What on Earth?

Some times it really is true that a picture is worth a thousand words, so I'm trying my hand at a post that's told mostly in pictures.  For a writer, that's a challenge.  I want to explain everything you're about to see but I do believe most of the pictures are self-explanatory, so I'll restrain myself.  Can you guess what's about to happen in my kitchen in this shot?

It looks like we're about to begin a serious construction project, doesn't it?  Well, sort of ... but not quite.  Here's your next clue as to what we might be "building."

Okay, so now you know it involves flour ...

Ah, the plot thickens ... as does the sweet bread dough!  Taking a leaf out of my late father-in-law's book, the "squire" and I have developed our own method for baking bread on a large scale here on our country mile.  The custom-welded beater attached to the industrial-sized drill is the same set-up that my father-in-law created for his wife to do the huge regular weekly baking that she undertook for many years when the squire was growing up.  We inherited the whole apparatus when, after my father-in-law's passing many years ago, my mother-in-law moved to an apartment.  It's great for a woman  like me, whose physical limitations make much standing and rigorous kneading of large quantities of dough difficult.

With his help, the whole process is much quicker and easier.  The way to get your husband to help with the Christmas baking?  Make it about power tools!

Starting to look more like bread dough...

Then a little rising time...

Ah, that's exactly what I need.  Now comes the fun part...

It's actually very easy, if you know how to braid... and who doesn't?

And then just shape each braid into a circle, pinch the ends underneath, and voila!  With very little effort, I've created the first Christmas wreath bread.

After they rose once more, I brushed the breads with egg-white and decorated some of them with sliced almonds.

Ta Da!  A fair amount of time and very little effort produced enough wreath breads for my family in the holiday season and for gift-giving.

And what, you may wonder, were Coco and Baxter up to while we were busy baking?  Well, the sun room was so cozy and warm and there were those comfy couches...

Coco looks like she's plotting a big shock for unsuspecting Baxter, doesn't she, but they were actually very well-behaved all afternoon.  And, yes, of course, they do get a little nibble of the bread occasionally.

Picture Day

It's been a lovely, lazy sort of a day.  I awoke with the intention to do all sorts of things: clean my house, water my plants, sort some of the piles in my office, write some posts, start some articles for the paper, and cook a soup.  The morning was too slow and lazy in the woodstove-warmed sun room, so I gave up on the office sorting.  I made blueberry pancakes for brunch, talked to one of my sisters for at least half an hour, and then settled in my favourite recliner to "rest my legs for just a few minutes."

Of course, any time I choose to settle in the living room, I light Dad's candles.  Right now, because it's Christmas, he has two.  The angels will be packed away in the New Year but the other candle in the glass holder is his permanently.  Kate brought one of her favourite angels up from her room to share the Christmas moments because that little angel, with its slogan of "Forever in Our Hearts," was a gift for her college graduation from Mom and Dad.

 While I rested I started looking through the Facebook albums of close family.  I don't "do" Facebook but family members often forget that and I miss out on some of their activities because the general assumption is that anyone who's interested will keep up with them on Facebook.  So, I really enjoyed my catching up time in my husband's account with the IPad and, before I knew it, it was already 4:00 pm.  Then I scrambled to deal with a huge pot of turkey stock and did manage to create a delicious soup for our supper and freeze enough stock to make two more soups later.

And ... that's all I did so far today.  I love being on holiday and I love knowing that I have eight more days of this, as I booked the whole first week of January off work.  And my reward for that little bit of work I accomplished today?  I get to write, starting with this post and then anything I want.  

I'll also probably spend some time reminiscing as I look over more pictures, some my cousin in Germany sent me a few days after Christmas.  He was kind enough to share some photos he found on his computer of Dad in younger years visiting family Germany, probably around the time Dad's mother passed away in the late 1960s.  Receiving them felt like an extra, unexpected Christmas present.

Here's a montage of Dad with his sister and brother-in-law, two of Dad with his sister, and one of Dad's sister and mother, my Oma Sauerborn.  I met my grandmother only a few times when I was about three years old, so I treasure this picture, one I had not seen before, as I have no clear memories of her.

All in all, it's been a lazy and reflective day, a day on which I hardly cried at all, and I'm glad to have shared some of its nicest moments with you.

