This is Emil inside the front entry of his new school, where he meets his aide each morning. A couple days ago she said to me, "What a sweetheart he is; what a great kid!" Of course I was not surprised; it gives me great pleasure to hear that my son is well liked. I have heard these sentiments from almost every aide he's ever had, and some of his teachers too.

The one aide that never sang his praises was one he had for a short time when he was in Grade One. She would pick him up at our home; he would meet her inside our front porch. One day she said to me "He is never ready, I always have to wait at least five minutes for him and it makes us late for school."

I said "Huh?" Figured she was just nuts, because while she may have waited five minutes once when he had to go to the bathroom just as she was arriving; that was the only time there was what seemed to be a long wait.

It wasn't long afterward that his teacher called me to say that she didn't think Emil was very happy with this aide and that I could go to the administration and tell them I wanted another one. Emil had just told me something somewhat threatening that the aide had said to him on their way to school, so I didn't wait, I went to see the principal right away. That was it for her, at least with my kid.

That aide died of cancer a year or two later, leaving two young children and a husband behind. Emil still mentions her from time to time though, as "the crabby aide."

Everett is vacuuming. Rug cleaners are coming in 20 minutes and we will let them in and then head over to Mom and Dad's for the afternoon. Mom was actually feeling well enough to consider coming over here today — they haven't seen my place yet — but the carpets will be wet for a while so there's no point in that.

I hit a moving sale yesterday and for $40 bought all kinds of things for the suite, things that I can leave here when I go: tupperware, glasses, wine glasses, end tables, a small vase, cake pans, breadloaf pans, etc. Boxes of stuff. The one thing I won't leave is the fruit/vegetable drying machine that was included in the deal. Can hardly wait to try the thing out.

Something tells me someone back home misses me.
'Course, he tells me that every day, a couple times. But a nice bunch of flowers like this underline his words beautifully.

It's Scott's birthday today. Before I left, I bought a Rolling Stones double-CD and wrapped it with a card and hid it in a desk drawer. Then I gave him directions to it the other day when he needed a little boost. Tonight he's gone out for a barbecue with good friends who, Emil reminds me, came to our place last year on Scott's birthday.

His birthday, and I get the flowers. Doesn't seem quite right. But I appreciate them anyway.

***

I've spent the past hour researching glyconutrients for Mom and Dad. Friends of Mom's swear up and down that their life-threatening diseases were positively affected, if not downright cured, by these supplements sold by a company called Mannatech.

Naturally most of the web information is provided by Mannatech or other retailers of their products. I have been looking for independent articles or research, but have found nothing that looks reliable or offers much in the way of information. Yet. Will search again tomorrow.

***

Went to Mom and Dad's this morning bearing heavy German rye bread, cherry pie, and miniature meatpies. We sat around their living room for a couple hours and when they went for Mom's weekly drug treatment, I came home and got to work here at my desk.

***

My upstairs neighbour said yesterday on the phone, "Are you cold? I'm wearing long underwear and a big sweater and I'm still freezing! But I thought maybe you'd be too warm down there if I turned the furnace on."

"I like it warm in the house," I told him. "By all means, crank up the heat."

"I wonder if the pilot light is on," he said.

"I'll check," said I, and hung up to go look in the furnace room. I couldn't tell, and never got around to getting back to him, but tonight as I sat reading a murder mystery on the chaise longue, wrapped in layers of clothing and covered with a blanket, and noticed that even then my nose was cold, it occurred to me to call up there and see if he'd turned the furnace on or not.

"Well, no!" he exclaimed. "I mean, I did, but nothing happened so I turned it off again in case the pilot light needed to be lit or something."

I'd talked to Scott about it and been informed that some furnaces don't have a pilot light and anyway, even if it did and it wasn't lit, there would be no danger. It would just take some time for any warm air to start blowing through the registers, since the furnace hasn't been running for months. It wouldn't throw heat immediately.

