fresh homemade

Don't get me wrong. I love Christmas. I love to make things. It's too bad that the making things always ends up being so rushed!

I'm writing now (yes, 11:30 Christmas Eve) as I'm waiting for my husband to return from his shop. He went over to "put the truck in and clean a few things out" and I went to have a bath. Well, my hair is almost dry, and he's not back.

I think he must be handcarving my present. Or perhaps it is one of those "some assembly required" gifts. Has me curious, though...

Today was chaotic as usual for Christmas Eve. See, the big guy won't come to a messy house, so we have to clean Christmas Eve. It's an annual event. I was trying to prepare special meals for tomorrow as well as the kid requested supper, so I was somewhat excused.

And I wasn't finished the nighties yet. But, I made crumpets and crimini mushroom/broccoli quiche and seafood lasagna (except I forgot to buy lasagna noodles, so it was seafood lasagna with bowties) and then I steamed my duck with fresh rosemary, garlic and lemon. Still can't get the smell off my hands.

Dale was taking advantage of the day by installing the laminate floor in Jo's room. That's not usually a 2 person full-time job, but this stuff was different. The panels were 4' x 16", for starters, and instead of the "knock together" method, this was lift and click. Which would have been fine if you didn't have to lift the whole row. He got it finished after supper and now has very sore hands from beating the panels into place.

Anyway, after cooking like a fool, helping lift the floor into place (or leaning on it while Dale did the work) and countless loads of dishes, I went downstairs and finished up the nighties. Fortunately I only had lace, ribbon, elastic and buttons to do, and then just cut off the ends.

I wondered if the whole homemade nightie tradition was worth it this year - I could have probably found something at Sears to fit them both. But I guess it must be. The girls insisted that they were princesses in their long gowns. I always end up making the nighties too long, but the year's growth seems to work that out. So for Christmas Eve, the girls have no feet and dirty ruffles. By the next Christmas Eve Eve, you can almost see their knees. It has turned into a cute part of our Christmas tradition, and the sweat equity makes me appreciate...something.

Anyway, I sure hope he gets done over there soon. I still have scones to make up tomorrow morning - even have the currants for them, and my butter is resting in the freezer for fresh grating.

Have a fantastic Christmas, everyone, hope it brings everything that you could ask for!

Unexpected gifts

I have found, over the years, that I always seem to get some unexpected gifts at this time of year.

Being a good Guider, I try very hard to have a "reciprocal" unexpected gift available at all times. Thus I stock up on chocolates and trinkets and little things that can always be thrown into a gift bag, should the need arise.

As my kids have grown, I have also added "birthday party type" gifts to my stash. I always shop at Boxing Day sales (online, of course) and stock up on the $10-$15 gifts that I like to have around just in case the birthday party invitation comes home on Friday afternoon for the Saturday party. It's happened. This year, though, we haven't gone through the gift stash as much as I thought we might.

But then, I also have the fortunate position of being a leader/teacher/coach - whatever you want to call me. So that brings "teacher" gifts. And, most of the people who give "teacher" gifts know about my restricted diet. The girl who always gives me chocolates (homemade, truly yummy, but verboten this year) shocked me with a gift card to Coles. Now, when I get gift cards for teachers, I do little ones. This wasn't a little one. I now have to figure out what to do with that - I know a thank you note is in order, but it is difficult to know what to do when you give shortbreads and dollar bubble bath and get a cash valuable gift in return.

And, from another unexpected corner, the girls' soccer coach has gone out and bought the whole team pj pants with soccer balls on them. Soccer is in the spring/fall. I had completely forgotten about the generous man. So now Charlotte is writing up a Christmas card and we're dropping off some cookies that the girls made.

Perhaps we can make up for our unexpected gifts. I'm dropping off baking (including fruit cake) to a friend who hasn't had time to make hers. I can't eat it anyway, so it only seems fair.

And last night we realized that one of our little girls at the meeting was looking pretty sad. Upon discussion, we discovered that her mom (single, working) is owed a pile of cash that was going to help pay for Christmas for the kids. So I came home and called up a nice lady from church who works with the Christmas Cheer board and told her that we could donate something to that hamper.

So now, my unexpected gift cupboard is bare. That, too, is an unexpected gift.

planning Christmas dinner

It's official. I'm turning into my mother-in-law. Or maybe my dad. Not sure which...

That's pretty disturbing - maybe I should explain. Here it is, December 17th, and I'm planning a meal that is more than a week away.

My diet still hasn't improved much. I attempted supper again last night - that was silly, to say the least. My evening was a write-off. I get to see a dietitian on the 23rd, although she didn't sound optimistic about finding me much else to eat.

So, the traditional Christmas dinner of turkey, stuffing, sausage, turnip, potatoes and gravy and vegetable seems a little much to cook, especially for four people.

But, Food TV sent me an e-mail yesterday with suggestions for a Victorian Christmas dinner. I looked it over and decided that it seemed more sensible for my limited diet. A smaller bird, different side dishes that I might be able to eat. The brunch looked good too. But, where to get a goose?

My local Bigway came to the rescue. The new store is open, and I went shopping there yesterday. No goose, but they did have a little duck. I bought it - the girls were excited to try duck, so we're away. I still need to find some dried apricots for the add-ons - but I'll try the local stores for that. If I can't get dried ones, I still have time to dehydrate. I can't eat them, but they're a favourite with Dale & the girls anyway.

As I'm perusing the internet this morning, though, I read the Globe's TV columnist about this particularly odd Canadian food fascination. As he says, no one will attempt Food TV's "Victorian Christmas" - I suppose that officially makes me a food geek.

I'm still looking for a good crumpet recipe, by the way - if you have one, please send it along.

In the meantime, I have to go finish my specialty. I'm making Christmas jello for hot lunch tomorrow, and I still need to layer the lime on top of the cherry in the clear plastic cups.

schoolyard or parliament?

This morning my seven year old, reading over my shoulder (as usual - I wonder what the acronym for that would be? cos? cRw?) wanted to know what parliament was up to. There are a lot of news stories about that, and I'm trying to keep informed. Not that I can do anything much, but I want to learn about the interesting vagaries of our constitutional monarchy that allow for the concept of this coalition thing.

Anyway, she wanted to know what it was about. So, I'm trying to explain. When I see her eyes glaze over in discussion of Liberal & NDP I reverted to an analogy using her school. Luckily, we have classes with different populations. So, the Conservatives became the grade 5's (have the most people by themselves), the grade 4's became the Bloc, grade 3 was the Liberals and grade 2 the NDP. At this point I'm inwardly giggling, realizing how true this is.

The explanation that the Grade fives had done something silly with their power and now the grade 2, 3 & 4 were joining together to make a team to try to run the country worked well. Explaining that grade four were in it just for themselves, as they really didn't care about the rest of the school also was taken in stride (that brings different concerns about the real grade four, but that is where a lot of her frenemies are...)

We closed the discussion with the idea that the principal is going to have to step in and either close school for the rest of the year or call an election or tell which "team" to lead, and that she had a tough job. And the superintendent is ultimately in charge, across the ocean.

I'm really unsure that our parliamentary system should be analogous to an elementary school playground, but the similarities are certainly there.

She came back to ask how anything can get done in the country if the classes are having fights. I had to tell her that nothing is getting done. For us, it means that the act of parliament allowing for the final payment on our 2007-08 wheat board crops will not likely pass until this is figured out. Merry Christmas - you're not getting paid, because we're having a schoolyard brawl.

It's amazing how a seven year old can figure out what really matters...

cooked

Today was a PD Day. More specifically, it is the Manitoba Provincial in-service day. So every educator in the Province is supposed to attend sessions in Brandon or Winnipeg (and I presume other central locations, but I don't know where).

It also means that every child in the province has the day off. And, wouldn't you know it, we needed a few things from Brandon today. Specifically, building materials. I needed to hit another store on the North Hill to finish up some shopping for next month. We didn't have to do much. Which was a bonus - there was no parking at WalMart today. And Canadian Tire apparently was a write off too.

So, we took off at a leisurely pace this morning, stopping to drop off some tires to be repaired. We went to Brandon, bought our stuff (Home Depot - no crowds. Where I was - well, I walked around for a while until I could actually shop - too busy.) And realized that we had finished too early for the tires to be done. So we went for lunch at a busy restaurant and then left town.

On the way home, Dale's dad phoned. Grandpa and grandma had been looking after my nephews (four of them) as both parents were in Winnipeg at sessions. And Grandma had fallen sick. Like, in bed sick. So, of course, we offered to take the boys to our place and have them play for a while.

Okay. No problem. Grandpa dropped the boys off about 2:30 or so, said he'd be back in an hour to pick them up. Kids played outside.

I fed them brownies and lemonade at 3:30.

The kids all decided to go in 'cause it was getting dark at 4:30. That's when the phone rang - grandma was asking if we could come and pick up the pork chops she had thawed for supper and maybe keep the boys. Grandpa was sick.