Merry Christmas to You and Yours

Christmas Blessings to You and Yours for 2012,

Many of you have sent  lovely Christmas cards and beautiful family photos this year.  I treasure them all.  Please accept this post with my wishes for a Merry Christmas and some updates on our family life as my greeting card to all my readers.

This year on our country mile has been good at times with happy and exciting events and very hard at other times.  As many of you already know, the hardest thing our family has had to accept this year was the very recent death of my beloved father.  He was only two and a half weeks away from his ninety-first birthday when he passed away, with all of us at his side, in the very early hours of November 14.  He was a real gentleman and a gentle man and we all miss him dearly.  I’m trying to remind myself frequently that I was very blessed to have had him in my life this long but I do still get overwhelmed by grief often.  Our family is different for having had him and now we are different for having lost him.

We are also very aware of the circle of life and how it works as were blessed on the same day, a few hours after Dad left us, with the safe arrival of my sister Monika’s first grandchild, the seventh great-grandchild for Dad and Mom.  As we said when we heard the news of little Cooper’s arrival, one soul struggled to leave this world for heaven while another new soul came from heaven and laboured to enter the world.  I like to fancy they passed each other somewhere on the way.

Off and on this year we have lost more trees on our property as many were damaged in the windstorm of two years ago and were easily felled now by high winds or, as happened in early October, unseasonal heavy, wet snow.  As our property changes we are resigning ourselves to less privacy and yet enjoying more wildlife exploring our yard and entertaining us.  The beagles, Baxter and Coco, are often frantic at the audacity of these wild intruders and make their objections loudly heard.  Thank goodness for understanding neighbours!

My husband and I have done some travelling this year and really enjoyed a lot of new experiences. Our favourite was a road trip to Texas in February.  We spent a day in San Antonio and then a few days in the Rockport area.  Rockport is right on the Gulf coast, near Corpus Christi, where we also spent a day seeing a few of the sights.  There’s nothing quite like sand, sun, and ocean in the middle of February, an experience we found so delightful we are planning to repeat it this winter, only a little longer this time.  If all works out as we hope, we’ll meet one of my sisters and her husband there, which is going to add a whole new dimension of pleasure to this trip.

When the travel bug bites, it itches for a long time and so in September we decided to scratch that itch again with a trip to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and Niagara Falls.  I had never seen the Falls before and was particularly impressed with the Canadian side.  Even though I had injured my left leg in a nasty fall about six weeks earlier and was definitely still feeling the effects, I managed a lot of walking and all the stairs it takes to get anywhere near the Falls.  They were definitely worth the effort.  I had lost a fair bit of weight in the months previous to our trip and was I ever glad I did. All that walking helped keep it off, even when I sampled a few too many varieties of the delicious fudge available on Mackinac Island in Michigan!  You can read all about our trip and some of the events of our summer in other posts.

Writing this blog for you is something I still really enjoy, along with my two columns for our local newspaper.  Just recently I also wrote an article for a newsmagazine called ChristianWeek (you can find them on the Internet) and have been asked to do another for their February, 2013 edition.  I’m still always looking for new writing markets and opportunities and still working on that novel.  My counselling practice continues to be very busy and I’m working four long days each week, even though I had hoped that would change this year, and thus not finding as much time for writing as I would like.  We had a second counsellor in the branch office where I work for my agency for a time but she left us after only a few months when her husband was transferred to another province.  So, it’s back to just me, at least for the foreseeable future.

My husband, whom I affectionately call "the squire," continues to enjoy retirement and loves searching the Internet for travel destinations and planning our trips.  He also makes sure to check in on his mother in Winnipeg more often, as she has had some health issues recently.  When he’s home the dogs keep him busy and also keep him company when I’m at work or involved in church activities. We lost our beautiful German Shepherd, Lady, to old age at the beginning of January but two energetic beagles are a handful even without a German Shepherd to divert them with play.  

They don't look too active here, but you should see them just before their supper time!

 In the spring Garry built me a third raised garden, which I really enjoyed.  Our summer was quite hot and dry so some vegetables weren’t quite as nice as I had hoped but others, like the beans, were excellent.

With any kind of luck, my Mom, my mother-in-law, all our children, and their families will be with us for Christmas Day this year.  I’m looking forward to having 14 people at the table and I have an appropriately large turkey waiting in the freezer!  Gifts are purchased; wrapping is nearly done; the house and tree are decorated; and the baking is … well, let’s just call it a work in progress.  But it will be done; it always is.  I remind myself that Christmas is not just about food, although there’s a lot to be said for the smell of roasting turkey… and the taste of cheesecake.

