More on peroxide, thanks to my cousin Damon:

"If any substance is interesting, it's hydrogen peroxide. Hydrogen peroxide should really be called hydrogen dioxide. Its chemical formula is H2O2. It contains one more atom of oxygen than does water (H20).

By now everyone's aware of the ozone layer that surrounds the earth. Ozone consists of three atoms of oxygen (03). This protective layer of ozone is created when ultraviolet light from the sun splits an atmospheric oxygen molecule (02) into two single, unstable oxygen atoms. These single molecules combine with others to form ozone (03). Ozone isn't very stable. In fact, it will quickly give up that extra atom of oxygen to falling rainwater to form hydrogen peroxide (H202). (Bear with me: all this chemistry mumbo jumbo I'm going through actually will help you understand the importance of hydrogen peroxide.)

Helps Plants
It is this hydrogen peroxide in rainwater that makes it so much more effective than tap water when given to plants. With the increased levels of atmospheric pollution, however, greater amounts of H202 react with air-borne toxins and never reach the ground. To compensate for this, many farmers have been increasing crop yields by spraying them with diluted hydrogen peroxide (5 to 16 ounces of 35% mixed with 20 gallons of water per acre). You can achieve the same beneficial effect with your house plants by adding 1 ounce of 3% hydrogen peroxide (or 16 drops of 35% solution) to every quart of water you give your plants. (It can also be made into an excellent safe insecticide. Simply spray your plants with 8 ounces of 3% peroxide mixed with 8 ounces of white sugar and one gallon of water.)"

To read the entire article, see The Many Benefits of Hydrogen Peroxide by Dr. David G. Williams.

This is part of a poster Everett made for computer class. He used my Quark program and figured out how to draw the characters. If you have used Quark, you know that doing this without anyone showing you how is pretty impressive. He did not copy and paste these stick-figures from somewhere, but actually drew them.

***

From my cousin Karen:

"About the ears: When you get them unplugged, a very good "keep unplugged" remedy is a few drops of peroxide in each ear once a week. Hold your head to the side for a couple of minutes and then do the other side. I stick a piece of kleenex or toilet paper in my ear, otherwise the peroxide runs down my neck.I've been doing that for years and it works. It feels kind of funny because you hear the sizzling inside your eardrum.

Peroxide is a wonderful addition to the household. You can clean your mirrors streak free with it. It is antibacterial and antifungal. Put it in a spray bottle and clean your cupboards and disinfect your sinks. I brush my teeth with it once a week.

I walk every Tuesday with a group of friends. One of them asked me if I use the chemical whitener product on my teeth and was surprised when I told her I brush my teeth once a week with peroxide. If you have an electric toothbrush to boot, your teeth will sparkle. The last time I went to the dentist he told me I take such disgustingly good care of my teeth that they don't need to be cleaned even though I'm not great on flossing. Pretty good, eh? Peroxide is very good for the gums. What I do, actually, is put some peroxide in a small container, put a bit of toothpaste on the brush, and dip the brush in the peroxide. I do the dipping several times throughout the brushing. Many years ago, when I was still smoking, I remember the dental hygienist commenting on the fact that my teeth didn't have stains, yet I smoked. Well, peroxide is the reason. Try it."

My sister Joan says her co-workers in the hospital lab swear by the peroxide remedy for a sore throat. As soon as you feel one coming on, you put three drops of peroxide (the 3% kind) in each ear. In the morning your throat will be good as new. No one seems to know why this works or how.

Little Beckster, one of Scott's three nieces who live in the house in the other yard, likes to come over and follow Everett around. She finds him quite entertaining and he gets a kick out of her, too. Yesterday he was doing homework and she was colouring at the table with him. I thought this would be a good opportunity to show you the "retro" table given to us when Grandma's house was cleared out to ready it for sale. The table must be 40 years old and had been in her kitchen all that time.

***

Emil and I were headed downtown for groceries and other errand-running when at a corner we passed an RCMP car waiting to turn onto the street. Emil pointed it out to me because police cars are noteworthy I guess, and the car pulled onto the street and followed us.

I stopped at a stop sign as the police car came up behind me, and after checking for traffic I pulled onto the highway that passes along the southern side of the town. After cruising three blocks I stopped for a moment at another stop sign -- the police car behind me still -- before turning onto the town’s main street. There was a space in front of the drugstore, and I signalled and swerved in alongside the vehicle ahead, preparing to parallel park. The police car was behind me, so I waved to him that I would wait for him to go past. He waved to me to go ahead and park. I did so, and the police car pulled up beside the van. The officer got out of the driver’s side and walked around the front of his car.

