Come again...in October. Late, late, october. Like Halloween.
What a lovely day. It is raining, with a wind (which is bad, as it will push our crops flat to the ground and make it difficult to swath.) It is my anniversary. I had planned pork tenderloin on the grill, with garden veggies. Now I'll need hipwaders. Or a menu change.
The thunderstorm going on right now is not scary, but is really, really loud. Our business is so related to the weather that we're very conscious of every change. However this summer has not been a summer. Spring. It has been spring for the last three months.
The girls and I picked beans last night - first picking of those, mostly for mixed vegetables. We picked the last picking of peas. I still need to get carrots, but that isn't going to happen today now, which is a little frustrating. I'll just put down little packages and wait until I can get to the garden to find the carrots, process them and throw them in on top.
So, we'll spend our anniversary cleaning the house (needs done, this is the last chance before harvest). And hopefully, sometime, the sun will come out.
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Friday, August 1, 2008
gardening, the sequel
My garden is legendary amongst my own side of the family, merely average (if not below average) for Dale's side. Today's job is to actually do something with my gardens...I need to pick peas (and maybe the plants, if they annoy me too much), pick beans, pick raspberries, check in on the cauliflower and weed all of the flower beds.
I'm not sure how the beds got to this state, although the slow year (and not having a single day over 30 degrees celsius) has some part of the blame.
Or, perhaps, like the columnist I enjoy so much in the Globe and Mail, I have Seasonal Gardening Disorder. http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20080726.wleah26/BNStory/lifeStyle/home
Nonetheless, at this point, I'm ready to start tearing up the gardens and putting in grass. Actually, I really might. They can do their pitiful little thing this year, but I think we are looking at mowing more, weeding less starting next year. I know I'll miss the colour, but perhaps the guilt factor will go down if I go back to a few more manageable gardens here.
And besides, I need to move some peonies to the lake - need to have something to look after there.
I'm not sure how the beds got to this state, although the slow year (and not having a single day over 30 degrees celsius) has some part of the blame.
Or, perhaps, like the columnist I enjoy so much in the Globe and Mail, I have Seasonal Gardening Disorder. http://www.theglobeandmail.com/servlet/story/RTGAM.20080726.wleah26/BNStory/lifeStyle/home
Nonetheless, at this point, I'm ready to start tearing up the gardens and putting in grass. Actually, I really might. They can do their pitiful little thing this year, but I think we are looking at mowing more, weeding less starting next year. I know I'll miss the colour, but perhaps the guilt factor will go down if I go back to a few more manageable gardens here.
And besides, I need to move some peonies to the lake - need to have something to look after there.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
bed troubles
We thought that having a second house might solve our problems of excess furniture/stuff. To some extent, it has. We *plan* to put in bookshelves to accommodate the multitudes of boxes of books downstairs that have yet to find a home. Our guest room has suffered, as we had to take the double bed out to the cabin to replace the one that was there. It wasn't fit for anyone, making me wonder how the former owners slept there.
Jo complained about her lake bed to the point that we took the futon mattress and put it on the boxspring. That solved her problem, although making the bed now takes on new challenges. Char hasn't noticed any problems, but I'm sure that is temporary - once she gets a bit bigger, she'll be tall enough to notice the springs digging into her back. Hopefully we'll be able to finish the loft space before that happens, then we'll get them new mattresses on the floor.
I would love to get Jo a loft bed for at home. Her little room is suffering from too many books/a desk that doesn't work for her/a teeny closet/a bed that is way too easy to stuff things under/a seven year old girl. Besides, I always wanted a loft bed, but with my room, it was never practical. Hers has straight walls! But, again, we deal with the "you have to be able to look after what you have before you get new things" problem. I haven't managed to get through this little problem in my kitchen, so I really can't talk.
Jo's bed problems came to a head the other day. We were going through school clothes (yes, went through every stinking piece of clothing those children owned, it took ALL day) and I asked her to clean out under her bed. Again. Dale had been in a few weeks ago and removed all the books from her room (to great protest, including lots of tears) and we thought that might have solved some of the clutter problem. Uh, no.
