June, Junie, Junie Moon, Moon: I answer to them all

Peel myself away

2011-12-23T09:27:00.000-08:00

Location: The "craft" table... aka the dining room table; Crisp, cold, clear, sunshine day; -9ºC.

Daily Goal: Get through "Head Elf's" to do list today!

Trials & Tribulations: Not much is going to get accomplished if I can't peel myself away from the craft table today :)

Successes: Wrapping - done; Ham Roll - done; Cabbage Rolls - done; Baking - done.

Failures: Soup - not done; Icing for the Orange Cake - not done; For that Christmas Day turkey to even hint that it has begun to thaw after 2 whole days in the fridge; for my toilets to clean themselves.

Knowing when to call it quits

2011-12-11T20:24:00.000-08:00

With full intentions to wake up and head home Sunday morning - I got all caught up in a craft session with Becky creating bling for wine bottles.

Location: Kelowna.

Daily Goal: After traveling the unlit stretch of S-curves between Kamloops and Vernon last night in the dark, head home today during the daylight hours.

Trials & Tribulations: Knowing when to call it quits is not my forte. Who can resist a crafting session? Of course, when Becky and I set out, we had no idea teaching ourselves the art of blinging up a wine bottle would take HOURS. This is not half as easy as it looks.

Successes: What began as a box of beads has now become a one-of-a-kind Thank You gift for Brianne - who generously shared her Lamb Chop for my Secret Santa scheme.

Failures:

• To take the time to make one for myself.

• To make it home in the daylight. Perhaps I should have listed this under successes? Traversing that stretch of road twice in 24 hours, in the dark :)

The saga continues. . .

2011-12-11T20:00:00.000-08:00

Clue #5: Becky made Lamb Chop's dream of a white Christmas come true.

Location: Kelowna.

Daily Goal: Meet up with Becky to unveil her Secret Santa - and enjoy the show!

Trials & Tribulations: After some exceptional postings, the internet fell silent for TWO DAYS, with no communications between Becky and Secret Santa. Up till now, she had been corresponding regularly with appeals for employing her minions. Santa employs minions, why shouldn't she? This was coupled with sporadic requests to buy more time.

Secret Santa was relentless and responded with,

"Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock, time's a wasting!"

Had she forgotten there was a December 10th deadline? By this point in the game, each of us had expended a lot of time and energy - it was unthinkable to forfeit all this fun. What was I to do if she didn't complete all seven challenges on time?

Sure enough, she sent an email explaining she was feeling a little under the weather.

"Hop to it!" came Snotty Santa's reply on December 8th. "Santa has to stick to a schedule, why shouldn't you?"

Poor girl. Nauseous Nelly was now faced with her original scheduled video challenge, Clue #6: Lamb Chop must croon to "Santa Baby".

Everything came down to the wire - I had arranged a block of time for Brianne to meet with her and swap the tickets as ransom for the safe return of the puppet.

But Becky still had her video challenge to complete, before being directed to locate Clue 7: buried deep inside the December 9th issue of the Kelowna Capital News Classified section (which she flows as part of her job)!

I had no choice but to whip off Clue 7 prior to Clue 6 completion. Santa added a post script:

"By the way. . . you've slipped over to the naughty list. . . lucky for you, you've earned a 2nd, EXTRA bonus prize. Would you like to trade it in, and erase the "Santa Baby" challenge?You'll be back to the top of the Nice list!"

Well, if that girl didn't rally! She used all her resources - including her sister who posted this message on Facebook:

Dear Becky's Secret Santa: This letter is to inform you that although she may have been a little behind as of late on one of her challenges, she has been extra super good today! She helped create a Christmas gift for all the first year nursing students at TRU! So really Santa, she has a kind heart, and you should definitely consider getting her back on your nice list! THANKS SANTA! ~

Successes: Becky delivered! That evening, after swapping Lamb Chop and opening her magical jewelry box present, Becky not only rose to the challenge, she responded in style. Her talents amaze me - I fell in love with the shower cap and hair brush microphone!

She completed every "Mission Impossible" - despite all the pressures of the season, her sister, her Secret Santa and a stint volunteering to Face Paint at a Christmas function for the public. I need not have worried my single girl would pine away under her tree (pun intended), wishing for Christmas Past - she's as busy now as ever she was.

We had a wonderful time - the ballet was performed in combination with a local dance company joined by principal dancers from the Canadian School of Ballet. Could Christmas be more special?

"I love the Nutcracker," she gushed as we took our seats front and centre (thanks, again, Brianne), "I come to watch it every year."

Stop the music!

Every year? I've never been to a performance, and Becky comes every year! So much for originality. Note to self: Do more research.

Failures: For Secret Santa to be as successful as Becky. Lord only knows how the real Santa gets it all done in one night, because I could locate neither a parking spot in the dark, nor the restaurant she had chosen on Kelowna's waterfront for our Secret Santa dinner date before the show. I had no choice but to call her on her cell phone and blow my cover.

I'm sure she breathed a sigh of relief to finally have her Secret Santa unveiled.

"I was 99% sure, it was you, Mom. But, if it turned out I had been set up on a blind date, I decided if some guy went to all this trouble to meet me, I'd marry him!"

Becky delivers!

2011-12-11T15:24:00.000-08:00

Clue #2: Get Lamb Chop to Kelowna's Christmas Tree Light Up. Bonus points = an extra gift if you capture a picture with Santa. Hence the deer in the headlights picture showcased on yesterday's blog!

Location: Kelowna

Daily Goal: Post the saga of Lamb Chop's Christmas Adventure as Becky carted her all over town, bringing Christmas cheer to the puppet (and the life of a single girl).

Clue #3: Pick your 5 favorite spots to be in Kelowna @ Christmas time. Maybe grab a seasonal coffee, hot chocolate, or tea! Take a waltz through the flowers! Pick up a candy cane or two! (For blog followers: Each of these suggestions are names of dance routines in the Nutcracker) Please ensure Lamb Chop is appropriately dressed for the weather (insert Happy Face here).

Trials & Tribulations: Becky was SO careful, as she knew how generous Brianne had been to entrust her with a cherished family heirloom (I had no idea when I asked for the favour, that this was a much-loved childhood toy.) Lamb Chop was even buckled in with her during car rides to avoid getting dirty.

While "on the lam" - the puppet thoroughly enjoyed a coffee at Starbucks, inhaling the scent of live Christmas trees, toodled along city sidewalks Christmas shopping, she puckered up under the mistletoe, and even wiled away an evening creating Christmas crafts!

Becky and I got this "challenge" accomplished together the weekend Mike and I popped in to decorate her tree. When she spotted the nutcracker on a store shelf, and insisted on a picture with the wee beastie, I was sure the gig was up.

I was wrong.

You should have seen the looks we were getting from passers-by as we staged shot after shot for these photo montages Becky created. Who has more fun?

Clue #4: After combining the answers to three very convoluted YouTube videos involving Flight of the Concord's "Sugar" Lumps, Will Ferrel feeling it down in his "Plums", and Monty Python's military "Fairy" sketch, Becky was challenged to create a costume for Lamb Chop.

She not only posted this irresistible image to Facebook, complete with hand-crafted wings and a toilet paper tutu... she went to the trouble of building a poster promoting Lamb Chop's own performance of the dance!

Little did she know her video challenge was up and coming. She racked up extra bonus points (a bottle of wine) for going above and beyond, and my fears of overloading my stressed-out daughter vanished when THIS appeared on her Facebook page:

By this point in the game she was defending herself from Facebook comments like, "I think you have too much time on your hands!"

Successes: Melissa got in on the action, asking if Lilly was the understudy.

Failures: For Becky to follow my advice and send a communique telling her Secret Santa to go stuff it!

Be careful what you wish for!

2011-12-10T23:12:00.000-08:00

Something tells me Santa didn't quite expect to hear Lamb Chop's Christmas List this year.

Location: Kelowna

Daily Goal(s): For Becky to complete 7 challenges in 10 days.

Trials & Tribulations: Way back at Thanksgiving, our family drew names for Christmas - the popular vote was to keep it a "Secret Santa" gift. Lucky me, I drew Becky's name and the wheels immediately began turning. How could I help make Christmas for a single girl extra special? One thing was certain - puppy dog, Lilly wasn't going to stuff her stocking.

I immediately posted a poll on Facebook, addressed to all participants:

Secret Santa wants to know: would you rather have a gift, or an experience for Christmas?

Without exception, everyone replied "Experience". . . including Becky. Silly girl.

I neglected to post it with the warning, "Be careful what you wish for."

Enlisting the assistance of two "elves" into my Secret Santa camp, I conjured up a scavenger hunt for a pair of tickets to Kelowna's annual performance of the Nutcracker - tucked inside a children's music box.

Becky's girlfriend, Brianne jumped on the bandwagon when I asked for permission to use a wonderful hand puppet of Lamb Chop her mother had made for her when she was a little girl. Elf Lissa lent her expertise to help me create seven challenges in the form of riddles for our blissfully unaware victim to decode as her "experience" unfolded.

To maintain our anonymity, we created a Secret Santa Hotmail account for clues and correspondence. Each clue would have vague references to "The Nutcracker" buried somewhere deep inside it. The idea was, for Becky to post proof to Facebook each time she completed a task.

There! That oughta keep her hopping!

Thanks to Skype... I captured an image of my very stressed-out daughter, who had little patience for the bizarre challenges issued by her Secret Santa. "I don't have TIME for this!"

Clue #1 explained she would be "russian around for the next week on this yule tide adventure!" She was directed to KIDNAP LAMB CHOP and post proof to Facebook with a copy of the day's paper.

Successes: At our end, everyone else in the know was having a blast as we followed her brilliant Facebook posts. Becky may not have had the time, but she couldn't resist the pull of applying her creative flare as she tackled each challenge.

Failures:

• For me to think things through. Setting up a Secret Santa date on December 10th, meant I had to put in back-to-back appearances in Kelowna, two weekends in a row. How could I decline an invitation to help decorate her Christmas tree the weekend before, without spilling the beans?

• For my clues to convey "this shouldn't cost you anything." Poor Becky, in her desperation to earn "bonus points", she paid $10 at the mall to get Lamb Chop in to see Santa. I don't know who was more surprised - Becky because they actually CHARGED her - or Santa, forced to pose with a puppet!

Happy surprises are the best surprises

2011-12-10T10:00:00.000-08:00

Ezra copes with cutting four teeth at once. What a godsend it has been, now that colic is a thing of the past, turns out we have a strong, silent type on our hands.

Location: Grammie and Papa's place!

Daily Goal: My daily goal was to survive a typical Thursday working two jobs - until the call came in:

"Hi Mom. Do you mind if the kids and I come for a visit for a few days?"

Mind? Why would I mind?

Trials & Tribulations: Brett has landed a snowmobile gig in Alberta - and Jess' loss is my gain. She has never cottoned to the idea of being in a house alone, and knows full-well she is welcome to come jump on our beds anytime.

Happy surprises are the best surprises.

Monkey see, monkey do. Not only was Tessa caught sidling up to her Papa's computer (one she has never been permitted to play with), she felt compelled to put on his reading glasses before she started commanding the keyboard.

Successes: Jess and I were treated to a once-in-a-lifetime command performance this visit. Heaven help us, Tessa's a performer, too!

Failures:

• For Tessa to truly appreciate a standing ovation.

• For me to have a bouquet of roses at the ready.

Becky's Christmas Tree

2011-12-04T19:47:00.000-08:00

Location: Becky's Christmas tree; Kelowna; a little nippy outside.

Daily Goal: Mike and I kicked off this holiday season with a road trip to Becky's to help put up her tree.

Trials & Tribulations: While the "faja" jumped into the fray of fluffing the fake tree and fighting with the strings of lights. . .

Becky and I jumped into the kitchen to commence whipping up foccacia bread, gingerbread cookies, and a double batch of sugar cookies along with a plethora of appys.

Successes: Food was delicious - the wine flowed - we spent a wonderful evening with daughter #1. We now have two Christmas movies under our belt, and capped the night off with a great sleep in the "guest suite" which can be reserved in her new complex.

Snowflakes: they're everywere, they're everywhere!

Everything got the royal treatment. Even the cookies were decorated with white and dark chocolate, then everyone on Becky's Christmas list got a personalized package of goodies, all ribboned, bowed, and labelled. Is there anything better than a homemade gift?

Failures:
• For either of her sisters to have the free time to make the trip with us. With both in university full-time, the crunch of finals proved overwhelming.

• We missed them both. In true Webb-girl fashion, we did not hit the hay anytime before 2 in the morning. Oh, decorating the tree was the easy part. We can do that with our eyes closed. It was mastering the art of painting with melted chocolate on the never-ending stack of cookies that proved the most challenging, and the most fun!

• For me to bring home any cookies!

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

2011-11-07T10:00:00.000-08:00

Location: Barriere; first day of snow

Daily Goal: Revel in the great feeling of getting the winter's wood all tucked away. . . right in the nick of time :)

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

Just hangin' with the locals

2011-11-06T20:00:00.000-08:00

Location: Harrison Hot Springs on a beautiful, crisp, autumn day in November.

Daily Goal: Do what we've always promised to do - take the time to stop in and visit with family in this neck of the woods.

Trials & Tribulations: There just never seems to be enough time during any trip to the coast to squeeze in everything we wish we cold do. For years we have wanted to find the time to visit with Auntie Joan and Uncle Lorne - and now that Auntie Wendy and Uncle Jeff live in Harrison Hot Springs as well - we couldn't resist killing two birds with one stone. As the Cirque Du Soleil concert was a Friday, we opted to spend the remainder of the weekend with these branches of our family tree.

Thankfully, both sets of aunts and uncles played gracious hosts and jumped at the chance to spend the remainder of the weekend with us. Becky and I grabbed our cameras and joined Auntie Joan for what could only be described as a stunning afternoon walk, followed by a cozy cafe lunch where we were joined by Auntie Wendy.

I have quite an attachment to this area of the province. Not only is it breathtakingly beautiful, when I was a little girl, Harrison is where my family would come on a regular basis each year to "take in the baths". Mike and I celebrated a wedding anniversary at the hotel - and I, for one, will never forget the shenanigans following Larry's daughter's wedding. . . a few doors removed from that fancy hotel. Far too many stories to relate here.

It was quite nostalgic for me to reminisce about the past - and take in all the changes.

Successes:

• We girls wrapped up a memorable day of fresh air, shopping, and schmoozing with the locals (a deep sense of community exists here) by meeting up with the boys for a wonderful dinner at Auntie Wendy's home. They had spent the day well out of our hair, fishing in Uncle Lorne's boat.

• Mike was pleased to note Auntie Wendy has dark brown sheets on her guest bed. (Kelly, whose bed we had jumped on the previous night - boasts pristine white).

Failures: For me to get Uncle Jeff in a picture.

• For the boys to catch any fish!

• For Auntie Joan to comprehend it doesn't matter how slow she walks - it will never be any slower than two photographers (Becky pictured above) reveling in a leisurely afternoon embracing "shiny thing" syndrome.

• For Auntie Wendy to be in the room when Mike said,

"Oh good, we can fart in these sheets."

Turns out, there IS a method to Kelly's madness.

- - -

This slideshow captures my photos of the day - enjoy :)

This photo album generated with Smilebox

Thinking outside the (ice) box

2011-11-05T18:00:00.000-07:00

Location: My fridge.

Daily Goal: The usual. . . look inside, seeking some form of inspiration for dinner.

Trials & Tribulations: Girlfriend Linda has a saying about me (repeated on a regular basis): If it's a snake, it would have bit you!

This sums up my success rate when looking for anything - it's usually located right under my nose.

Such was the case for this wonderful message. It brightened my day; all the more special because it has been there all along - unassuming, patiently waiting to be discovered.

I can only suppose, it's been there since Hallowe'en when we had Jess, Brett and babies for dinner and it has taken me days to notice it. Why it jumped out at me today, I'll never know?

Successes: Thank you, Jess (or Brett?) 10 BONUS points for originality - not to mention resourcefulness. Amazing what can be accomplished when thinking outside the (ice) box!

Failures: I never would have attempted to spell anything I didn't have the magnetic letters for.

Poozie ponders: How often is it, that the obstacles preventing us from achieving great things are me, myself, and I?

- - - - -

Update on Mike's (medical) condition. I must say, in the world of cancer (or the potential of cancer) things operate rather efficiently.

Last Thursday was the scan - we headed to the coast first-thing Friday morning to take in an inspirational performance by Cirque Du Soleil: Micheal Jackson THE IMMORTAL
(Allow the pop-up video to play and you will get a taste of our evening in a two-minute clip.) C'est magnifique!

After squeezing in a visit with everyone in residence at Harrison Hot Springs, we returned home Monday to discover a telephone message had been recorded the day after the scan, asking us to contact our doctor for the results - not even a 12-hour turn-around.

Good news: he's cancer free. AND, now it's official: he's "cracked". (Well, I could have told you that!). The doctor explained the expedited results confirming this is indeed a wound that has healed over were due to its location - if cancer was present, it would have spread from somewhere else.

We are celebrating this clean bill of health (ignoring all the other aches and pains accompanying the aging process) with an evening of revelry in our empty nest, including a bottle of wine, and dinner of Mike's choosing.

Cracked One: "Gee, you must really love me. I should get news like this more often."

Loving (very relieved) Wife: "You - are an idiot."

Highlight(s) of my day

2011-11-03T23:00:00.000-07:00

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that.
Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."
~ Martin Luther King, Jr.

Location: A hallway at school / a waiting room.

Daily Goal: Regardless of the stresses in my life - leave myself open to experience the sunshine moments.

Trials & Tribulations: I can't say I know anyone who leads a stress-free life. We all have our load to bear. At times our worries and our woes are self-inflicted, and at other times, we bear the brunt of circumstances beyond our control.

Thankfully, I choose to have an outlook based on incurable optimism. Overall, I do believe life is good. People are good. I think Michael J Fox has written a book about the ability some possess to always see the upside of life. Note to self: must read that book.

Today was one of those days filled with its share of anxieties - with sunshine streaming through. Had I not been open to the potential of a cup half-full, I might not have had a good day at all. Instead, I will have to chalk this one up to a very memorable one - and for all the right reasons.

Are my troubles still there? Yes. Do they define my life? No.

At the end of my very long day, I commented to my girlfriend Linda,

"Do you want to hear the highlight of my day? Well, actually, there were two. . ."

"Two!" her husband interrupted, with a tone of disbelief. "Two," he repeated, laughing, "You gotta write a book."

- - -
Moment #1:

I returned to the on-call roster this week, following a four month hiatus, and one of my first shifts placed me with (among four other students to target in the same class) a five-year-old with "behaviour" issues.

My apprehension was present on many levels. Will such a long break affect my effectiveness as a support worker? Can I establish an immediate rapport with this child or will he shut down/act out because he has no connection to me?