I rolled down my window, wondering what he could possibly want.
“Are you coming to talk to me?” I said.
“Yes I am.”
“Oh! All right.” Was he just checking licences and registration? I had removed my seatbelt as soon as I’d put the gearshift into park; I hoped he wouldn’t assume I didn’t have it on while driving, as the ticket for that offence is $150.

When he reached the van, I stretched my hand through the window to shake his, and said “Well, hello! How are you?”
“I’d be a lot better if you’d come to a full stop at those stop signs,” he said.
“I did stop,” I said, perplexed.
“No you didn’t.”
“I thought I did.”
“No. Your tires never stopped.”
“Hm. I’m quite sure they did.”
“Just come to a complete stop from now on, all right?”

Stop longer, you mean, I thought but did not say. There was no point in arguing with him further; he saw what he saw. I am surprised that he’d think I’d be dumb enough to purposely blast through two stop signs with a cop car immediately behind me! Now come on -- I’m not one to throw money away like that.

We went on to have a short conversation, with me asking all the questions. Is he new to town? Arrived in the spring. Where did he come from? Ontario; 10 years before that, the West Indies. Does he like it out west? Seems to. How come he has no West Indian accent? He does when he talks to his buddies back home, he says with a grin. He tells me his first name. He looks young.

Anyway, lesson learned. I will make a point of stopping at stop signs for a few seconds from now on before stepping on the gas pedal again so quickly.

When Emil had a second doctor's appointment in Kelvington for his ears -- which are still plugged after more than a month -- we picked Grandma up at the lodge and took her with us to visit my niece and her little sweetie.

The little guy is at that age -- about four months -- when they are overwhelmingly adorable. I can't help kissing and hugging him. I can't stop! He's delicious.

My niece -- beautiful as she is now, and I'm not kidding you -- probably doesn't recall that I doted upon her the same way some 20 years ago. It's heartwarming to see her so happy with her baby. She's such a sweetheart and a competent and proud mother that to see them together is a snapshot of perfection: this is the way it's supposed to be.

Kade likes Grandma, my niece commented, and I said that's because she's near his size! In the photo Emil is saying goodbye to Kade.

***

We're getting company tonight so I'm about to hop into the tub and get beautified. Supper was a cauliflower and pasta casserole, and buttered spaghetti squash, served with white wine, so I will probably stick to the grape tonight. Never had much faith in being able to mix drinks without getting sick.

***

I have the BEST news ... which I must sit on for a while ... but I can hardly wait to tell. Ooh, baby!

~ in the good old summertime ~

We shall do much in the years to come,
But what have we done today?
We shall give our gold in a princely sum,
But what did we give today?
We shall lift the heart and dry the tear.
We shall plant a hope in the place of fear.
We shall speak the words of love and cheer.
But what did we speak today?

We shall be so kind in the after while.
But have we been today?
We shall bring to each lonely life a smile.
But what have we brought today?
We shall give to truth a grander birth.
And to steadfast faith a deeper worth.
We shall feed the hungering souls of earth.
But whom have we fed today?

We shall reap such joys in the by and by.
But what have we sown today?
We shall build us mansions in the sky.
But what have we built today?
‘Tis sweet in the idle dreams to bask;
But here and now, do we our task?
Yet, this is the thing our souls must ask.
What have we done today?

-from The Book of Virtues, given to Everett by my mom

It was 5:30 when I got out for a walk yesterday, and the sun was already setting. There was a chilly, constant wind too, so I didn't go far -- even long underwear, tuque and scarf were not enough for comfort unless I was on the south side of the bush. Looks like it's time to dig out my ski pants already.

Everett did his homework in the kitchen and kept an eye on the Indian Lentil Piaf -- a new recipe on its fourth and final simmer -- before I felt free to go out.

!!! where does the time go?
seriously
i don't know

i work four hours a day, people! wouldn't you expect me to be looking for things to do, not wracking my brain figuring out when and how and whether I'm going to fit them all in and wishing they were already done while i'm getting through the errand of the moment ... it's ridiculous. i'll drive myself crazy this way. i need a housekeeper and a secretary.

Two weeks ago I started doing my yoga routine in the late morning and today I took the entire morning off for personal reading and writing, eating and bathing as well. Maybe taking time to focus on what gives me strength will reduce some of this crazymaking always-behindness.

Lately some routines have started to entrench themselves. And I could almost swear it started when I followed a piece of advice from the Flylady. She said to get in the habit of making your bed as soon as you get out of it in the morning.