Stop laughing, parental units. I know I deserve this. It doesn't make it any easier.
Jo had bugs under her bed. I went in to try to find a few more socks, and discovered that the "plant matter" she had brought in for mother's day (why? I don't know. I'm not seven) had attracted bugs.
I like bugs. I just don't want them in my house. So, I took my handydandy screwdriver out and took Jo's bed apart. I vacuumed up the bugs, removed the pieces of the bed, and put Jo's mattress on the floor.
Dale walked in an hour or so later and simply enquired where we were going to put the bed. Jo just wanted to know how she was going to read in bed (lamp was attached to the headboard). Punishment...bombed. But, there is nothing under Jo's bed. And the stuff beside it looks neater.
However, we still have to find a home for the bed, and we still have to get that kid a room that works. So, I think we're going to stack the beds into the bunkbed formation and perhaps, when we have time, we'll tear up the carpet. In the meantime, she still won't have things under her bed, she'll have Char.
Which will bring a whole new adventure.
Jo complained about her lake bed to the point that we took the futon mattress and put it on the boxspring. That solved her problem, although making the bed now takes on new challenges. Char hasn't noticed any problems, but I'm sure that is temporary - once she gets a bit bigger, she'll be tall enough to notice the springs digging into her back. Hopefully we'll be able to finish the loft space before that happens, then we'll get them new mattresses on the floor.
I would love to get Jo a loft bed for at home. Her little room is suffering from too many books/a desk that doesn't work for her/a teeny closet/a bed that is way too easy to stuff things under/a seven year old girl. Besides, I always wanted a loft bed, but with my room, it was never practical. Hers has straight walls! But, again, we deal with the "you have to be able to look after what you have before you get new things" problem. I haven't managed to get through this little problem in my kitchen, so I really can't talk.
Jo's bed problems came to a head the other day. We were going through school clothes (yes, went through every stinking piece of clothing those children owned, it took ALL day) and I asked her to clean out under her bed. Again. Dale had been in a few weeks ago and removed all the books from her room (to great protest, including lots of tears) and we thought that might have solved some of the clutter problem. Uh, no.
Stop laughing, parental units. I know I deserve this. It doesn't make it any easier.
Jo had bugs under her bed. I went in to try to find a few more socks, and discovered that the "plant matter" she had brought in for mother's day (why? I don't know. I'm not seven) had attracted bugs.
I like bugs. I just don't want them in my house. So, I took my handydandy screwdriver out and took Jo's bed apart. I vacuumed up the bugs, removed the pieces of the bed, and put Jo's mattress on the floor.
Dale walked in an hour or so later and simply enquired where we were going to put the bed. Jo just wanted to know how she was going to read in bed (lamp was attached to the headboard). Punishment...bombed. But, there is nothing under Jo's bed. And the stuff beside it looks neater.
However, we still have to find a home for the bed, and we still have to get that kid a room that works. So, I think we're going to stack the beds into the bunkbed formation and perhaps, when we have time, we'll tear up the carpet. In the meantime, she still won't have things under her bed, she'll have Char.
Which will bring a whole new adventure.
Monday, July 28, 2008
Give me pie or give me...
Well, I'm back from the lake. For a day. Or a week - never quite sure.
I have been home periodically to pick peas. Holy hannah, we have peas. Fortunately, Dale's family is of the opinion that sitting around at the lake is best done with a bowl of peas on one's lap, podding. I am quite grateful to my mess of podding family members - without them, I would have been up until 2 a.m. podding the blasted peas. They only took about 3 hours to pick - I had the recycling bin and the biggest cooler I own full of peas in pods. That translates into 2 large dishbins full of podded peas, or an afternoon of blanching 23 3 cup bags and a tray (I ran out of baggies.)
Dale's family also has other strange lake habits. For instance, saskatoon picking.
First, let me be clear. Saskatoons may look a bit like a blueberry, but they are not the same. NOT the same. They grow on tallish bushes deep in the mosquito infested bush (well, that part is like blueberries). I have been spoiled, however. They lack the tang of a good blueberry, and are somewhat more...pulpy.