I passed this info on to Andries upstairs, who said "Oh, thank goodness! I've been in bed trying to keep warm, and since I didn't hear back from you after we talked yesterday, I thought you were comfortable and it must just be me! I'll turn it on right away and we'll see what happens."

A few minutes later he says "Is something burning down there? Something smells like it's burning! Is Everett cooking again?"

Last night the toaster had charred a pancake Everett was reheating, and Andries had called down to make sure I was home and everything was under control. Tonight, thankfully, it was just the dusty complaint of a furnace being called back into use after a long holiday.

Within minutes I had shed all my extra clothing and was comfy as a clam. And I guess Andries is feeling more content, too. His words were "Tell Scott thank you!"

This handsome gent represents our Royal Canadian Mounted Police. He sits looking out at the Yellowhead Highway from the tourist info stop on the way into the city of North Battleford, Saskatchewan.

Yeah okay, I'm a little behind with the photos, not remotely keeping up with myself. So sue me.

Tonight I am about to put in a couple more hours of work while Everett does his homework, and then once the boys are in bed I think I may actually watch TV. Now that my landlord has delivered a universal remote and I don't have to sit on the floor, squinting, right in front of the channel changer.

The TV set is actually RIGHT in the LIVING ROOM -- aaaackkkk!!! That is the worst situation ever! It's not so terrible when only the kids are here with me and I can pull rank: "Leave that damn thing off." When Scott gets here I foresee it driving me to distraction. For distracted is exactly how I get when there is one in the room. I can't help watching it, my eyes will stray to it and I am easily hooked. There goes another evening. Oh oh.

I like the CSI shows. I'm told my cousin is working in the production crew of the New York one, so I'll have to watch it Just Because. I like Law and Order. Scott teases me about Vincent D'Onofrio, who I once said, apparently, is "intense" so therefore I must have a secret desire for him.

What I really like is that they almost always get their man. Just like the RCMP.

Flowers are still blooming profusely here in the Kelowna area. I can't help but appreciate that. I'm also finding the steep, curvy roads less daunting and even rather enjoy the half-hour drive through heavy city traffic over to Mom and Dad's.

The hollyhock in the photo is a second-year plant having to struggle to prosper in the scorching micro-climate against our house on the farm.

What's happening here in mountain country?

Mom had a blood transfusion today because she's been so weak. She said she can hardly believe the difference it made. Just getting up out of a chair is no longer a hurdle.

She's had some fairly extreme pain in the cancerous kidney and chest; no one seems to know what is causing that, but it did subside last night before I got to their place.

She'd asked me to go over and help her have a sponge bath, as she cannot stand the smell of herself, she says. No one else smells anything, but she actually gags sometimes. Scented soap in the bathroom is another gag-trigger.

Joan and our niece Cara had come over too so we all sat on or near Mom's bed and chatted with her for an hour or more and by the time they left Mom was too tired for anything but sleep, and kicked me out.

"Shut up and go," she said, half-laughing while she tried not to gag and waited for me to exit so she could lock the door behind me and run to the bathroom.

To Joan and Cara she'd said, "Kathy doesn't think she is, but she's a good nurse. Not everyone is able to show their compassion to someone who is sick, or can figure out how to help."

I'm flattered, I'm glad my presence is a comfort and that she believes I can do something for her, but I am also afraid I may let her down one of these times. When I was able to help her that one night, it was because I had experienced pain similar to what she was having and for similar reasons.

I do seem to remain calm in the face of other people's panic and pain, but I gag when they gag or if someone vomits or I have to cope with cleaning it up. I manage to hide my gag reaction fairly well, mind you, as I don't want a sick person to feel bad or embarrassed about being helped.

Nurse? I don't think so. I do not have the guts for it, to be honest. With luck I might manage to do what needs to be done even if it damn near knocks me over. I think. I hope.

Now blood, that is a different story. A couple long glimpses of blood, even a small amount of it, and I'm down or at least feeling faint. Wimpette.