With my worst fears realized, he chose Option A and shut down. Eventually, we worked through it, together. With only a few of my feathers ruffled, I found myself in the hall, assisting him with his coat and boots for recess break. In the shuffle, he noticed a long, fresh, bright red burn on the underside of my wrist.

"What happened?" he asked, reaching out to stop my hand from fastening the ends of the zipper on his coat.

"Oh, that?" I replied with a smile, "I burned myself when I was cooking my dinner."

"My mommy says a kiss always makes it better."

Before I knew it, this challenging, head-strong, can't sit still, bundle of frustration bent down and impulsively kissed my boo boo better.

"Why, thank you," I said, swallowing the small lump in my throat.

That one, fleeting gesture restoring my faith in the inherent goodness of children.

- - -
Moment #2:

As per usual, any day in my life has multiple agendas. Today was no exception. From school, I rushed to attend the final installment of a course (ironically enough on Applied Behaviour Analysis). With that three-hours under my belt, I flew to Jess' house to pick up Mike and head to the hospital for his scheduled CT scan.

This situation is wrought with its own set of stressors. While trying to diagnose one issue, a previous regular x-ray revealed a potential trouble spot totally unrelated to his original aches and pains.

"Have you ever broken your ribs?" the GP asked of Mike as he drew our attention to a mass hidden amongst the many hues of grey.

"Let's see, rugby, football, baseball, hockey. . . (not to mention motorcycles, or marriage I mutter). . . there was that time I fell off the ladder when I was cleaning the chimney. . ." Mike paused, "Let's just say, if I did, I wasn't aware of it."

I am not a stranger to living in limbo - diagnoses involve a process, and that process is out of my control. Although the ugly, ever-present "cancer" worry reared it's head, I forcefully shoved it to the back of my consciousness. We will cross that bridge when, and only if, we come to it.

On the surface, life rolls merrily along. Deep down I am thinking to myself this has to be what we are ruling out here. Unlike Mike's last go-round with a specialist for his wrists (we are facing a five month delay just to review test results), there were no such lengthy wait times. The span of time between the regular x-ray and this hospital visit was just over one week.

Waiting Room F was tiny - a cubby almost, with access to a bathroom - 8 chairs facing each other without even a reception desk to check in at. Like magic, a technician would appear and call someone's name and off they would go. The moment Mike was summoned, a lone woman, I would say in her mid-fifties, dressed like a throw-back from the hippie-era appeared to occupy his seat.

"Pardon me," she looked me directly in the eyes as she sat, "can I ask you a favour?"

"Certainly." I blurted, for lack of anything else to say.

"I have a friend who is going through a very rough time, and I thought I might try to cheer her up by sending her these cards, but I don't want her to recognize my handwriting."

She reached into her over-sized purse and produced a handful of cards with pictures on them - each one blank inside.

Prepared to write down whatever she dictated, I smiled and reached for the bundle.

"Do you happen to have a pen? I have been leaning on the kindness of strangers," she said, "Anything to boost her spirits. Write whatever you want, just don't sign your name."

Whatever I want? Well, isn't this unique!

I chose a card with a photo of an elderly woman, lying on her back in a snowbank, making a snow angel. Inside I wrote: "Do something spontaneous today. Even if it doesn't snow."

"Oh, that's perfect!" she gushed, "I like you. Will you do another one?"

"Of course!" I said, warming to the idea.

People wearing odd sets of shoes, the photo cutting them off at the knees: "Relax. We're all walking around with multiple personalities - me, myself, and I"

Successes: In no time at all, Mike was finished and we were on our way. My life turned around; put into perspective in under five minutes. With my anxieties safely buried below the surface once again, my heart is filled with the knowledge I have personally contributed to a random act of kindness, and all thanks to this wonderful friend of a woman I will never meet.

Failures: For others to take notice of the amazing things happening all around them. I can only imagine what a mundane life is lead by those who are not open to the optimism and the wonder captured in ordinary moments ~ or better yet, in creating them.

Time flies

2011-10-31T19:39:00.000-07:00

Orange kitties kept our pumpkin company at the front door this year.

Location: Barriere; temps hovering near 0ºC at dinnertime.

Daily Goal: Plug in the pumpkin.

Trials & Tribulations: It has been years since we've actually carved a pumpkin. I never thought I'd be the one who gleefully plugs in the fake one, but I have to admit - there's a smile on my face when I do. Perhaps it's because lately, the number of trick-or-treaters has declined - some years to zero.

As for the orange kitties - I have owned these candle holders for decades, and it never donned on me until this year how effective slipping a piece of orange paper between the candle and the frame would be.

(I think Ezra might be showing signs of post-Paparazzi stress syndrome from Thanksgiving. . . )

The cow-girl and the little green monster graced our doorstep for dinner, before Tessa headed on out to "Trick or Treat!"

Successes: Thankfully, this year we had clusters of kids ring the bell - Tessa loved running to the door to hear, "Trick or Treat!" chime out as she dolled out the candy. A quick study, Jess and Brett reported their cow-girl got the hang of it right away, following her first knock-knock-knock at someone else's door.

Failures: For our granddaughter to realize half her candy got left behind for Papa (and Grammie) to eat.

Even her Daddy tried to pull the wool over her eyes. I had to turn away to prevent bursting out laughing at the look of confusion on her face when she watched Brett unwrap a bright red candy apple made by his Auntie in Clearwater,

"It's okay, Tessa. You won't like this."

She just stared, with her mouth hanging open - her eyes popping from the apple to her dad, and back to the apple. She didn't utter a word (which for Tessa, is somewhat of a feat in itself).

Jess muttered under her breath,

"Are you serious, Brett. Do you really think she won't like it?"

Almost imperceptibly he shook his head, no. . . "Do you know how long it has been since I've had one of these?"

"Give her a bite!"

Time flies when we're having fun.
Has it already been two years since Tigger had her first Hallowe'en?

There's no doubt these two are brother and sister; until I saw these two side-by-side (Ezra at five-months, Tessa at six) I had no idea how big Ezra's eyes actually are! I tend to compare fair, blonde hair and blue eyes to his sister's dark, dramatic looks. I guess blonde eyelashes can be somewhat deceiving.

No rest for the wicked

2011-10-30T15:42:00.000-07:00

Time to plant garlic!

Location: The garden; a balmy 12ºC.

Daily Goal: Head back up the mountain, hoping for the rest of that log.

Trials & Tribulations: With our eyes glued to the road, looking for tell-tale tracks of other vehicles, we headed into the hills to claim the last of the log we left behind yesterday. To our delight it was still there, waiting for us.

It took no time at all for Mike to buck and split it, while I loaded it into the bed of the truck. Now back home to stack ONE LAST TIME.

No rest for the wicked; putting an end to the wood shed doesn't mean putting an end to the work.

Successes: We were done by noon. On a day that was predicted to be pouring rain, the sun was trying to poke through, so I shoved Mike back out into the wild, blue yonder to go fishing (no thank you. . . I cherish whatever feeling I have left in my frozen behind) and commenced work in the garden.

"But there's all these leaves?" Mike said, "We should have raked them up and taken them up the mountain."

"Up the mountain? Are you nuts? They're going into the vegetable garden, thank you very much!"

"Not all of them?"

"All of them."

Failures: For the wind to blow only in the direction of the garden.

Calculated risks

2011-10-29T15:13:00.000-07:00

This should be our last weekend for getting wood - and just in time,
because up where the wood is, the snow has started to fly!

Location: Dixon Mountain; 5ºC.

Daily Goal: Finish stocking the wood shed.

One more oughta do 'er.

Trials & Tribulations: Work smarter, not harder. Mike located one mother of a tree to fall for our last load. Normally, we fall a minimum of three to fill the truck.

Successes: We saved ourselves a lot of time (and energy) by only falling just one. Of course it's much broader at its base - and, potentially, could prove more difficult to split. But once it was bucked, Mike started with the largest log and was pleased to discover it split with little effort.

"Now, why can't all logs be like this?"

Failures:

• For us to guestimate correctly.

This tree was so large, we had to abandon the last 12 or 15 feet because we couldn't squeeze it all in the truck. Even after opting to leave the tailgate down and extending our load by securing an extra row of raw logs, standing on end, with tie downs.

We had no choice but to chance that it will still be there waiting for us first-thing tomorrow morning, because out here, it's first come, first serve. There's no tagging it with a sign announcing we'll be back to claim the leftovers.

We tried to make ourselves feel better, by only bucking what we could fit.

"If someone else wants this, they'll have to work for it."

We were hoping to complete the last row for this logging show today. While this overloaded truck would do just that, this wood is too good to walk away from. Perfectly seasoned, the bark is falling off as the maul makes contact. What we can't fit in the shed, will be stacked in the basement.

• For the RCMP to pay any attention to the "extended" load we strapped in with those BRIGHT yellow tie-downs.

We knew we were taking a calculated risk in doing so, factoring in only 2km of actual highway driving. Knowing Mike does nothing by half-measures - I was confident it was secure, but I'm sure that row perched on the tailgate couldn't be legal.

What were the chances we'd run into a road block in the middle of a Saturday afternoon on a back road?

Turns out, chances were pretty good!

Lucky for us, police waved us on by without a second glance, pre-occupied with issuing Barriere's mayor (up for re-election) a road-side suspension for being over his legal limit. . . only his levels involved alcohol - not winter's wood.

According to the local paper, he faces over $4000 in fines; his vehicle has been impounded for 30 days, there is a 90 day suspension on his driving license, he has to participate in a responsible driver program before he can get his vehicle back, and he has to register for the ignition interlock program.

Poozie ponders poor judgement: why is it, in today's day and age, there are those who attempt to calculate risks at all?

• For me to snap the picture for the paper.

As we slowly crept by the RCMP, holding our breath and at the same time, wondering what the mayor was doing out of his vehicle, I held my camera in my lap. Hoping to "shoot a deer" on our way down the mountain, I guess I missed my chance. . . could'a had a deer, caught in the headlights, for my portfolio.

I'm a lumberjack and I'm okay!

2011-10-16T21:26:00.000-07:00

Mike sports his new (lumber)jack shirt while getting wood this weekend - a birthday gift from his "dear mama".

Location: "The bush"; highs of 10ºC today.

Daily Goal: Get back at 'er! Devote Saturday and Sunday to that wood pile.

Trials & Tribulations: We couldn't get the Monty Python song, "I'm A Lumberjack And I'm Okay" out of our heads all day, Saturday. Perhaps because the new shirt is red? Perhaps because too many things surrounding this song fell into place. The odds of this highly successful troupe creating a skit about this profession - AND centering it in BC - are pretty slim.

Things started off great - we sourced and fell prime, dry, ready-to-burn wood before we even arrived at last week's burn pile - only to turn around and head home when one of the lumberjacks in the truck realized his chainsaw was calling him.

Returning home gave me the perfect opportunity to go for a wee pee and grab some chocolate bars out of the Hallowe'en stash.

With a smile, I offered it up to my forgetful logger,

"Snickers?"

It's quite something, this logging show we two put on. Step One involves locating a permit on-line to print out and sign.

The fun begins when locating and falling a dead tree. . .

. . . ensuring it is not easily accessible because it has been left behind on purpose (by actual "lumberjacks") for woodpeckers to live in (there's a fine for cutting down those ones). We then commence chaining it up so June, the "skidder operator" can haul it out to open ground with the pick-up truck. Next comes bucking - splitting - and stacking (for the first time) into the bed of the truck and the body of the trailer.

Filling our broken-down trailer is the easy part - no stacking required. I literally become a wood chucker. . . tossing the wood into a loosey-goosey pile so as not to overload the decrepit beastie.

The vantage point from the "skidder's" rear view mirror as Mike wraps a log with a set of cable and chains.

After an hour or so of relentlessly wielding the maul, Mike announced (to no one in particular),

"A lawn tractor, a shed to put it in, and a log-splitter. . . that's all I need!"

He reminds me of Steve Martin's character in the movie, "The Jerk" . . . just this ashtray. . . and this lamp. . . (and a new trailer). . .

Successes: We lucked out both days with the weather. Although we woke to -5C, with socked in clouds - yuk, not a great day for getting wood - when the shed's only half-full, time is of the essence.

Little did we realize, it was a banner day up above!

Once we began the climb up the logging road we quickly rose above the heavy bank of fog to clear, blue skies. . .

. . . and an amazing photo op.

We made it back with enough time to spare on Sunday to winterize the pool, grunge out the vegetable garden, and tuck most of the potted plants and hanging baskets into the greenhouse for their long winter's nap.

Then we collapsed.

Failures:

• For anyone to actually use the term "lumberjack". In this neck o' the woods, they're known as loggers.

• To finish filling the shed. Looks like another weekend of how much wood can these wood chucks chuck in store for the waskally Webbs :)

• For dinner to cook itself.

• For Monty Python's lyrics to be the only ones I heard Mike sing today. Seems where there's logs, there's bound to be "log frogs" which love to bark out a chorus as lumberjacks bend over their saws, sharpening each tooth blade.

Picture snapped last weekend; same valley - same frogs.

Note to self: Don't stand down wind.

Two places at the same time (aka: What really happened)

2011-10-11T12:31:00.000-07:00

Wait just one cotton-pickin' minute! What are YOU doing here?
(With this many mouths to feed - two puking bunnies, filled with Kelly's nummy turkey gravy put in an appearance.)

Location: The Webb household; Thanksgiving weekend.

Daily Goal: Reflect on what REALLY happened. Lord knows, there were enough witnesses.

Thanks to Becky's camera - I've got a panoramic shot of the kitchen - proof positive I was indeed, in two places at the same time!

Trials & Tribulations: Time and again I thought to myself, if only I could split myself in two; perhaps one of me could actually keep track of my wine glass?

Although I introduced two boxes of wine glasses into the mix - mine (even with a wine charm attached!) always seemed to vanish into thin air. It only took me two days to realize Peter was generously pouring wine for all - and any glass not attached to its owner was up for grabs!

The girls did NOT experience this problem.

With this many people to feed, meals did not just 'happen'.

Thank God for helping hands, everywhere I turned. Not only did Becky capture Lisa and Kelly, checking on the bird (above), Saturday's amazing feed of lasagna was a cast-off of girlfriend, Linda - who was nowhere in attendance.

I think the general consensus was, "Where can we get a friend who cooks like this and doesn't think it's good enough to serve?"

At least someone found the time to nap :)

Silly me. I neglected to factor in the noise level coming from the banshees in the living room when I requested the girls keep Tessa occupied during the carve the bird/mash the potatoes/make the gravy/time the veggies crunch.

Jess' reaction upon hearing my compromise. "Sure, I'll bath the baby - if you want to do the dishes?"

Jess is a very accomplished photographer, and captured some amazing shots with her camera. Now, when she'll find the time to actually edit and pass some on to Mommy Dearest is anyone's guess?
Some things in life are just out of reach.

Somewhere in the thick of things, Ezra got his first tooth.

What goes around, comes around.

Dave, who spent a considerable amount of time taping Mike's card shut with a ROLL of scotch tape, deeply regretted his decision. Right about the midway point of the festivities, he turned to me and said under his breath,

"I have NEVER met anyone who takes longer to open gifts than Mike. It's almost as painful as watching Lisa eat."

"Watching Lisa eat?" I replied. "He comes by it honestly Dave. The champ of slow eating belongs to his mother; rumour has it, she eats so slow, it takes her an hour and a half to watch 60 minutes."

Successes: Grandma dubbed it a "paparazzi weekend" ~ and she'd be right. We video taped the arrival of the cake. Keep in mind, this is just a one-minute sample. I'll let is speak for itself:

Failures: For Grandma to keep the "What? Not another picture!" look off her face when Kelly said, "Smile for the birdie!"

Giving thanks

2011-10-10T19:30:00.000-07:00

Ezra lapped up all the attention he could muster up (which wasn't difficult) during the family blitz, Thanksgiving weekend.

Location: Our house: every bedroom, spare room, and couch; the camper; the local motel; and one Westfalia van thrown into the mix. Temps dipped below zero overnight for the first time; beautiful sunshine all weekend long.

Daily Goal(s): Let's just say with 16 of us tripping over each other (not counting neighbors brave enough to join the fray) - daily goals are too numerous to mention.

Trials & Tribulations: Mike and I have thoroughly enjoyed hosting Thanksgiving weekend - combined with his 55th birthday celebration. And, if the flood of incoming emails and phone calls are any indication, so did everyone else who tossed their hat into the ring.

It was quite something, the weeks leading up to this weekend.

Rrrrring!

"Hi June, it's Lisa. Dave and I were thinking of coming your way this year. . . did you get the email from Jann and Peter?"

Jann and Peter?

Grandma, too.

Rrrring!

"Hi dear, it's mom. Dad and I were wondering if we should jump in the car with Kelly and Larry. . ."

Abby, too.

Successes: The more the merrier!

Failures: For Kelly and Larry to garnish any spot to lay their heads at this nut-house. Although they were the first to express interest in singing to the birthday boy, as far back as mid-summer, ironically enough, they were the first to book a motel room once they heard about the numbers we were expecting.

- - -
Amid all the "Thank you for a wonderful time!" feedback pouring in, Mike felt compelled to reciprocate with a thank you of his own:

A thank you by Smilebox

The Secret

2011-10-07T11:16:00.000-07:00

Juniper berries: the secret to the best turkey brine.

Location: Somewhere, out there.

Daily Goal: Locate Juniper berries - which, according to the guest chef on CBC's BC Almanac, are the secret to a perfectly brined bird.

Trials & Tribulations: Brine my bird? I'd never heard of such a thing. That is until I tuned into CBC a few weeks ago. The advice from the chef ran along the lines of once you do it, you will never go back.

Oh, he had all these technical reasons - to do with the density of brown meat compared to white (you can't have one cooked to perfection without the other drying out) - that is, UNLESS you brine your bird. Brining was the equalizer. Brining was all things good.

He rattled this recipe off the top of his head - and promised to post it on the Almanac website. Ya right.

I had to download the hour-long podcast and source out that 30-second interval where he rapped off the proportions.

"For every five litres of water you will add. . . "

As I am not located with the Granville Island market at my back door, a trip to The Loops yielded all manner of responses to my queries. . . most of which began with the usual reply to any question I utter to a service clerk,

"Geez, I've never been asked that before. . ."

Successes: Years ago, I was introduced to the book, "The Secret". The basic philosophy was to achieve a goal, all one had to do was place it solidly in the forefront of one's consciousness. The example was a feather. Just think of one, and, soon enough, a feather will appear. (This is supposed to work for parking spots close to mall entrances, too.)

Ask. Believe. Receive.

Failures: For me to give up. No one I approached in Kamloops last week had ever heard of Juniper berries. Mike suggested I head into the bush.

"Can't you just go pick some?"

