My wakeup call came at 7:30, not long after a strange dream wherein I’d had a loving sexual encounter with a female horse. Whatever the hell that means!

“You’d better get up, Kathy.” It was Scott leaning over the bed. “We have to move everything out of the bedroom and get the carpet up before it gets wet.”

I laid there with my eyes open for about 15 seconds to take that in, then heaved myself up and started carrying books, shoes and bedclothes upstairs and into the boys’ room. Thank goodness they aren’t here this week; we’d have no place for them!

After about half an hour of passing each other on the stairs, the room was bare and Scott began pulling the carpet back. I came up and made a pot of coffee and started a batch of bran muffins. I was quite calm about the whole thing until he told me all three flower beds I’ve put in next to the house will have to be torn up and moved.

“Oh, no!” I whined. “The garden is saturated ... where can I put them all?”

“Better start thinking about it,” he advised.

My panic was shortlived. My first urge was to phone Mom; as soon as I remembered that it isn’t possible, I also remembered that we are safe and that everyone dear to me is healthy. We are also far better off than people up at Red Earth First Nations Reserve, who were bused out of their community yesterday. They are in shelters in Saskatoon with only what they could carry; what we’re dealing with here is small potatoes in comparison.

Fortunately our household has a man who knows exactly what to do to minimize the damage. He’d been up dealing with it for about three hours before he finally woke me. He’d heard rain and gotten up to check, and voila ... more water coming in. And another inch is forecast, although the sky doesn’t appear threatening.

At the moment Scott’s about three feet from the corner of the house, digging a deep hole from which, apparently, he plans to pump water out and away from the house. My job for now is to go downstairs every 10 to 15 minutes and vacuum up (see that yellow upright tube in the picture?) water that’s seeping in in two places.

On Friday I missed a good picture of Scott and his buddy Rick standing in the middle of the slough in the bush behind the house. They had their rubber boots on and were standing watching a pump do its work of emptying the slough further away from the house, and looked just like two little boys out playing in the water.

Looks like it’s going to be another gorgeous day. I’m not being tongue-in-cheek, either. Hauling Rubbermaid buckets full of my belongings out of the flooded storage room and onto the deck to dry off will be almost pleasant activity. Scott’s sister Tanya just called to arrange a family meal next door at suppertime. We’ll miss the lunch at Karen’s, unfortunately.

Last night we picked Grandma up and drove her there to spend the night so she could attend the Easter breakfast and service at her church in Margo. Our aunt had suggested that we leave her at the lodge without disturbance for a couple weeks to get oriented, but neither Karen nor I could stomach the thought of her wandering the hallways alone there while many of the other residents have been picked up by their families for Easter Sunday. What if Grandma felt nobody wanted her? We’re not taking that chance.

She was happy to go, although on the drive to Margo she did ask about five times in fairly quick succession if she had locked the door to her room. We assured her that she had. Her memory is terrible ... terrible, I say!

I also took a second rocking chair to her room, against the orders of same aunt, who thought it wasn’t necessary to add anything to the existing “mix” that Grandma is getting accustomed to. Obviously she hasn’t visited and had to sit on the bed or a hard kitchen chair for more than a few minutes! I want to be comfortable when I call on Grandma, and now the two of us will be able to sit and relax in the privacy of her room and have tea or watch TV or whatever she wants to do. Well I hope not the TV; Grandma likes game shows and sports. But anyway, whoever visits her will be able to relax enough to stay a while instead of hurrying away because all they’ve got to rest on feels like a roost.

Grandma seems very happy there. She’s been so busy that she’s turned down company at least once, and when I phone she’s often not in her room. They have bingo twice a week, a rotating denomination of church service every Wednesday afternoon, and a band that comes in and plays on Fridays. These are all right up Grandma’s alley. One of her dearest friends is right next door, and there are a good handful of Margo seniors living at the residence too. It’s just what Grandma needs. She told me last night that she thinks she’s gained weight already, from all the regular meals. I hope so. She’s nearly lost her false teeth too many times to mention, lately, and I assume that’s because she’s gotten so thin. She can stand to gain quite a few pounds.

Well, I’m off to get dressed and see what else I can do. Maybe something outside.