L-R, standing: Aunt Vera, moi, Aunt Reta;
Seated: Joanne

One day Mom's best friend invited me to join her, my aunt, and my great-aunt for "high tea" at The Old House Café and Gallery in Kuroki, which is about 10 miles down the road from the farm here. (That's pronounced Kurr-OH-kee; named after a Japanese general, or so the story goes). The photo above was taken after we'd lunched.

Been on the run pretty much nonstop for a week or two, driving all over hell's half acre for various reasons. Have attended two funerals this week, got my hair cut, and been to the dentist. Three needles for freezing! I swear, two-and-a-half hours in the dentist's chair was an ordeal. I don't care if the dentist IS cute and sweet. Well, it helps. But not enough.

Tomorrow I drive to Manitou Beach for two nights in a rented cabin with my best pal Cathy before picking Emil up from Camp Easter Seal. He's never ready to leave, mind you. Before he gets into the van I have to be introduced to every counsellor on the grounds, twice. And then some.

Tonight we're off to an anniversary party. A couple close to our own age has been married 30 years. Neither one of us can imagine it. When Scott tells me, I say, "Yes, and they are old enough to have grandchildren by now. And so are we! It won't be long...." (Gunnar, are you listening? I was talking about you being soon ripe enough to settle down and raise a family.)

Things have cooled down outside. I'm back in the comfortable bed. But life is never paradise, is it? Now I am killing a good half-dozen mosquitoes in the bedroom before I can fall asleep, and darned if I know how they are getting into the house.

We'll find out on Monday what the results of Scott's blood test was; whether he had West Nile or what.

I am going to enjoy those two nights of R & R at the beach. Maybe we'll go to the mineral spa; must remember to pack my bathing suit.

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All the news:

My lovely sons are back home again, we're getting a break from the heat, and gak! summer is more than half over.

The doctor also thinks that Scott has West Nile; the bloodwork was done Wednesday morning and we are still waiting for the results. Apparently he is not the only person in this area who is being tested for it.

We moved back into our queen-size bed in the basement last night and it was HEAVEN. I slept till 10 this morning (in spite of Scott having awakened me much earlier to give me a goodbye kiss before he left for work) and even then didn't want to get up, really. The basement is still torn apart and dampish but I had become uncomfortable on the loveseat here in my office so didn't have much choice. After only a few moments laying down, my feet were going to sleep from being either propped up over the upholstered arm, or having my legs bent.

We have put our new pet, Casper (affectionately nicknamed Fat Girl), on a diet. The self-feeding bowl that Shelly brought will no longer be kept full; the dog is now on generous rations given twice a day, instead. I hope that slimming down a little will eventually put a stop to her heavy panting when she accompanies me on walks. I have been ambling along much more slowly than usual so that the old girl doesn't go and have a heart attack on me. On the other hand, the benefit of her heaviness may be that it keeps her beside me rather than running far ahead, as the young dog does. It makes her better company.

Emil and I are off to Kelvington this afternoon for our massage appointments, and will look in on my niece and great-nephew if they are home, just a couple doors down. Or maybe we can catch my sister-in-law on a rare day off.

That's my exciting life, and I wouldn't change too much about it. Did I mention we will be moving next month? Scott and I are buying a house on 35 acres three-quarters of a mile north of this farmyard. There will be pictures galore before you know it.

Also, Everett is going to take his Grade 10 by correspondence. He and I are both happy about that— he because he has not liked the noise and pressure of public school since he left kindergarten, and I because I enjoy his presence around the place. We are talking about taking a weekly karate class together and of course he will continue with his piano lessons. I'll also organize regular trips to the school library for him. My one concern is that he will not have the opportunity to deepen his budding friendships with certain classmates with whom he feels some affinity; however, the freedom to study from home is more important to him. Maybe he can find other ways to socialize with kids his own age.

Now Playing: Steve Pineo, Coyote Song. Not my favourite on this CD; this collection of songs comes from an Alberta crooner whose tunes get me singing along at full volume.

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~little Ben will be 3 months old on the 10th~

Joan says he is smiling now and has slept through several nights, so things are looking up.

Scott's had flu-like symptoms since Thursday. He has developed a rash all over his back and chest. At first it looked like heat rash, and since he'd been working out in extreme heat, we figured that was probably it. But his sister, a nurse, tells us heat rash would be gone by now if that's what it was. We are wondering if he might have the West Nile virus, which you can get from mosquitoes that carry it. If he's not feeling better tomorrow, we'll be off to the doctor's office to find out what's what. Most people recover from it, not even knowing they have it.