Yet, the very first thing my husband's family did when looking around our new place was to point out all of the saskatoon bushes. And ask when I would be picking those. So, being eager to please (and hey, they're free fruit!), I took my little girls out into the bush and we picked a small bunch of saskatoons. They shared with their grandparents, bringing tiny helpings down in the little wee vintage tupperware containers I acquired with the cabin.
Anyway, upon returning to the cabin, the girls were driving their mom a bit up the wall, so I suggested that they pick more saskatoons (hey, that's thinking, huh?) They didn't move and continued annoying me. So I told them that if they picked a whole ice cream pail full, I would make them a saskatoon pie.
The girls scampered out the door so fast I think the hinges nearly fell off, and the next thing I see is Dale whipping off his belt. But he didn't have the same furious look that my dad had when he took off his belt...because he had only removed the belt to attach his berry bucket.
I forgot that the magic word in my house is not "please" or "thank you" or "abracadabra". Just say the word "pie" and Dale will be out the door into the garden, or the bush, or wherever the fillings are to be found.
And yes, the three of them filled the ice cream bucket (well, mostly Dale did). So, between loads of laundry tomorrow morning, I'll pick through the berries and make the pastry. And maybe, after all of that, I'll wash the floor. The darn things stain almost as badly as a blueberry.
I have been home periodically to pick peas. Holy hannah, we have peas. Fortunately, Dale's family is of the opinion that sitting around at the lake is best done with a bowl of peas on one's lap, podding. I am quite grateful to my mess of podding family members - without them, I would have been up until 2 a.m. podding the blasted peas. They only took about 3 hours to pick - I had the recycling bin and the biggest cooler I own full of peas in pods. That translates into 2 large dishbins full of podded peas, or an afternoon of blanching 23 3 cup bags and a tray (I ran out of baggies.)
Dale's family also has other strange lake habits. For instance, saskatoon picking.
First, let me be clear. Saskatoons may look a bit like a blueberry, but they are not the same. NOT the same. They grow on tallish bushes deep in the mosquito infested bush (well, that part is like blueberries). I have been spoiled, however. They lack the tang of a good blueberry, and are somewhat more...pulpy.
Yet, the very first thing my husband's family did when looking around our new place was to point out all of the saskatoon bushes. And ask when I would be picking those. So, being eager to please (and hey, they're free fruit!), I took my little girls out into the bush and we picked a small bunch of saskatoons. They shared with their grandparents, bringing tiny helpings down in the little wee vintage tupperware containers I acquired with the cabin.
Anyway, upon returning to the cabin, the girls were driving their mom a bit up the wall, so I suggested that they pick more saskatoons (hey, that's thinking, huh?) They didn't move and continued annoying me. So I told them that if they picked a whole ice cream pail full, I would make them a saskatoon pie.
The girls scampered out the door so fast I think the hinges nearly fell off, and the next thing I see is Dale whipping off his belt. But he didn't have the same furious look that my dad had when he took off his belt...because he had only removed the belt to attach his berry bucket.
I forgot that the magic word in my house is not "please" or "thank you" or "abracadabra". Just say the word "pie" and Dale will be out the door into the garden, or the bush, or wherever the fillings are to be found.
And yes, the three of them filled the ice cream bucket (well, mostly Dale did). So, between loads of laundry tomorrow morning, I'll pick through the berries and make the pastry. And maybe, after all of that, I'll wash the floor. The darn things stain almost as badly as a blueberry.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
A new kitchen
But not how I thought it would be.
Sorry I haven't blogged in a while. Been busy. As always. After the whirlwind (66 hour) trip to Thunder Bay I have been able to enjoy my nephews, sister and brother-in-law's company. Not that I get to see too much of anyone - we're still spraying, I'm still hauling water.
And, we're in swimming lessons again.
Yes, I know we were done swimming lessons. Parental obligation was fulfilled.
But, last Wednesday (between six other messages that he missed), Dale took a call from an older gentleman. He had heard we were looking at property on the lake. So, we were invited over for coffee on Thursday morning to discuss the possibility of us buying their cabin on the west side.