Right now, thanks to days of fog and hoar frost followed by colder days that brought lots of fluffy snow, we live in a Christmas card.  The trees are coated with white lace crochet work and topped off with snow-sugar icing.  Every branch, twig, and pine needle has become an intricately beautiful work of art.

This picture and the one at the top are taken in colour!

All in all, it’s been a memorable year for our family; life has been very hard at times and yet very good at other times. The hardest times make a person appreciate the support and prayers of family and friends and so, as we count our blessings and grieve our losses, we’re still grateful that we can count you among our dearest friends. In closing, I wish you and yours a very blessed and merry Christmas season and offer best wishes also for a happy and healthy New Year.

A Blue and White Day

I'm feeling a little blue today.  Ordinarily a day like today would have been high on my list of favourite days.  Lots of good things have happened today, but I'm blue anyway.

It’s snowing outside, has been all day.  My world here at the end of my country mile has morphed into a snow globe, complete with huge swirling snowflakes, frost on the windowpanes, and doggie footprints in the new fallen snow. There’s a wind; it’s too raw and icy cold to go out.  I’m enjoying it all from inside my cozy house.  Everyone is safe at home.  And it’s the weekend … 

 

I’ve spent my day being good.  Chores are done; we had an excellent supper (if I do say so myself); I’ve caught up with essential emails; and I did some research for my next series of newspaper articles.  I’ve even begun a little Christmas baking, a lovely thing to do on a snow-globe kind of a day.  I think now I deserve to take the evening off and enjoy some pleasure reading.  As a treat before bedtime, I might start the next chapter of the novel I’m working on – but only as much as I feel like writing – absolutely no pressure tonight.

A few years ago, before Alzheimer Disease hid the best of my father from us, I’d have called home and talked to Mom and Dad, likely ending up in a religious or philosophical discussion with Dad for a half hour or so.  I miss that so much, miss him being there, even if I couldn’t talk with him like we used to.  And hence the blues.  

 But now I’m still going to call my Mom, see how the weather is treating her there, and enjoy a bit of visiting time with her.  Then it’s more “me” time.  And, hopefully soon I'll be more able to say what I used to say, "Don’t you just love snowy weather and weekends?"

Papa's Girl

(Papa - 1921-2012)

Once again, it's been far too long since I've posted here.  I had a couple of items ready to go but life intervened and they just didn't feel appropriate any more.  One item, for example, was a very cheery one about how cozy and warm a stormy weekend earlier this month was shaping up.

And then, that same weekend I got a phone call and everything changed ... And then two more calls in the night.  I ended up driving out to western Manitoba where my parents live and joining Mom, my brothers, and my sisters at my dear Dad's bedside as he laboured to leave this world.  He passed away to a better world at 2:27 a.m. on Wednesday, November 14 and left us behind to miss him and find our world diminished by his absence.

It was an intense week and by the time funeral was over on Saturday, November 17, we were all ready to return to our normal lives.  But, how do you do that when you're in the midst of recognizing what an impact this person, who is no longer here, had on your world?   My Mom has more than once described me as a "Daddy's girl" and I now found myself thinking how I was going to be Daddy's girl (or Papa's girl, as I usually called him Papa) without him here.  For two weeks now, I've been at a loss ... and feeling lost. 

Yesterday, I told my brother Ron how I was feeling  and he said, "I'm surprised to hear that, Jo (my brothers are the only ones allowed to call me Jo).  Because of your deep faith and what you know about human nature through your work, I thought you'd handle this differently.  I'm glad, though, that I can offer you some comfort for a change."

And I've been thinking about Ron's words ever since.  Just this morning I realized that he told me pretty much what Papa would have told me had I been able to confide in him.  Papa was very wise and a man of faith; he lives on in Ron and my other siblings, hopefully even in me.  And that thought alone is enough to make me feel a little more oriented in my life.

Now, I want to live my life in such a way that I honour my Papa ... and that I deserve to join him in heaven some day.  Thanks, Ron, for nudging me to go on being Papa's girl.

S.O.W.

Oh my, life has been so crazy that it's been over a month since I posted. That's definitely not fair to my faithful readers, although it would serve me right if I didn't have any of those anymore. My deepest apologies to those of you who keep checking but find nothing new.