Tonight: toilet woes thanks to Everett. I had to go upstairs and borrow my neighbour's plunger. When the use of it wasn't working, I had to phone Scott to ask for advice.

Earlier this evening I tried to tighten the fluorescent lightbulbs in the kitchen, as one set of them doesn't come on properly except when it is so inclined, which is about a quarter of the time. My attempts were not successful.

It is at times like these when I even more frantically than usual wish Scott was here, I tell you. Things would be Taken Care Of, man.

When I left the farm to come here, I drove through Saskatoon. On Circle Drive on our way to the Yellowhead Highway, we came up alongside this strange-looking vehicle that I at first thought was a little compact car, but no! Someone had attached the back end of one to a motorcycle.

It was odd enough that I pulled out the digital camera and snapped a photo while I was driving. Thus, as you can see, I was unable to look through the viewfinder and get a decent picture. But you get the idea.

***

They're usually referred to as tri-wheelers. They were a big rage in rural Saskatchewan in the early 70s, with lots of people building them - though mostly crafting the front forks, rather than using motorcycles and using car engines & transmissions.

It was a practical way to add more seats and storage to a motorcycle and still register them as motorcycles. I don't know if you could still register them as motorcycles or if there is the advantage today as was then.

The weather is more miserable for the farmers as it is devasting on the crops ~ but it also affects us all ~ however it is a nice sunny fall morning here right now, 40 above (that's 7 for you younger, metricized folk).

Don back home

~as the fridge on the farm looked not that long ago~

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.

At our house, whenever I make fudge, after pouring it into the pan I scrape the sides of the pot and scrounge up two "fudge spoons," one for each boy. These are considered real delicacies and are always greeted with big eyes and even bigger smiles.

***

We arrived in Westbank after a 12-hour drive over a lovely "high" road from Edmonton. The boys stayed a couple nights with their dad while I visited with my good friends, Shelly and Janie.

The weather here has been cool and windy, and we are not moved into our own place yet. That should be today or tomorrow. I look forward to it even as I dread it because of the climb required to drive up there and then the steepness of the driveway.

We went over there the other day to check out the lay of the land, and we also went to both of the boys' schools and to the grocery store, and by the time we got back to Joan's I was getting a migraine from the stress of driving around the busy city on the curvy inclines they call roads here.

I figure a couple more weeks of it and I should have my driver's confidence back. Sure hope so, or it's going to be a miserable winter.

Have been over to Mom and Dad's twice. Mom's feeling fine, just tired and noticing "weird" feelings in the kidney and liver areas. She says she can't describe them. I hope it is what tumours shrinking feels like.

Joan's been working all week and said she is looking forward to having tomorrow off so we can drink coffee together at our leisure in the morning. So I think even if I do take some of our stuff over to the new place today, we'll stay over here another night just so she and I can share that coffee.

As welcome as Joan and Gary have made us, I still feel like a fish out of water, especially since Scott is not here too. Things would feel so much more right if he was.

Oh well, all in good time. The weather in Saskatchewan has been slowing him down a little, as he can't accomplish what he wants (concrete work, baling) when it's drizzly and he's finding the house way too quiet of course.

He didn't call me yesterday, nor yet today ... that is unusual enough that I have begun to wonder whether he is all right!

xoxo
etc
Kate

Laundering, organizing and packing clothes and books, papers and CDs, gearing up for what I tell my children will be an "adventure" ... tomorrow I pack up my computer and Friday morning, early, we are on our way.

I am not looking forward to the two-day drive, even though it will be broken up by a weekend in the Edmonton area so that the boys can spend a few nights with their dad. "If there is anything you need," he said to me on the phone last night, "you just have to ask."

What I am looking forward to is living where both my sisters will be so close by, and Mom and Dad too. That will be quite a treat.

An inland saltwater lake of healing waters.

In the pool at the spa, I had to fight to keep my ass on the cement seat along the edge. You float like the dickens.

xoxo
etc