At risk of potentially poisoning the guests - or spending hours on the internet educating myself on varieties of wild juniper berries indigenous to BC - I opted to hit acceptance and move on. Time to clean off the front of the fridge.

The surface of my fridge gathers as much moss as the surface of my kitchen table. It is the gathering place of all manner of items I must have deemed important enough to place somewhere prominent. This includes old, yellowed cartoons (some as old as my marriage - and just as relevant today as the day I stuck them up on a different fridge in a mobile home in Ruskin), receipts, photos, and newly introduced to the mix, Tessa's magnetic alphabet set.

Berating myself for the disaster zone I lovingly refer to as my kitchen (my GAWD, spotless-at-any-given-moment-slap-any-room-in-my-house-on-the-cover-of-a-magazine-KELLY is coming!), I began with the most obvious eye-sore, and yanked on a massive legal-sized, bright pink offering. What is this? And what could I possibly be saving it for?!

It was a receipt - from a home-party company called Epicure - for a product purchased months ago. Yes, there's always a method to my madness; I had tacked it up in case I forgot I'd ordered it - on the off-chance it did not get delivered.

Let me tell you, their marketing works. The receipt (aside from being NEON pink) is a list of all their stock. And there, staring me in the face, was none other than Juniper Berries.

You could have knocked me over with that feather! A quick call to the rep and I was informed if I placed the order immediately, Juniper berries would land on my doorstep today.

The added bonus? I only need 10 per batch. This bottle will last me a lifetime of turkeys.

I know better

2011-10-06T16:25:00.000-07:00

Location: The Webb household.

Daily Goal: With two days remaining until (lots and lots of) family arrives for Thanksgiving, I was prioritizing tasks yesterday - i.e. do not make up any beds Neo can access as she will have a hey day spreading cat fur on every surface.

Baking is good.

The scene of the crime.

Trials & Tribulations: Every surface - inside and out - that can get the "Martha Stewart touch" is being whipped into shape. This house never looked so good. But, then again, that's the upside to having family visit - my house never looks as clean as when company's coming.

Time to spare (I use the term loosely) is also the upside to a very SLOW start to the relief roster I am slotted into at work. I'm guessing the delay in flu season is due to our delightful Indian Summer. No one's getting sick these days.

Hence - time enough to whip up a batch of Grandma's famous Almas Lepeny (Apple Squares). Now, I now better than to alter any ingredient - or step - in a Hungarian recipe. So, in true "good pupil" fashion, when instructed to, "Remove from oven and cover with wax paper and a tea towel till cool", I did just that.

A piping hot offering of Almas Lepeny, straight from the oven is going to take HOURS and HOURS to cool completely (the thing weighs at least 8 pounds). With contemporary fridge space at a premium - what better place for this work of art than my Russian fridge? Temperatures outside overnight are dipping to 4C or lower.

Perfect.

It not only smelled divine, it looked quite comfortable nestled up against the ornamental peppers, transplanted from my garden to adorn the patio table on the porch.

Successes: A little heavy on the cloves, but other than that, I have to say this batch of Apple Squares is delicious. I made certain, when I cut off a teeny piece for Mike to enjoy for dessert, I reminded him of the strings attached,

"This is just because I love you - and nothing more gets sampled until guests arrive!"

Failures: For me to know better.

I woke up in the morning to discover the tea towel on the covered tray had been pulled back, exposing a third of my creation, with nibble marks eaten clear through the wax paper! The culprit preferred only the pastry and left two very distinct indentations as it leaned over the tray.

Both Neo and Snickles were inside overnight. . . in 18 years I have never had anyone - or anything - "sample" offerings left outside in the cool air of my Russian fridge.

It didn't take Mike long to draw his own conclusions. As I peeled back the tea towel to survey what remained of yesterday's hard work, the light went on. Company's loss is Mike's gain.

"Does this mean I get to eat whatever you can't salvage?"

My answering smile brought an immediate, "Yes!" delivered with a fist pump.

Clowns to the left. . . jokers to the right. . .

2011-10-01T20:00:00.000-07:00

Mystery solved.

Location: Kelowna; pouring rain; 12ºC.

Daily Goal: Pick up Becky's sectional couch and temporarily "relocate" it to our house, adding to the collection she is already compiling at Webb's Storage & Animal Shelter: one futon / one cat.

Trials & Tribulations: Our overnight blitz to Kelowna to pick up a sectional couch quickly expanded into,

"I haven't actually got around to doing a lot of packing yet. . . "

Roughly translated, that meant,

"Great! You brought the truck. Can we make a few trips to my new place before you head out? I'll order pizza."

Packing commenced the minute we got there Friday night and lasted until about midnight - when we set the alarm for 8 a.m. to do more packing. Three round-trips later, we got around to loading the couch mid-afternoon.

Comments overheard by the fly on the wall:

"Why don't you just lay down that thick blanket we brought, Mike?"

"Because it's raining! Geez, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out! Why do you ALWAYS argue with me."

"Mom, why do you push his buttons?"

"Daughter, it is never my intention to push anyone's buttons. I am quite accustomed to having a mind of my own."

"June, you are blocking the rear view mirror. Again. Why do you have to do that EVERY time we get in the truck?"

"Do you mean to say darling, 'Could you please move the picture you are holding, it is blocking my view of the mirror'? To which I might reply, 'Why, of course dear.'"

"I don't think your father realizes how many clothes you actually have. . ."

Poor Becky - stuck in the middle of the Bickerings. Clowns to the left of her - jokers to the right. Thank heaven she's stuck in the middle of fantastic, brand new digs. Oh, it's going to take her a bit to adjust to life as a single girl - following a mutually agreed upon, very civil split with Tall Paul - but I think she'll come out of this shining like a new penny (and a few closets lighter when it comes to her wardrobe).

The girl hasn't thrown anything out for a decade. Kind of like her mother, who still has the business card Becky created, oh, about a decade ago, tacked up on my fridge (posted at top of blog).

What seemed like four, no, at least five closet's worth of outfits bubbled up from the bowels of her bedroom. Downsizing from a whole townhouse of "stuff", to sharing a fully-furnished condominium with a new roommate means she must now "fit into" (pun intended) one bedroom, a closet, and a bath.

Purging and cleansing is almost as bitter-sweet as ending a relationship. The process is chock full of, I don't have room for. . . can't remember the last time I ever needed. . . don't really want. . .

Even I said,

"Oh, look! I've been wondering where THESE went!" when Becky stumbled on a rather familiar looking set of Salt and Pepper Shakers, which vanished into thin air in 2008!

"Oh, those?" came the casual reply, "We were going to have them painted as a surprise."

Successes:

• Shakers are quite happily pinning daughter #1 to my fridge, once again.

• Her loss is a gain for almost everyone else as she is sharing the wealth; half her wardrobe is being offered up for co-workers or their teenage daughters to wear.

• Pouring rain finally stopped when we hit Monte Lake - clear blue skies, and sailing, the rest of the way home:

Husband's apology: "I'm sorry you pissed me off."

Wife's reply: "Ditto."

Failures: For us to renovate the basement - the only way this couch is going to fit anywhere.

Our half-finished Chalet is looking a lot like a storage shed these days.

If it smells like a sheep. . .

2011-09-28T08:00:00.000-07:00

If it smells like a sheep; sounds like a sheep; and doesn't look like a sheep - you must be at the Winter Fair :)

Location: The Provincial Winter Fair; Barriere; 28ºC; muggy and WINDY.

Daily Goal: Support Madi & Cam's efforts with their 4-H sheep projects.

Trials & Tribulations: Poozie ponders if "surreal" (my description for our balmy weather) is what the president of the board at PWF is feeling? Because this event is a resounding success - despite it's relocation to Barriere.

Showing a project can be very intense. There are many classes - at times it's the sheep on parade - at other times, it's the handler. Madi did well, placing first (in the province) for a class where she judged the animals.

I think it took Cam a while to absorb that he won a ribbon.

4-H beef and sheep projects I expected - photography and sewing came as a surprise to me.

The sewing display (which included an iron, all plugged in, sitting pretty and ready to go) boasted the banner "Learn to do by doing". How deep was my head in the sand when my kids were little? To this day, I don't think they know how (or what) to iron, never mind how to operate a sewing machine!

Sparks taught them how to share and be a friend; by the time they were in Brownies - how to bake; Girl Guides garnished them great camping skills. These are life skills to be sure, but I'd be happy if they knew how to sew on their own buttons.

Successes:

The fair was well attended.
On auction day, profits were up. It doesn't get much finer than farm-raised, grain-fed beef and lamb, lovingly nurtured by youth who are documenting every step (price at purchase, formulas for breaking down price per day to care and feed, profit margins).
It was reported to me, even the remote, video-link auction, set up at a Kamloops hotel saw some action. ONE person attended.
It was very gratifying to hear over the loudspeakers, "Let's hear a round of applause for our hosts in Barriere. What a wonderful facility. . .". Again and again that sentiment rang out.

Failures:

For the banquets in years past to rival what a local 4-H grandma rustled up. Not only was prime rib roast with all the trimmings offered (vs. a burger and a bag of chips) - it was served while seated in a heated hall, rather than standing in a cold tent.
For the PWF president to be anywhere in sight when it came his turn to address all participants at the wind-up banquet. He was conspicuously absent during all the standing ovations.

Who has seen the wind?

2011-09-27T14:30:00.000-07:00

Me - on a good hair day :)

Location: Outside; 28ºC.

Daily Goal: Try to capture my favourite weather - wind - with my camera.

Trials & Tribulations: Waking up to discover it was 20C at 6:30 in the morning was surreal. Monday morning I convinced myself if I stared hard enough at the thermometer on my porch I could nudge it just above the freezing mark and my tomatoes would indeed survive.

That's a 20 degree spread. We've been waking up to everything from zero to 8C, 10 if we're lucky! It seemed fall had finally arrived. Then, this chinook? I don't know what else to call it. I keep waiting for that one big clap of thunder that's going to come along and break the spell. Seems it's nowhere in sight.

I commented to someone I bumped into at the local grocery store that this was perfect weather for procrastinators. My tomatoes (which I did not rescue when temps dipped threateningly close to freezing) are ripening happily.

Successes: What else would I do with a good hair day? Why, head outside and hunt for the biggest pocket of wind I can find. You should have seen me, out in the front yard, poised with my camera, waiting for that one BIG gust to blow my hair every which way!

Who has seen the wind?

Neither you, nor I

But when the trees bow down their heads

The wind is passing by

Was it there when I needed it? Well, if the Mohammed won't come to the mountain. . . the least I could do was create a mountain of wind for the shot. There I was, spinning in circles, snapping away!

I got as many bizarre shots on my camera as I did looks from passing motorists :)

Failures:

• I'm not even sure "wind" is classified as weather.

• For me to figure out why the only other poem I can recall by rote is:

I never saw a purple cow

I never hope to see one

But I can tell you anyhow

I'd rather see than be one

Made the paper!

2011-09-26T16:21:00.000-07:00

What do young parents appreciate most at times? Grandparents who will take their grandchildren for a little visit. That is the case with June and Mike Webb. They were seen ambling around the block recently with their grandchildren two year old Tessa Turcott and her little two month old brother Ezra. Their little granddaughter had a wonderful time picking flowers along the roadside, but when her legs tired out, there was a little wagon she could climb in to be pulled by grandpa. Grandson Ezra just snoozed away, getting his fresh air as grandma got her own walk in while pushing the buggy.

Location: Page A5 of the local paper: The North Thompson Star Journal

Daily Goal: Put this somewhere safe to show Tessa!

Trials & Tribulations:Yes, we took the grandkids for two days - way back in mid-August - under the condition Jess would "get some sleep". This mom didn't want to hear about how much her daughter got done with no kids around.

Sure enough, on our walk around the block, Elli, a lovely woman in her 70's (80's?) who lives across the street from Shy, ran out of her house, shouting,

"Yoo hoo! Can I take your picture for the paper?"

It took almost 6 weeks for it to appear, but lo and behold - there it was - in today's issue!

Here are the originals - in colour.

Successes: No species of wild flower remained un-picked.

Failures:

For Elli to spell "Turcotte" correctly. Seems she loves the word "little" and has a habit of dropping her e's. I should never have edited the paper.

For Mike to grasp the full import of 'colic'.

Ezra's peak hours are 6-9 pm. It didn't take us long to grasp the concept of constant movement. When we returned from the walk, Mike tried to read the paper at the kitchen table, while bobbing Ezra up-and-down-up-and-down in a baby bouncy chair with his foot as I geared up for tub-time and sing-a-longs with Tessa in her bubble bath.

Poor Papa; it's only when you think the baby's head is going to bounce right off that Ezra's quiet and content. Don't even think about stopping. Heaven forbid he's asleep. If the bouncing ceases, he jolts to attention and commences wailing again:
Papa: "How long do I have to do this for?"

Grammie: "Let's see. . . his next bottle will be at 10 pm."

Papa: "Ten! But it's only 8:30!"

Grammie: "You don't have to do it. (Insert long pause, delivered with a smile. . . ) You can let him scream if you want."

Wouldn't you know it? Necessity being the mother of invention, Papa figured out if he tucked the bouncy chair right up against the dishwasher while it was running, the hum and vibration worked like a charm. One happy baby with one happy Papa - PLUS, the freedom gained to clean up the rest of the kitchen.

Life is good.

The question is not what you look at. . .

2011-09-25T21:00:00.000-07:00

Wild thistle - going to seed.

Location: 10k up into the mountains surrounding Dixon Valley; 14ºC by mid-morning; 24ºC when the sun broke through mid-afternoon.

Daily Goal: Commence annual forage for winter's wood.

Trials & Tribulations: With temperatures in the early morning hours beginning to dip close to the freezing mark, gathering wood has become a top priority.

It's not as if we've spent the summer procrastinating. Between the three "g's" (grandbabies/golf/gardening), and hot, dry weather creating burning bans - which leads to back-country caution - there has been neither the time, nor the inclination to kick things up a notch.

Not no more.

Due to the fact it will take at least six sojourns to completely stock the wood shed, and family commitments for October are filling up FAST, we must resign ourselves to saying, "No" when pulled in all directions.

Mike put the finishing touches on the wood shed a few days ago.

Who am I kidding? Grandbabies, weather and schedules aside, we couldn't hunt or gather because the shed "wasn't ready yet". Remember? In my life (marriage), accomplishing anything is usually encumbered by some other factor.
It now boasts a perfectly leveled cement block base (hence the fire pit is now devoid of a few cement slabs). My man does not do much by half-measures - he actually paused as we commenced stacking the first row, turned to me and said,

"You know, this is a really nice wood shed. Isn't it?"

The question is not what you look at, but what you see. - Henry David Thoreau.

This quote came to mind as I was framing shots with my camera. Locating, bucking, splitting, and stacking wood is a lot like work - for Mike. My end of the bargain only involves the stacking part.

This leaves me a wonderful block of time to shoot, and shoot, and shoot.

Successes: Everywhere I turned, sleepy bugs were clinging to summer's last remaining blooms.

Some may see an abandoned burn pile in the middle of God-forsaken nowhere.

We think we've struck GOLD - not only is it fir, dried and ready to burn, it's only 10 feet from the road!

Failures: For Mike "see" colour is everywhere. He commented as we were heading out,

"It's too bad autumn is so late this year. The leaves on the trees haven't even begun to change yet."

I rose to the challenge. Vibrant colour may not be in the leaves. . .

but I bet I'll find it somewhere else!

The many faces of Ezra

2011-09-21T22:00:00.000-07:00

Colic? What colic?

Location: Usually in the vicinity of Grammie & Papa.

Daily Goal: Attend a dinner party in James' honour.

Trials & Tribulations: I get such a kick out of the many faces of Ezra.

When he's crying he's the epitome of misery - and when he smiles? Well, you can just slap his picture up there alongside "charm" in the dictionary. He completely transforms, and lucky for him.

We were treated to dinner tonight, hosted by Lissa and her roommates. When the Turcottes arrived, screaming Ezra in tow, Jess made some comment. . . let me see if I can recall it correctly. . . ah yes, I do believe it involved "spawn of the devil".

The dinner hour remains his crowning glory.

Once we had partaken of the girls' delicious offerings (with Jess and Brett conspicuously absent while they took turns, alternately pacing the front of the house with Beelzebub in the stroller) Mike and I jumped in and offered to take Ezra for a walk; constant movement still the magic key.

Successes: By the time we reached Uncle Wayne and Auntie Norma's house, they had the good fortune to meet the little charmer with no sign of the little devil anywhere in sight.

He smiled, and he cooed.

Just goes to show, grandparents never lie when they insist their grandchildren are little angels.

Failures: For parents to be around when wonders never cease.

Twinkle twinkle little man

Tell Grammie a story

I know you can!

Picture collage generated with Smilebox

Stirring the pot

2011-09-14T20:00:00.000-07:00

There's only one thing that could trump teaching daughter #3 how to put up salsa... and that's harvesting the tomatoes she's grown in her first-ever garden, with Tessa!

Location: Jess' garden; Kamloops; 29ºC.

Daily Goal: A(nother) double batch of salsa.

Trials & Tribulations: I had no idea what I was setting myself up for when I agreed to get together with Jess for this mini-marathon. In my head I thought, "Toss in the canner and you're good to go."

It took three trips just to load the trunk with all manner of mega-size bowls and pots, the canner, tools of the trade, peppers, peppers, and more peppers, - and three more to unload it in Kamloops.

Auntie Lissa stopped by - but not before she got the text message: Pick up onions! Seems, despite my best intentions, there's always that ONE thing I forget.

Successes: I'm amazed Jess found a four-hour window of opportunity to do this at all. I think this might be one of the last Wednesday afternoons she's got free. . . till Christmas. Everything in her life has kicked into high gear since she added full-time university student to her role as wife and mother - of a toddler, and a newborn.

Failures: For the cogs of the wheel of the system we all seem to be wrapped up in to all fall into place at once. Jess spent as much time stirring the pot of salsa as she did stirring the pot on the phone.

"What do you mean my student loan was not approved? That's not what my notice says. . . I've purchased books. . . I've arranged daycare. . . I'm already in class! Yes, I've spoken to that department; they were the ones who advised me to contact you. . . we've been over that already. . . "

In the end - it was a minor wrinkle in time - all ironed out. If only the lines etched into her forehead could be handled in the same manner.

Summer nights

2011-09-09T22:00:00.000-07:00

Heard an interesting statistic today: only 14 summer nights left in the season.

Sigh.

A different kettle of fish

2011-09-06T10:14:00.000-07:00

Peppers, tomatoes, and PBS? It's not that far of a stretch :)

Location: My salsa garden - soon to be my salsa kitchen.

Daily Goal: Cook up a double batch.