And, no ... S.O.W. doesn't have anything to do with pigs; it stands for "state of the writer." The writer is not only apologetic for her long absence from this blog but also very grateful for every reader. A big welcome goes out to my nephew Eric, who informed me last weekend that he reads this blog! What a sweetheart he is; I suspect not too many 23 year-old guys would read their auntie's blog.

He told me this after I had put him to work helping me set up a bedroom in my parent's (his grandparents) new condo that we were moving their life into last weekend. That's part of the reason there have been no new posts here recently. I usually add my posts on the weekends and I've been gone a few weekends helping Mom pack, visiting Dad in the hospital, and finally helping the move to happen. And then, because I'm still working four days a week, of course work had to get really busy, with lots of meetings and extra clients.

Of course, it didn't help that I took a couple of weeks holidays in the middle of September to go tour the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and Niagara Falls area with my husband. But, oh my, did we ever have a good time. I was really pleased that my knee injury (see last post) didn't prevent any of the things I wanted to do and see from happening, although I was pretty sore at the end of some of those days of touring, especially when more walking was required. 

                   
                             (Here's a shot of me with the Horseshoe Falls in the background.)

                       
                        (And one of the two of us as we approached the much more impressive
                                                    Canadian side of Niagara Falls)

I've also been busy with my regular writing assignments for our local newspaper and picked up a delightful assignment from ChristianWeek, a Winnipeg based Canadian magazine. My article about depression at Christmastime should appear in their December issue. I submitted it last night and now I finally have time to get back to this blog, which I have missed writing.

In the end, the state of this writer is apologetic, grateful, and happy to be writing for you once more. Thanks again for your patience.

Things That Go Bump In The ... Kitchen

 No, unfortunately this story is not about one of my dogs.  I wish I could blame one of them for some part of it but it is, in the end, just one of those things that happens.

On Friday, August 3, when I was in the middle of a seven-day holiday from work, I decided to grab a book, a can of diet Coke, and spend a little time on the deck before I started supper preparations.  In hindsight, I’m wishing I had chosen to start supper early.

As I strode through the kitchen, I was thinking of the book I was looking forward to reading and the sunshine I love to bask in on the deck.  I was startled when I suddenly realized I was falling forward, as I hadn’t tripped on anything, nor had I, as often happens to me, turned my ankle.  At this point, a month later, I can only think that the inflamed tendon in my lower left leg gave way and pitched me forward.

I fell hard, flat on the kitchen floor, bruising myself in several places, twisting my glasses awry as they smashed into my cheekbone (fortunately only a small cut – no shiner), and smashing my left knee severely.  The knee promptly swelled and, by the time my husband heard my calls a few minutes later and helped me to the recliner, it was swollen to the size of a pineapple and already rivaling the glorious colours of the brightest  rainbow.

 This is after one week, when some of the colour was already beginning to fade.

 But, as you can see, the rest of me isn't in terrible shape.  I think I'll live!

Now, a month later, most of the bruising has faded but I’m still walking as little as possible, still have a significant swelling on that knee, and have to keep it up on a chair whenever I sit down.  It’s made working at the computer awkward, put a holiday planned for late September in jeopardy, and generally caused me all kinds of stress and anxiety.

It’s an odd feeling when life is going along normally and suddenly something unexpected happens to change everything.  You realize how much you were taking health and mobility for granted.  My mobility hasn’t been the greatest for many years but it’s even worse now and it looks like it may be awhile before it returns to its former level, if ever.

So, I now have lots of opportunities to practice the positive thinking I often urge on my clients and to refocus my gloomy or anxious thinking on appreciating everything I still have to make life good.

Terror in the Bean Patch

Who would have thought that a simple excursion to the garden to pick a few beans for supper could be such an adventure?

I love fresh-picked and cooked-to-perfection beans, green or yellow, with my summer time suppers.  This year I planted mostly pole beans and have been amazed and delighted with how well they grew.  Of course, it's hard to create suitable supports for plants that could grow to 10 feet or more in height.  Knowing that I can't reach that high to pick my beans, I supported my plants on wooden stakes and chicken wire 6 feet high.  When the plants rapidly reached the top of that structure, I trained the vines to grow back down the wire.  This way, I thought, all my yummy beans would grow at an easy-to-reach picking height.

 All I wanted was a pail of beans.

