Everett and his shadow, in Kelowna

10:37 a.m.

At suppertime last night I was about to drive a half-hour north, to Kelvington, to sort organic produce Pat (my friend and mother-in-law) picked up in Saskatoon — over $900 of the stuff purchased wholesale — when I went to the basement storeroom to put a new package of paper napkins on the shelf. To my chagrin, I stepped into an inch or two of water. Ah, lovely!

A migraine was just beginning too. I carried bags and boxes of wet stuff up the stairs and out onto the deck, did some mopping, and then stopped to take a pill. Thank goodness I did; it turned out to be a long night.

So, while Scott had asked me if I'd like to spend some time with him this weekend, and we'd thought we could work on closing in the deck and raking the grass, it is not to be. We'll be slogging out the basement instead.

I did go to Kelvington and spend almost three hours helping to sort the fruit and veggies and then waiting for the numbers to be tallied up so we'd all know what we'd owe. When I got home it was to find that Scott had discovered water seeping into the living room carpet as well, so that room will need to be entirely emptied, dried, cleaned, and then the carpet re-stretched before it can be put back together again.

Apparently a switch on the sump-pump has broken, or we wouldn't have this problem.

"Why do things like this always happen on holidays," he wondered, "when you can't get parts?"

Fortunately for us, our business hub is a small town. He called a guy who works at the hardware store, wondering if he'd go into the store today to sell us a part. And he will. So we're in luck ... considering.

We'll be filling the boys' bedroom with small things and filling the office and deck with larger furniture. I also need to clean out the fridge in order to fill it with the case of oranges, case of apples, and case of grapefruit I bought ... not to mention the spinach, celery, broccoli, zucchini, carrots ... much of which I intended to keep down in the now-flooded storage room.

Oh yeah, Easter weekend here we come!

On Tuesday morning I loaded Emil and Everett into the van and headed for Humboldt, where we met up with Cameron (that brothertrucker) and his semi. After having lunch together, he and I hoisted Emil up into the cab and the boys and their uncle headed off to Alberta for the Easter break. I turned north and went to see my friend who lives about a half-hour away.

There is water right to the tops of the ditches along the highways. The grid roads are flooded in various places; near Lake Lenore, where we went to pick up Joanne's husband at the end of his workday, at least two road detours were required. While "disastrous" flooding is occurring further north and in southern Manitoba, in this area of Saskatchewan we aren't experiencing anything too rough.

But when I arrived home yesterday, I discovered that even my usual walking road has been affected. The creek is overflowing.

It was such a gorgeous day that I gave myself the afternoon off so I could go out and bask in it. There was barely a breeze, and the light was warm and luscious. I walked right on past the sign above, checked out the crack in the road, and carried on past the flooded creek and the trees now underwater in lowlying areas.

This sight reminds me of swampy areas in southern Texas. But I'm glad we don't have alligators or snakes or anything else that will eat you.

It was one of those days when you don't want to come inside at all. I did though. After walking a mile or two in the sunshine, I spent an hour sweeping and washing the floors in the house. Supper was alcohol-free beer and pizza that burned the roof of my mouth. And afterwards, I went for a sunset stroll.

The moon was full and coming up between clouds on the eastern horizon, so I tried to capture it on the camera but it didn't cooperate.

It was my brother-in-law's birthday, so my sisters baked a cake for him. It was meant to be the skirt of a doll's dress, with the intention of celebrating my niece's fourth birthday at the same time. But creative license took over. When the skirt came out of the oven reminding everyone of a boob, the plan changed and a matching cake was made.

They refuse to let their adoring public know whose idea it was, so I must remain mum on that subject.

The nipples are pink candies.

I think Gary found it quite fetching.

Sleep perchance to dream
~ Shakespeare ~

Where I slept.
On the last trip I chose the other guestroom, because a quilt Mom made for Joan was on the bed.
This time I let Karen have it.

Where I walked.
This is just a few blocks from Joan and Gary's.

Where I had a little cry.
From the side of this hill.
Don't ask me why.

~ Moi, Karen, and Joan ~

This is how we three sisters are spending our days ... chatting and sipping on coffee for hours every morning.

Today's the first time we spent an afternoon out running around ... I found the jeans I wanted (or close) at the mall, had a beer with my brother while Joan and Karen were off taking care of other business ... anyway, Cameron's gone back to St. Albert and the rest of us are here spending a quiet evening just being in each others' company.

Had lunch at Dad's today. I still find it difficult to be there now that Mom isn't. Dad's been over here for supper most days since Karen and I arrived. Tomorrow we are doing some birthday celebrations so we'll see him again.

Just "touching base" and now the phone's for me so ...

Kate

This is how the snow looked a couple of days ago. It didn't feel quite like spring because things were still frozen.

The horses knew the thaw had begun yesterday; they were pawing and nosing the snow down at the creek. Now the snow's started to melt away fast and the yard is going to be a bog. Ivan and Scott were out yesterday trying to minimize the potential damage:

Even after they scraped a lot of snow off the driveway yesterday, my vehicle still sinks into deep slushy ruts.

 Today, I got out for a 30-minute walk in the afternoon sun in spite of having plenty to do to get ready to leave tomorrow. I'm still not packed. But I got my walk. 

You can smell the water in the air. It's definitely spring. This morning as I basked on the deck for a few minutes, there were bird calls that haven't been heard around here since fall. Nice to hear again.

(Marya, do you still have the url for listening to bird calls?)

If this weather keeps up, most of the snow I'm seeing will be gone when we get back in one week. But there will be water and mud ... oh dear.

Look at the mud already on the snow. Not so pretty!