Trials & Tribulations: Music has always inspired me, and cooking to music? Well - ever since the days when both Mike and I commuted to Kamloops for work, I have concocted in the kitchen to music. Monday's (my day off) would find me married (chained) to the stove. . . cooking all the week's meals in one go, and freezing them to be re-heated using my magic oven timer.

Et voila! Dinner ready to serve the moment we arrived home.

In those days my most inspiring kitchen soundtrack was Tom Jones: The Golden Hits. I'm not sure how inspiring those meals ever tasted, but chopping onion, after onion while Tom belted out "What's New Pussycat!" sure kept me going. This wasn't four meals back-to-back; this was four meals simultaneously. By the time they were headed for the freezer, poor Delilah had been axed every week. My, my, my, Delilah.

Now, a double batch of salsa? Why that's a different kettle of fish. I cannot pick a pepper without holding it to my nose and inhaling the amazing fragrance, penetrating clear through the outer skin. Where are these smells in the produce section of the grocery store?

One glance at that bowl - as it fills to overflowing with vibrant, dramatic colours, smells, and flavours - and my mind leaps to PBS' annual coverage of ballroom dancing. I can conjure up the costumes, the sequins; competitors' heads held high as the announcer proclaims the Latin divisions in no uncertain terms,

"Paso Doble. Music please." (cue this up at the 5:30 interval)

My tomato and pepper-laden bowl is the toreador. I am the cape as I stomp through the yard, chanting,

"DUN, ta-da, dun, dun - DUN, ta-da, dun, dun - DUN ta-da, dun, dun, DUN!"

Successes: Let the dicing and dancing, slicing and stomping begin.

Failures: It's a shame, really. . . I don't even possess a copy of the Paso Doble to blare out over the house (. . . and yard. . . and neighbourhood). C'est la vie. As my salsa is LOADED with Hungarian peppers - I guess the Csárdás will have to do!

And the winners are. . .

2011-09-05T13:51:00.000-07:00

A winning entry for me in the photography competition.

Location: The Fall Fair Hall

Daily Goal: Collect my winning$!

Trials & Tribulations: A few weeks before the fair I blitzed everyone for their Fall Fair Entries (deadlines loomed for fees to be submitted), and sure enough, Becky zapped me a dozen or so pictures.

Egads! I thought. Why do I bother entering at all?

Slightly-competitive me tends to submit 3 pictures in any category I choose - you just never know what the judge will prefer. Becky averages one photo per category, and wins.

Successes: We both earned more than our entry fees - and I'm amazed, because this just a sample of what I was up against:

Landscape Enlargement: Becky - 1st Prize

People Enlargement: Becky - 2nd Prize

Photo - Computer Enhanced: Becky - 1st Prize

Failures:

For Jess (wife. . . mother of two. . . and gearing up to return to university full-time in a few days) to enter any of her photos. Thank GOD!

For EITHER Mike or I to place in the flower arranging competition! Turns out we do better when we choose an obscure category no one else enters :) He had to be satisfied with a 2nd place showing for his Fly Tying entry.

And my winners are:

Personalize a photo album

That's the way the cow pie crumbles

2011-09-04T18:00:00.000-07:00

First time down the giant slide!

Location: 62nd North Thompson Fall Fair & Rodeo; 30ºC.

Daily Goal: Connect with Tessa, Ezra, Jess and Becky at the fair.

Trials & Tribulations: You can see by the look on my face I was a little concerned about making it to the bottom without doing endos. For Tessa it only took once - from that point on she was flying solo; only needed her Grammie to help CLIMB the thing. Turns out coming down is the easy part.

Uncle Chris The Clown made Tessa her own personal "Monkey in a tree" balloon sculpture - there was a bunny to pet - farm animal pens to peek in on - and a bouncy castle to explore.

Ezra was not as impressed with the goings on as his big sister.

(We'll give him another year, yet. )

Successes: Mike and I are pictured holding potato chips on a stick - and. . . Langosh! Both created by the same vendor stand we discovered in Kelowna on Canada Day - and both went great with a beer; which is precisely where we were headed once the kids high-tailed it out of Dodge.

You gotta love random cowboy kid in the bright red shirt and hat. Nice job Jen (who took the picture for us).

Failures: For Tessa to spend longer than a few hours at the fair. No sooner were we "bouncing" around Down On The Farm, Jess announced she was due in Kamloops to help a friend move.

For us to take Tessa into the Agriplex - she spent the whole time asking to, "See cows?" and as soon as they left, Mike and I located the cows in the new building - we were within 30 feet of it the whole time.

C'est la vie; that's the way the cow pie crumbles.

Autumn Splendour

2011-09-02T20:30:00.000-07:00

Mike's vision of "Autumn Splendor"

Location: The gazebo - has been transformed into a florist shop - displays abound.

Daily Goal: Create exhibits from live flowers under the "Autumn Splendor" category.

Trials & Tribulations: The theme for the Fall Fair this year is "Down On The Farm" - so Mike went ahead and built one out of flowers. The rotter. Braced to whip up his annual flower arrangement, it seems his reputation for walking off with prize money precedes him; this year none of the boys stepped up to the plate, which means I have to go up against him! You didn't think I'd let him breeze on in without some competition, did you?

Successes: A container, a cow, and a cold one seems to be all this man needs to get his creative juices flowing.

Failures: For us ever to be on the same page - my version of Autumn Splendor is on the right :) Half-filled with water, we shall now commence the ever-treacherous drive to the hall to deliver our creations.

I sure wouldn't want to be the judge.

Carry on the buses

2011-08-31T09:00:00.000-07:00

It amazes me how many pictures I capture of butterflies,

only to discover, when I enlarge them, how beaten up they are.

Location: The garden in August.

Daily Goal: Create a slideshow to document this summer's garden in full swing.

Trials & Tribulations: I suppose I don't notice the damage to many of the butterflies because neither do they. There is no limping along, they simply carry on the buses, doing what butterflies do.

As with many things found in nature, we could take a lesson from this - no moaning, no groaning - just pick up and carry on, despite what life throws at us.

Successes: It's been a good summer in my garden. Many happy hours have been invested chasing the sprinkler around the yard. Changes, as always, abound. Progress is slow, but sure. No sooner do we get one thing accomplished than our attention is drawn to "that other spot" somewhere else in the yard, crying for attention.

Failures: For me to grasp that the first day of summer is the longest day - and every day following is shorter. . . and shorter. I'm really starting to notice (mourn) the loss of daylight now. Think of the butterflies, June. Think!

Enjoy the slideshow:

Another greeting by Smilebox

Music to my ears

2011-08-30T12:30:00.000-07:00

Tessa discovers the harmonica: music to my ears.

Location: Here, there, and everywhere.

Daily Goal: Embrace the enthusiasm surrounding this new discovery.

Trials & Tribulations:Amazing, what you dig up at the bottom of the colouring bin. Not only did I find this treasure, I now know where all my old pens have gone to die. Gutting out my classic heart-shaped bucket (Thanks, once again, Auntie Jann!) - kicking around since my girls were this age - yielded all manner of pencil crayons, felts, stamps, and crayons, along with elastic bands, paper clips, 3 sharpeners, erasers, dice. . .

Successes: Once she figured out a harmonica will make noise if you breathe in AND out,
the musical interlude was on!

Failures: For this little munchkin to sit still for longer than 30 seconds. I'm amazed I captured a picture of her actually playing the harmonica at all. Here's a sample of the tune I was singing:

"Oh, don't stop, sweetie. Play a little song for Grammie. . . oh, not on the stairs? Okay, the swing it is. . . all done on the swing? Okay. Where are you going? Oh, the chair now. Sure, let's go to the chair. Song's over? That was quick. How 'bout another one? No? All done!"

Perhaps there's a marching band in her future?

No sooner did we call it a wrap, Jen scooped her to run errands downtown, harmonica in tow. I heard she charmed the pants off everyone at the grocery store :)

Pretty maids. . .

2011-08-29T12:37:00.000-07:00

Pretty maids, all in a row.

Location: The kitchen counter - soon to be the cool room, downstairs.

Daily Goal: Label and store the canning, to date.

Trials & Tribulations: Poor Grandma, she spent her visit here eyeing up the (three) batches of apricot jam we concocted the day after she arrived. Finally, she couldn't stand the clutter anymore.

"Are you ever going to put those away, dear?"

To her horror, I answered,

"No. If I put them away, I will forget to give them away."

Putting things away is the bane of my existence. It spills over into all manner of chores, including the unloading the dishwasher, and processing laundry. I will quite happily wash, dry, and fold clothes - and there it stops. They sit in the laundry basket waiting for someone to put them away.

Successes: Pickles, peaches, antipasto, and wine jelly (can't WAIT to try wine jelly!) all made it into the "cool room". You know, that space in my basement that is finally sealed with a new cement wall. For the past months my cool room hasn't been so cool as it was open to the elements.

Failures: For my supply of jars to last as long as my supply of ingredients. Growing a salsa garden has always been a good idea - canning it, however, will be slightly delayed.

Jessica has expressed an interest in batching up her burgeoning garden into salsa this year. Yippee! One daughter down, two to go.

This unwritten understanding came as a bit of a surprise to her.

"Welcome to canning my dear," I said tongue in cheek, "You nurture the garden, fork out funds for all the canning supplies, sweat out the labour - and give it away."

Only if you're lucky - will the empty jars make their way back to you.

I feel pretty. . .

2011-08-27T12:41:00.000-07:00

I feel pretty. . . Oh, so pretty!

It didn't take Tessa long to discover Auntie Lissa's "big girl" shoes.

Lissa sent me this pic, snapped with her Iphone. Whatever did we do when we had to load film and MAIL it away to be processed?

When it's right, it's right.

2011-08-25T08:00:00.000-07:00

The North Thompson Agriplex - ready now for the roof.

Location: The Fall Fair Grounds; Barriere

Daily Goal: Highlight a local success story.

Trials & Tribulations: There are some things in life that just seem to fall into place; when it's right, it's right. The North Thompson Agriplex is one of those projects. Coming under the "if we build it, they will come" category, it was merely an idea penciled on paper less than six months ago. It is definitely a reality now - and for all the right reasons - economic development being only one of them.

Although a huge undertaking, both in sheer scale ($30,000 square feet) and in budget (well over $1/2 million), supporters from all walks of life are jumping on this bandwagon. In the time-span from March to July, $450,000 has been donated to the non-profit organization erecting it, with another estimated $100,000 in-kind donations from both volunteers and business in labour and supplies.

There is a time line involved. One of the reasons to proceed stems from the relocation of the Provincial Winter Fair (PWF) - an event which has been hosted in Kamloops since 1939 (moved from Vancouver during WWII when the army occupied the PNE grounds as a military base). And now we come to the crux of the matter. As in most situations, in the background, politics abound - the more things change, the more they stay the same.

For the PWF, the decision to move to a new venue was an easy one - since the 1970's the event has been held at the now-crumbling KXA facilities. From what I understand they were paying a pretty penny to rent sub-standard facilities. But where to move it to? There will always be those who think to get to Barriere you have to drive off the end of the earth, (we are 60 km - a 40 minute drive from Kamloops). Rumour has it there are nay-sayers on the board of directors at PWF who feel Barriere's too far to go - and their fair will suffer as a result. I'm imagining they've never been to the 62-year-old Fall Fair, when our numbers swell to over 10,000.

This year, use of this fantastic facility has been generously donated to the PWF, free of charge. The powers that be have opted to accept this favour on a one-time-only basis.

How generous of them.

Successes: On budget - and ahead of schedule - the North Thompson Agriplex will be ready for the September long weekend's Fall Fair & Rodeo, with the Provincial Winter Fair slated to take place a few weeks later.

Failures: For the media to realize when they interview certain up-ups at the PWF, they are getting a rather skewed view of the situation. i.e A video-link in Kamloops is being set up "so auction bidders won't have to commute" - attendance will be down (one 4-H group cannot attend, however it is not mentioned whether relocating to Barriere had anything to do with the decision).

The upside is, wet-blanket comments being issued seem to be lighting a fire under the locals here. One person on the Agriplex committee called a Kamloops radio station to issue the cup-half-full version of things, rather than standing by tolerating the PWF's cup-half-empty spin.

Poozie ponders: Perhaps a little opposition is just what the doctor ordered.

Just try it, you might like it

2011-08-24T21:30:00.000-07:00

Kohlrabi: earned a permanent spot in my garden this year.

Location: The last three feet at the end of a row.

Daily Goal: Cook up kohlrabi for the first time, ever.

Trials & Tribulations: When it comes to tasting new foods, I try to keep an open mind. I like the "just try it, you might like it" philosophy, and have discovered over the years, my palate has changed. When I was young, I struggled with blue cheese - and now I love it. I must say though, I can go years between sampling liver and all but once, have I come up with that oh-so-familiar response: immediate revulsion.

Kudos to Grandma's chicken liver dumplings, served up in one of her delicious soups. When she told me what it was I was eating, I couldn't believe it.

"If this is liver, Grandma - I'll have more!"

When I asked her for the recipe and was told she "riced" the liver by forcing it through a sieve with a fork, I gave up. That process sounded way too much like work.

In the spirit of new experiences for my tastebuds, every year Jen and I choose something to experiment with in our vegetable gardens. I must say, our success rate is quite high. There is no rhyme, nor reason as to what we choose. Sometimes it looks inspiring in the Stokes Seed Catalogue - other times it sounds inspiring. This year - we discovered - it tastes inspiring.

In the past, we've tried everything from blue peppers to blue carrots and due to our success rate, space is becoming a premium in the garden. Kohlrabi was one of those intimidating things I'd heard of - even came across a Hungarian recipe or two - and always wondered what it was. I wouldn't have known it if it was staring me in the face at the grocery store.

As grandma toured the garden this year, I leaned on her for advice.

"Have you ever heard of kohlrabi? I don't quite know what to do with it."

"Kohlrabi? I love it!" came the immediate reply.

Well, that was encouraging. A few pointed questions later I'd garnished a recipe and was told to wait until they were each the size of my fist before preparing it.

Toltoot Kalarabe; Marinated tomatoes; Blueberry Meringues

Community dinner #??? (I've lost count).

Successes: It's a hit! The taste is quite mild - kind of like the stem of a broccoli plant. Crunchy and sweet. I peeled them, hollowed them out with a melon baller and stuffed them with ground pork, garlic and fresh dill. The insides were simply left in the dish with some water to bake along with the stuffed portions - leftover stuffing became meatballs nestled among the innards. Just before serving, I thickened the resulting sauce with sour cream and flour. Simple and delicious.

Failures:

To grow more than one meal's worth this year.
For the kohlrabi to have matured when Grandma was visiting.
To have experimented with this veggie YEARS ago.
To calculate just where a whole row will go?

Poozie ponders: perhaps I need a bigger garden?

Get pumped!

2011-08-22T15:06:00.000-07:00

This summer we've had our share of rainbows illuminating the skies above our house.

I'm not sure which sight I prefer - both brought a smile to my face.

Location: The gaping hole; 17ºC; cloudy.

Daily Goal: Get pumped!

Trials & Tribulations: You may recall the blog last May about Mike digging to China , while preparing to repair the foundation at the corner of the house. . . well after months - no years - of waiting, today's the day!

A massive rainbow of cement arched over the yard as the new foundation was poured. The weather cooled off nicely; too hot and cement dries too fast. Rain, I am informed, more than puts a damper on things.

The day was not without its highs and lows. To my horror, when the pumper truck rolled in, I heard Mike groan,

"Oh no."

Oh no?

"I didn't order the BIG pumper truck. I ordered this little thing that you trailer behind a pick-up."

Successes:

It was like drawing that card in Monopoly - Bank Error In Your Favor - we were not charged any more for the super-duper-get-'er-done model. It just happened to be the one that was available.
Aside from the huge sense of relief at having this issue repaired - and being one step closer to filling in this gaping liability of a hole in my yard - the capper on my day was the appearance of Ken, the operator of my rainbow of good fortune.

I don't know why I go weak in the knees for Arnold Schwarzenegger's physique - but I do. Without fail, I do. All visions of Chris Isaak flew out of my head in favour of my latest version of eye candy: my childhood hero, Mighty Mouse. He wasn't small, and sported neither big ears or a big cape, but I couldn't seem to control the urge to attach a soundtrack to this event:

"Here I come to save the day! It's pumper truck guy!"

I no sooner stopped drooling and started snapping pictures (for the blog, of course) when Jen appeared at my side.

"Do you see what we've got here?" I said nudge-nudge wink-winking in the general direction of the pumper truck,

"The cement's arrived!"

By this point every pumped-up muscle Ken, aka Mighty Mouse, possessed was rippling as he manually crimped the end of the huge hose, now primed full of cement.

"I knooooowwww," she drawled under her breath, "I've got the perfect view of all the going's on from my kitchen window and just had to get a closer look."

Failures:

For it to be a hot day. Drying times be damned - if it weren't for the perfect weather, Mighty Mouse might have taken his shirt off :)
For me to have a firm grasp of all the jargon that is bantered about on a construction site. Hence my rather pregnant pause of confusion when Robbie called, first thing this morning, to inquire if Mike got his hands on a vibrator.

"Uhhhh. . . I'll let him answer that question. Mike! Phone's for you!"

Robbie and Mike operate the vibrator (to eliminate air pockets, silly),

while Ken guides the cement pour into the forms.

I've been thinking a lot about you. . .

2011-08-21T23:30:00.000-07:00

Who IS that girl with Chris Isaak?

And why is Larry laughing so hard?

Location: Chris Isaak LIVE @ Mission Hills Winery; Kelowna; on a hot August night.

Daily Goal: Take in an experience Kelly promises will not disappoint.

Trials & Tribulations: Every opportunity she can, Kelly will jump at the chance to see Chris Isaak perform live. And now I know why. To say he and his band were "entertaining" hardly does the evening justice.

To add to his stellar stage presence, we were seated in an outdoor amphitheater tonight, among an intimate 1000 people as the sun set over Okanagan Lake. Fantastic wines and appetizers were available before the show. All manner of fans were there - everything from down-to-earth, to those with their noses in the air.

If you were so inclined (and this blogger is so inclined) the audience was the opener for the show; including many who almost ended up down-to-earth while attempting to negotiate the grass hillside in fake boobs and stilletto heels.

To this performer's credit, he set a very casual tone for the evening. People jumped up to dance in the aisles all night long. I must say, no one in our group escaped my clutches. Mike, Becky, Kelly, and Larry all joined me in a jive or a waltz at one point or another.

Successes:

• Photo ops were limitless - I could get up front and centre, within a few feet of the stage. So close I could almost touch him.

• Yes, that mirrored suit put in an appearance, too.

Failures: For me to decide who was more entertaining, Chris. . . or Kelly!

