Please come soon spring, please come soon!

Yup. that snowdrift is starting to shrink.  Above the height of the barbeque, it's been out there growing and ebbing, and now the dirty truth of spring is upon us.

Mud coats our vehicles.  Our shoes, the drive, the dirty leftovers of winter - which is grand!! A slow melt means less chance of flooding as the moisture goes into the earth.  Floods we don't need!

With spring comes the usual suspects - March brings St. Patrick's day, a green celebration of all that is or might be Irish - and we did the deed in good style, with new friends and coworkers coming to enjoy the food and drink laid out for the occasion.  Soon Easter will be here, with family and food and reflection on what it means.  Oh and chocolate eggs for the neighbors lads!

So my time is spent recently as a housewife, homemaker, sometimes feeling like the cleaning service and a maid.  My contract is ended, and my employment is sporadic at best.  I have interviewed for some really interesting and challenging jobs in town, but no one has "pulled the trigger" so I await a decision.  A second interview on one today - time will tell, by end of week I should know!

Ambitious me? nooo not a  bit.  I struggle to pile up dishes, load the washer and fold laundry.  It seems the older I get the more I want total me, total down time.  To blog, to watch weird shows on line, to listen to music and cuddle the cats.  The downside? cat hair everwhere, towels unfolded, and counter space filled with stuff that needs attending to! The snow is melting - life goes on!

Out with the old - in with the Weasel?

Say hello to my little friend - Herman the Ermine.  Or Winston the Weasel.  A Short tailed weasel to be exact - who knows how to get into our home!

The sneaky albeit cute  little  bugger made it in how? We thought thru an open door while we loaded groceries into the house - but perhaps not?  Time goes by - it seems there is a deeper mystery in our home!

Ok we live in the countryside - so there are mice and squirrels oh and did I mention we had two moose behind the house a couple o days ago?  But I digress dear reader.  Seems that ermine - the short tailed weasel's winter name with his snowy coat, and black little tip o the tail - are mice's sworn enemy predator!  Now having said that, there is nary a poop, sighting or nest of a mouse in our house.  

Picture if you will, two grey haired and perhaps less than athletic humans, happily asleep on a work night, awakened by a shrill unidentified chirping.  Smoke detector? Nooo, a bird? a Mouse or Bat? No - so after waking the man o the house, the two of us armed with our trusty broom see a white streak running along the base of the wall - it's the Ermine!! 

The sleek little Herman was very vocal in his late night encounter with our two cats - they didn't try to eat him, just were curious and so pursued him and tried to sniff him (perhaps  before tasting?)  Ala "Griswalds Christmas" the varmint was herded to the door and Pop - out he went.  Problem solved! Cats settled into  bed, all was well. 

Now we have become more aware of our furry little neighbor who lives, we think, in the open garage attached to our Shouse.  The odd rustling, the occasional footy prints give him/her away, like the mice who foolishly wander in from the cold. 

Larger neighbors, like the two aforementioned moose, delight us - lots of Mule deer live around here, one was peeping Bambi, the other evening.  How  cool is that! 

Bambi bounced out of our snowy yard, belly deep making its way to the line of trees that run behind our place.  You can see where they land in the snow - big dips. Sort of how a dog navigates deep snow, jumping along and landing in a  snowy belly flop!

Along with the four legged critters, we have a whole "unkindness" of ravens who will in a flash gather and get into the best of bagged garbage, whose vocalizations entertain me and make me think they really are talking about me.

So back to the story - last night as Hubby and I sat down to dinner I heard a loud unmistakable chirping - what the heck?  I got up, hoping the noise came from a new very loud cat toy I had purchased.  There it was, undisturbed. Cats were on guard - staring at "Something"  And  what is looking out at from under our television stand?  Cute little face with shiny beady black eyes?    

 It's Herman!! Under the TV stand.  Chirping at me - the hunt was on!

Again the trusty broom is employed, we worked as a team and briefly routed it out - a 6" white streak who did not want to be caught or shooed outside!  And then - POOF he was gone.  

And so the plot thickens.  There is either a way for Herman to get in and out of our house which we are yet to find OR he's gone to ground waiting for us to go away.  

All rooms have been searched.  No holes have been discovered.  The only possible egress would have to be the water heating system - but that is a slim chance because it's all self contained in the house. Hmmm.  So dinner finished, we settled in for the night.  No sign of our intruder.  If he came out during our slumber, the cats would chase him and he'd make a lot of noise, we'd have to just get up and try again to oust him.