So, Dale went over, and the eldest brother went too. He picked up all of the overnight stuff - it didn't seem fair to anyone to leave the kids with sick grandparents when we could put them up. And I started peeling potatoes. We pulled out the big pots, put a leaf in the table and sat down to a rather nice (if chatty) meal.

Just as we're sitting down, the phone rings again. It's my other sister-in-law. She had promised her little guy that he could play with the boys today when she got home. And he would have been devastated had he not been able to. So, by 7:30 tonight, my house was romper room. Seven children, aged 4-10, in various states of hyper, in my basement.

I was debating whether I should have had my painkiller tonight - restaurant food (and trying to make a good show of eating my supper) did not really agree with me. But, my sister & brother in law are going to stop by to check in when they get home from Winnipeg. They have to sleep at grandma's - or they can have our couch. I'd best not take the pill that will knock me out for 12 hours if more people are coming. And I have six kids to feed for breakfast.

Unfortunately, my wine is in the cold room downstairs. Beside four sleeping boys, behind a lego castle. I think I'll have to send Dale to fetch that. I'm just cooked.

the ritual slice

I have just finished making a slice.

That means that I have just finished concocting a 9x13 heart attack worth more than the Gross National Product of Swaziland. It is one of those "volunteer" efforts that come with living in the general vicinity of the Hamiota rink.

Let me elaborate on volunteer cooking.

If the product is to go to the school, it must be nut free, preferably soy free and not messy. I have to be a volunteer cook for hot lunch this week, so I'm making rice krispie cake. It doesn't manage to fall into the whole nutritional policy of the school, but it comes a lot closer than say...a cookie. We don't serve those for hot lunch, as they aren't nutritious.

At least when one cooks for the church it doesn't have to follow a nutritional policy. But, if one is asked for buns, they had better be white. And if one is asked for a dainty, well, that means a square. And no cheating - it should be from scratch- definitely not something from M&M's. One might get away with bringing bakery buns to the church, but it is considered cheating (and only acceptable if you are deathly ill or have a real job.) Some people also think that the nut/soy rule needs to be followed at church, especially if kids are involved. I don't send anything out of my home that has nuts in it just to be sure.

If one cooks for the blood donor clinic, one has to follow the school nut/soy rule, but not the school nutritional policy. So Chocolate chip cookies are fine. But chocolate-peanut butter is not. Unfortunately, no one tells you about that, so the school nut/soy policy is violated every time there is a blood donor clinic. Which seems hypocritical, as the blood donor clinic is in the elementary school gym.

If one cooks for the rink, there is a phone call. If you live in the vicinity of the rink, you are on a "community" group. And you will get phoned by one person every once in a while to either work at the kitchen, or make food, or both. If you should darken the doors of the rink (Dale curls out of Hamiota), you are also on a "user" group. Then you are phoned more frequently, by a different person, for food or work, or both. And that is different from the Ag society community group, which only phones once a year. They only ever want pies.

A common dish that is required by the rink convenors is a "slice". This must be a 9x13 pan, filled to the top. It must involve dream whip. It must involve pudding. It must have a graham wafer crumb crust. I begged one of my friends for a recipe, which I detest, but I make it for the rink. It involves four packages of dream whip. Two packages of pudding. So I trust that it is an acceptable slice. It also takes a whole afternoon to make.

The only way to get out of bringing a slice is to make two homemade nine inch pies. And by homemade, they mean rolling out the crust, filling, preferably with some berries from your garden and topping with a second crust. Lemon merangue is considered cheating.

Sometimes, just for variety, the phone call will ask for something different. Usually, for grad or for a barrel racing futurity, I'll get called for a dutch oven of potatoes. Or perhaps I would rather cook a turkey for the rink. Now, if I lived in town and could actually get the food to the rink hot, well, the turkey would be okay. Except they do seem to ask for those in the middle of summer. Which isn't fun - who wants a hot kitchen?

My biggest problem, though, is getting my dishes back. Which is why I have doubles of everything I cook with, most of which have my name on them. When you have to drive back to town to get your pan, sometimes it gets forgotten.

So the slice waits, in the fridge with saran wrap over top of toothpicks to keep it looking pretty, in the 9x13 pan with my name on it, until I can drive it ever so carefully into town tomorrow morning for the lunch at the rink. Hopefully Dale can remember to pick up the pan next week - I'll forget for sure.

financial crisis...what crisis?

Oig. While the whole world (it seems) is twitching and has put a drastic halt to spending, we would do the opposite.

How else to explain our purchase of a shiny, new (well, 2008) red combine? The machine costs more than my house. And the land that it is sitting on (all 320 acres.)

Are we confident? Sure that our sector is going to make it out of this market dip unscathed? Hardly. Prices are still relatively dismal compared to earlier this year. There are no big rallies expected in Agriculture. What we hope for is a rationalization of input costs. Things like fertilizer jumped exponentially last year in response (partially) to increased end product prices, but they haven't sunk with the diving end product prices. We're hoping that the supply/demand curve catches up before we have to buy our fertilizer and that we can actually afford it.

Nope, we bought the combine because we couldn't be sure that we could get the custom combiners to harvest this coming year. And while we could have purchased two smaller combines for the price of this one, it is virtually impossible to find trained help during harvest season. So we have to make do with what help we have available. Which meant a big combine that one person can manage.

I guess I knew it was coming some time. But it does feel slightly surreal to own a quarter million dollar machine that only works for a month each year.

Needless to say, the view from my kitchen won't be changing this year. The office is already started and as usual, it will be more complicated than expected. The East outer wall is rotten, so what was meant to be a reinsulation and recover operation has now turned into a complete rebuild. It is the bearing wall, so it is kind of important to have it structurally sound.

We'll find out about the north wall of the office after it is pulled apart - I'm hoping that the studs are okay there, but wouldn't be at all surprised if they weren't. We know that the garage was made from the old house. And, if I look it up in the history book, that was circa 1935 with rough sawn lumber from a logging camp somewhere around here. So, really, it doesn't owe anyone anything.

Anyway, life continues here on the farm. We're still hoping to go away for a vacation this year during Spring break. We still plan on working on the cabin in the summer. And in the meantime, I will continue cooking from the freezer and working through the yarn and fabric stash!

feeling gutkicked

I had an awesome weekend. Quiet. We went on a Home Depot run. I ate at a restaurant (admittedly, I didn't eat a real meal - I had french toast. And water.) But things were good.

Which is why it sucked so badly that I woke up this morning feeling gut-kicked. No, no one actually touched me. I cannot, for the life of me, figure out why I have a pain in my abdomen (completely different spot than my usual, which is still there, but eclipsed by this one since I'm trying not to irritate the one on my side.) Actually, it kind of feels like a muscle spasm. And that's how I'm treating it. Hopefully the muscle relaxant works - but it has been an hour now, and I'm not thinking it is.

I think I'll be spending tonight on the couch. It's less crowded than the bed - I always seem to wake up with less than a foot of bed - most days I estimate that I have a 9 inch wide space to sleep on. Not even the whole length of the bed, either. I find that my portion is somewhere in the middle of the bed - underneath the people (either Dale, or Charlotte, or both) who take up my pillow and above the cat who likes to take up the foot part.

So I don't think that anyone has done anything mean to me. But, the kids did watch Kung Fu Panda at school on Friday...maybe they were stealthy and got me while I was sleeping. Of course, with the little wee sliver of bed that I get to curl up on, the kids must have learned contortionism too...otherwise they never could have reached my tummy regions!

fog

But it is a nice fog. I can't feel the pain in my side for the first time in I can't remember how long. I know it will come back as the happy pill wears off. However, it is so nice just to sit here at my computer, lean back and read.

Yesterday, while I was at the medical clinic with Joelle trying to get the girl's nosebleeds looked at, my doctor (G.P.) stopped me in the nurses room to ensure that all of the lovely blood, lab and other tests had actually been scheduled. I told her that they had, but took the opportunity to tell her that I wasn't really coping well with things. And I asked her what I could do, since I wasn't eating or sleeping. She had to tell me that she couldn't do much for me - when I go in for my scopes and stuff this thing needs to be active. But, she wrote a nice, old fashioned prescription for some pain meds right there.

I'm not allowed codeine. It might "bung me up" and that would be bad considering that one of the things that is being tested for is bowel obstruction (as either primary cause of pain or secondary symptom of disease). So, she went straight to the nerve agents - amitriptyline was the drug of choice. I took the lowest possible dose for pain management, and actually slept on my tummy last night. Didn't knock me out too quickly, so I'll probably take it earlier tonight.

I don't know if I'll over do the eating thing today, but I might try to have a sandwich or something. I made some eggs the other day - maybe an egg salad would be tolerable. I'm still hoping to hear really soon about this test, but if I can have relief overnight, I'll just be sure to take things off of my schedule for the mornings. I think I can do that - it should be a quieter time around here for a while.