Almost all these pictures were taken on this afternoon's ramble. I'll be missing it, as well as my morning constitutional and my sunset stroll, for the next eight days. And when I drive back into the yard and want to walk to the house, how much do you want to bet I'll wish I'd stowed some rubber boots in the vehicle? I'd almost put money on it, that our shoes will get soaked walking to the house.

Because I ain't wearing my winter jacket and honkin' big boots to Kelowna. Nosiree. I'm travelling light. Empty suitcase, to boot, because Joan always loads me up with her castoff clothing. This time I'm leaving space for the new wardrobe, and plan to go shopping. There's a Levis store in the mall, and maybe it will have my 512 slimfits. Or who knows -- something better, if I can bear to spend any time trying things on. Still on the quest for the perfect pair of bluejeans: finding them requires no time spent in fitting rooms.

I will update from there, but won't be able to send out any notifies. Did I mention that Everett's coming along?

It's Mom's birthday today. I don't have an image adequate to relate to you how much I wish she was here to give a present to.

When I saw Grandma on Saturday I was concerned, of course, and asked for some details. When and how had that happened, and where?

Well, she thinks about two weeks ago (and how come I didn't hear anything about it? or see it? surely I've been there in the past two weeks) she just fell down out in the yard, must have slipped on ice. But "I didn't feel it," she said, rubbing her forehead somewhat curiously.

This is why— one of the reasons— we worry about her there on her own. What if she'd knocked herself out, or been unable to get up and laid out there in the snow without being seen?

As soon as I arrived at her place on Sunday to pick Everett up, I was summoned into Grandpa's room to help make the bed. This is one of the quilts Mom made:

In honour of Mom and her love of barbershop music, I hereby give you this. Turn up your speakers and go click on the horses.

Here he is, Joanne, since you asked: Mr. Bullethead!

And what's this about registering in order to use the comment link at the bottom of entries? Is that what the subscription deal is all about? I have been wondering what the benefits of "subscribing" to this webpage are. There are around 50 subscribers (hello to you all) but I'll be darned if I know what difference it makes whether a reader is subscribed or not. If you're a reader who has figured it out, you could let me know.

You see, this is a free webpage. I don't pay for it. Usually you have to pay a monthly fee to have a webpage that includes pictures. This one was offered free at a time when the server was a new startup or something, and I was one of the fortunate ones offered the opportunity to make use of it.

I am grateful, even though there is no technical help available when I run into problems, which I occasionally do. For instance, if you follow the link over there on the right -- "new readers start here" -- it takes you back to the first entry I made, and then the next ... and from there you cannot move ahead. The navigational links are broken and I haven't a clue how to fix them. The "help" page is no help. So? Outta luck. But hey, it's free.

I am always thinking of creating a new webpage, bought and paid for and with reliable technical help when required. I just don't know what server to go with, and they all seem to want you to pay through PayPal, which I can never get an account registered with -- I've tried twice. Might be something to do with my old(er) browser, I don't know.

Oh well. It's not like I have a lot of time to design a new page and learn how to code it. Look how little time I have anymore to write entries here. Stubblejumpers, for instance, gets none of my attention whatsoever. Is it even still there? After a while without any activity, they take the page down. Maybe it's gone.

Speaking of being grateful, I was unpleasantly surprised last night while watching the late-night news to hear some twat (a military general) comment that the released hostages did not seem to be grateful to the soldiers who risked their lives to rescue them. For heaven's sake. These men have been captive and under death threat for four months and people are going to quibble over whether they've thanked their rescuers yet on their first day home? How the hell do they know, anyway, that the released hostages didn't kiss and hug those soldiers the moment they saw them?

Lord, people get on my last nerve sometimes. And the media, just as small-minded apparently, are idiotic enough to pick up on it and blow it out of all proportion. As if they don't have enough of a story here.

Sometimes people display in public what seem to me to be simply bad manners... as if they have no common decency. These guys have been through hell. Let them BE for a few days! They have a trauma to overcome; they don't need to be criticized right now, on top of it.

To the TV, I said, "Shut the F up!"

That's people for you. There are far too many who always have to say something critical, even when they don't really know what they're talking about.

Like the friend of mine who remarked condescendingly about my singing of a chant. I sing "Om namaha shiva ya" and have done so for years, as it comforts and centres me. My friend said, "Do you even know what it means?" as if the effort was wasted if I did not.

I didn't bother to explain to him that although I once knew what it meant and no longer remember, it is the sound of the chant that affects the body's cells and the brain's waves. The body and brain don't need to know what it means. They just need to hear it.

I didn't bother to educate him, because I prefer to let him believe he's smarter than he actually is.

And on that note, for those of you I haven't already sent this link to, check this out. This webpage irreverently (as well it should) trashes the covers of romance novels. It cracks me up every time.
 

You guys have to be getting sick of pictures of snow, so I thought I'd give you a break today. Here's Emil tonight just before we ate bean and cheese burritos for supper (filling and tasty, if I say so myself). Tomorrow afternoon he gets that mop chopped off. No — buzzed off — "Just like Grandpa Emil," he says. Fine by me. Baldy.

•

This afternoon came the phone call we've been waiting for; the one that informs us there's a room open at the lodge for Grandma. She can move in about two weeks. I'll be telling her tomorrow. Then, the minute Karen and I are back from Kelowna, we'll probably be helping her get moved.

Grandma should be happy. She's been telling me she's tired of living alone.

Oh oh! The cat! I forgot about the cat! I said I'd take the damn cat when the time came. The hairy cat that I do not want in the house! Shee-it.

Don? You need a beautiful black cat, don't you?
Yes, I think so. Everyone who lives alone should have a nice cat.

I'll see if I can get a picture of him for you tomorrow.
Oh, he's a beaut.