At one point, he performed "Don't Leave Me On My Own" while mingling with the crowd. He no sooner passed within inches of Kelly, who had been standing close to the stage, when she ran after him, ducked under his arm from behind and began swaying back-and-forth grinning like a Cheshire cat.

He didn't skip a beat, and just when things got comfortable, she was off, ducking into the audience to return to her seat, screaming,

"Yay! I just couldn't resist!"

Just as he was holding his arm out to her, crooning, "If you come back here. . . I'll fix the place up. . . "

The crowd went wild.

Poozie ponders: Perhaps - just this once - Chris Isaak trumped Larry as Kelly's main squeeze.

The song opens, "I've been thinking a lot about you" and that about sums up this evening for me. It's one I'll never forget. The man can't sing a bad song - or a song badly. He was as flawless live as he is on his albums. It was a no-brainer choosing which song to play with the slidewshow:

The last word

2011-08-20T23:00:00.000-07:00

In the war of the menus. . . Dave definitely got the last word.

Location: Our house - is a very, very, very fine house - particularly when family comes to visit.

Daily Goal: Appreciate the effort it takes for Lisa and Dave to ferry their way from Vancouver Island and climb the Coquihala to meet Ezra - for one day. The pair have opted to squeeze in a visit, prior to Mike and I hitting the road for a Chris Isaak concert in Kelowna, tomorrow.

Trials & Tribulations: The weather cooperated - but poor Ezra is still stuck in the throws of colic. Seems he peaks between 6 and 9 PM each day. . . right about the time he arrived for the barbecue.

Successes: As promised, Mike and Dave did make it to the lake to catch fish (cold lunch from bottom drawer of my fridge included).

Failures: For us to coordinate enough concert tickets for all.

Create a digital slideshow

Go with the flow

2011-08-17T22:00:00.000-07:00

Location: Jen's kitchen; mid-August; not as hot as you'd think. . . unlike me, she has air conditioning!

Daily Goal: Blitz the kitchen with mega batches of hand-made perogies - and while we're at it, whip up some basil cubes.

We just had to sample - this is way to much like work to put everything in the freezer for that brisk autumn day.

Trials & Tribulations: I have to give Jen credit - she just goes with the flow (and that's not an easy thing with me in the kitchen). A first-born let's-just-do-it-my-way personality alongside the oh-it'll-all-turn-out-fine baby of her family.

I came fully prepared with my authentic Polish recipe, handed down by Nosky's mother-in-law, and my Perogy Pogy; that wonderful contraption that makes masses of uniform puppies in one go. Of course, the trick is to never use the amount of filling you'd like to see in each one - or they don't seal - but once you get the hang of it, there's row upon row of the little soldiers!

Meanwhile - in Jen's corner - she was whipping up a batch of sour cream and flour and making huge perogies by hand.

"I've heard you can make a nice dough this way, so I thought I'd just give it a whirl."

Give it a whirl? No recipe? By hand? Is she nuts?

Successes: By the end of the day we had four different fillings. Everything from a deluxe basic (onions, 3 kinds of cheese); to a bacon batch; even one with cinnamon and cottage cheese as per Robbie's request.

Heck, with tray upon tray of basil cubes ready for the freezer,
it seemed only natural to create a pesto perogy, too.

Wish I'd learned to just go-with-the-flow a little sooner in the kitchen. Lord knows it's the only way to make basil cubes:

Toss in every good-sized leaf (we had 3 colanders full of green and purple basil), add a whole bulb of garlic and any other herbs that are at hand in the garden (parsley/oregano) and whir in a food processor while slowly adding olive oil. When the mix turns creamy - pour into ice cubes and freeze.

Failures:

• For these cubes to contain pine nuts - a common ingredient for pesto. At $7 for a teenie bag - or $35 for a large, the decision to go-with-the-flow was an easy one.

• For Jen and I to grow enough basil.

I think we have 7 plants or more between us - and there will never be enough cubes in our freezers. How easy can it get? We store all the cubes in a ziploc bag and in the middle of winter we can just pop one of these into. . . well, just about anything - and have that wonderful fragrance fill our kitchens. It takes us right back to our summer garden.

Fresh basil is so potent even watering the plant fills the air with its aroma - and, like almost anything, you can't beat home-grown garlic.

The trick is to save enough to plant for next year :)

Putting the kibosh on the squash

2011-08-15T12:22:00.000-07:00

Who can resist grilled spaghetti squash, saturated in butter & garlic?

Location: Webb's and Lewtas' email inbox.

Daily Goal: Convince Dave he will like green eggs and ham.

Trials & Tribulations: Although I've known the man for the better part of 30 years, I'm beginning to think my brother-in-law, Dave, is a leaning to the "high maintenance" side.

I submit (for your perusal) Exhibits 1-8; sent via e-mail. . .

August 1st - 11:03AM
At our end, the yard looks great - pool is sparkly, flowers in bloom, vegetables bursting from the vine. Barbecued spaghetti squash and fresh, crispy cucumbers await!
Let me know.
Love June

August 1st - 11:09AM
Dave and I would like to come out to your place. Dave really wants to inspect Mike's hole?
Cheers, Lisa

August 2nd - 7:37AM

We would love to have you... although Mike warns, inspection of his hole could be dangerous.
Love, June

August 5th - 6:34PM

June, please don't take this the wrong way but spaghetti squash and cucumbers (NOT). What have you done to poor Mike?
Has poor Mike dug himself a bigger hole?
Dave

August 6th - 10:14PM
Please don't take this the wrong way. . . I will convert you to LOVE spaghetti squash - barbecued, with butter and swimming in garlic. Nummy! Goes great with trout.
June

August 14th - 7:34PM

Dearest June my favorite sister-in-law on my wife's side of the family. We just spent a nice weekend in Victoria. The food there was excellent and it did not, let me repeat, did not include spagetti squash or anything with jevijwebvijwfbvijwebvijwbefwbi cucumber in it. Please confirm by e-mail or fax that this has been changed from the Menu discussed for Aug 19-21st of this year 2011.

Thank you.
Your favorite brother inlaw on anyside of the families,

Love Dave

August 15th - 4:34PM

August 15th - 6:57PM
Apparently the restaurant we have booked in isn’t listening, so I will try and help you out. The following is a much preferred menu. Please follow these guidelines and you will have some very happy patrons. If we have to we can book in with the neighbours.
Yours truly
Mr & Mrs Lewtas
ps Is the Fishing guide lined up yet?

Successes: While I must admit this is a gallant effort to put the kibosh on the squash, I promise - it shall be served up with flair.

Failures: Sam-I-Am doesn't have to eat it, or the cucumbers.

Happy

2011-08-13T20:30:00.000-07:00

Location: Deep inside the very heart of me.

Daily Goal: I have spent the day weeding, mowing, editing photos, blogging, treating Shy to lunch, running errands, cooking dinner, chasing the sprinkler around the yard, watching Neo put a run on the squirrel, even joined Mike for a swim (will wonders never cease?).

Trials & Tribulations: Ever had one of those days? The perfect day. That day when everything comes together and you realize, kind of - out of the blue - that you're happy. Not just content, but happy, in its purest form.

Today was that day.

Sitting in my chaise lounge - that gravity free chair I force myself to sit in once in a blue moon - it hit me, right at that very moment. I am poolside; a glass of wine in my hand (and not just any wine, but Kate and William's Chenin Blanc); with Harry Nilson's mellow "Everybody's Talkin' At Me" drifting over the newly-mowed lawn; the smell of heaven was wafting from the barbecue, filled with garden fresh veggies alongside Thai chicken that has been marinating all day; my lover, slaving away in the Chalet; and in the background, the sweet sound of the sprinkler regenerating the vegetable garden.

It is a hot August night, 26C as the sun sets, and this moment finds me staring up at the paper thin clouds twirling overhead as I reminisce about the rare one-on-one time I have enjoyed with all three daughters. Soon I will have both grandchildren wrapped in my embrace.

It's almost overwhelming. I feel - well - kind of silly. Like crying. Perhaps Kate and Willy shouldn't have drank this wine?

Successes: Everywhere I turn my world is just as I dreamed it would be. Oh, there are worries, and concerns, but I usually look in the mirror and ask myself, have you done everything you can to address these issues?

Yes. Yes, I have.

My man is by my side, my daughters are healthy and happy; my garden is weed-free; I have just spent a glorious two weeks with my grandmother; and anticipate a visit from Lisa and Dave in a few days - my cup overflows.

I agree with Elton, who has just started to sing how wonderful life is. Would I add anything to this equation?

Failures: Where is the kleenex?

Soaking it up

2011-08-09T23:00:00.000-07:00

First stop: Red wine cellar - Mission Hill Family Estate.

Location: Okanagan Wine Country, 32ºC in the stellar sunshine!

Daily Goal: Release the Webb girls on our 1st annual wine tour, to soak up the experience, and each other's company.

Trials & Tribulations: It's one thing to decide we should treat ourselves by combining all our birthday celebrations into one, grand day ~ and quite another to coordinate four schedules. But we did it!

The girls learned a wine tour overlooking Okanagan Lake is quite different from a wine tour at Lake Balaton, in Hungary. To be fair, we were treated to a private tour four years ago; today's was a very public affair.

Today, we were 10, in total, ranging from young twenties, to retired couples, all piled into a van which had air conditioning. . . but as each winery was only a 5 minute drive up the road, our guide opted not to turn it on.

He did inform us at 10 a.m.,

"You will be visiting 4 or 5 vineyards today and tasting more than 20 different wines in under four hours, so pace yourself."

The contrast between Europe and Canada - private vs. public - was illustrated precisely in the pace. In Europe the girls were kept hopping 24-hours a day, until the wine tour. Then things slowed down noticeably as we sampled bottle after bottle, from the vintner's driest to his sweetest, in the cool depths of his cellar.

Just when the girls were begging me to make it stop, the barbecue was fired up.

What a difference between a long, leisurely, five-hour go round at one vineyard - and five vineyards in one go-round. In Kelowna, we were constantly being herded on to the next destination. Clap. Clap. Let's hurry it along, people. Now where are those Webb girls?

Our first stop was our longest; a detailed tour of the largest winery, Mission Hill. Sure enough, our guide came in search of us.

"There you are! I've been looking for you. It's time to go, girls."

My reply was bolstered by the first six samples, inhaled in under 15 minutes, now swirling around in my empty stomach,

"Oh, you'll get used to it," I smiled, "You'll be looking for us all day long."

It was basically, "Down the hatch!"; hold your glass out for the next sample; 10 minutes designated for the gift shop; and, go! In the time it took to open a bottle of wine, our sample was poured and the next bottle was being opened. We were then ushered out to make room for the next group.

In true Webb-fashion (you can dress us up, but good luck taking us anywhere), the video projector broke and in the way of apology for our altered experience, we were offered that sixth sample: an extra-special tasting of $90/bottle ice wine. Poor soul, our guide didn't stand a chance.

We were asked if we were a group of professional photographers. . . and who could blame them, the hardware was out in full force.

Successes: We were served in locations that ranged from a high end Estate with chiming brass bells that rang out every 15 minutes; to a rusty white Quonset with double garage doors;

how about a lively jive - the owner belting out Elvis hits on his guitar while we poured through a tickle trunk for feather boas and plastic, over-sized sun glasses.

At Quail's Gate, we sampled a Chenin Blanc served to newlyweds, Kate and William when they toured Canada on their honeymoon.

Guess which bottle I bought.

Failures: For anyone to purchase pieces by Parisian scupltress, Nathalie Decoster on exhibit at Mission Hill. The Estate's guide casually informed us the metal structures started at $5000 and went up into the 10's of thousands. . . rather than empty purses of 'spare change', these sisters opted to relish in their own sense of culture at Little Straw, a few stops down the road.

"Gather round girls, while I take your picture among the vines."

"Sure, Mom," piped Melissa, "We'll be the art."

A trip down memory lane

2011-08-08T20:00:00.000-07:00

Location: The lighthouse garden; Berg's backyard; 21ºC.

Daily Goal: Take a trip down memory lane.

Trials & Tribulations: Bringing Grandma back to her stomping grounds was only the beginning of my next whirlwind adventure(s). The poor woman was informed yesterday morning as we were heading out,

"Oh, no. You are not going home. I'm taking you to Boundary Bay to squeeze in a visit with Jann and Peter. They will bring you home in a few days."

"Like a package," she replied with a smile, "I am to be 'delivered'."

An overnight at Jann's included a spectacular barbecued salmon dinner - served al fresco among the dahlias with heritage tomatoes and crisp, chilled, fruit-infused white wine.

Sigh.

Just when I thought I couldn't wipe the smile off my face, I jumped in the car, enroute to Kelowna and a much-anticipated wine tour with all three girls, only to make a long-promised pit stop in Surrey. My old stomping grounds on 132nd street were easy to find - as I know this route like the back of my hand.

It's amazing to me, life goes by with all of the best intention to "stop in and say, hi" - and 30 years tick away before I actually do it! That's not to say I don't pass by here often. I do. Kathy and I were hoping for a 132nd street reunion, complete with Bergs, Soboliks, Horvaths, and Lunters - but alas, that didn't come together.

I thank my LUCKY stars, this visit did.

Mary feeds her fish.

Successes:

• The more things change, the more they stay the same.

Let me tell you, not much has changed around this household! Kathy forewarned me, I would be stepping back in time. She wasn't kidding. After reminiscing over tea and muffins in the sun room, we bopped down to the basement. No new decor here. Everything was exactly the same, from the decor, to all the barbie dolls we used to play with, even files of Brownie & Girl Guide record keeping.

Turns out, sibling rivalry is alive and well, too. I no sooner snapped the picture of mother and daughter, above, when Kathy said of her big sister,

"Oh, Karen is going to be so jealous."

It was both awkward to call Mrs. Berg, "Mary" ("I insist," she said), and fascinating to discover she is two years older than my grandmother. She has always been "Kathy's mom" to me. Mary is still an avid gardener, of both flowers and vegetables and a life-long member of her sorority. Turns out these two lovely ladies in my life have a lot in common now; including a love of solitaire and completing both daily & weekly crosswords. I'm beginning to think the latter two are the secrets to retaining a young, alert and vital mind. I hope I have half their joie de vivre when I hit my mid-eighties.

• Even Mr. Berg popped into the garden to for a quick hug and a squeeze.

"Do you know how rare that is?" piped up Kathy, and her mom. "He never does that."

Oh. . . Karen is going to be so jealous!

Failures: For Lisa to heed this sign.

Many moons ago, she was bit, through the gate, by Pal, Berg's resident Golden Shepherd at the time. It was the first thing that came to mind when I realized, everything is the same, except perhaps, how we remember the Bergs.

Lisa might recall butterfly band-aids :)

Fun in the sun

2011-08-05T21:30:00.000-07:00

Location: In the middle of the fray - in the middle of summer; 33ºC.

Daily Goal: Have some fun in the sun.

Let's take a closer peek at the peals of laughter. . . here's a kid BORN with that slip-on-the-banana-peel sense of humour. i.e. Auntie Lissa's pain = my gain.

Trials & Tribulations: To promote pool safety, Jess signed up Tessa for swimming lessons at her local public pool.

Successes: One week later she is shuffling to the edge, holding up her hand in classic Diana Ross & The Supremes fashion, saying slowly,

"Stw-op."

Hand over her brow to shade her eyes, Gilligan takes over, scanning the pool, "Woo-ook."

Eyes on grammie, waiting in the water, she asks, "Is it safe?"

Waiting for the nod of approval, she blurts, "Jump!"

I think it took her all of five minutes to graduate to the diving board.

Mad leaps into the pool lead to my favourite, "Motor boat, motor boat. . . "

Failures: For Tessa to realize, when you play with the bull, you might get the horns.

I can't post without mentioning how fortunate I am to toss my camera at others and say, "There's a Kodak moment! Quick, can you get it for me?" No one can be everywhere at once, and cuddle time with Ezra does not equate to Tessa curbing her full-speed-ahead pace. Thanks to Jess - and Jen - for capturing many of these candid moments.

It's been a slice. . .

2011-08-02T19:00:00.000-07:00

Location: Poolside; 29ºC.

Daily Goal: Spa Day!

Trials & Tribulations: By the time Jen and I (collectively) balanced the cheque book; mowed the lawn; weeded the vegetable garden; ran errands downtown; and put up a double batch of zucchini relish, it was the middle of the afternoon.

That left us just enough time to mix a fru-fru drink and forget about what to cook for dinner.

Successes: Jen and I acknowledged Becky's birthday with a full-fledged fru-fru toast:

"Happy Birthday, Becky!"

It's been a slice (or four, of cucumber)!

Already in fits of giggles over the sheer level of coordination it took to balance my drink, a quickly melting chocolate, and the cucumber slices, I added,

"She'd love this," while frantically waving a cucumber over the sugar-coated rim of my plastic goblet to shoosh away the wasps.

Failures:

For Mike to pick up on the cues.

Head down, deep in concentration, my man was deciphering golf handicaps at the kitchen table while the whistling kettle boiled over. . . the blender whirred up frozen peaches and fresh raspberries. . . and tray upon tray of nail polish, foot balms, creams, sugars, and scrubbies passed under his nose. Heck, even Grandma's Purdy's chocolates made it to the patio, unnoticed.

Even after sending Madi in to slice cucumber (how could we forget our tired eyes?!), he didn't realize something rather out of the ordinary was going on until he came looking for me outside and bumped into dueling deck chairs parked in front bubbling, vibrating foot baths.

"Oh. . . I don't suppose you could help me with something?"

I smiled, and silently tipped my head back to commence balancing the vegetables over my eyes.

He laughed,

"Does that mean you can't hear me anymore?"

For the cucumbers to remain on our eyes at the same time. Cut rather thick, we tried to gnaw away at them to thin them out. It wasn't until we were into our second glass of rum-soaked fru-fru drink that we realized, all we needed to do was nibble around the edges. Who knew?

New look

2011-08-02T08:49:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Becky for sending me this stunning wallpaper :)

She's a natural

2011-08-02T07:00:00.000-07:00

"She's touched so many buttons,

I don't know if I'll ever find that screen again!"

Location: Community Lake; 20ºC; cool and cloudy.

Daily Goal: Smack myself upside the head.

Trials & Tribulations: I can't believe I let July slip by without blogging about our fishing trip to Community Lake. A resounding success, we invited everyone to join us and, well, almost everyone did!

"Congratulations" banner hoisted at Ezra's surprise baby shower.

Successes: There were so many highlights it's hard to choose which to tell you about. It's amazing how much can be fit into a few days - it felt like a lifetime. It created a lifetime of memories, that's for sure.

Failures: For Ezra to catch his first fish, too. Yes, with Papa mentoring her, Tessa caught on in no time. When it comes to water - and being outdoors - she's a natural. Actually, when it comes to buttons, she's as natural as Dennis The Menace; she just can't resist touching any and every one she can lay her hands on (my camera included).