Oh, and Jo's nosebleeds checked out as probably hereditary - but her G.P. had her do blood work too. I'm sure I'll find out if any follow-up is needed - I'll be back at that clinic in December at the latest.

back to boost

Well, things aren't changing much here.

Except today, I got up at 4 a.m.

I don't do 4 a.m. 7 is too early, in my opinion.

So, I got to reading. Not that it solves anything, but I was just looking for a little relief. And, there was nothing but the sham-wow commercial on TV.

Basically, there is little I can do that I'm not already doing. I'm already cutting back on much of my diet. However, I know I need to keep some form of nutrition going, so I went to the drugstore to buy a whole bunch of Boost. Again.

Haven't done this for a while, but when meals are a problem I had better try to keep on top of the whole nutrition thing.

So, back to the lovely liquid lunch. Actually, supper. I can handle lunch, although I bought a whole bunch of soup that sort of looked appetizing. I came home with arrowroot cookies, soup, yogourt and sour cream for perogies.

Mmmmm. Oh well, I'm trying. Anyway, off to the rink again tonight. The girls are going to have pasta. I think I'll stick with the arrowroots.

but, on the plus side...

On the plus side...I'm knitting again?
Today has been pretty well awful. Woke up sore and not wanting to be anywhere away from the potty. Which does not work well when the schedule is full of formal type activities.

Remembrance Day went pretty well, overall. Not very many kids, I must admit, but they were well behaved. And while I didn't play the movie that was slated for today, no one paid any attention anyway. The movie problem was that a VHS was scheduled - but the VHS & TV are in the hall. The hall had all of the tables and chairs set up for the luncheon following the service. So I wasn't going to try to navigate through that mess with an A/V cart - I just brought a movie from home. It didn't matter - everyone pretty much ignored the movie- they played games, did puzzles and made art.

We didn't stay for lunch. Jo wanted to, pretty badly, but I can't eat much of anything. So I went home, where at least I could find something that I wanted to eat. KD, anyone?

Then we went back in for the final festival concert. I had a few presentations to make (because I'm on the committee) and Joelle had to say her poem. Thankfully, the whole shenanigan was short.

I have contingency plans in place for the whole week just in case things don't go overly well with me. I think. Maybe I'd better just plan on being at things, even if I'm not one hundred percent. But, if I don't make all three Remembrance Day services, the sky won't fall. If I sit through most of the Guide meeting, well, it's badge evaluation. I should be able to sit. Skating - I might be able to get out of that. Although I have to be there anyway, and exercise puts the pain off for an hour or so. Maybe I won't worry about that as much.

But, I'm knitting again. Just working on a long unfinished object (UFO) - a sweater, for me. I think it will be nice. I don't feel up to doing a whole lot, so knitting fits my energy level. At least it is slightly productive?

healthy

My sister is going healthy. Eating healthier, exercising more. Which is a good thing, since she's been plagued by so many nasty health "thingies" in the last little while. So, good on her! I do feel a bit bad for her family - I know how hard it is to cook more than one meal to satisfy different dietary needs, so it happens rarely in my house. Which means that her husband and sons are along for the duration...and that can be tough on a red meat lovin' guy!

My brother runs. Not a little, but like serious runners do. Apparently it is a "need" they have, one that is only satiated by the pounding of technical rubber on the hard ground. I tried Cross Country running. I (pitifully) ran the 3000 in high school. I suffered from shin-splints. I confess, I have no such need.

My mom diets. And walks. And takes my dad along for the ride. They are currently walking through Central America, trying new foods, and enjoying a healthy part of their retirement. And then they'll come back and try to get "back on plan"...

I do no such things. My idea of a workout these days is climbing the stairs. I still love to skate and do so for two hours a week every week. I love to hike & kayak - but the weather doesn't let me do that these days. And the snow will have to get much deeper before I can snowshoe. I could go on the eliptical...

Not that I feel like doing any of that today. My sore spot was sore when I woke up today. That is never a good thing. I went to the specialist yesterday (gastroenterologist) and she poked and prodded and squeezed and now I hurt. So I suspect that today will be filled with a lot of nothing. Maybe I'll help Jo do some crafts or something for Brownie badges.

My diet is a mess. I'm finding that I eat whenever my body tells me I'm hungry. Which happens about once a day. I try to eat something at mealtimes, but about 2 p.m. seems to be a better time for me to eat. So, it is a good job that I'm home. And I since I cook supper at 2 p.m. a few days a week (before I pick up the girls from school to take them directly to the rink where we stay until 7 p.m. or so), I'm actually not doing too badly.

I continue to take so many iron supplements that I'm careful around magnets. My iron stores showed up as zero a few months ago, so I've been on heavy doses ever since. However, I still feel run down. We'll see where this next bunch of tests go - I donated seven vials of blood yesterday and have another course of "fun" samples to get through today and tomorrow.

And then, hopefully soon, I get to have an upper GI (barium) x-ray and then a gastroscopy and a colonscopy. I find it extremely strange that I want to have these tests done, soon. I think I'd just like to know what's in there making it so I don't want to eat, making me run down, and making my left side hurt.

The discussions are all extremely unpleasant, but my age is making me borderline too old for normal onset of Crohn's disease and statistically young for cancer. I could have "juvenile" colonic polyps (like dad, but early onset), but the doctor suspects my small intestine. The lack of iron, my small stature and the nature of my symptoms are all pointing to something there. Since the pain is lower, that's where most of my previous tests have focused, but they've shown nothing.

At any rate, I still have a life to run (or more specifically, two children to run around to their lives), so I don't have a lot of time to feel too sorry for myself. I wish I could get more done in a day, I really miss my energy. However, I guess I'm doing alright. I can still function, most days. I have had to cancel things and save up for one event in a day, but that is making me prioritize. I'm trying to learn patience.

So perhaps it is better that I'm not running any of my "things" myself at this stage. Hopefully one of our junior coaches from last year will be able to come skating and take over my group soon. The Guides and Pathfinders - well, I have almost figured out what they're doing for the whole year. The festival is essentially over for fall...so I have little to do for a few months on that.

I think I'll tackle my sewing/volunteer room today. After I clean up the lamp that the cats knocked over (and the subsequent broken light bulb), I'll try to make myself a bit of space on my table. It won't help get rid of the work, but maybe having things a little less chaotic will be a healthy thing for me right now.

let go

I'm upset today. The Spark leader and the Brownie leader have together decided that they need to completely cross reference the whole Spark/Brownie program. And, that they're going to attempt to do interest badges during meetings - something that we've done occasionally, but not always.
I am trying to let this go, without much success. I still think that the interest badges have to be done independently as much as possible - my whole thinking about raising independent children requires this.
And, I'm feeling left out.
I have put twelve years into leading this stuff, I wrote a complete manual on Cross-referencing in the program.
It bugs me that they don't want my input.
It also bugs me because they're going to work on badges that Joelle has already done, just so their kids (and the one kid who won't get any badges unless we do them as a unit) get the badge. Which is really tough on Joelle, 'cause she still has a lot of other badges to do, and I've made her do them herself. And I hate to repeat anything with Joelle - something that is hard to explain unless you have a kid like Jo.
But, what do I do? I still have to figure out the whole program for one Guide and one Pathfinder. They won't be able to earn the 26 badges that the leaders are going to give to the Brownies.
Jo could skip the meetings that she's already done, but Char would be devastated.
I guess I could quit, but that wouldn't be fair to my kids. And not fair to me - it is a part of my makeup.
I can't seem to help the leaders - I have tried. I don't think we have the time in meetings to cover off all that they want to, but they won't listen. And I don't know how I'm going to make it fun for the two older girls if all the Brownies are working on is badges - they won't have time for any "fun" games.
So I'm upset. And I have to work all afternoon at festival and then go to skating to teach. So I'm overwhelmed already.
The worst part is, these leaders are my friends and I think they really think they're taking work off of me. They're trying to get me a "delegation" badge. Unfortunately, they're adding to my stress and my workload by taking away the one part that I thought I knew - what theme we were following in each meeting.
Yes, I have to deal with my control freak tendencies. But, it would have been nice to have had some warning that I was losing my unit, the one that I have put so much into.
I wonder if this is what having a teenager feels like?

Sunday Morning Guilt

Good morning.

It is Sunday again. I'm home. I feel horrible. I only have one more week until I can complain to a specialist...but in the meantime I stay as close as I can to a couch and a potty.

Yet in the next fifteen minutes I have to decide whether to take the kids to church.

Hmmm. Doesn't do a thing for me, church. Sorry, but it doesn't, at least in Hamiota.

