know what to make for supper. Farmbeau made another batch of tomato soup, which doesn’t interest me today -- but then, neither does anything else. I ate a fried egg and two slices of toast for breakfast because I knew I had to eat something. I ordered a mushroom burger with fries for lunch at a little café because I had to pick something fast when the cook stood beside our table, but could only eat half of what was on the plate. And still, nothing I can think of preparing excites me at all.

I feel almost depressed, and wonder if this might be an after-effect of the drugs I had to take over the past two or three days to manage recurring neck migraines.

Well, whatever. It might do me good to get out for a walk, and maybe that’s what I should do. But I don’t like to leave when Don’s in the bathtub, in case of a slip and fall, banged head, unconsciousness, risk of drowning. Of course it’s unlikely — he baths every day without help or supervision, getting in and out of the tub independently — but still, I won’t take a chance on no one strong enough to lift him being here if something happens. Shit, I’m barely strong enough to lift him anymore — he’s heavier than I am by 10 pounds — so I don’t assume Barney could do much at his featherweight 100 pounds.

***

Some helpful, paraphrased reminders from Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff in Love:

a) It’s easy to be loving and kind when your partner is being a sweet darling; it’s when he is not (barring destructive or abusive behaviour) that we get a chance to practise walking our ‘high road.’

b) No human is perfect or will be at his best all the time; we’ll all slip up and say or do thoughtless, inconsiderate, even mean and hurtful things. Having a partner who is human means that sometimes we’ll be disappointed and angry. But it doesn’t mean we aren’t loved or that we should give up on the relationship.

Don’s out of the tub, so I’m going for a walk.