Before I even moved in, I wanted this chaise longue dragged out of the large master bedroom and into the dining room. Karen and I manoeuvred the kitchen table out of the carpeted dining-room corner and into the lino-floored kitchen, and Joan and her husband Gary carried the chaise longue out of the bedroom, and voila, a cosy bright corner where I lounge and read.

Yesterday we went out and bought Everett a couple little fishies, so the fishbowl now sits on the unused woodstove in the living room. There is water, reflection, and movement! Good feng shui.

He was buying the fish himself, but didn't have his money with him so I paid the $16 and instead of taking his cash, said, "You didn't collect your allowance on the past two Sundays, so why don't I just keep it and we'll call it square?"

"I would still owe you $4," he said.

"Oh; I'm giving you a raise to $7 a week and I'll throw in the extra $2."

"Another raise! You're giving us a raise every year?"

"Yep."

It is so easy to thrill that child.

I have driven him to his bus stop this morning, come home, got a message from Karen, driven the seven minutes to Joan's to deliver Karen's cookie sheets — she's over there baking buns, apple crisp, and cinnamon buns today while babysitting our niece — and now am waiting for Emil to finish brushing his teeth so we can go over to Mom and Dad's.

They've been to the hospital for tests already and are waiting at home for the results. Mom called and said her cousin and his wife are arriving tomorrow from Saskatchewan, so it would be nice to see me today. I kind of figured that anyway so in the back of my mind I was waiting for her request.

Hard to get to sleep last night. Last time I was tearful over what seemed to be a molehill, and was scolding myself for overreacting, it turned out that things were much more serious than we knew. That's what I am afraid of, I guess — that my unconscious knows more this time, too.

Fingers crossed.

Another beautiful day here in the Okanagan. While Edmonton has had a dump of snow that has broken branches and split trees around the city ("It was like driving through a war zone when I went to work this morning," Gord said), and Saskatchewan has had snow and hail and freezing during the night, here in Kelowna it is warm with a slight breeze.

I hope Mom and Dad's condo is not too warm; maybe I can whip up a few meals for freezing while I'm there.

Well, Emil's got his braces and shoes on and is on the way across the deck to the van. "Are you coming right away, Mom?" he asks, making sure he won't be sitting too long, waiting.

"I'll be out there as soon as you're in the van," I promised.

And so away I must go.

So. We're into the new place. I have wine. I have cable TV. I have my computer hooked up. I have a very comfy queensize bed, though I wake up at the slightest sound during the night, nervous.

I remind myself that there is a very nice man living right upstairs; should an intruder cause me to need to call out for help, my new friend would surely hear me and come to the rescue.

Everett is in school, but having much difficulty catching the right buses. The walk to pickup and dropoff points is ridiculous (1.4 km for one, 2 km for the other), on dangerous roads too, so I am driving him to the bus stops both morning and afternoon.

They still haven't hired an aide for Emil so he is home with me, sleeping in till 10:00 and spending the rest of the day listening to his CDs in the bedroom.

Mom's weekly drug treatment was to be today but because she is so exhausted and shortwinded, her medical team did not give it to her. Instead she is going in for a lung scan tomorrow morning.

Poor Dad, he is so worried. We all are, of course, but we have children and work (and for me and Karen, new homes) to think about, too, so we have some distractions.

Dad is doing all the cooking and I'd like to help him out by preparing some frozen meals he can quickly thaw when he can't think of something to make. If you have any tried and trues, please send them to me. I didn't bring all my recipe books along, only the ones I couldn't live without for the next 10 months.

I've been at their place about four times since I got here, and it is not enough. I wish I lived closer than a half-hour drive away, so I could be there in five minutes and go more often. Could yet happen. Am not sure how long I will stay in this suite — the roads to it are steep, the driveway is steep (not the best for Emil in winter conditions) and Mom, too, keeps saying she wishes we were closer. That's good enough for me. I can't help it. Whatever Mom wants, she is pretty much going to get.

Meanwhile, the suite is bright and spacious and we are settling in fine. I miss my sweetie though; however, not as much as he is missing me and the boys. The house is Way Too Quiet, he says, when he phones once or twice a day. The weather out there has been such that it is delaying him getting his work done, so he is disheartened. It means he can't get out here as soon as he would like. And he's lonely and forlorn ... or so he claims.

Thank goodness I have the boys with me, that's all I can say, or I would be quite miserable. They have been a huge comfort to me during this upheaval. I don't think I could have done it without them.