I would be going because I have to do Sunday School next week. That's another story - I have been scheduled for every Remembrance Day service for the last four years. So the one service that I actually wish I could stay up with the grownups, and take the kids to the whole thing, I'm stuck doing Sunday School. Yes, I'm a bit bitter. But I should prepare. Although I'll be in the church at least twice this week for festival.

I should take the kids this week - they're downstairs watching "High School Musical". The problem is I don't like the service upstairs and now the kids are getting too big for me to sneak downstairs with them.

So I'm stuck, uncomfortable, in a pew, in the front row (because that's where the usher puts you - again, do we need ushers?) because I have chauffered my kids to go downstairs and watch VeggieTales. Next week we get popcorn too! Maybe it is the lack of content - I saw the song sheet up for "I'm going to let it shine" -hide it under a bushel? Um. Sure. I'll hide my light under a bushel. Who wrote that one out? I find the whole service, upstairs or down, lacks content.

I have to do two services this year. Next week and the 15th of February (right in the middle of a five day weekend - no one will show up but us). They're both movie Sundays.

However, I'm finding that the kids don't care if they go. They like to, but they also like to hang out here.

I know I'm picky. I wish I could take them somewhere to a Sunday School that I like. I went to Rene's funeral yesterday (97 years old, so it wasn't sad) - that was just a nice, BCP funeral. I think that is what I'm missing. And what the kids are too. Veggie Tales are fine entertainment, but really, I'm thinking we might have to make a move to somewhere where we get a little more than just popcorn.

Sounds like a lot of my life - we need to make a move for Skating. We need to move for Church. I'm only doing the Guides and Pathfinders - other ladies are doing the Sparks and Brownies, so I've already moved there. And festival, well, it's only for two years. Then it moves too.

Funny how someone so staid can be so transitional.

Hallowe'en is Evil

No, I'm not going fundamentalist on everyone.
But, Hallowe'en is evil, nonetheless.
Yes, I know I do it to myself with my fabric stash and high expectations. But, it is for the kids! Slaving away for a week on a costume that will be worn for one (1) day is tantamount to the effort put into a homemade wedding dress.
Yes, you save some money. No, no one cares.
And besides, this year, Charli wanted the hard costume. Being the second child means she often gets hand-me-downs and second best. So, I had a chance to have a good mommy moment and redeem myself from mommy-guilt.
So, I made it. Sort of.
Whomever designed that pattern should have been shot, 25 years ago, when he/she created it.
Perhaps I had better back up a bit and explain.
I am the lucky recipient of all of my mom's sewing patterns, my aunt's sewing patterns and have a fairly large collection of my own.
Charli was wanting a hallowe'en costume - she wanted to be a brown cat. We have a black cat costume already, but I figured she would find the pattern for the brown cat in the box and we would be just fine. It isn't hard to sew and would be excellent over a snowsuit.
Well, I didn't go through the box first. Big mistake.
Stuck down at the bottom of a box was a never opened Cabbage Patch Kid costume pattern.
Most patterns have their difficulty rating on the front. This one didn't. That should have been my first clue.
For a one size pattern, there were six pages of instructions. That should have been my second clue. But I just thought they were being descriptive. (They weren't. Anything but.)
The pattern called for 7 metres of lace eyelet ruffling and 5 yards of rickrack trim. That should have been a deterrent. Except that I also received all of my Aunt's trim stash, so I could cover that.
Anyway, the costume was made. I skipped making the legs, shoes and hands. And it still took me a week.
Fortunately, Joey wanted to be Lilo. Actually, Joey wanted to be Nancy Drew in the Mystery of the Golden Pavilion, who wears a muumuu, but I told her that I couldn't change her hair colour, so she could be Lilo. And the muumuu - well, that too came from the Aunt Alice fabric stash.

Sorry about the blurry photo, but that should give you an idea. Now I have to go to the school and put them into these things for the afternoon, so they can get them dirty with classroom party snacks before we go out tonight.
Hope everyone has a happy hallowe'en, may it be less evil for you!

cleaning by mouse

Yesterday was eventful. I woke up to put the kids on the bus, looking forward to a relatively quiet morning of sewing (halloween costumes and hemming curling pants) and then an afternoon of skating fun.

As I'm sitting at my computer, I notice that Pixie, our small blonde cat is waiting by my dishwasher. Quietly. She had been complaining bitterly that no one had let her out to prowl the night before (it was horribly cold) yet the door had been opened and she hadn't gone out. She was sitting in my kitchen.

Since it was quiet, I listened and heard a mouse rattling around under one of my appliances.

Well, this is the farm. Mice happen at this time of year. So, I asked Dale (who was downstairs) if he wanted me to wait before I pulled out the stove drawer. That was the easy access point to underneath the appliances.

He came up, I pulled out the stove drawer. No mouse.
Then Dale pulled out the stove. No mouse.
Then he removed my pan storage unit. No mouse.
Then the panels came off the front of the dishwasher. Could hear the mouse, but couldn't see it.
So then the dishwasher got unloaded, the cabinet above it got unloaded, and the whole thing got moved. Small blonde cat is still waiting in the kitchen.
The mouse, of course, took off for the living room.
Pixie, eventually, figured this out. After she had sniffed all of the yuckies behind my dishwasher.

So, now the mouse is behind my couch. As are seven pillows, 4 blankets, 2 urp cloths, a bag of yarn, and a table. I removed all of the soft things while Dale waited to see if the mouse would run out. No, it didn't. Queen cat Mindy was annoyed at being disturbed (she was relaxing under the table), so she meandered out.

I put Pixie back behind the couch. The mouse ran behind the piano. Dale moved the piano. The mouse ran under the fish tank. Pixie remained behind the couch.

At this point, I have no kitchen because it is full of appliances. I have a living room floor filled with soft and cat-furry blankets and pillows.

I decided to give up and go sew. Dale had to go out as well. He set a trap under the dishwasher, since our feline mouse control was a bit ineffective. And then he went to work. But, I only had one seam to do on Charli's costume before I needed to cut some more fabric...in the living room.

Well, my computer is very hard to ignore. I sat down to check the weather & my e-mail. And heard the mouse behind my desk. Out comes all of my "filing" system. Out comes the printer cabinet. Out comes my desk. No mouse.

And that only left the fridge. Which is not a good place to have a mouse. The fridge moved out. Pixie noticed this time and tried to get the mouse, but it had hidden underneath the large and heavy appliance.

I went to cut the fabric, realizing full well that now I had every appliance out from the wall...and of course, that the dust bunnies had all multiplied in their secretive habitat since the last time I had done that. Add to that the various bits of mouse scat (which is not a good thing) and I would have to go find my bleach spray bottle.

I finished sewing most of Joelle's costume, hemmed Dale's pants and returned to my kitchen to bleach the back of my appliances.

Yes, the backs. The part that no one ever sees. But, spraying the mouse scat with diluted bleach before cleaning it is our best defence against Hantavirus. And since I had to do that anyway, well, bleach was as good as anything else to remove the dried on food that drips behind things and the dustbunnies that have glued themselves to the linoleum.

Which means that I now have the cleanest appliance backs of anyone I know.

Pixie, incidentally, caught the mouse while I was eating my lunch. She took it to the bathroom, so Dale just closed the door on the two animals in there. Then he went in and removed the mouse, since Pixie doesn't actually kill and eat mice in the house, she just plays with them. She just kills them outside and leaves them as doormats for us.

Maybe today I'll clean the front of the appliances...

Life in a small town (or near one)

Small towns are "perfect" to raise your children in.

Or at least I think so since I turned out so well.

However, I'm in awe of my mom and my mother-in-law. Either

a) things were considerably different in the 1980's
b) I'm a sucker and do too much or
c) they were superwomen.

Or maybe all of the above.

This week I'm feeling highly overwhelmed and underappreciated. I have given myself the new title of "club mom" for the figure skating club. I'm helping out the president, the secretary didn't know how to take minutes, so I helped her, I schedule the ice, I help pick up the littlest kids so they can learn to skate (and get a sore back and bruises where they kick me), I do the budgets (at least that's my job), I get workers for the kitchen, I explain the programs to the CanSkate co-ordinator (and try to explain the concept of independent practice to the transition parents) I sort out the various activities for the test skaters and I communicate to the community. Actually, I'm about ready to take the girls to skate in Brandon. Yes, I'd pay a fortune in gas and more in ice fees, but I wouldn't have so much work to do!

Now, I know that both my moms served long-term on figure skating executives. My mom did president - I think more than once. And she worked! Kaye did her part too - and she had four kids! I don't know how they managed working at rinks, keeping us clean and busy, keeping school and clubs going, and driving - everywhere.

I'm already tired, and it's just October.

I could quite happily crawl into a hole right now - I have halloween costumes to sew today, need to get myself and the girls ready to skate (and do the general meeting for skating), need to make supper for the rink (we're there from 4 until potentially 8) need to get ready for enrolment tomorrow and should do laundry so I can pack for the weekend. Dale has had to take over the work on the festival poetry, the girls have cooking club at school tomorrow and I still need to get some paperwork done for the farm.