What I hadn't taken into account was how bushy this double thickness of stems, leaves, and vines would be.  Long before the first pods ripened, I realized that there was now very little space left between the rows for me to step in and pick.  Ah well, I decided, I'll just have to take my chances at being "swallowed" by the bean patch.

Little did I realize how tense it would be in there.  I stepped in between the leafy vines and immediately felt hundreds of rough-surfaced leaves leech on to my knit top.  After only two steps I had vines across my ankles and lifting my feet to take a third step promptly tangled the vines tighter about my feet.  But ... I was managing, picking lots of long, plump beans and tossing them into my nearby pail.

Until, I reached for a bean at face level and... it blinked at me!  A green tree frog sat there, with nothing to stop it from leaping directly into my face, if it so chose.  Now, if you know me at all, you will understand that I'm terrified (it's actually a phobia) of all creatures reptilian and only slightly less panicked by  creatures amphibian, especially when I'm startled by them.

I shrieked, turned to scramble out of there, and ... couldn't move, held fast by adhesive leaves and twining vines.  (The makers of Velcro could learn something from the texture of green pole bean leaves).  It took a mighty wrench that tore away the top half of several plants and the lower vines of several more to get me away from that basically harmless little tree frog.  If frogs could laugh, this one would have roared, for sure.

As usual, I felt foolish later and it didn't take me long to go back in there to get the rest of my beans.  But removing those leaves clinging to my clothes was the painstaking chore of several hours, as I had to lay my top in the sun half the day to dry the leaves out enough that they would release their grip and then slowly peel and pick them away from the fabric.

Whew! Made it out alive!

Ah, but did those beans ever taste good.  I think they're worth braving the bean patch for again. And I'll keep an eye out for moving creatures ... while I pray that no snake goes in there to hunt frogs!

Signs, Signs

 One of my favourite past times when I’m traveling a country mile anywhere is to read the signs I encounter, especially if I’m not driving.  Some signs are clever or witty, some are very blunt and eye-catching, some are helpful, and some just bother me.

Not very helpful, I'd say 

Several months ago I saw one, in front of a church located on a more urban mile, that proclaimed:

“Christians are too blessed to be depressed.”  

Well, that just made my blood boil.  Faith in Jesus Christ does not offer us immunity from mental illness, just as it doesn't give immunity from any other illness.  I know many sincere and faithful Christians who cope with depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and many other mental illnesses.  There are as many Christians who live with these illnesses, as there are people of other faiths or of no formal faith alliance.

A sign like this merely puts a burden on Christians who are dealing with a mental illness.  Instead of offering the resources of the church and some empathy or understanding, this sign says, “If you’re depressed, it must be because your faith isn’t strong enough; you’re not trusting in God’s blessings,” a message whose impact can only to be increase a person’s depression and alienate him from the church.

I saw another one recently that bothered me in a different way.  The first one hurts people with mental illness; this one insults God:

“Hardships are intended to make us better, not bitter.”

God did not make us for hardships; God does not intend any hardship in our lives.  God created us to be young, happy, and healthy with God in Paradise forever.  It is the sin of humanity that causes hardships, be they illness, age, death, war, poverty, greed, mental illness, abuse…  These are things we brought into the world and it’s high time we stopped blaming God for them.

Hardships can, and often do, make us better people as we learn and grow from the lessons they sometimes offer.  Hardships are more easily handled if we align our hearts and minds with God and God’s people.  But the wording of this sign says that God sends the hardships to make us better.  I refuse to believe in a God who says, “Hmm, this person needs to learn wisdom; perhaps I should give her cancer, or maybe kill one of her children.”

I’d like both of these signs to say something that invites us to bring our troubles to God, something that reminds us that God is always there for us and grieves with us when the sins of humanity cause us pain and suffering:

And the sign said everybody welcome, come in, kneel down and pray
But when they passed around the plate at the end of it all,
I didn't have a penny to pay, so I got me a pen and a paper and I made up my own little sign
I said thank you Lord for thinking about me, I'm alive and doing fine.

(5 Man Electrical Band)

 (Okay, I’ve had my rant; I feel better now.)

Eliminate the Stigma of Mental Illness

Did you know that one in five people worldwide will have a mental or neurological disorder at some time?  This virtually guarantees that every single person will be impacted by mental illness, either in his own life or in that of a family member or friend.   So, no one can say, “Mental illness doesn’t affect me.  And no one can risk stereotyping people who have the illness; it will, sooner or later, strike very close to home.