Thursday morning arrived rainy, so we dropped the kids with the ready made sitters (thanks, houseguests!) and went to the lake. I got the tour of the interior from the wife and then got to sit while she did a jigsaw puzzle. That's almost like watching someone play solitaire - I wanted to grab the pieces and fit them in. But I restrained myself. I got to see the kitchen, the living room and the small bedroom. The master bedroom was theirs, so I didn't get to see that...
Dale went around the exterior with the gentleman to look at all the structural things and all of the renovations he did 20 years ago that he was still so proud of. Needless to say, time hasn't been kind. The whole east wall of the cabin needs replaced. It currently has a guillotine window waiting to come down on someone's neck, so no one goes around the permanent scaffolding. The "screen room" is so full of holes and rot that it will need to be replaced.
Anyway, we made an offer and drove home. It was a lot less than they were asking, so I figured we were out of luck. But, I have learned to shut up (occasionally) and sure enough, the phone rang about an hour after we got home. The lady of the house had really wanted to sell, so I guess she won the argument.
We signed papers Thursday night (thanks again, houseguests!), I called the R.M. office on Friday to try to get the kids into the annual two week session of swimming lessons on the lake (they started Monday), we officially take possession today. But we've been in for a few days.
They left most everything, and it is kind of strange - it will take a bit of time to make it "ours". And there is a lot of work to do. But, perhaps, I will get some use out of my Aunt's fabric. And, I have a new kitchen with appliances circa 1962.
By the way, it is the A-frame. You can come visit the next time you're out.
Sorry I haven't blogged in a while. Been busy. As always. After the whirlwind (66 hour) trip to Thunder Bay I have been able to enjoy my nephews, sister and brother-in-law's company. Not that I get to see too much of anyone - we're still spraying, I'm still hauling water.
And, we're in swimming lessons again.
Yes, I know we were done swimming lessons. Parental obligation was fulfilled.
But, last Wednesday (between six other messages that he missed), Dale took a call from an older gentleman. He had heard we were looking at property on the lake. So, we were invited over for coffee on Thursday morning to discuss the possibility of us buying their cabin on the west side.
Thursday morning arrived rainy, so we dropped the kids with the ready made sitters (thanks, houseguests!) and went to the lake. I got the tour of the interior from the wife and then got to sit while she did a jigsaw puzzle. That's almost like watching someone play solitaire - I wanted to grab the pieces and fit them in. But I restrained myself. I got to see the kitchen, the living room and the small bedroom. The master bedroom was theirs, so I didn't get to see that...
Dale went around the exterior with the gentleman to look at all the structural things and all of the renovations he did 20 years ago that he was still so proud of. Needless to say, time hasn't been kind. The whole east wall of the cabin needs replaced. It currently has a guillotine window waiting to come down on someone's neck, so no one goes around the permanent scaffolding. The "screen room" is so full of holes and rot that it will need to be replaced.
Anyway, we made an offer and drove home. It was a lot less than they were asking, so I figured we were out of luck. But, I have learned to shut up (occasionally) and sure enough, the phone rang about an hour after we got home. The lady of the house had really wanted to sell, so I guess she won the argument.
We signed papers Thursday night (thanks again, houseguests!), I called the R.M. office on Friday to try to get the kids into the annual two week session of swimming lessons on the lake (they started Monday), we officially take possession today. But we've been in for a few days.
They left most everything, and it is kind of strange - it will take a bit of time to make it "ours". And there is a lot of work to do. But, perhaps, I will get some use out of my Aunt's fabric. And, I have a new kitchen with appliances circa 1962.
By the way, it is the A-frame. You can come visit the next time you're out.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
hauling water
As time passes I'm noticing that things that weren't *my job* are now becoming *my job*.
Case in point - hauling water. Formerly not my job. Usually relegated to a "grandpa" job - one that requires a good amount of experience but minimal heavy lifting.
But lately, while I have houseguests (that I am enjoying), my garden is coming in and I'm exhausted from far too much driving in far too little time, hauling water has been my job.