And we need to get things from Brandon...maybe. Our trip west may have to be put on hold - this weekend looks like it might be okay to spray on. So I'm not actually counting on it either way - which means I may be packing like a mad fool on Friday. Or not. I'd like to get away, but I'm not going to get excited...

So, I'm off to go try to figure out my serger. It has been here for months, but I haven't had time to play with it. Charli's costume will be my test run - that could be pretty scary. Took me an hour to thread the thing last night. Wish me luck!

crises of a quiet life

This past week was my week "off". The kids weren't skating. The festival hasn't started (although I need to get the kids working on their speech entries). All I had was Sparks/Brownies/Guides and the annual visit from Uncle Grant on the calendar.

Ha.

Woke up Tuesday and realized that it was the 14th. All of my Guiding registration forms had to be in by the 15th. With the long weekend, I had forgotten to pester the parents who hadn't got the forms to me yet...so I had a little panic in the morning and got all of those brought over. I e-mailed the lady in Neepawa that I was supposed to send them to, then I whipped into town, put them in an expresspost and went to vote. I would have been quicker there if I hadn't been stopped by two people to talk about things the Guides were supposed to do and one person to talk to me about festival. Got home to find...that the lady in Neepawa no longer wanted the forms, she wanted them sent to Winnipeg. Argh. More e-mails to try to meet deadlines that won't happen - and you all know me and being late.

Anyway, I thought that Wednesday might be better. A kindergarten day always allows me to get a bit more done. So I started in on the bookkeeping. That wasn't too bad - I wasn't really that behind, but as usual there were a couple of strange transactions that I had never done before. And my accountant wasn't available. I knew I had to run to town again to do book fair - my kids always love to go, and since his mom couldn't get off work early enough to take him, I had Cole too. So, we're at the bookfair for half an hour trying to convince Joelle that she doesn't need every book, and trying to find the right level for Charlotte, and keep three children's hands out of all of the gadgets and things that are available. It was slightly nuts.

After bookfair I still had a few errands to do, so three kids followed me to the post office, the bank (Jo had a little cheque to deposit herself, so I had to go there) and then the co-op. I don't know what it is about the co-op that makes Char believe it is her own private racetrack, but I was absolutely cooked by the time I got out of there after chasing her. And I still had to clean up before Uncle Grant came over to visit that evening. I need to buy more plastic so that I can stack the boxes of things I just hide away...

While Uncle Grant was here, phone rings - festival. They need me to "volunteer" and the day that they have picked I have appointments in Brandon. So I'm not available...and somehow, I was supposed to have given my schedule to a lady I barely know so that she wouldn't have scheduled me that day? I switched off for a day that I would be around, but it sounded like I had royally messed up the volunteer co-ordinator's chart by not being home. That has to be one of my pet peeves - I am always expected to be available because I "stay home".

Thursday was pretty quiet - I didn't get a hold of my sister for her birthday (I tried...), and I just had to plan my Guiding meeting. Hadn't been in too much of a rush - the early part of the year is always the same for Guides, Brownies and Sparks because we have to work on enrolment. We had enrolment scheduled for November 6th. Three weeks away. No rush until I realized that festival would be in the church on the evening of November 6th, and the sounds from our enrolment downstairs would be very unwelcome to the speech participants upstairs. And, we already planned an early meeting for October 30th to allow parents to do pumpkin carving or costume fittings or whatnot - so we didn't want to do a ceremony that night. Which leaves...next week. Panicked phone calls to Guide Shop to get supplies mailed out, and we had a "rehearsal" meeting. Hope that we can pull it all together next week!

And, it rained/snowed last weekend. That made the oats that were supposed to start moving on Tuesday have had to start moving Friday. Which meant that Dale couldn't take his truck in for its regularly scheduled oil change and checkup. So I had that to do. And since I would be in Shoal Lake, I got to pick up trophies for festival, distribute programs for festival, deposit skating fundraising money, pick up tickets at the bus station for skating, enquire about some "old style" cheques that we're still using on a little used figure skating account, check in with our accountant on the obscure transactions that I have to bookkeep and follow up with half of the skating parents while getting my groceries. Oh, and I had to pay big bills (October 31st is not just halloween, it is the due date for a lot of our inputs and services) and pick up wood for shelves for the canning room.

After school...the dreaded "lice" note - they're in the school again. And, after a quick check of Jo, I started on Char. Who still suffers from Cradle Cap. She's five and a half. And she has a raging case of the flakies right now...so I spent an hour of scrubbing with special shampoo and conditioner and picking away at the poor child's scalp to try to reduce the breeding space for little bugs.

And then there were panicked phone calls and e-mails from the moms of our competitive skaters that their kids hadn't been registered with Skate Canada. Since I thought that had been done in August, and these girls couldn't compete in any competitions without being registered, I spent the next two hours trying to figure out what the heck happened there. That's the president's job, I know, but she was at another meeting and it needed to get done. Turned out that while everything had been set up to register everyone online, the "submit" button hadn't been pushed. I couldn't figure out why we hadn't got a bill yet for registrations - that's because the invoice prints after you press "submit". So now I have another expresspost to do to get the cheque to Ottawa to make sure these kids get registered pronto. Ugh.

I'm not sure if things will be better when we're into the full swing of things - but maybe I'll be more prepared for all of the little minor crises that make my life interesting. In the meantime, we're off to the lake today to close up the place - kind of sad, because it won't be warm enough to be out there, but kind of relieved - soon the snow will fly and this transition will be over.

I don't want to work...

I just want to bang on my drum all day (or something like that...right?)

Yup, I'm procrastinating. Well, I have tried to do some things today. I have phoned people (and left messages, or had to let them go because I got beeped in on, or had to let them go because they were so busy...) I have done lots of little tasks for skating and festival and Guides today. I have checked out my finances, purchased some more necessities, gone to the post office, filled the car with gas and done my civic duty and voted.

But, it is cold. I am cold. I don't want to turn up the heat as then the rest of the house will complain that they are too warm. It is still nasty out - the wind is chilly and it has blown most of the leaves off of the trees - it makes the landscape barren. The snow didn't melt until 11 or so on my front lawn. And it is gray...and very, very mucky. I'm hoping someday to be able to wash my car. There is no point right now - it is the same colour as the truck. That's why we bought a truck that colour, and I would consider the same shade for any vehicle and most of my children's outerwear. But my car will eventually need to be dug out from under the multiple layers of dirt...and I'm not looking forward to doing that little chore!

Took out the winter boots last night and put away the sandals. After the four pairs of summer footwear that my youngest wants to send north were removed from it, there is actually a bit of room in the tub right now. And I'm working on putting the "seasonal" clothing back into rotation. Fleece and turtlenecks aren't necessary during the afternoon, but winter skating season is starting next week, so they might as well be out. Still need to check out the skates and helmet for Char this week - Jo's are in for sharpening already.

And, you can tell the seasons are changing because we're almost out of tomatoes (fresh.) There are still five or six flats of them in the breezeway, but there is more summer type stuff that needs to be put away in the breezeway than there are tomatoes. So we're almost out of the canning season too.

But I guess I knew the seasons were changing when I visited Canadian Tire yesterday to try to buy a "deck box" - you know, one of those huge plastic containers. I was going to use it to get some of my cover blankets out of my garden shed so I could actually fit tools in my garden shed. However, when I went to the aisle that has had these items in it for months, all I could find were Christmas trees and shiny red bows. And yesterday, officially, was Thanksgiving. Haven't even got through Halloween yet. Maybe I could understand if it were an American retailer...but Canadian Tire? At least they weren't playing Christmas muzak...I would have had to run screaming from the store!

Hope everyone had a wonderful thanksgiving anyway...

transitioning into real life

We finished combining on Saturday. From Saturday onwards I have somehow managed to

1. Take a Guide training
   
2. Go to a festival meeting and write up all the minutes
3. Redo the entire figure skating budget
4. Apply for harvest advance programs
   
5. volunteer for the elementary school "learn to speak french" leisure club
6. move all of my peonies, bag up most of my lily bulbs
7. do up 7 quarts of spaghetti sauce, 12 quarts of stewed tomatoes and 7 quarts of canned tomatoes (with Dale's help)
8. do the laundry, try to catch up with my kitchen
   
9. not submit anything to my blog

Sorry. Actually, at least the list looks like I have done something, so maybe I'm not that sorry.

I had planned on writing something witty today, but honestly, it's just one of those days. Had to send out the corrections to the minutes. Had to talk to the skating coach for an hour and a half (I think. Probably longer.) Needed to organize an executive meeting for figure skating to discuss expanding the budget, schedule a planning meeting for the Spark/Brownie/Guide leaders and now the school just called to let me know that Jo says she's not feeling well.