And did you know that nearly two-thirds of people who have a mental illness never seek professional help for it?  The negativity, fears, and stereotypes that prevail about mental illness are one of the largest barriers to people seeking help.

One definition of stigma is “a mark of social disgrace.”  Our own fears and distrust lead us to think about people with mental illness differently than we would if they didn’t have a mental illness.  Examples stigma against mental illness can take include:

Stereotyping:   for example, assuming that people with severe mental illness can never hold a job or have a family.

Discrimination:   for example, not considering persons with mental illness for volunteer positions, renting a home, or employment, because we know they have, or have had, a mental illness.

Fearfulness: leads us to purposefully avoiding them.

Language: making fun of people with mental illness or perpetuating stereotypes makes it harder to eliminate stigma.  “Crazy” “cuckoo” off her rocker” “loose screw” “out of his head” “losing it” – the list of our insulting words and phrases is endless.   As is our insulting body language – smirking, twirling our fingers close to our heads, rolling our eyes, making faces, intentional twitching …

 Eliminating stereotypes and stigma of mental illness is a huge goal.  We can each do our part and gradually change will happen.  Three things things you could do are:

Learn:   When we’re ignorant of the facts, we’re more likely to rely on a stereotype or false belief.  Information about mental illness is all over the web or in books.  Knowing some basic facts, such as that most people with mental illness recover well, can help reduce stigma.

Watch Your Mouth:  Change your language.  Start using language that focuses on the people, not the illness, saying “people with mental illness” rather than “the mentally ill.”    Eliminating derogatory terms like “psycho” and those listed above.

Listen:  If you know a person with mental illness, listen to his or her story and experience.  You don’t need professional treatment knowledge to listen.  Just offer the same respect and listening skills you would offer any other friend.

Pros and Cons Of Being A Grownup

The other day as I drove home to my stretch of country mile, I found myself thinking that right in that moment life was pretty good.  I was glad I was a grown up and, for the most part, pretty pleased with the kind of adult I'd turned out to be. 

As a child and as a teen, I just couldn't wait to grow up.  I was sure I'd have it made, if I could only leave childhood behind and step confidently in the world of adults.  Well, here I am, a real honest-to-goodness grownup for quite some time now, chronologically at least.

And it's great ... most of the time.  There's lots to like about adulthood and then again, some things that aren't so great.  Here's part of my list of pros and cons:

1. Pro: I can make my own choices.

    Con: I have to make my own choices.  And they come with responsibilities!

2. Pro: No one tells me what to do (and if they do, I don't have to do it - see #1)

    Con: No one ever helps me out by telling me what to do.

3. Pro:  I can make my birthday as special as I want.

    Con: I have to go to work on my birthday.

4. Pro: I can eat all the ice-cream and junk food I want.

    Con: I know what's in that stuff and I hate what it does to my scale read-out!

5. Pro: No curfew!  I can stay up as late as I want.

    Con: I can't do all-nighters like I used to when I was young.  Darn, I need my eight hours!

6. Pro: I have my own money and choose how to spend it.

    Con: This must be a myth.  First, I have to work for my own money - no more allowance.  Then, by the time I pay all the bills; there's nothing left to choose how I spend.

7. Pro: I get to take great vacations.

    Con: Yes, I know, I have to pay for them ... but I still get to have great vacations!

 A child I know summed it up for me from his perspective:

"Kids can go on fun rides at the fair and they can have pets. You do not get close to death when you are a kid but when you are grown up you might get close to death, really close. When you are a kid you can't die. Or, I guess, sometimes you can. I like being a kid because it is cool."

So, adults of the world, there's the verdict.  We're not cool, we're close to dying, and we should never have grown up.  Kids: take it from us nearly dead, uncool grownups:  stay cool; stay alive; don't grow up.

When Inspiration Strikes

I almost blew it again today.  While on a drive to enjoy some other country miles, my thoughts were idling, almost in neutral, when the gears suddenly started turning.  One idea led to another and now, at top speed, my mind was churning out a promising idea to write about, maybe to post as a blog.  Hmmm, I mused, I should make a note of that so I don't forget when I'm home and ready to write.  No, I contradicted myself, I'd never forget this one.