I'm a lazyass about some things, and making beds is one of them. I like my bed made, but haven't always gone to the trouble of making it every day. I started doing it when she suggested, and it's become a habit that seems to have started a ball rolling -- albeit slowly.

Her second command was that you get out of bed and get completely ready to meet the day -- get washed and dressed to the point where you're ready to put your shoes on and go out the door.

I don't have that habit but do remember, from my 9-to-5 days, how it is energizing and how it brings results.

***

Reply to comments from last entry:

<> Katherine (in the Utah desert, for readers) -- no, I used my old standby for tomato-pepper salsa, a recipe that makes about four quarts at a time. In the book of salsa recipes you sent, the first one I planned to try was the potato salsa - but I haven't gotten around to it yet. Better get my butt in gear, eh? It's been quite a while. Have you made it?
[to the DWers who are reading: Katherine just had a visit with Judy, who was on a mountain-of-tomatoes rescue mission.]

<>Lasse (in Sweden) -- This is very early for winter to come for us; usually snow doesn't come and stay until the very end of October or early November. Scott is watching the weather forecasts closely; he has another month of outside work to do.

The view from the kitchen window this afternoon. I bet we got a six-inch dump during the night. It was so wet and heavy that it was a struggle getting the door open this morning. The snow clung to the tree branches all day, weighing them down.

A week or two ago, the pasture north of the farmyard was all green and soaked after a weekend of heavy rain.

Now the trees are leafless and the air bites.

~ sign in store ~
(someone sent me this photo)

We are enjoying very cold temperatures here. I awoke to snow flurries yesterday morning and put longjohns under my bluejeans after I'd been out and damn near froze, and cranked the furnace on this morning. Will put an extra blanket on the bed tonight.

Aside from the weather (it rained so much over the weekend that we had water come into our basement again, so after six months of that crap it still isn't really dry down there, and everyone in the area is experiencing the same thing -- the water table is so high this year), life is going on much as usual.

Emil and Everett are back at school so there are fundraisers to contribute to. This weekend the high school kids are putting on a community meal to earn money for their student council activities. Each family donates something (this year my boys and I will transform 5 lbs of ground beef into meatballs and sauce; last year we prepared a vat of mashed potatoes) to the meal and the kids set up at the Wadena Legion Hall and serve it to whoever comes out in support.

There was finally a hard frost the other night so my flowers are done now, darn it. I had so been enjoying the sweetpeas and poppies that were still in full bloom. Oh well. Now one has to look up and listen instead, for there are hordes of Canada Geese flying over on their way south for the winter.

Our neighbour, who gave me 10 gallons of cucumbers in August (with which I made dill pickles to supply our household and that of Scott's parents for the winter), just gave me a five-gallon pail full of ripe tomatoes along with a request that I make salsa for her to give to her two adult children, who apparently are quite enamoured with some salsa I gave her last year. So as soon as I get to town again this week I'll be buying peppers and getting down to chopping.

Violet, who is an extremely hard worker (one of the highest virtues in these parts), grows a big garden, milks a Jersey cow, and raises chickens, is my supplier of cream, butter and eggs. I have to twist her arm to get her to let me pay her for any of the stuff, and then she loads me up with fresh garden produce every chance she gets, too. So I am very pleased she's asked me to make this salsa for her; I don't like to always be the taker.

It was an unusually large, orange harvest moon. Enough so that Scott phoned home: "Go take a picture!" I walked out to the end of the driveway and snapped a photo, but it doesn't do the moon justice. Not at all. Too bad.

This afternoon it's sunny and breezy. I headed out for a walk and decided, once I hit the gravel road, to curtail my rambling to the outer perimeter of the farmyard. The dog was practically under my feet, which is unusual for her, and before long I realized why: I, too, heard gunshots from the west. The dog wouldn't go more than 10 feet from me, then would run right back, shaking, shivering, and panting. She's terrified when she hears thunder, too.

My guess is that it's the (mostly) American hunters who come up for a couple weeks this time of year to shoot geese and ducks. I don't know if deer season is open yet. But we've all heard stories like the one about the American from the city who mistakes a domestic cow for a moose and shoots it. To be on the safe side, I usually wear my bright red plaid jacket when I go out for a walk in the fall. And I wish those hunters weren't anywhere around here.

The dog ... when I wouldn't let her into the house with me ... has now hidden under the deck. It's just as well. From a distance, if you saw her in the field, she could easily be mistaken for a coyote. And who knows what gun-happy men will shoot at.