That could just be our bus issue, again. Seems to be a bit better on Kindergarten days, even though I don't think that Char is anywhere near where the older kids are. I can't even say it is one kid in particular since the grade two girls seem to have formed a "spy" club (or something) complete with codes and messages. It is just too bad that it is such a long ride on the bus - it might not be so bad if they only had to spend 15 minutes together.

Anyway, I'm back. I will find my desk, someday. And someday later, I will move it. But we're "not starting anything inside until the snow flies" so it will be a while. And perhaps, sometime, we'll get our provincial electrical company to come out and connect our power to the shop. The wires are laid, most of the lights etc. are in, but the wire can't be connected until the transformer is moved. Doubt it will be today, as we've had periodic power outages all day. I'd better post this before the next one!

Fortunately some of our grain deliveries are coming together. Providing that the snow stays away, we'll move piles (literally) of oats starting next Tuesday, and wheat will be heading to Forrest then too. Not sure when we'll get off the farm to vote...

So, please excuse the sporadic posts while I slide into my other life. It seems rather dull compared to busy time, but I'm not sure that it is much less busy.

halfway. finally.

This seems like a long harvest. Only having one (smaller than usual - we have had 8010's previous years) 2588 combine has made it seem slow. And there is a lot of crop out there - mostly straw, it seems, so that makes things very, very slow going.

For a point of reference, swathing started August 23rd. And I finished it off last night, 36 days later. Both Norm and I were out swathing the wheat - we were supposed to straight-cut it, but first of all, we didn't get a combine that had a header that could do that and second of all, no one's wheat seems to be drying down. Everyone has the same problem around here - we're wondering if it is simply too much plant matter to dry down. We killed the plants with Glyphosate about a month ago, it should have worked by now!

Anyway, Dale trucked grain - we were in little bins of canola yesterday, Norm ran the pull type on one part of the wheat field (his preference) and I had to practice on the big 30 foot self-propelled swather. I only cried once - so that was a good day! My spatial perception needs work (but then, I'm sure I have a disability in that - perhaps there is a name for it). Trying to figure out if the remaining standing crop is 60 feet wide or 62 feet wide is something that takes practice. If it is 62 feet you cut it in two skinny strips first and make a third one so that you don't clip the swath on either side. If it is 60 feet you cut two 30 footers and pray that you went straight. I didn't go straight. Thus the tears. But, I fixed it. And the next chunk I did better.

So today, we're going to try combining the wheat again. And if that goes (which we're really hoping it does), I get to be the housewife today. That isn't my preferred occupation at this time of year - if I am at home and I can't start anything I am less productive than if I'm not home at all. Here, things get messy (two kids, I'm making meals, I'll do down tomatoes or peppers or something); if I'm in the field, it is peaceful. I have no kids. I have no mess (other than grain dust, and a shower gets rid of that). I have no meals to worry about. And the tomatoes wait in my breezeway and I don't have to feel guilty about them.

With any luck at all, we'll finish the wheat tomorrow. Then we'll go back into the oats for a day (these are the yucky oats, the ones we've been dreading all year since they lodged). Then into canola for four or so more days. And then I'll give myself a hangover. I hope.

That's only a week more...considering we've been combining almost continuously since September 12th (sixteen days already) I guess I can survive that long. But, since our best laid plans never actually happen, I'll just be glad when we have this crop in the bin.

We should just be happy to be getting this quantity of crop off- it likely will be the only time in our lifetime that we do. However, it sure has been tough going (we're not doing many acres a day, and the poor combine header plugs almost every swath), and the quality isn't really great. Which only proves the point that you can never have a happy farmer.

wait. wait. wait. wait. wait. Okay, go. No, wait.

I'd better start by saying that I do love harvest. I can think of many reasons why I do, but right now, I'm frustrated.

All "backups" get frustrated. I mean, I have to be on call at a moments notice, so I can't start anything that I can't jump up from. My kids have no routine - currently they're going to Grandma's - maybe. I don't even know if I should be making supper. We have to call the bus driver at night to tell him where the children are so he can pick them up the next morning. And then last night, I probably could have taken them home, but I wasn't going to disappoint two little girls who have their hearts set on a sleepover.

Yesterday I was in the middle of trying to stew tomatoes when the call came. Threw the lid on the pot and finished those up around 1 a.m. I really can't start a darned thing!

So, I'm dressed for harvest, but could run to the soccer pitch if I don't have to truck. Probably not adequately attired for either. And if I do have to do soccer, the kids will be fed frozen pizza. Because I won't have much more notice than that. If I lived closer to a McDonalds, tonight would be a happy meal kind of night. Since nothing is definite, I'll leave the suitcase at Grandma's until 8 p.m. - hopefully we can make a decision by that point.

But, I suppose I'd better head out to the field. I have to be out there, but still have Charli on board - will have to run home really quickly and drop her off if I'm trucking. If I'm not, she's just hanging out with me until I have to run to grandma's and pick Jo up off the bus. It was just easier to send the bus there - since I don't know where I'll be, yet.

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery ... but is still kind of disturbing

We had half a tenth of rain overnight. Ran until 2:30 a.m. and got a bit more done, so that was good, but have not been able to get back at it tonight.

That's okay. I have a bit of salsa to do.

Now, that picture was taken about twelve days ago. So, you can imagine what all is ripe now.

I did up two batches today. Just waiting for them to seal. Still have some stewed ones to do but I'm not starting anything now. Dale has gone out to "feel the swath". Not sure how this is going to go - if he decides to combine I will have a major shift of household to do. I'm somewhat prepared, but hesitate to do anymore towards that as it is really close to bedtime.

Anyway, while I was working on salsa today, Char decided that she needed to have a desk. So she made one.
Note the coffee cup, the cramped quarters and the basket with books in it. Please ignore my desk behind her. But you might notice some similarities. Hers is neater, but she does have some of my habits.

After I took the picture, Char proceeded to embellish her desk. She needed more space (oh, what a surprise!) She gathered things up from downstairs that she needed to work, and borrowed a few things from me.

By the time I had finished up chopping more tomatoes, the "desk" looked like this:

I'm a little creeped out. She has mini-wheats. She has a coffee cup, my stapler, has used another coffee cup to hold scissors (guilty), borrowed my picture, picked up my sticky notes and has annexed both my stool and my chair for her "stuff". If you could see under the stool, there is still a box of books there.

By the time the salsa was done she had brought up a stacking stool as well. She had more room than I do!

And, while I hesitate to draw too many comparisons (maybe she was just trying to be cute), did you see the stress ball she put on the side of the fridge?

I guess she has a good imagination. But somehow, this is still a bit disturbing. Perhaps I need to set a better example...but then again, a messy, eclectic desk would not be a bad thing for a creative child like Char.

Anyway, big thank yous to Mom & Dad for spending the last little while out here keeping the household going while I am the trucker. We appreciate the help more than you know. However, the reading of three bedtime stories each night...not so much. I just got told that "Granny read all of that..." Poor little kid, she's back down to one tonight!

Today was filled with scenes from Cars

So, yeah, just got home after a long day of work. But, the mandatory 5 cups of coffee are keeping me a bit awake yet, so thought I'd share my day with you. Actually, more like my night.

See, work started about 8:30 this morning, but it didn't look like I was going to be needed this afternoon. After shuttling vehicles, augers, tractors etc. to the next field, I went home, made Dale a lunch and prepared to go to Brandon. I wanted to go so I could try on some Carhartt for Women lined bib overalls

Yeah, they're glamourous, I know, but after last night freezing my tooshie off because there was no way that I could put on long underwear out in the field (and no way to pack it anyway) I decided that I wanted to treat myself. These have definite practical benefits for me - number one being that I don't screw up my skipants by wearing them at harvest. Also, because they're not a set of coveralls, there's actually a chance they could fit my short frame.

Anyway, making Dale's lunch. Phone rings. Dale says - hang on, don't go yet. Okay. Checked out the website so I could have contingency purchasing plan (as by this point the girls are ready to hop in the car and go). Granny is on standby to go either way, Grandpa will go if I can't (cause Granny is still suffering from the sinus thing and really doesn't feel up to driving in). The overalls aren't the only thing we need - we're running low on coffee. And that has to be on hand all the time right now. And we need more coffee cups (disposable, for the combiners) and coffee filters. A theme, perhaps?

As I took Dale his lunch, he told me to go back and change into farm clothes...I'm trucking again. So, made myself a lunch, sent the family into Brandon and started in on the oats. There seems to be a lot of these, and while we haven't had an official test yet, they look pretty good.

Things were pretty quiet until it got dark. Then they're still quiet, but I've been on the truck for nine or so hours and my sense of humour starts to get more warped. Perhaps it was because I was starting to drift off between loads. Anyway, I'm parked at the end of a swath, waiting to pick up the load, and just the way the combine was angled he looked just like Frank. I couldn't back up, as my father-in-law had parked his Chevy Silverado behind me. I can't go forward, as I'll run into the swath (and that is undesirable, it makes it harder to pick the grain up off the ground). Fortunately Frank turned...and my heart rate returned to normal.