But my experience says otherwise.  How often have I come to my desk and racked my brain, trying to remember the idea I was so excited about yesterday or last week?  Oh, if only I'd quickly written down a few key words, is then my lament.  But, alas (such a delightfully outmoded and tragic word ... and one of my favourites), I failed to make note of it.

I'm trying to correct that lately. No matter how struck I am by a good idea in the moment, I know I'll forget it if I don't write it down somewhere.  So, I've stashed notebooks everywhere... in my office, my car, my briefcase, pretty much every room in the house and every bag I own, and especially in my purse.  I used to buy purse-sized notebooks; recently I've switched  to buying notebook-sized purses.  Priorities, right?

There's nothing I like more than a good-sized spiral notebook and a cushion-grip, fine-point, black-ink pen, just like this combo.  I usually have a good supply of new ones just waiting for me to be inspired.  The stationary department is my biggest temptation in any store and I need to be chained up in August and September when almost every store you go into displays stacks and stacks of different coloured and beautifully textured notebooks.

I do most of my organized writing on my computer keyboard and my arthritic fingers are grateful for the relief offered by modern technology.  That said, I still can't get by without my trusty notebooks for those inspiring moments that come out of the blue; then I wouldn't feel like a real writer without pen and notebook at hand.  

What was the idea that came to me on our drive today?  I thought I should write a blog post about how important it is always to have a notebook handy, in case inspiration strikes.  Did I have one handy?  Yes, thank goodness!

Precious Moments

No, I'm not talking about the adorable, big-eyed child images that we all associate with the brand Precious Moments.  I'm actually talking about these guys: two of my "baby" brothers, who came out to see me yesterday.  

Poor guys, they rode over three hours in the blistering heat and arrived here to find that our AC had conked out the previous evening and there was little relief from the sweltering temperatures to be found in my house.

Despite that, we had a great visit.  And I appreciate it more because one of my brothers (Steve, in the green shirt) brought his bike out to Manitoba a week ago, all the way from where he lives in British Columbia.  He came to visit Mom and Dad in western Manitoba and I'm flattered the two of them rode across most of the province to see my country mile here in the southeast.  Steve and I just don't get to see each other enough, thanks to the geography between us, so it was a real treat for me that he made this effort.  And I'm sure the fact that he loves to ride had very little to do with it!

The other good-looking fellow is Ron, whom I'm fortunate enough to see a little more often but somehow it's never enough.  He and I are somewhat soul mates, I think, and time spent with him is always precious time.  The way the day worked out I got one-on-one time with each of them and lots of together time with both.

Hmmmm, now how can I get my third brother, Carl, to come visit at the same time?  The precious moment could be even more precious!

So Spoiled!

I am so spoiled.  We've been without air-conditioning for two days now and we're in the middle of a heat wave here on my country mile.  We're doing everything we know to keep the house cool but by 4:30 in the afternoon we hit 28.6 degrees -- inside!  Of course, that's when it was 34.6 outside, so technically it was cooler in the house.

Today, I'm writing in the noon hour; we're waiting for the air-conditioning guy (whom I'm tempted to hug when he arrives); and it's 35 degrees outside.  Our house is humid from our attempts to cool it with open windows overnight and fans pulling in moist air.  And it's already 27 degrees in here.  No one slept much and no one has energy for much of the work that needs to be done.  I'm on holidays for a couple of days yet and feeling a little frustrated that all the things I wanted to do are not happening.

This is about all that's happening at my house right now.

I really am spoiled.  Do you hear the whine in my voice?  After years of taking climate control in my house for granted, I'm having a taste of reality for a few days.  There are some folks, even here near the end of my country mile, who have to live like this all the time - some out of choice, others out of necessity.  And there are other brave and patient souls who live in places in the world where our "heat wave" temperatures are the normal conditions and they manage to get on with life.  I'm just waiting for it to be over, so I can get "back to normal."  Yes, I really am spoiled.

So, while I hate to admit it, this is probably good for me.  It should, at the very least, make me a little more appreciative of how good I have it most of the time.  How, I wonder, did my mother raise six of us kids, tend a huge garden, keep up with all that laundry, bake all our bread and buns, and produce healthy delicious meals every day -- when air-conditioning was not the norm and only the very wealthy enjoyed its benefits?  My mother, now comfortable in her well-deserved air-conditioned home, is my hero.  Thinking of what she accomplished makes me realize it all over again:  I really am spoiled!