The motor had to be "Off, Papa!" Poor Mike watched the fishing lines sink to the bottom, then tried discreetly to reach in and turn on the electric motor to bring them up - she told him!

When we started out, we gave her 10 minutes of circling the bay, tops, before we thought she'd be bored out of her tree. No sirreee. There was line to pull; reels to crank (forwards and backwards); loons, and ducks, eagles, and fish to spot; people on shore to wave to; there was no end to the fun.

For those who couldn't join us - there's always next year!

The photo album below showcases a few of the highlights. You can pause each page and enlarge any pic you choose :)

Make a scrapbooking design

The perks :)

2011-08-01T22:00:00.000-07:00

The perks :)

The only thing better than fresh ingredients, I mean FRESH... from garden to plate in a matter of moments, is having grandma here to whip them into something special.

One feed of lecso, coming right up!

It made the perfect addition to a community dinner.

• Note there is a picture of a blue pepper that Peter Piper picked from the garden ~ which Grandma refused to include in the pot of Lecso. Oh, she acknowledged it, waving her knife in its direction,

"I don't know this one, so it doesn't go in."

I should have titled this blog "True Blue" - the woman never wavers. Just goes to show, you don't mess with a Hungarian, or her recipes.

• Note the plates are empty, but the wine is poured!

His mother used to vacuum the barn

2011-07-31T12:26:00.000-07:00

His mother used to vacuum the barn.

What else can I say?

It's not all about you, Grandma. . .

2011-07-30T19:04:00.017-07:00

Location: In the shade of the gazebo; 33ºC

Daily Goal: Make paper while the sun shines.

Trials & Tribulations: Making paper is addictive, just ask Grandma. Once she got the hang of it, she took over.

Successes: Page, after page appeared. She wouldn't stop even when I left her side to make more slush to add to the tub (eventually you run out of goop, and have to whir up some more recycled paper in the blender to screen for each page).

Failures: "It won't work," she announced when I returned with a blender full of newly mixed slur.

"Yes, I know," I replied, "you have to be patient and wait for me to mix some more!"

I no sooner stepped in to pour, she elbowed her way back in, dipping and sponging, dipping and sponging.

Finally I had to make my move,

"It's not all about you Grandma. . . I get to have fun, too. Don't you have a crossword to do?"

Taking Grandma for a walk

2011-07-29T21:00:00.000-07:00

"Coming, Tuki?"

Location: On the street where I live.

Daily Goal: Pack up the whole gang and escort Grandma on her daily walk.

Trials & Tribulations: Last year, we discovered something as simple as going for a walk was fraught with all kinds of peril. We had bear sightings; an over-protective fox with a littler of kits; passing vehicles were honking at her - probably because they spotted the bear and she didn't. It was either that, or perhaps her tendency to "drift to the right" put her into the middle of the road. Either way, getting her daily exercise found me saying things like,

"Now, don't go wandering off on me, let me know when you want to leave and I'll be happy to join you!"

This year she has brought summer with her - in full force. After a very cool start here in BC, temps have jumped into the 30's with her arrival. Lounging by the pool is one thing, sweating our way around the block, quite another. Our first gad-about only yielded one deer, bounding across the road behind us. Perfectly harmless.

Ezra meets Uki.

Successes: Along with the arrival of summer (at last), came the arrival of baby Ezra to meet his Uki. Grandma gobbled him up, and with her magic touch, managed to quiet his crying long enough for me to snap these pictures. Sure enough, he turned on the charm. I think the feeling's mutual.

"Good for her!" Grandma piped up when she first learned Jess had a boy, "She ensures a boy for each generation in the family!"

Monkey see, monkey do.

Of course no visit is complete without reconnecting with Tessa - who, for some reason dubbed her great-great-grandmother "Tuki" this visit.

Failures: No amount of, "She's not Tuki, she's Uki!" would correct the new nickname.

Apricots up the ying yang

2011-07-28T19:10:00.012-07:00

Location: Within hugging distance!

Daily Goal: Make sure grandma is settled comfortably.

Trials & Tribulations: Having my grandmother visit is a rare treat I am honoured to enjoy once a year. As it doesn't occur on a regular basis, it takes me a while to become reacquainted with the rhythm of her days. She is very regimented in her diet; I know to stock the fridge with "grandma food" in preparation for her visits, but, for me, the pace of her day takes some getting used to.

Do I entertain her? Engage her in conversation? Occupy every waking moment? Turns out, no. Between making her own breakfast and lunch - pouring over the paper, cover to cover - doing the crossword - playing solitaire - napping poolside - reading - emptying the dishwasher and doing any and all dishes left sitting around, she stays quite busy.

Successes: Hyper-sensitive to her every move, today she wandered into the kitchen, looking kind of, well. . . lost. She just stood there, in the middle of the room, not moving.

"Can I help you, Grandma?" I asked, slightly concerned.

"I need something to do!" she announced sharply.

"By all means!" I beamed, "You can be the sous chef. Here, pit these apricots. Jam it is!"

Oh, she pit them all right. We process not one batch. Not two. Three. Count them, three batches of apricot jam. It took only moments to shake the tree out front of Lissa's house as we passed through Kamloops; bursting with ripe fruit, we quickly filled up numerous grocery bags.

It wasn't until I got home that I realized I had apricots up the ying yang and only needed 3 cups for a batch of jam. I swear I only turned my back for a moment. In the time it took the first batch to come to a full, rolling boil, she had pitted, and pitted, and pitted, with no intention of stopping until every apricot had been processed.

Now I get it. Grandma only knows one speed: full speed ahead. Ask anyone who passes her a plate of dinner. She doesn't wait on anyone. It's down the hatch! By the time I've poured the wine, she's finished.

Failures: Even her responses require some interpretation. Yes, I've known this woman all my life - but am quickly discovering what "lost in translation" means (when we're speaking English, no less). After arguing vehemently over her attempt to repay me for the cost of gas to pick her up, I simply backed down, resigned to the fact curt discussions were not going to set the tone of our visit. I complied, accepted the money and compromised with the knowledge I would simply spend it at the liquor store.

"What kind of wine would you like me to pick up, Grandma?"

"Red."

Well, that was easy. Happily I purchased a box of Shiraz with her funds - 5 bottles for the price of 4, thinking this ought to last us a couple of days at least.

One sip and she made a face,

"I should have told you, Merlot."
- - -
While still trying to recuperate from my first faux pas, I walked away from my wine glass last night at dinner. . . when I returned it had vanished into thin air. After searching in vain (perhaps I moved it?), I was left with the only logical solution. I approached the whirling dervish who had stationed herself (in no uncertain terms) at my kitchen sink.

"Grandma, did you wash my wine glass?"

"Yes, I did, dear, but not before I finished it. Thank you, it was delicious."

Come with me. . .

2011-07-27T07:30:00.000-07:00

Photo album personalized with Smilebox

--- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- --- ---

Oh wait, our visit's not complete till we've strolled through the veggie garden, too:

This digital collage personalized with Smilebox

Thank you, honey. . .

2011-07-26T08:00:00.000-07:00

Location: The local golf course.

Daily Goal: Weed the garden.

Trials & Tribulations: A highlight for me this month was the opportunity to share some rare one-on-one time with my better half. In other words, all thoughts of achieving my daily goal went out the window the day Mike approached me with,

"So! Do you wanna come walk the golf course with me?"

The gardener in me thought, "What? Right now?"

The wife in me said, "What? Right now?"

The golfer replied, "Well, my game's been off lately and it would be nice if you could come and video tape my swing. Then I can analyze what I'm doing wrong."

Successes:

I had wayyyyy too much fun creating this. Did he really think I wouldn't do something with all this fodder?
Reviewing the tape was a huge help, particularly because I can slow down his swing to nano-seconds. Inevitably, we arrived at the end of the tape:

Failures:

For it to take me less than 4.5 hours to create a 45 second clip :)
For Mike to have a video in his possession of me, quoting the same. Never mind, with this blog - I think it's more than implied.

Bonding with baby

2011-07-25T22:00:00.000-07:00

Bonding with baby involves bathing the baby ~

there's no greater one-on-one time.

Unless, of course, you get to feed the baby!

"I hiding!"

2011-07-17T08:00:00.000-07:00

"I hiding!"

Location: My spice cupboard.

Daily Goal: Immerse myself in the world of discovery that surrounds this toddler.

Trials & Tribulations: "I hiding!" quickly becomes, "I touching."

Tessa already lays claim to my Tupperware cupboard. She has free range to "cook" whatever she chooses, with whatever she chooses, so long as it originates from the plethora of plastic containers, lids and all manner of "safe" implements that reside there.

Every other cupboard is out-of-bounds, secured by safety latches. Every other cupboard except (for some odd reason) my spice cupboard.

Successes:

Tessa has mastered the art of unscrewing lids.
Grammie, who can't find anything in that cupboard on a good day, bites her lip and recalls Barbara Coloroso's sage advice - if it's not physically, mentally, or morally threatening, let them do it.

Failures: For me to have this much patience when I was raising children.

How tough could it have been to say, "That's paprika. Where does it go? Can you put it back on the shelf? Thank you. Good job!"

Of course, that only leads to, "That's allum. . . cinnamon. . . rosemary. . .

It's no wonder nothing gets done when my grandchildren are around. I'm too busy joining them, rather than. . . oh, let's say. . . actually cooking the dinner.

Fish for dinner

2011-07-16T12:00:00.000-07:00

Location: Gorman Lake

Daily Goal: Have fish for dinner.

Trials & Tribulations: The pressure's on whenever we head to the lake for a day's fishing and nothing gets taken out for dinner. For me, that's half the fun.

Mike and I do not get out as often as we'd like - it seems "life" interferes with many of our best-laid plans. The fact that we can point our truck in any direction and be fishing within about 20 minutes was one of the draws of moving to the North Thompson. Perhaps, because it doesn't happen half as much as we'd like, we cherish time spent here all the more.

Gorman is not a popular spot for the average recreational fisherman.

A small lake, there's rarely more than 3 boats at any given time; 4 and we consider it crowded. It's surrounded by barren, burnt forest, slow to recuperate from the wildfire of '03. It is free-range cattle country (laden with cow pies), so loading and unloading the boat can prove interesting. But solitude is something we appreciate. A perfect day would be just us and the loons, and quite often that is just how it pans out.

Unfortunately, the loons have figured out when that line sings, it means trout for their dinner, too. It's not just a matter of reeling in a fish anymore. Fish for dinner is between you, the fish, and the loon - and it's anyone's guess as to who will emerge victorious.

I love loons, they're one of my favourite birds, with one of my favourite bird calls, but sitting in a boat with a fish AND a loon on your line is bizarre! You are powerless to do anything about it.

"Nice one! Look at it jump! Tip up. . . don't reel too fast. . . keep tension on that line. . . you can let 'er go if she wants to run. . . uh-oh, here come's the loon. Faster! Get the net!"

Successes: There's a price to pay when choosing a lake that's not easy to access, and I pay it (or my butt cheeks do), every time we negotiate that one section of logging road, oh, maybe 1/2 a kilometer long, that I'd rather wish away.

On the off chance we meet up with someone coming the other way, Mike knows just how to avoid the drop off, while backing up, and winding his way round the corner.

Failures:

For Mike to have the same outlook on "easy" as I do. He has no qualms about bumping into someone where the road narrows to single lane with a mountain on one side and a severe drop off on the other. In 18 years it's only happened to us once. . . and once was enough.
For the other guy to be the one who opted to "throw 'er into reverse".

Water baby

2011-07-15T08:00:00.000-07:00

Location: Anywhere there is access to water :)

Daily Goal: Figure out a successful diversion to wrap up a sprinkler session.

Trials & Tribulations: Once the water's running, there is not much else that can entice this water baby. It certainly doesn't matter how COLD the water is.

Successes: This day, about the only thing Tessa got more of a kick of out than spraying the water, was figuring out how to turn the tap on and off.

"I do it! I do it!"

Failures: For anyone else to jump into the fray.

Me and my shadow

2011-07-10T21:30:00.000-07:00

Backwards Bessie goes exploring.

Location: Grammie & Papa's, First thing, Sunday morning.

Daily Goal: Soak up an unexpected Sunday morning with this curious two-year-old.

Trials & Tribulations: Do we spoil her? Yes, we do!

What Tessa wants, Tessa gets. Oh, most requests are usually harmless and very attainable (and rarely spoil her dinner). She has a mind like a steel trap and has just begun parroting everything she hears, which makes for some interesting conversations. Add to that a lisp (both l's and r's are w's: "I wide it! I wike it") and this toddler keeps us hopping.

Who can resist, "I go swings! Papa swing?"

Not her Papa, that's for sure. If it's you she chooses, there is rarely any swaying her decision to swing with anyone else.

"Okay, sweetie. Let Papa get his coffee first."

With a frantic nod, and a smile the response is,

"Coming Papa? Coming? Papa swing!"

I'm not sure which is more endearing, that willingly, we are at the mercy of every whim. . . or that we are being led down the garden path by someone who is put to bed each night with her pj's on backwards. On purpose.

"It stops her from stripping naked each morning," Jess informed us rather matter-of-factly as we were dressing her after a bedtime bath. I can't quite get over the feeling I'm binding her into a straight jacket every time I say,

"Now, turn around so Grammie can zip you up!"

As the picture above attests, Backwards Bessie cares not a hoot. She wakes up at the crack of a sparrow's fart each morning she visits us and announces,

"I seep good!"

That leaves not much else to do but pipe her full of breakfast, then go exploring to keep the house quiet till Ezra is scheduled to wake up for his feeding.

Successes: We were privy to a milestone this visit when Tessa discovered her shadow.

She was quite taken aback at first and it took some deciphering on our part to see what the apprehension was about. She stopped dead in her tracks and wouldn't move forward. But once she figured out it was going to follow her anywhere, she was fine with it.

"Tessa's shadow! My shadow!"

Failures: For Papa to listen to Grammie when she rolled her eyes and told him you can't teach a two-year-old to pump the swings.

Wouldn't you know it - she figured that out, too.

T is for. . .

2011-07-09T19:00:00.000-07:00

I am varying from my usual, and rather than blog about what is near and dear to me - I am providing a link today.

Why? Because T is for "Touching".

Jessica has started a blog to showcase her photography, and while I intended to report on Tessa and her transition to a "big girl bed" ~ one glimpse at my daughter's poignant post, and I have to acknowledge I couldn't have said it better, myself.

I will provide a teaser ~ my reply to the post:

"Okay... now I have to carry on with my day AFTER I get the lump out of my throat. Beautiful sentiments, Jess. I can't decide just who is growing up before my very eyes - my daughter, or my granddaughter. You make me so proud. I was just thinking I needed to get a shot from you to blog about this transition - but I think I'll opt to link to this post. . . I couldn't have said it any better!
Love, MD (Mommy Dearest)"

Grab a kleenex, and enjoy 'T" is for Transition

"Picking" what I want for dinner

2011-07-08T21:00:00.000-07:00

Location: The veggie garden, Cloudy with some rain; 23ºC.

Daily Goal: Build a spectacular stir fry.

Trials & Tribulations: Having close to a half-acre of yard in gardens means I spend a lot of time weeding.

I tend to attack in sections:

Phase One: the vegetable garden.
Phase Two: the perennial garden.
Phase Three: the mile of marigolds surrounding the pool.

Thrown in the mix are all the potted planters and hanging baskets which I tend to daily, watering and removing dead heads.

Before. . . and after

At times it takes me weeks to complete round one, which usually means I'm just in time to begin again at the vegetable garden. . . perhaps this is why, when I bop downtown to run errands someone inevitably says,

"Oh, it's you! I haven't seen you in ages. Do you still live here?'

Never fails.

Successes: I rarely view weeding as "work". The benefits are both esthetic and tangible. Weed-choked ground hardly yields healthy fruits, flowers, or veggies. They need to breathe! Room to grow! Don't we all?

The rewards are many, and a highlight for me is that first stir fry. I can't wipe the smile off my face as I meander through the rows, "picking" what I want for dinner. The colander above is filled with three kinds of squash (8 ball, padapan, golden dawn), celery, onions, bok choy, radishes, broccoli, and garlic scapes.

Failures: For my husband to pay proper homage to the delectable fare (and the gardener) right under his nose. Poor guy, he's married to that wife who, for most of the summer, will place food in front of him and bait him for the compliment,

"Tastes good, huh? It's from the garden! All of it! Isn't it delicious, crunchy, juicy, crisp, colourful, unique. . ."

"Yes, dear. It's delicious. I'm thirsty, did you pick up wine today?"

When nature calls

2011-07-07T16:36:00.000-07:00

Location: The delphinium; 26ºC in the sunshine.

Daily Goal: Clean the floors (yuk).

Trials & Tribulations: I have set myself my daily "visible" task, but when a beauty like this decides to pay an extended visit, how can I resist?

I have all manner of butterflies pop into my garden on a regular basis, and I always pause and ask myself, "What are the chances it will linger long enough for me to run for my camera?"

Successes: Dropping everything to run for the camera was a good idea. It goes without saying, everything chore-related comes to a complete halt when nature calls.

Failures: For the weather to be cool and raining, for now that I'm out in the garden, that is the only thing that will pull me back into the house to actually get more accomplished (like maybe... the dishes).

Wednesday is spanakopita day!

2011-07-06T16:25:00.026-07:00

Location: Jen's (air-conditioned) house;

outside: 34ºC in the glorious summer sunshine.

Daily Goal: Turn all the fresh spinach into Greek treats: Spanakopita

Trials & Tribulations: Blitzing the kitchen to create a mass batch (7 dozen) of anything, I am reminded of a children's book I used to read to the girls when they were young, called, "Wednesday Is Spaghetti Day"

The premise revolves around the family cat, waiting for the family to disappear from the house to work and school so she can invite all the neighbourhood cats over for a wonderful feast.

In the process she destroys the kitchen while playing baseball with the bread sticks and meatballs; barely avoids discovery; and wraps up the fiasco by reminding her fellow felines, "Tommorow is Mexican Day, Ole! Ole!"

Successes:

Step One: Pick the spinach.

Step Two: Locate the vodka.

Step Three: Roll em', roll em', roll em.

Step Four: Do the Happy Dance while reveling in the end result.

Step Five: Hide them in the deepest pocket of the freezer until Christmas Tree decorating appies are called for. That way we can do July in Christmas - rather than Christmas in July.

Failures: They're SO good. . . there may not be any left come December.

My guilty conscience

2011-07-04T17:00:00.008-07:00

Location: The porch swing; 28ºC

Daily Goal: Diagnose a defrosting issue by gutting the fridge and freezer.

Trials & Tribulations: Although I changed careers with the clear goal in mind that if the school district hired me, I would be fortunate enough to enjoy summers off, I still go through this (brief) period of guilt as I send Mike off to work each day - while I head off to the garden.