So, I pick up the load. And take it to the auger, in a darkened field with tractors. It just seemed a little surreal. As I stand there in the oat dust unloading, my slightly tired mind is looking at these things and wondering how to tip them...oh well, can't figure that one without a hill.

Yesterday, I could have tipped the tractors. Felt like I was going to tip the truck. Side hills are a pain at the best of times, but I got to take a fill on the side of a hill - that had to be one of the most uncomfortable loads of grain I have ever tried to deal with. It is tough to drive a truck when you're holding onto the door for dear life, leaning at what seems to be a horrible angle...This, in a truck that resembles Mater in so many ways - the blue covered by rust, the broken door, it is a 1970's series International Harvester but hey, it still has a hood.

The kicker tonight though has been my father-in-law's truck. This little machine has every feature you could ever want...except a headlight dim switch. Whenever he comes at you from across the field, you feel like you see the Ghostlight.

My glamourous life as a trucker

Last week (I think - Days are blending together - I think that is caused by long workdays) my sister asked me why I don't want to travel more. I didn't answer her properly then, but I will now.

Because I travel so much with work.

Hey, it may not be chic travel. It may not involve public transportation of any kind (plane, train, bus...) But my job requires lots and lots of travel. Specifically, driving.

Take today as an example.

Part One - the half ton. (Payload capacity: 1500 lbs.)
Woke up this morning before five a.m. to get into the half ton and drive to Saskatchewan. Took two cups of coffee, three mini packages of froot loops and copious quantities of chewing gum.
Ran out of coffee just before Wolseley. The only place open was "Weird Willies". Now, normally, that wouldn't be a choice locale, but the washroom was clean, the staff was friendly (for seven a.m.) A chocolate milk & a package of Brownies and I'm on my way to Regina.

Why? Because Regina has Tim Horton's, so I can fill my coffee cup and eat breakfast again. I'm sorry to say that my famous Tim's radar was a bit out of whack, as there was actually a new Tim's on the north side of Highway 1 that I missed on the way in. For those of you who don't have Tim's radar, there is a neat trip planner available on the website.

Anyway, got my breakie, and back on the road. Destination? Kronau. Not the one in Germany, but still, it was somewhere new. While in Kronau I picked up 1400 lbs. of grain rings. Then I picked up Highway 48 for a change of scenery, and visited such picturesque places as Montmartre and saw the famous red paperclip town of Kipling.

I pretty much headed straight home from there, making reasonably good time (2:30ish arrival - nine hours driving and loading, 730 kilometres, 18.3 miles to the american gallon.) Called Dale, he asked me to bring the grain rings up to the Morgan farm where he was trucking.

Part II - Princess Rosie (10 speed tandem highway tractor with grain box)
Upon arrival at the Morgan place, I was asked to start trucking. It was explained that if all three men (two grandpas & Dale) put together the grain ring, it would go more quickly. Okay. I knew there was a reason I put the trucking boots on this morning (but couldn't figure it out at the time.) Anyway, tied up my hair, hopped in the truck and proceeded to grind my way to the combine. I'm out of practice. And this particular transmission is supposed to be one that you don't have to use the clutch for. Which isn't a bad thing, since I can't really reach it that well anyway even with big boots and the seat adjusted. After six or seven loads I was finally starting to be able to upshift fairly smoothly, and was almost finding a gear when downshifting.

The problem was that Granny had Char for soccer and Jo was coming home on the bus. And nobody was home...everyone else was in the field. We haven't got a full time secretary at the school, so if you don't call in a change of plans early, the child may or may not get the message. Rather than chance that, I called my neighbour and got her to pull Jo off the bus (and Granny got her after soccer).

Finally it looked like Dale would be able to take over on his truck. But, by this time, the combine was far enough over on the piece that the combine was full before the truck was unloaded. So, I switched to the other truck, Dale drove his (and Grandma brought supper.)

Part Three - Old Blue (Automatic ancient tag-axle IH grain truck)
This quirky machine is relatively easy to drive. Automatic is a bit of a misnomer, as shifting is necessary, but this time there isn't even a clutch pedal to tempt you. And easy is dependent on a) being able to locate the centre of the truck underneath the unload auger of the combine; b) not getting into any wet spots (for fear of getting stuck); c) managing to steer a truck with 10 tonnes of grain on it; d) avoiding the ditches in the field and potholes in the road as this particular truck isn't going to survive too many hard bumps.

Keep in mind that each time the truck goes out to the field, it picks up two loads of grain from the combine. Then the truck goes back across the field, out the approach, down the road, down the lane, into the "yard" and has to back up pretty much exactly into boards set up in front of an auger. Without stalling, running over anything, spilling the grain, backing into anything. And when only one truck is running, that has to be done quickly. Of course, it is much easier to do it when three men (who have all taught you to drive at some point in your career) are watching your every move...

Once you have the truck backed in, you have to start tractor and the auger, open the tailgate, ensure the grain is going into the auger hopper, turn on your PTO on the truck for the hoist, raise the hoist (but not so much that you spill the grain) and get itchy. Barley is itchy. Oats are itchy. It is mostly due to the chaff from the grain, but the little dusty bits are quite uncomfortable. This particular field is yielding very well (the quality is awful, but the yield, exceptional.) So, there are more trips to the auger. And more dust.

Part Four - 17 (Red GM 3500 Diesel 5 speed)
About ten p.m. we were ready to go onto the next piece. Only one grain truck needed for that. But, the combine would need fuel. And the men needed coffee. So, I got to jump into 17, go fill the diesel slip tank and stop by home to pick up the coffee etc. that Granny made. This particular truck is quirky in its gearing - you shift the thing at about 3000 rpm...making for a loud trip. Whipped home, grabbed all of the stuff I was supposed to bring and went back to the field. I got to take 17 home...Dale will bring his half ton when he comes back and the grain trucks will remain up there for tomorrow. Not sure when Dale or the combine operator are planning on sleeping...

However, I'd better get showered and to bed. Have to be up early tomorrow, because today, when I left early, Jo missed the bus for the very first time. So, I know that somehow I am needed to make sure that mornings happen. Even if I hate getting up, I guess someone has to!

Trends…

VFMK is hosting yet another guest blogger entry... enjoy! :)

The seasons are changing… and the end of summer is not always a smooth transition on the farm. This was readily apparent when it began raining and turned cold this past week. Unfortunately, for those who are making a livelihood from the produce of the land, this - quite nicely - is crappy. I would use stronger adjectives but in a public forum (and based on my abhorrence of bad words) it seems to be pointless. I am learning that there are many things I cannot change. The weather, it seems, is one of them.

My sister thinks that she can change the weather. She, I have learned, is highly superstitious. How to avoid the rain:

1. Take the laundry off the line
2. Clean out the eavestroughing (even in the middle of a rain storm)
3. NEVER wash the car
4. Don’t kill spiders
5. Always make sure that there’s nothing to water
6. NEVER water your garden if you want it to rain
7. NEVER say it doesn’t look like rain
8. Pull up all the root vegetables
9. Don’t look at the weather; look at the weather every two seconds
10. Curse the weather network. Sit at your computer obsessively clicking the mouse and telling weather systems to dissipate. Little did I know that my sister (who hasn’t read Harry Potter) knows incantations. She uses them on the computer. They’re not in latin, they’re in Lindaese and I dare not repeat them here lest I unleash some weird weather system somewhere in the midst of Northern Alberta.

Bad weather for most of us means griping. I am not immune to this as I do my share of complaining when I’m stuck four inches in mud due to a downpour on my long weekend camping trip. For farmers, showers mean stress. Lots of stress. The swathing that had been ongoing for over three days nonstop was adjourned completely. The crops are currently in amazing geometric patterns across the field getting wet. This is bad. Very, very bad. Thousands of dollars in loss bad. The words disastrous, tragic and agonizing come to mind. And there’s nothing to do but hover over the weather reports hitting the refresh button a hundred times in 10 minutes.

On that note, many people write laurels on the multi-tasking mom. The multi tasking mom is nothing in comparison to the multi-tasking farm based mom. I have watched my sister be meteorologist, mechanic, operator, book keeper, business manager, co-ordinator as well as domestic engineer (which, as we all know, involves a myriad of talents and abilities… and in her case it means growing a large part of the produce she uses in her meals as well as organizing all of the extra-curricular activities her daughters are involved in). It’s nothing short of impressive. We were stuck in one of many black outs (storm related) and yet she was still in charge of multiple forecast assessments made by looking at obscure colour blotches reminiscent of an impressionist painting.