Not that it's stopped him from working, oh no! He's out there right now, moving cattle from one pasture to another.

We went for a drive to the north fields yesterday afternoon. When we get to the fence and the cattle see his truck, they start running toward it like a bunch of pets, and then they follow it. When it stops, they gather around the truck, mooing. They know, Scott says, that they may be moved to "greener pastures," and are excited and ready to go.

He got out his door to look the beasts over, and I opened mine and stood on the ledge until I heard Scott say, "Kathy, get in the truck." Not understanding why, but leery of cattle, I immediately obeyed. Through the window I could see a black bull, which had squeezed through the herd to have a look at me.

"He's the new bull," Scott said, "and I don't know his personality."

It was probably as docile as the rest, but you don't take chances.

***

If I wasn't working freelance, today would be a paid holiday for me! It's the August long weekend. Darn it! However, the pleasures of working from home make it seem like a holiday anyway. I've marked "Birdline" on the calendar so I won't miss the CBC radio call-in show about wild birds. They have a bird expert come in periodically to help callers identify wild birds they've seen.

I'll be going to pick up the boys on Wednesday and am looking forward to having them home again.

Emil reported that his ears were feeling normal again when he was at his dad's, so I've been racking my brain trying to figure out what could be in this house, causing them to feel plugged (mould?). However, yesterday he told me his ears had felt normal on his graduation day, before he left here.

Hornswoggled.

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On Thursday afternoon my friend Shelly drove in from Edmonton with her daughter, Becky (see above). They have just moved from a country acreage to a house in a village, and Shelly did not want to confine her old dog to town living. No one offered to take the old girl in, so I did; but it meant Shelly would have to bring her, by driving about eight hours. Having not seen each other for several years, we were both pretty excited about the whole idea.

Of course, while she was here, I made her work. It was either that, or I knew she'd make ME work. Shelly cannot help looking around and seeing possible improvements, and since she is like family, she is not afraid to make suggestions. She was returning an old sewing machine Mom had picked up for me at a garage sale; Shelly had been using it ever since, because I never have taken to sewing machines.

This project had been in the works for a while, actually. I have been wanting matching couch cushions, rather than several sets that don't, which drives me crazy, what can I say. You girls out there will understand.

So anyway, we worked on these together in the kitchen for several hours on Friday -- Shelly at the machine, me at the ironing board. Here are the results of our labours:

Shelly planned to leave the next morning and I said, "Ha! You will find your tires all flat when you go to exit the yard; just wait, you are meant to stay more than two nights." And sure enough, she discovered one flat tire yesterday morning, so there was a slight delay. However, they did get away. It was a too-short, but a very-sweet visit.

When they first unloaded the dog, Casper, I was shocked at how much bigger she is now than when I last saw her. I said, "Holy Hanna, has she ever gotten fat!"

Shelly's reply: "She's not fat! She's just big-boned."

I took her with me for three walks yesterday. Short, slow walks, because she pants loudly whenever she moves and she doesn't seem able to walk very fast.

This is she, cooling off in the ditch:

We went for supper at Faye and Rick's about a week (or was it two) ago. After eating a delicious meal — Rick's first major success as a chef for guests — we strolled out onto the road.

It was a glorious summer evening. We walked to the garden, where we admired rows of stalky corn and the white blooms of peas, and Faye pulled up a big handful of green onions to send home with us.

The other afternoon there was a knock on the door, and it was the Beckster from the other yard, come to announce that the training wheels have been taken off her bike and she would like me to come out and see her ride without them.

In other news, the heat wave has broken! This morning I am baking a frozen pie (made by my great aunt; wish I could take credit) and as soon as it comes out of the oven, in will go a new batch of granola. Naturally just yesterday I purchased two boxes of "healthy" (ha; as if such a thing can be found in the grocery store) cereal to keep me going till the next cool day.

In even better news, my friend Shelly is driving out from the Edmonton area tomorrow. Woo hoo!! She is bringing me an old white dog and the sewing machine Mom bought me at a garage sale 10 years ago, which Shelly has been using ever since. We are going to (she is going to) sew up a dozen cushion covers for me. She can put me to work cutting fabric and sewing straight seams, and maybe ironing them, if need be. Otherwise sewing by machine is something that just frustrates me. I'd rather hand-sew.