I'm finding it takes me at least a week to "unwind"- and unwinding comes in stages. At first I don't know what time it is. Then as the process continues, I know I'm in full summer mode when I don't know what day it is.

To alleviate my guilt, for it is my guilt - Mike does nothing to hint he is going through any such similar stage of resentment - I usually set myself up one rather visible task to accomplish each day. Something tangible that my husband can spot upon his arrival home, so when he (inevitably) says,

"What did you do today?"

I can reply with,

"Oh, the floors," or, "got the cat hair off the curtains... defrosted a freezer... grunged out the Tupperware cupboard... made a double-batch of jam..."

Successes: I not only managed to gut the fridge/freezer today, I also cleaned my oven. What better way to defrost the freezer than to get the temperature inside my kitchen up to 500F on the first day the mercury will climb to over 100F outside?

Failures:

For me to realize, it doesn't matter what time it is, Mike can arrive home unannounced in the middle of the afternoon.
I know I'm feeling guilty when the sound of a truck door sends me FLYING into the house to ditch the evidence of a mid-day fru fru drink. It's okay to be caught with neighbour (and partner in crime) Jen, lounging on the porch swing with my feet up, but somehow, my guilty conscience reasoned, discovering the liqueur bottles littering the counter among stove and fridge paraphernalia might make matters worse.
For me to check whose truck door it was. By the time I was safely ensconced back on the swing (in the nick of time and only a little out of breath), I realized it was Jess, Brett and babies - not Mike at all.

Note to self: Relax! Rather than hide the evidence - offer Mike a drink and say, "Dinner's almost ready, dear. The ingredients are in that cooler over there, and over there, and over there... you just have to put the fridge back together. Oh, and if you want to cook it? The stove is over there, and over there, and over there... you just have to put it back together."

Me, Mike, and Lady Gaga

2011-07-01T23:00:00.000-07:00

Location: Kelowna - on the water front; 22ºC; cloudy.

Daily Goal: Celebrate Canada Day with Becky.

Trials & Tribulations: No rest for the wicked - summer holidays start by jumping in the car and heading out for a road trip!

It was wonderful to spend one-on-one time with daughter #1, who captured everyone's attention once she purchased her new hat. At one point, we were walking home and heard someone shouting, "Hey! Lady Gaga... ya, you!" and it took a few cat calls before Becky realized the girl meant her, "Great hat!"

Flag waving was alive and well - it was everywhere and late night fireworks, coordinated to music, commenced with "Oh Canada". Doesn't get much sweeter.

Successes: My sweetest surprise of the day was discovering the "Elephant Ears" booth. Sporting none other than Hungarian Langosh and Beigli! It's not every day one comes across Hungarian fare; I think there is only one restaurant in all of Vancouver.

I was raised with Langosh, deep-fried bread (yes, pictured above swimming in hot oil) liberally sprinkled with garlic salt and served alongside gulyas (goulash) soup. Mmmmmm, mmmmm!

It's great to see it marketed here in BC in any form. When we were on holidays at a resort region in Hungary, the Langosh stand at Lake Balaton served it up lathered with sour cream and topped with grated cheese.

Failures: For this Hungarian family to put in an appearance at our local North Thompson Fall Fair & Rodeo. Would go great with a beer while watching those cowboys ride the bulls.

I'm finally out

2011-06-29T20:39:00.001-07:00

"I'm finally out"

Location: Last day of elementary school.

Daily Goal: Locate Kleenex, (and/or) survive final assembly with dry eyes.

Trials & Tribulations: The last day of school encompasses a half-day for students at an assembly filled with achievements, accolades, and awards.

As a newbie on the roster, I will not retain the position I've been in for the last six months. Of course I've bonded with many students - and staff - and this final assembly is bittersweet for me. As Mike would attest, it is in my nature to be almost in tears from the opening strands of "Oh, Canada" - regardless of the occasion.

Successes:

There's something about a gymnasium, filled with children and adults on their feet, singing, "This Little Light Of Mine" that cuts right to my heartstrings.
I survived. . . after locating the Kleenex (well, a close facsimile).

Failures: For the Grade 4 teacher I was with for most of my time at this school to get through the festivities dry-eyed. A seasoned veteran to this profession, he is in his mid-fifties and almost retired once, till he discovered he loved it so much, he couldn't walk away quite yet.

At the start of the assembly, he leaned toward me and whispered,

"You're not going to cry, are you?"

"Too late," I replied, holding up my crumpled wad of toilet paper.

Silly man; he jinxed himself.

While presenting an award to a graduating Grade 6 student for inspiring others to achieve great things, he broke down.

I don't think there was a dry eye in the gym. The student was sobbing; he was crying; parents, grandparents and teachers (including the teacher-on-call sitting next to me, who, when I offered to share my "Kleenex" prior to the ceremony, shook her head and smiled politely, "No thanks. I'm quite used to this.") were all wishing they had thought of making that quick trip to the bathroom to abscond some absorbent material.

He admitted to me later,

"In all my years of teaching, I have never done that."

Perhaps it is a testament to just how difficult the year was for this particular school. School closures last year created some interesting situations at this location - many students are from low income families in this neck o' the woods (faced with their own struggles outside of the classroom); I'm guessing 80% of the staff had never worked with each other; add to this a new principal thrown in the mix (who retired today).

Stir it all up, along with the numbers of students who required support workers (one of the highest ratios in the district), and you've got a situation. I think my teacher summed it up best at our wrap-up staff meeting:

"When June arrived in my classroom, the other support worker and I had hit the wall. We were burned out and in came this fresh face, full of vitality. It was like, well, about the only thing I can think to describe it is Vietnam. . . when you hear the helicopters. . . "

Vietnam? My mind jumped to Forest Gump; now there's a soundtrack I wish I could have played.

From my vantage point, it is easy to see why, "This Little Light Of Mine", sung so poignantly in the middle of this particular jungle was my undoing.

Although the picture above (clipped from a large, Grade 2 mural depicting "Kamloops") clearly illustrates the sentiments of most students today, my mad leap into summer is tinged with sadness. I have learned a lot my first year (in this, my chosen profession), particularly from students, as well as teachers and fellow support workers, and I wouldn't trade the experience for anything in the world.

A method to my madness

2011-06-25T22:00:00.000-07:00

Location: Rickie's stunning cake; my backyard;
22ºC in the sunshine!

Daily Goal: Host girlfriend Linda's SURPRISE 50th birthday party.

Trials & Tribulations: There's no better way to whip my house (and yard) into shape than to have a party. When Linda's husband Jamie called to ask if Mike and I were willing to play host - I jumped at the chance.

Successes: What better method to my madness? Mike started jumping all right; worked double-quick to get things done around here. Ah, life is good.

Failures: For Jamie to realize:

our pool's only heat source is the sun. The same finicky sun that has yet to grace us with the even the promise of summer.
if he sets up a pool party - he is committing to giving his wife a pool for her 50th! It's a natural leap. . . and I'm certain, theirs will be heated.

Customize a scrapbook

The mother ship

2011-06-23T07:00:00.001-07:00

Kelly captured Tessa, being swallowed up

by the rhubarb plant in my garden.

Location: The staffroom.

Daily Goal: Pile a generous supply of rhubarb in the middle of the staffroom table and post the following message on the bulletin board:

"Rhubarb! Please help yourself!"

Trials & Tribulations: A teacher entering the room as I was writing saw, "Rhubarb! Please help. . ." and thought I should just leave the note at that.

Successes:

Every stick was claimed.
Years ago, an elderly neighbour asked if he could transplant "a few pieces" into his garden.
He was a very good gardener.

Failures: For his "legacy" to be truly appreciated by the current owner. Sadly, he passed away before (each and every) plant reached maturity. By default, the new guy is faced with half his garden bursting with the beasties.

The other day, he greeted me over the fence.

"Hey there! If you ever need any rhubarb. . . "

"No. thank you," I laughed as I declined and explained to the poor soul,

"I own the mother ship."

Goodbye to the grimalkin

2011-06-18T21:57:00.000-07:00

This free greeting card made with Smilebox

Hi ho, hi ho. . .

2011-06-17T21:42:00.056-07:00

Location: McLure Ferry, Cloudy with sunshine peaking through, high of 19C today.

Daily Goal: Capture the swallows (on film).

Trials & Tribulations: My morning commute now involves the McLure Ferry. It's this or the highway - and both contain their share of risk. The highway is currently under construction to create a passing lane - up to 20 minute delays for weeks on end; and the ferry could be closed due to high water.

Yes, roll your eyes. I do.

The ferry could also be on the "other side" - still posing a delay. But I tell ya - with the pissing match I'm currently in with the Flag Girl From Hell - I'll take the ferry any day!

Pissing match? You ask. . . Me? I know - you can hardly believe it. I'm not known for confrontation - and how could I possibly establish a relationship with a windshield in between us?

Well - when I slow to 60km/hr (the posted speed), I am rewarded with a woman who bobs up and down, sneers, and waves her rather large Stop-sign-on-a-pole frantically at me, gesticulating with her free hand to SLOW DOWN! SLOWER! I SAID SLOW!

The first time it happened, I chuckled and flashed her six fingers up - trying to convey I was doing the posted speed. After the third morning of her hissy fit - I began to drive through with a big smile on my face, purposely avoiding her glance and ignoring all the shenanigans.

Drives her nuts.

One glance in my rear view mirror and I'm rewarded with her whipping her head around and giving me the stare of death, before she turns to the next car and frantically repeats the exercise.

Successes: Using the ferry as my alternate route means I catch a glimpse of the nesting swallows. The ferry has 3 bird houses on board. What a treat! Great conversation with the operator - a two minute commute across a rapidly rising river (about to crest any day), leads to a lovely meandering road through a farming valley. Sigh. Doesn't get much better than this.

Failures:

For someone to complain about Flag Girl From Hell.
For Mike to comprehend why this bothers me. "It makes no sense. Why can't you just let it go?"
For the construction company to install one of those electronic gauges that clocks your speed. Stick it right under her nose! Or better yet, right up her. . . Hi ho, hi ho, its off to work I go!

Getting into the "swing" of things

2011-06-13T19:45:00.034-07:00

Location: Playground at the elementary school.

Daily Goal: Keep one eye open for "behaviours" (i.e. unacceptable behaviours) and, in the interest of maintaining everyone's safety, intervene before they spiral out of control.

Trials & Tribulations: Following is a copy of an email I sent to Kelly:

"Week going great so far... I sat on the one swing today that had been lathered in white glue. Funny - I didn't think it would take the school kids six months to initiate me - but it did!"

Successes:

A student did warn me, "Uhhh, Mrs. Webb. . . I wouldn't sit on that swing if I were you."
The playground is extra clean now. . . I located the sneaky one, who then spent the remainder of her lunch hour on garbage duty.

Failures:

For the warning to come PRIOR to my actually picking that particular swing to sit on.
For the culprit to stick around and get the chuckle out of it she intended to have. She missed the shenanigans. I am known as Mrs. Spider-Webb on the playground, and had to employ my Spidey senses to root her out. Had she been there, chances are, we both would have had a good laugh - because I found it rather funny. What are the odds a supervisor would sit there?
For other students to react the way she did once she was "caught". Not only did she comply with the consequence (with no back talk), at the end of the break she approached me and delivered an impromptu apology.
For me to arrive at school prepared for emergencies such as this. I spent the rest of the lunch hour waiting for the glue on my backside to harden, and sported an interesting backside for the remainder of the day, fielding well-intentioned comments like, "Excuse me, you've got something on your pants. . ."

Basking in the glow

2011-06-11T20:43:00.013-07:00

Location: Outside basking in the glorious sunshine; 24ºC.

Daily Goal: Along with the sunshine, I chose to bask in the glow of time spent with family from far, far away.

Trials & Tribulations: I say "bask" - but I think I only stopped tending gardens long enough to snap these pictures.

One thing leads to another, and moving the gazebo meant the garden beside my patio had to be leveled to create access to its new home. (~ Sigh ~)

Mike sees a three-tiered, weed-baked pile of rubble with a crumbling, ant-infested railway tie border. I see the potential for a stunning display of Nicotiana, Alyssum, and Love Lies Bleeding - all which would have naturally re-seeded themselves and beautifully disguised the decaying ties (and the ants).

Two of my three tiers have been relocated to the farthest corner of the yard, to keep company with my compost pile. What I am left with is a much-reduced pile of gold to work with, for dirt is as precious as gold on this clay and shale covered mountain where I choose to live (and garden).

Everywhere I look, it seems, I am left with piles of dirt crying to be landscaped. A pile in the front yard, another in the back, dare I mention the mound at the side of the house (the remnants of our big, gaping hole has to live somewhere).

It's as if my psyche kicks into high gear:

Must garden.

Must garden now.

Successes: Tessa has no such compunction. After a few moments digging for (in) gold with Gigi, she was quite content to bat her eyes at someone, anyone, who would swing with her.

Failures: For Lissa to have half as much fun as her niece.

"Again! Again!"

The bigger the flip-flop-butterfly feeling in her tummy, the happier Tessa is.

Meanwhile. . . back at the ranch (dip)

2011-06-10T22:28:00.177-07:00

Location: Game 5 found us back at the neighbour's. . . only this time we were graced with Big Papa, Gigi, Grrrreat Auntie Kelly and Uncle Larry!

Daily Goal: Introduce the latest member of the family tree to some of the branches.

Trials & Tribulations: The foursome arrived from the coast just in time for appys and that amazing anthem only Vancouver fans can provide. . . with a little help from an opera singer who knows just how to work the crowd.

We didn't have long to wait when Jess arrived with the baby; Tessa in tow. What followed was my favourite moment of the evening:

- - -
Mike: "There's my grandson. . . "

Kelly (her hand shot up in the air): "Get away from that baby! He's MINE!"
- - -

From the stories I've heard about their childhood, I think Mike's lucky there wasn't a wooden spoon in her hand; she would have beheaded him with it in that one fell swoop!

Gigi and "Big" Papa connect.

To arrive bearing gifts is always a good thing.

Didn't take Tessa long to figure out the Canucks brand. Banging pots and pans was the order of the day when our team wracked up a nail-biting one-nothing win, putting us potentially, one game away from the Stanley Cup - so close we can almost taste it.

"I dip it! I dip it!"

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (dip), Tessa was in her glory, tasting the offerings.

Successes: Braced for behaviour reflecting that of a jealous two-year-old, we are pleasantly surprised she's not vying for attention when Ezra is hogging it all. I guess "chips" trump "brother".

Failures: For one-week-old Ezra to retain his composure

throughout the ordeal.

Actually, in hindsight, I don't think he was complaining about being cuddled. . .

I think his back was to the hockey game.

Geez, with sport defining the Webb branch of the family tree, combined with a baby whose father lives, eats, and breathes it, you'd think we would have had that figured out by now.

7 days old

2011-06-09T19:54:00.006-07:00

Location: The other end of Jess' camera lens.

Daily Goal: Post LONG-awaited pics of our newest gem.

Trials & Tribulations: Now you've got a glimpse into my computer's desktop image. Take your pick - every image Jess captured is adorable.

Successes: You'd never know he's gracing their household with signs of colic.

Failures: For Mike to have experienced "purple crying" (the new, politically correct term for colic) with any of our girls.

Papa is not having a good time of it:

"There MUST be something wrong! Can't we do something? Anything? You can't tell me there isn't something wrong. . . that's pain. Don't tell me there isn't a cure for colic, that's just ridiculous."

18 minutes

2011-06-05T19:38:00.114-07:00

Location: The backyard, 28ºC in the sunshine.

Daily Goal: Relocate the gazebo.

Trials & Tribulations: New grandbaby aside, life quickly returns to normal. Well, in my ankle-bone-connected-to-the-knee-bone life, it returns to SNAFU (Situation Normal All Fouled Up).

Opening the pool can't happen until the gazebo is moved, and moving the gazebo was going quite smoothly. . . until the wheels fell off.

Plan B involved locating a quad and some railway ties to roll it on while bypassing my perennial garden. Gulp.

Plan B worked like a charm.

Which means I must find another solution to my topless porch swing dilemma.

Jen and Robbie have inherited our fabric gazebo - it was easy enough to pick up and walk over to their deck, intact. Unfortunately, it was serving as the temporary shelter for the swing - and be damned if I'm giving them that, too.

Mike took no time to arrive at a solution for shade (was there any doubt?) and has wrapped the frame in a lovely green plastic tarp, all intricately knotted with white nylon rope.

"There ya go! Good as new!"

Poozie muttered: There ya go. . . tacky as Hell.

Note to self: Buy fabric, TOMORROW!

Successes: In 18 years we never used this wonderful wooden gazebo while it was located at the back of our yard. Yet 18 minutes after relocating it poolside, we were serving up a well-deserved community dinner.

Failures:

Why, oh why, am I so resistant to change?
For all the stars to align when the irises surrounding the gazebo at the back of the yard were NOT in full bloom.

Lucky for me , the gazebo's loss is the living room's gain.

Go 'Nucks!

2011-06-04T23:32:00.029-07:00

Location: Next door - just in time for the Canucks game.

Daily Goal:

Pinch that baby!
Root for the home team!

Trials & Tribulations: Tessa is wasting no time teaching her two-day-old brother to cheer for the home team.

"Go 'Nucks!" she pipes out as Vancouver heads into Game Two in the Stanley Cup final against Boston.

- - -
I have to mention: we are over at the neighbour's for two reasons. They are equally as excited to get/give an Ezra squeeze - and our house is not conducive to inviting a crowd in to watching anything on TV.

Upstairs, the TV lives only in our bedroon - and downstairs it is not hooked up to the satellite. June won the "get-that-TV-out-of-my-living-room" argument, and poor Mike suffers (PMS) once again. My guess is his man-cave will be the last renovation this house will undergo.

Poozie ponders: Some might say it's hard to be my friend. . . you should try being married to me.
- - -

Successes: "Finally. I've waited 30 years to have someone in this family who pees like me."

Failures: For Ezra to stay awake for the win -
11 seconds into overtime, no less!

"That's okay, buddy," says his Papa, "I know, cheering for the Canucks can be hard work."

Snug as a bug in a rug

2011-06-03T21:22:00.002-07:00

Snug as a bug in a rug.

Location: Home, at one day old.

Daily Goal: Get out of the hospital as soon as possible.

Trials & Tribulations: Unlike Tessa, who was born a preemie and spent her first 7 days in hospital, it seems like Ezra has spent all of 7 minutes there.

Successes: I stopped in on my way home from work and got my fix.

Failures: For Mike to work in town.

Ready or not, here I come!

2011-06-02T18:09:00.061-07:00

Location: The centre of Jessica's universe:
Royal Inland Hospital, Kamloops.

Daily Goal: Have that baby!

Trials & Tribulations: I got the call at 6 this morning.

