Don't Fret - Nothing's Changed

The sun peaked in through the bedroom window, but it wasn't stillness that flooded my senses. I woke up with a start listening to donk, donk, donk on our roof. It's an old roof with moss growing overtop the cedar shakes and those darned warblers were up on top of it doing heaven knows what. Dancing a tiny claw-footed jig? Smashing bird-like tennis balls into the roof? Taunting me and stressing me out, that's what.

My girlies are plumb worn out and I feel like those lovely little yellow birds right over their peacefully sleeping heads were soon going to pull out megaphones and shout, "Hey Girls! Get up and out of bed! Who needs any sleep?"

Naturally I raced into the yard in my horrible, dated nightgown, waving my arms and whisper yelling at the birds on top of the roof. I stopped dead in my tracks and looked back towards the neighbour's house and realize, "this is the thing people get committed for. They are going to call my husband and have me certified looney tune."

Luckily, the birds flew away and I snickered to myself while I poured my coffee, I knew that it pays to just be crazy. You can do what you want and folks don't bother you so much.

Allow me to highlight some of weirdest moments, in no particular order, from the past week.

-Enlist thunderstorm warnings and tornado watches - immediately grab camera, leave the children alone in the house and head outside. Perfectly normal.

-Write List B, that includes reference to List A, to pack for trip to Saskabush. A body can never have too many lists (or pack enough Lysol wipes.)

-Realize it got bad when those Lysol wipes were packed lovingly beside a can of WD-40 in my big ol' satchel. A person can't be too prepared. I cover all the lists and am always prepared. A girl scout, really.

-Call up every possible disaster known to mankind to put the fear of Germs & The City into my kids, because folks, we are staying in a mo-tel (please imagine most hillbilly accent possible on Canadian prairie kids.)  After said list is cited off, follow with a cheerful hearted, "but children! You can do anything and go anywhere you set your minds to!"

-Write list of weird moments to share with the world.  Is this why blogging is awkward?

Wishing you the happiest of days today.

"I've always been crazy, but it's kept me from going insane."
-WJ

Green Grass & Full Hearts

Every time I climb the old wooden hill, I pause and take a peek out of the upstairs window - the country's green right now. 

My kids see the ocean waves in the deep, bending hay when the prairie wind let's 'er blow. 

I hear their tiny mouths talk about the grass being belly deep on the eastern slopes of the Rockies and wonder will their kids know those same cow trails?

When they chase each other with foxtail, I remember doing the same with my sister.

Walking past the bromegrass, they naturally reach for the kernels and I can feel them in my hand now. 

The crunch of the dried out prairie wool, the long grasses mowed down to make a yard, is as common to the kids as it was to me growing up.

I see lawns in the big cities, sod laid uniformly, soft and sprinkler green, but I'll tell you - the grass seems mighty green on this side of the fence. 

I hope that the smell of native pasture fills up more than just their noses. 





SaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSaveSave
SaveSave

Our Prairie

I came into the world on the icy winter wind. A prairie blizzard - one you can't know unless you have lived here.

I was prairie raised and think some of my strength isn't me.

It comes from those prairie roots that are all knotted up with my own tangled faith. A faith that is bolstered by the streaks of colour across the big sky on the bleakest winter days.

Strength comes from the special bond that ties families who live on these plains - our lives ebb and flow together to create a larger family.

That my own mother and father who have this soil on their hands, the chinook wind howling through their hair and love of the land in their heart raised me. I will raise my own here and they will know that this is our prairie.

Harsh climates grow deep roots.

The Prettiest Little Tree

While some people continue their Christmas festivities on Boxing Day, possibly in jammies relishing in the fact the family marathon is over, or braving the city streets to look for good deals - I like to vacuum behind the couch.

Every year I pull that beast out and give it a good vacuum, while cleaning up the big ol' mess that Christmas seemed to spew all over the house. Unfortunately, this year the biggest mess couldn't really be vacuumed, it was more in the air.

I do feel that I keep my expectations pretty low in the events department. We really try and not go overboard on all the "hoopla" that is Christmas.While I know some love the traditions beforehand - the special cookies, an outing to shop for siblings in town, or heading to the bush to find a tree - I go out of my way to not have any of that set on the calendar. It has made things so much simpler. I don't feel myself losing my ever loving mind if someone got sick cookie weekend, or I'm just plain too tired to have a hot chocolate party. Anything exciting we end up doing is just a bonus.

This year we happened to be out in the bush, and since my decorating for the season is a bare minimum, it was on a whim I told the girls they could find a wee tree to put in their room. With the silence that the snow covered forestry can only offer, we trekked out not far from the cabin and chopped down a tree the size of my five year old. It all seemed rather magical and I knew it would be fun for the girls to make their own paper chains and any other doo-dads they wanted to put on the tree.

The magic ended when their daddy hauled the tree upstairs and plopped it in the old galvanized bucket full of rocks.

"What is that smell?"

"Did something pee on that tree? Was it a bear? Did a bear pee on that tree?"

"Don't use potty talk!"

"Why does our room stink? The whole upstairs reeks! I didn't know Christmas trees stink. Do you think the one at Auntie's stink?"

Unfortunately that tiny bit of green had travelled home in the trailer that had hauled calves two days prior. It laid in there over night and soaked up enough barnyard smell to be able to make you question those candles that say 'evergreen' scent on them. Is this what an evergreen smells like?

Note to self: Always clean out the trailer before hauling a little piece of Christmas cheer home in it. Tucking in the girls at night will become mighty trying if you don't.

Midweek Reads

This man's writing is as smooth as a good cup of coffee.

Great ideas on what to drop in that big box in the grocery store.

Lovin' this veggie fixed like this.

I'd like to see these tiles in real life.

Sewing these for some little rotters.

Think this is cute as a button.

Still marvel at the way this post continues to stir the pot.

Now, it's your turn, friends. What gems have you found lately?

Keep On The Sunny Side

Keep on the sunny side,
Always on the sunny side

Keep on the sunny side of life,

It will help us ev-'ry day,

it will brighten all the way,

If we keep on the sunny side of life.

 

A.P. Carter

 

And It Snowed

Four months and six days after the last time - it snowed.

 

But, who's counting? Right?

 

 

 

 

 

While the girls have spent a lot of time outside mucking around, Hoss sits inside and does this:

 

This boy can eat. Period. 

 

 

"Who you makin' fun of?"

 

Big Boy has life figured out and can pretty much run this show from his high chair. We all just work for him, anyway.

 

 

 

Notice the grey hue in all these photos? It's a color we know too well.

 

After three days of snow, wet, and muck my girls have been singing Christmas carols at the top of their lungs and I quietly weep into my coffee.

 

Truly though, Alberta is a fine place to live and our summer is quite lovely. It generally falls mid week - between a Monday and a Thursday.We love those three gentle days. 

 

She ain't for the faint of heart.