And I have to earn some money while she's here, so the cushion-covers project can keep her busy while I'm at my desk, and I won't feel guilty about leaving my guest to her own devices for four hours a day.

In shitty news, Scott and I have dental appointments this afternoon. He could use the afternoon off, as he's been working in this extreme heat for many days in a row, outside. Unfortunately it won't be an enjoyable afternoon off for either of us. He'll be getting fillings and the dentist will be doing the preliminary work for two crowns I need.

I'll leave you with this warning story I found on a discussion list I am on:

"The original message was written by a lady whose brother and wife learned a hard lesson this past week.

Their house burnt down.. nothing left but ashes. They have good insurance so the house will be replaced and most of the contents. That is the good news.

However, they were sick when they found out the cause of the fire. The insurance investigator sifted through the ashes for several hours. He had the cause of the fire traced to the master bathroom. He asked her sister-in-law what she had plugged in the bathroom. She listed the normal things...curling iron, blow dryer. He kept saying to her, "No, this would be something that would disintegrate at high temperatures." Then her sister-in-law remembered she had a Glade Plug-In, in the bathroom.

The investigator had one of those "Aha" moments. He said that was the cause of the fire. He said he has seen more house fires started with the plug-in
type room fresheners than anything else. He said the plastic they are made from is THIN. He also said that in every case there was nothing left to prove that it even existed. When the investigator looked in the wall plug, the two prongs left from the plug-in were still in there.

Her sister-in-law had one of the plug-ins that had a small nightlight built in it. She said she had noticed that the light would dim and then finally go out. She would walk in to the bathroom a few hours later, and the light would be back on again. The investigator said that the unit was getting too hot,
and would dim and go out rather than just blow the light bulb. Once it cooled down it would come
back on. That is a warning sign.

The investigator said he personally wouldn't have any type of plug-in fragrance device anywhere in his house. He has seen too many places that have been burned down due to them."

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If you're wondering why you don't receive notifies like you used to, it's because -- well, don't make me explain, just sign up again:

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~ bought en route to Kelowna to live, back in the 1980s ~

Monday:
Yep, ploughed right through those dishes today— in two goes.

Things I Read Online This Past Week:

All Things Glitter, another Saskatchewan journal from Darn Near My Neighbour

Empress of Dirt, a colourful and inspiring gardening journal

ChaChaChatter, a gal moving down to my neck of the woods

Post of the Week, speaks for itself

Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim, Rob's notebook from Saskatchewan's northerly city

Tongue in Cheek, a woman's treasures in France

Inner Pathways, a diarist's journal from British Columbia

Planet Prairie, a woman's life in Winnipeg

emdot/meandering streamies, the sweetheart of DW

Journal of a Writing Man, England's own

Louphoria, Ireland's own

Plain Jane, straight talk from Kansas, as the lady says

Maggie Turner's Journal, slices of a life in Ontario

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Mom sewed this swatch of fabric, above, into a set of cushion covers for me a long time ago.

Another hot day. Thank goodness it's breezy.

I am working through the dishes, with which I'd gotten behind, in increments. Yesterday the first third, today the second, and maybe tomorrow I'll finally get on top of them and be caught up. It's not that there are so many but that I am unwilling to stand at the sink for more than a half-hour at a time. They will just have to wait. Today I listened to Colin James and the Little Big Band 3 though and that CD had me dancing and singing the whole time. It's the only way I know of that doing dishes can actually be fun.

It is too hot in the office to do my usual yoga practice during the day. This has been the case for the past week. Instead I have been going for a four-mile bike ride after things begin to cool down in the evenings.

The basement, where our living room and master bedroom are, is still damp. There is some mould (white) growing on the outside of a dresser; Scott knows black mould when he sees it and pronounces us black mould free. I hope he's right. Emil's ears are feeling normal again now that he's away from here and I do wonder if the dampness or something caused by it has anything to do with that.

And did I mention that we are moving? We are buying a house on 35 acres just about a mile north of here, and expect to start transferring our belongings over in early September. I am looking forward to having more space but also to sleeping in my bed again.

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If you're wondering why you don't receive notifies like you used to, it's because -- well, don't make me explain, just sign up again:

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~what my lasagna pan gets used for~

-reprinted from last week's Wadena News.
Clair is one of the next towns down the line from here.

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If you're wondering why you don't receive notifies like you used to, it's because -- well, don't make me explain, just sign up again:

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