School in Sentimentality

Last week highlighted the first day of school for my dear niece Charlotte. I was, admittedly, sentimental to see my niece in her first day of school outfit ready to go off and join the ranks of kindergarten. I don’t have to reconcile with this emotive spirit – it’s who I am when it comes to big benchmarks… particularly things like school. There’s no doubt that I was very excited along with my Char about her next adventures… but the fact that she’s already making a transition into school is something to reflect upon. I myself realized that this was the first time since I was Charlotte’s age that I was not returning to school in September. I have decided that I am institutionalized (and nerdy… I love school supplies and the smell of pencils.)

Salsa (because it’s not Wednesday, it’s Tomatay)

We’ve stewed tomatoes. We’ve made Greek salad. We’ve covered the tomatoes a quilt of mismatched blankets to protect them from frost. Yes, we must protect the tomatoes. At all costs... save the tomatoes!!! I believe that we’ve only harvested approximately 300 of them and that – apparently – just isn’t enough. Evidently it takes 30 pounds of tomatoes to make one batch of Linda’s tomato sauce. That’s like a John and a half (though that sounds so wrong). But that many tomatoes is just that wrong. After watching veggie tales I feel somewhat sickened to be part of the tomato carnage. I do not want to see another fruit after this experience. Ever. And forget apples. But that’s another post.

Saunahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

I have thoroughly enjoyed my sauna experience here on the farm. As I was not here for construction, I cannot give the details about that. I can, however, provide a photo as well as a description – Sauna = contentment.

This could be a post that would involve you being the recipient of a *prize* for decoding the trend in this entry. I, being the letterphyle that I am, can’t help but make this an alliteration based blog post. I just can’t help myself.

retail therapy

I generally don't subscribe to the idea of retail therapy. I have trouble believing that spending money will help me feel better.

But today, I'm a convert. Going to Brandon to spend a little money that I don't have to fill a few holes.

Yesterday was a totally crappy day. I was trying to organize a fall session for skating and as such, phoned the coach to let her know where things were at. She was having a horrible day - one of the thirteen year old skaters that she coached (and had been coming to this fall session we're trying to run) had passed away unexpectedly at home the previous night.

Whoa. I phoned a few of the ladies from around here who would have had girls who skated with this little girl but then, I couldn't do much more. My day had been planned to phone all of the skaters to line them up for the fall session - and since everyone will know this girl, all attendance is up in the air. So keeping busy with that was out of the question.

And keeping busy with harvest is out of the question - it keeps raining. The stress is kind of getting to me. So then I thought I would cook. And my waffle iron broke down. And my waffle batter stuck to the frying pan because it is not good pancake batter. That was when I got my sister to take over in the kitchen and I gave up.

I'm also on a diet these days - have to give some "fun" samples for the lab, so I'm preparing for that. I've had some pain in my side for a while, but it is getting worse, so I'm trying to minimize that with a softer (less fibre filled) diet - that is tough when Mini Wheats and dried apples are my favourite snacks.

I can't really start any projects - we live in limbo waiting for the weather to change and I don't want to start into anything that I can't drop at a moments notice.

So perhaps I'll go buy myself an iPod, and get out and exercise. Or maybe a new waffle iron will help in my quest to feed the world.

But no matter what, I sure hope to get harvesting soon. Otherwise, it is bound to cost a good chunk of change!

joyful, joyful! School is in!

I sent my little girl off to kindergarten today. She was so excited that she didn't want to smile for the bus picture - she just wanted to get on. And get going!

I have watched my friends post their status updates bemoaning the fact that their babies were starting school. I don't get that sentiment. Charli was so ready to go to school that her four year old year was brutal. I frequently wished that I had the option of putting her in school last year as I would if I lived in Ontario or Alberta.

And really, she's not a baby. Perhaps it is the reality check of having my two "spirited" little nephews here, but I don't really miss that stage. I am so glad she is a happy little girl ready to start into her own life. It doesn't mean that we can't cuddle on her days off. It doesn't mean that we won't have happy times - perhaps having the freedom to get a few things done on the days she is in school will help make the days she is home more fun.

This year is going to be interesting socially for both girls. Joelle is going from a class of five girls, of which she is definitely one of the alpha females to a class that has twelve girls. And ten of them are older than she is. The jump between seven and eight is a big one, so I am hoping that she can still maintain some of her innocence and happy nature in this new environment. I don't worry at all academically - the mixed 3/2 class will be a real bonus for Jo in that way, but I don't know if I'm actually ready to deal with boys/makeup/cliques/attitude royale. As long as she is having fun, I'm sure it will be fine.

Maybe I need to be more sentimental about the milestone of starting school. I don't really think so, however - I have had lots of time to adjust to the fact that my girls are growing up. And while the first day of Kindergarten is a milestone, next year with full time school will actually be more of a life change. For tomorrow, when I wake up and put Joelle on the bus, there will still be little Charlotte at home, ready for me to save her from her boredom.

Anyway, I'm off to enjoy the rest of my day. I have had a lovely shower this morning (bathroom door open, no interruptions), I plan to have some pizza for lunch, and maybe a guilt-free cookie for dessert. Well, I'd better hop to it! Soon enough they will be home with dishes for me to wash, paperwork for me to fill out and stories of their first day of school!

How do you like them apples?

More from VFMK's guest blogger...

“For I have known them all already, known them all:— Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;”
T.S. Elliott - The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

As time has had abstract meaning out here on the farm, I have been measuring out my days in coffee spoons… and in produce. The days should no longer be named “Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday…” but rather “Apples, Carrots, Potatoes…”. My fingers feel as though they have been literally worked to the bone. Forget Chinese torture of putting wooden splinters under your fingernails; take a morning pulling carrots, a noonday of washing said carrots and an afternoon of chopping the squeaky clean carrots and you’ll know what I mean. It is dirty, monotonous (even painful on the hands) but therapeutic work.

If you have not visited the garden a few steps down from the view from this kitchen, you may not know what I speak of. The dimensions of the produce patch can be astounding. I do not exaggerate when I say that the amount of vegetables in this garden could and would feed several families for several weeks. The garden (apparently) has been held back this year. The carrot row, for example, is down to just one row instead of two (which is due only to the fact that the family could not get through everything over one winter). Really? How many carrots could you possibly eat with this smaller harvest? An entire medium sized fridge is full of carrots. Nothing but carrots. Bagged carrots, quartered carrots, sliced carrots, sticked carrots. Now we can make carrot muffins, carrot soup, cooked carrots (bleck) but, thank goodness, not carrot butter.

This morning I went out and found more apples fresh off the ‘good tree’. It’s almost like a Biblical parallel to Genesis for the kids here. Just ask Joelle… they are ‘forbidden’ to pick apples off the ‘good tree’. They are, however, allowed to self-feed off the crab apple tree. There is something nostalgic of watching my son climb the apple tree out back with his cousins – it makes me ecstatic to see him enjoying an integral part of childhood while consuming copious amounts of fruit.


The parallel could be extended to the rest of the farm… there is something Eden-like here in the natural beauty and peacefulness of the land and garden. Except when it comes to canning season… then I see how we are toiling on this earth. The processing of said apples is fascinating. I think, however, that I will no longer be able to face an apple after this experience.

Take apple butter as an example. One morning I took the infant out in a hip sling and picked apples for two hours. We picked a foot wide path around the tree at my arm height. Five bags and one box of crab apples later, we arrived in the house triumphant. Or so I thought. Little did I know my work had just begun. First, I had to slice off sections for the dehydrator (to make dried apples for snacks). Then I had to take the cores and quarter them for cooking. Then I had to go back and take off the stems. No stems. Right. While I took the batch of apples from the ‘good tree’ to slice, my sister started on the apple butter production.

I am not oversimplifying to say that this is a process that takes several days. Why is it not called jarring? The whole experience is, you know. First there’s this huge pot that is used to sterilize the jars (small beasts could be boiled in it… I start thinking Macbeth double, double toil and trouble; burner on high and canner bubble when I see it). Then there’s a whole process of boiling the apples to bits (literally… you put them in cores, seeds, peels and all). After boiling and stirring continually, the pulpy mess has to be pressed. Then it has to be bagged and dripped. The dripping process is stressful because NO ONE can touch the bag contraption that goes on the counter. It’s scary. And she’s right, she does need a new kitchen. I think the new shop should be hers. All hers. After bagging, the next step is measuring, spicing, cooking, and finally the pulp is ladled into sterilized jars. At the end of the day you still have to label the jars and (the nightmare of it all) wash the dishes.

So, taking account… the amount of labour and the end result… hours and hours of kitchen slave hours to create one tiny, tiny jar of apple butter. It IS delicious. It IS worth it. But I personally prefer not being here to participate in the process. So then I sigh. Apple butter is DONE! Hooray! Oh, just wait. We now have to make… apple jelly, apple crisp, apple pie, and later… apple fruit leather.

An apple a day is a good thing. Hundreds of apples in one day is… ridiculous but life on the farm nonetheless.