"These pains are brutal. Can you come into town and watch Tessa, I'm heading to the hospital (again)."

After more than two weeks of Braxton Hicks and numerous false alarms, Jess was praying against hope that the doctors would tell her she was dilating and ready to deliver. Although she had been warned when this baby was finally ready to put in an appearance the birth would happen fast, she didn't really believe it.

That is exactly what happened.

Although I was present at Tessa's birth (both grandmother's were fortunate to be invited into the delivery room), Jess asked her sisters to be present for this birth. Braced for another false alarm, Mike opted to go to work, while I headed in to town.

Once I arrived, the 2nd call (this time from Lissa) went something like this:

"Becky's not going to make it here on time. If you hurry, you can make it, but you've got to get here before she starts to push!"

That prompted the 3rd call:

"Mike, tell your boss you've got to get your ass into town. . . Tessa's all yours!"

By the time Mike arrived; I circumnavigated the new parking system at the hospital (twice); located the third floor maternity ward; barged through all manner of doors marked "No admittance beyond this point"; and spat out,

"I'm here for Jessica Webb. . . ", I was informed I had missed it by only a few moments.

Successes: It took no time at all to follow the heart-melting cry of a newborn and locate my grandson:

Ezra Joseph Michael Turcotte ~ 7 lbs 15.6 oz ~ 9:55 a.m.

We placed a call to Mike and asked if he wanted to hear his grandson say, "Hello," to his Papa.

"Of course I do. . . wait a minute! Did you say, grandson?"

"Yup. It's a boy!"

"Yippee! Yeeeehawwww! Yahoooooo!"

In a flash he arrived with big sister, Tessa in tow.

After that, we had a hard time peeling him off the ceiling.

Becky got the news via the IPhone - enroute from Kelowna.

We all agree, he was worth the wait.

Out came that baby; out came the cameras!

Get used to it, kid.

Tessa greets her little brother for the first time.

With so many birthdays in the family landing at the beginning of June, we were wondering whose Ezra would pick - and Auntie Jann wins. He passed over Auntie Kelly (yesterday), and didn't wait for his Grammie (5 days from now). Happy Birthday, Jann.

Failures: For Jess to have that "window of opportunity" for an epidural. This go-round, she was that pain-filled voice that carries through every paper-thin wall in the maternity ward, announcing to one and all, "Oh, my GAWD, oh MY GAWD this HURTS!"

Of course (Lissa informed me, later) in between contractions she was apologizing profusely. Then, up would go the hue and cry as the next wave hit.

One peek at the language in the preliminary video and I can only imagine how "blue" the air in the delivery room became.

Poozie Ponders: Perhaps things happen for a reason - and arriving at that magical moment immediately following the delivery was, indeed, a blessing in disguise.

New shades

2011-05-30T18:14:00.011-07:00

Peek-a-boo!

Location: Kamloops.

Daily Goal: Grow a gardener.

Trials & Tribulations: What do you do with a new pair of shades? Don your garden hat and gloves and get to work, of course!

Successes: It didn't take long for little miss I-Do-It! to pull her weight in the garden.

What an adventure. Worms were, "Gwose!" with no intention of ever holding one, no matter how much Grammie cajoled. We filled all manner of buckets with oodles of dirt and fed the weeds to the compost bin. The door to a garden shed held no end of fascination.

"Open. . . Close! Open. . . Close! Grammiiieeee, where are you?"

With no end in sight to this game, I attempted to redirect Tessa (who usually boasts the attention span of a gnat) to the big gray tub where the shovel and trowel were stored. Wouldn't you know it? We discovered sidewalk chalk:

That was the end of gardening.

Tessa-Two-Seconds greets one of her new neighbours through the fence.

"I seep good"

2011-05-29T08:58:00.004-07:00

"I seep good."

Location: Kamloops.

Daily Goal: Soak up some Tessa-time!

Trials & Tribulations: The race was on to complete the garden on Saturday, before Tessa woke up. Lord knows, once she's awake, the world revolves around this two-year-old and her two-second attention span.

Successes: Drinking from a straw means you're old enough for Fru-fru drinks!

Failures: For Tessa to do her share in the garden. . .

Nesting

2011-05-28T20:38:00.004-07:00

Location: Jess' raised bed garden, Kamloops; 18ºC.

Daily Goal: Assist Jess with her "nesting" stage; plant her new garden.

Trials & Tribulations: Why not move when you're 9 month's pregnant? Jess and Brett have found new digs. Downside = property on the market. Upside = less rent due to the looming promise to move (again) if/when it sells.

Lissa and I arrived with plants, gloves, a smattering of gardening implements, and a willingness to get down and get dirty weeding and watering while Tessa napped.

Successes: When starting plants from seed, as I do, there's always some to spare. How can you nurture the little seedlings along only to sacrifice all but an even dozen?

Impossible.

When you plant a row (or a whole packet) of seeds, assuming they won't all "take" - and they do - who has the heart to thin and dump them into the compost pile? Not this girl.

Hence - I justify tending to triple the plants I need because, well. . . some may fail once transplanted; there could be an early frost; bugs; blight; need I mention a granddaughter who knows nothing about walking only in "the rows"?

There's always some to spare, and Jess reaped the benefits. Tomatoes, peppers, pumpkin, strawberries, radishes, corn, cucumber, beans, peas, onions, carrots, broccoli, lettuce, chives, basil, oregano, beets, zucchini, potatoes, even musk melon.

She hardly knew what hit her.

Failures: For Jess to realize it takes 60-90 days for most plants to bear a yield. Her only hope is that it also takes 60-90 days to close the sale on a house.

She may eat from this garden, yet.

Poozie ponders: You know you've raised a product of the 1980's when she shows up dressed like last night's leftover casserole. Liss had prints and patterns everywhere - and neither she, nor the plants, could have cared less.

Just a swingin'

2011-05-21T06:41:00.001-07:00

Location: Our back yard

Daily Goal: Capture Tessa reveling in that butterflies-in-my-tummy feeling.

Trials & Tribulations: It took over a year (for Papa) to set up the swing set handed down from Jason's daughter, Mackenzie, but now that it's done, Tessa can't seem to get enough.

"I swing! Coming?" is the request.

The higher she goes, the happier she is.

Successes: All Tessa had to do was ask. She has her Papa wrapped around her little finger and now can spend all the time she wants just a swingin'.

Failures:

For her Grammie to think of that sooner.
For Jess to have any other option but to keep "hangin' in there" - seems this baby is in no hurry to put in an appearance.

Slightly biased

2011-05-20T06:30:00.001-07:00

I dare you not to smile when you see this picture.

I don't care what kind of a day you are having - this is a pick-me-up if ever there was one. (Does this Grammie sound slightly biased?)

Yes, I take copious amounts of pictures. Yes, among those numbers are copious amounts of this grandchild - yet, every once in a while, one snapshot jumps out at you. No matter who is scrolling through my plethora of pics, out pops the comment,

"Oh, this is a good one."

THIS is the look you get when Tessa gleefully announces your name. Is it any wonder why Auntie Lissa can hardly wait?

Hardly waiting is what we're all doing right about now. . . for this little girl to be a big sister.

Daily call to Jess reveals "SNAFU" (Situation Normal All Fouled Up): Nightly pains means sleep is already becoming a commodity.

Nose to nose

2011-05-19T07:00:00.000-07:00

Location: Nose to nose

Daily Goal: Bathe in the camaraderie.

Trials & Tribulations: It's been a year since Neo wrote home about her new digs and while she has settled in quite nicely, neither Snickles, nor Macska seemed to have picked up on her willingness to "make friends".

That is, until now.

Neo loves to play Tag. Becky's dog, Lilly got the picture. . . but Lilly lives in Kelowna (insert sad face here). Try as she might, every time Neo started to chase one of her new-found friends, either Snickles bolted or Macska bopped her one across the nose.

Successes: Lately, I've noticed Snickles has crossed some imaginary line and finally realizes this is a game! I run, you chase. . . you run, I chase. It's now happening throughout the house and the yard. Funny thing is, although Neo outweighs Snicks by far, it's Snickles who sounds like an elephant as she darts about the hardwood floors, tail straight in the air.

Failures: For Snickles to reciprocate and teach Neo how to hunt.

She may be an elephant in the house, but outside it's Snickles-The-Stealthy who brings home all manner of feathered and furry treasures. Sometimes, they're actually dead. Most of the time, they are not.

Oh, recently, Neo has picked up the gauntlet. Anything fabric is not safe from this cat (socks, garden gloves, underwear [gasp], the dishcloth. . . ). She relocates her current catch to doorways or landings (front, back, garage, any bedroom, even the large gate at the side of the house), then commences a low, low, moan.

There is no particular hunting hour. The moan can be emitted at 2 in the morning, or 2 in the afternoon.

When it first started to happen, I came running, convinced she she was in pain. This is a kitty with an almost cliche, teeny, tiny, "Meow, meow" when she wants to be fed. Where this "MMMRRRRROOOOOWWWW!" has come from, out of the blue, is beyond me. Now I realize she is looking for the pat-pat on the head, delivered with lots of, "Good kitty!" praise.

This comment is inevitably is followed by,

"Now where is my other garden glove?"

Everything grows

2011-05-18T20:56:00.001-07:00

Location: The perennial garden

Daily Goal: Revel in the Spring; the colours, the sounds.

Trials & Tribulations: It seems it takes forever in this neck of the woods for my Spring garden to bloom, particularly if I've taken a trip to the coast, where every bud and blossom is weeks and weeks ahead.

But as with most things, you blink, and there it is! Stunning colours, each petal greeted every morning by birdsong. The hummingbirds are back; robins chasing worms; life's cycle renews once again.

Successes: My garden glows. . . as does Jessica. Everything grows, including that baby, who has decided to remain quite content in its watery world inside mommy's tummy, not yet ready to greet the blossoms, blooms, and birdsong.

Failures: To welcome our new grandchild. I called this morning, asking how her night was,

"I was in pain," came the reply.

It seems every day is quiet - and each night will bring on false labour.

Here we go loop-de-loo!

Bonus!

2011-05-15T09:39:00.003-07:00

Location: The playground; yesterday; 15ºC; cloudy.

Daily Goal: Make the best of the situation (no baby anytime soon. . .) and take Tessa for a jaunt about the playground.

Trials & Tribulations: "I do it!" seemed to be the theme of the afternoon. Buckles, wheels, climbing ladders (gasp), picking flowers, spreading pea gravel from here to Timbuktu, Tessa did it!

Oh, there were boo-boos, all right.

Successes: Grammies can kiss boo-boos better, too.

And a bonus day with the family all together meant Tessa got to spend rare one-on-one time with Auntie Becky yesterday:

Failures:

For me to publish Tessa's giggle on the blog.
For taking a long walk to actually speed up the labour process.

Oh, Tessa had a blast! And I only wish I had looked like Jess from the back when I was expecting my babies. Pregnant? Who's pregnant?

Mind you, who would have known. . . I had babies in the days where maternity wear was purchased at the local Tent And Awning store.

Braxton "Hiccups". . .

2011-05-14T23:07:00.001-07:00

Location: Jess & Brett's, May 14th.

Daily Goal: Greet that baby!

Trials & Tribulations: We were so excited to get the call! Convinced she was going to deliver one month early, like with Tessa, we dropped everything and toodled in to Kamloops only to spend the day waiting. . . and waiting. . . to no avail.

Successes:

False alarm meant we got to spend an unexpected day together as a family - which for me - is always a highlight.
Even Braxton Hiccups is a step in the right direction. Jess has been warned this is nature's way of preparing a mother's body for labour. Those "lucky" enough to experience them have speedy deliveries when the (real) time comes.

Failures: To convince Jess, at this stage of the game, she's the lucky one.

If you knew "Sushi"

2011-05-10T19:13:00.124-07:00

Location: The classroom

Daily Goal: Introduce Grade 4's to sushi.

Trials & Tribulations: One of my favourite times of the day is when I get the opportunity to read aloud to this class of Grade 4's. As attention span can be an issue with some students in this group, the teacher and I opted to test the waters with, "Swindle", by Gordon Kormon.

It went over so well, we moved on to "The Big Wave", by Pearl S. Buck. A story about two children dealing with a tsunami that obliterates a tiny fishing village in Japan. Although this award-winning book was written in the 1940's, it was very apropos considering the events two months ago in Northern Japan.

Successes: We celebrated the end of this story with a tasty treat. I surprised the class with a tray of homemade sushi.

Knowing me, as most of you do, you will appreciate the level of self-discipline it took not to sashay into the room, singing, "If you knew Sushi, like I know Sushi. Oh! Oh! Oh what a treat!"

It's one thing to introduce a novel from the 1940's - but I could hardly expect anyone but the teacher to grasp the ha-ha in a song dating back to the 1920's.

Unsure of the reaction to introducing a new food, (a show of hands revealed a scant few who knew this dish), I was pleasantly surprised to have it inhaled!

Failures: We now move on to "Holes", by Louis Sachar - a gripping story which will have everyone rooting for the underdog. Disney has made a movie adaptation, which prompted the discussion whether the book or the movie version of any story is better.

Personally I always feel the book is better. And. . . as I am the one reading. . . we will pursue the story version.

"Can we have sushi again when this book is over?" came the query.

"Sushi? No. This story takes place in Texas, not Japan. But I promise, I'll bring you a platter of holes when we're done."

Confused looks appeared classroom-wide.

"Holes? Like in swiss cheese?" one boy replied, "How are you going to bring just the holes?"

I smiled - it's moments like these when I draw that imaginary circle around myself and peek in on what is happening, relishing in the going's on, even as they're going on.

"Wait and see."

Tim Hortons here I come.

That big hook

2011-05-08T21:46:00.002-07:00

Location: The Barriere Bandshell, 15ºC, rain or shine.

Daily Goal: Attend (and participate in) the Grand Opening!

Trials & Tribulations: As with any community event in a small town, volunteers pull it all together, and what do volunteers do best? Jump in, wherever needed.

The picture above could be captioned "The View From Here" as I found myself behind the microphone acting in the role of Master of Ceremonies as the First Nation Drummers took centre stage.

"June! Glad you're here. Would you mind filling in for an hour or so? Just sit here, push this button, slide this leaver. . . volume. . . script. Where is that script? Oh, yeah, here it is. Just ignore the scribbles and follow this arrow, things are a little out of order. This act isn't here yet, so don't introduce them - oh, you'll be fine - you always figure it out. . . Thanks SO MUCH, you're a life saver. I'll be right here beside you, fighting with the music. What do you know about computers?"

Rain or shine it was.

In typical Interior fashion, just give it 10 minutes; the weather will change.

Successes: I had the pleasure of introducing Cam, who performed a solo at the piano and dedicated it to his mother (with a little prompting from the MC) on Mother's Day.

Some may think how brave is that? Knowing Cam, I say, what nine-year-old wouldn't want his talents blasted out over the audience with speakers this size?

Last up on the roster was the very new - and very rough around the edges - Barriere Glee Club.

I don't think we had one practice with everyone actually in attendance at the same time.

Even pulling the bandshell together in time for the grand opening ceremonies reminded me of Greece hosting the Summer Olympics. Out front was a pair municipal council members with broom and shovel, cleaning up the walk. Behind us the painter was putting the finishing touches on all the trim work. . . muttering under his breath at his toddler who remained in precarious proximity to the tray of paint, wanting to "help" him. Our choir leaders direction included comments like, "Picture this here. . . and that there. . . oh, it will all be fine tomorrow."

Was I worried? No. I've been involved in enough events to know it's always a sh*t show behind the scenes. The trick is to make it look smooth on the surface, and nine times out of ten, it always looks smooth on the surface.

Failures: For the audience to still be in attendance when it was our turn to entertain. Yes, that's me. . . beside the clown.

There were so many acts that day, I think the entertainment lasted 6 or 8 hours, and not everyone knew when to get off the stage.

Poozie Ponders: Bandshells should all come with that big hook that appears from out of nowhere to drag acts off stage once they've overstayed their welcome.

Needless to say, with the weather, and the time, we performed our not-so-well-rehearsed numbers "Lean On Me" and "We Are The World" in front of oh, maybe, 10 friends and family members.

Most who know me may say, "I didn't know she could sing?"

Who said I could sing?

Perhaps I should have listed the attendance at the end of the day under "Successes". Where was that hook when we needed it?

Digging to China

2011-05-08T08:57:00.067-07:00

Location: The foundation (of our house... not our marriage)

Daily Goal: Expose all the cracks (of our house... not our marriage)

Trials & Tribulations: Why finish one job before you start another? No. No. That is not the way of things in Mike's world. With 2-year-old shed projects hovering in the background, and the pool waiting to be opened, and the gazebo screaming to be relocated, he is now commencing fix-the-foundation.

Successes: We've been waiting 18 years for this particular project to get underway.

Failures:

For the machine to have access to both the side and the back of the house (it is the corner of our home in need of repair). What it couldn't reach, Mike is now digging by hand. Oh, he may fall into bed exhausted at night, but I know, deep in his heart, he's always want to dig a hole to China. What kid didn't?
For my husband to warn me his make-hay-while-the-sun-shines attitude would extend to the garden in my front yard.

When a neighbour showed up to shoot the breeze, and one thing led to another... and before you know it out came the,

"I can do that for you. I'll be here tomorrow with the backhoe."

Mike said,

"Hey! While you're here, how's about ripping out all those ugly junipers under our front window? And oh, yeah! Take a whack at that stupid square thing in the driveway... it's always in my way. You see it? It's the one with the tulips in it."

He couldn't comprehend my rather shocked reaction when I arrived home to find a gaping hole in the side of my house and a decimated front yard.

"What have you done?!"

"Relax. I saved your tulips. They're over there, in that tub. Besides, I'll make you another one. A better one."

Lovely.

Welcome friends

2011-05-02T07:00:00.055-07:00

Location: Outside! In the shade (shade means there is sun!), under the gazebo.

Daily Goal: What better way to wrap up an unexpected day full of progress, than with a community dinner?

Trials & Tribulations: Although emptying fridges to create masterpieces are an ongoing event in our lives, somehow they taste extra-special when served up outside. All winter, and, it seems, most of spring, we anxiously await temperatures warm enough to partake out-of-doors.

Successes: Last night's meal did not disappoint and met the only requirement: Delicious! Have I mentioned how lucky I am to have next door neighbours who are 'foodies'?

Failures: For the cover on my porch swing to have survived the winter. A few years old, now, it has long rips in it where it has worn so thin it cannot even be duct taped together. Upon close inspection, I have decided, if I really put my heart into it, I may be able to take on the task of repairing it myself.

Poozie ponders: When was the last time my mother's sewing machine was put to good use? I'm sure I saw it around here, somewhere.

In the meantime, we have arrived at a temporary solution and have squeezed it under the gazebo cover.

Works for me!