First, it was just hauling it a bit. Okay. It is essentially just a standard truck, so I could do that. Then, a little longer, but all forwards. Fine. Now I have progressed to turning around. My girlfriend informs me that she won't learn to do that, but she has the benefit/burden of a hired man. I, on the other hand, have learned how to back up a gooseneck trailer with a truck with a short wheelbase. Still don't like to do it with witnesses, but that's typical for me.
I always wonder what I'm going to learn next. Well, better scoot - I'll have to go run the truck again soon!
Case in point - hauling water. Formerly not my job. Usually relegated to a "grandpa" job - one that requires a good amount of experience but minimal heavy lifting.
But lately, while I have houseguests (that I am enjoying), my garden is coming in and I'm exhausted from far too much driving in far too little time, hauling water has been my job.
First, it was just hauling it a bit. Okay. It is essentially just a standard truck, so I could do that. Then, a little longer, but all forwards. Fine. Now I have progressed to turning around. My girlfriend informs me that she won't learn to do that, but she has the benefit/burden of a hired man. I, on the other hand, have learned how to back up a gooseneck trailer with a truck with a short wheelbase. Still don't like to do it with witnesses, but that's typical for me.
I always wonder what I'm going to learn next. Well, better scoot - I'll have to go run the truck again soon!
Friday, July 4, 2008
the power of ice cream
Lately we have been hearing from the eldest about how much she is wishing for a magic wand. It is kind of cute - who in their right mind wouldn't like a magic wand that could clean up any mess? But, unfortunately, work is the only magic wand around here. And there is lots to do.
Case in point was yesterday: I was busy washing floor, cooking dinner, doing laundry, mowing lawn and otherwise doing domestics that needed done. So, after cleaning their rooms (can't feel sorry for that one, they really needed to), the girls finished up the dishwasher, Jo vacuumed the floor while Char ran errands, then we ran outside to weed the garden before the guests arrived.
This work comes at a price, however. I have to pay one ice cream per child for a day's work. If it is really hard work, sometimes I have to chip in a loonie. That way, they get to buy more ice cream. Or, if we're running through town, I end up getting a soft serve cone each from the Drive-Inn. Side note - people out here call that the "creamee", which is just disturbing and wrong to me. I mean, really, the "creamee?" Yuck. Anyway, the ice cream payment is on top of their allowance, but I'm still astonished at how effective it is.
Is this bribery? No. It is payment for tasks completed. And hey, I work for little more than an ice cream some days, so it seems fair. We're a little picky about our compensation - a creamsicle will work, but a popsicle won't. I'm sure I'm contributing to the ice cream addictions of my children, again, that is a small price to pay for very necessary work (and the work ethic that they are gaining). Or at least that is how I rationalize it.
We didn't finish up what needed done last night, so I'll probably have to shell out again. But maybe I'll get my car washed in the deal...yeah, that would be worth it!
Case in point was yesterday: I was busy washing floor, cooking dinner, doing laundry, mowing lawn and otherwise doing domestics that needed done. So, after cleaning their rooms (can't feel sorry for that one, they really needed to), the girls finished up the dishwasher, Jo vacuumed the floor while Char ran errands, then we ran outside to weed the garden before the guests arrived.
This work comes at a price, however. I have to pay one ice cream per child for a day's work. If it is really hard work, sometimes I have to chip in a loonie. That way, they get to buy more ice cream. Or, if we're running through town, I end up getting a soft serve cone each from the Drive-Inn. Side note - people out here call that the "creamee", which is just disturbing and wrong to me. I mean, really, the "creamee?" Yuck. Anyway, the ice cream payment is on top of their allowance, but I'm still astonished at how effective it is.
Is this bribery? No. It is payment for tasks completed. And hey, I work for little more than an ice cream some days, so it seems fair. We're a little picky about our compensation - a creamsicle will work, but a popsicle won't. I'm sure I'm contributing to the ice cream addictions of my children, again, that is a small price to pay for very necessary work (and the work ethic that they are gaining). Or at least that is how I rationalize it.
We didn't finish up what needed done last night, so I'll probably have to shell out again. But maybe I'll get my car washed in the deal...yeah, that would be worth it!
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