Last night we slept like the dead, not even cats made noise until the 5:30 a.m. meowing went off.  This morning - no sign of our cute little friend.  Sadly tho, we cannot share out house with this overgrown mouse....and so a trapper will come try to get him from the garage where we know he hangs out. Alas poor Herman.  He's likely full and fit after most likely feasting on cat food.  Tho we never have seen him nor signs of him - apparently he knows how to get around.  I personally hope he gets away - moves to a new hidey hole and never comes into our domicile again.  For his own good!

As our neighbor said when he shoveled our truck out of a huge drift in the driveway last week - "Welcome to the Peace Country".  It's a glorious place to live, in a  wonderful warm home with amazing good neighbors who happen to be our landlords.  Neighborlords? Friends is what I'll call them from here on in! 

As I type the snow has stopped, we are  drifted in and waiting to be plowed out so we can get into our work in town. I love it. Who would have thunk it?

37 below zero at Mile Zero...

Oh another twist and turn in our journey of life...on December 1 the big moving truck came and loadedup our life in Alberta and off we moved to Dawson Creek British Columbia.   Wow! 

Let me back the truck up....in early November apparently the Big Guy in the Sky spied on our lives, shook His head and said.."hmmm they are not feeling fulfilled." And so we unknowingly were presented with two new choices. South to Falkland Islands (yes we found two coinciding opportunities) or north to Dawson Creek British Columbia.   After much discussion,  soul searching and deliberation we decided B.C. was the better choice, and so hubby signed a contract with the city of DC (what the cool kids call Dawson Creek) and off he went.

The whole process of packing a big house, garage and finding renters was shall we say, daunting.  But that's another installment. ..whine on!

Dec 1 the big blu and white moving truck pulled up, and our stuff was packed in prep of a delivery date between Dec 4 and 11.  Lots of time to clean the tub, swerp up etc before I had to pack up tge kitties and take the 11 1/2 hour drive to our new home!   And we had a new home...a 2,000 sq ft of living space Shouse.

Hubby had seen a place within our budget, a Shouse or "shop turned into a house" 5 km from DC...the previous home of a young couple who'd lived and raised two young hockey players for 7 years while they built their dream home on the small 150 acre ranch.

Beautifully decorated, fully furnished,  and that included pots and pans and sheets on the bed!  A water heated cement floor, upper mezzanine and three bedrooms in total.  Awesome!   And they'd welcome our kitties!

But last minute John arrived home on the 1st, in time to see the last few items be slid into the truck, packed like a Tetris game!  For me unnerving,
J remained cool.  Ok, pack up tge "unmovable" items, like cleaning supplies and many boxes of liquor...and lers leave at 4 a.m. on Tuesday the 3rd.

"the best laid plans" they say...and at 8:30 a.m. , a mere 4.5 hrs behind schedule, car and truck full to overflowing,  in a now raging snowstorm and the MacArthurs left on slippery roads to our new home.

We awoke in our new home, kingsized bed full of kitties (who were verywell behaved on the drive up) and after a cuppa Mac left for his job.  And to relocate to his corner office I might add. Oh and I haven't mentioned I had already interviewed and been hired at a contract position to start Dec 11?  I think I was kind of in shock to be honest...

As I looked around, trying to imagine how we'd fit all our stuff in, a phone call.  It was Mike the Mover. OMG theyd dtiven direct to DC, was it convenient for them to deliver our stuff today, this morning, the 4th?

Holy Henshit!   By 4:30 they still had not fully unloaded, and I must have looked overwhelmed to say the least, and you couldn't move for boxes and furniture. ...Mike said why dont we come back tomorrow morning and finish then?  I nodded numbly, and sat down.  Where would we put all our stuff? 

But dwar reader, we made it.  Everything was unloaded,  now there remain 7 boxes on the main floor...lets not talk about the office and store room, well start on them this weekend.

DC is a lovely place, super cute downtown with a gigantic Christmas tree at Mile 0, a wicked good meat shop The Butcher Block, a yummy Swiss bakery, as well as all the medium big boc stores you might need!

Our Shouse (shome?) Is warm even in our current -37C weather, we set up 2 big Christmas trees and 2 4' trees, and had a quiet cozy Yuletide.

Tomorrow is New Years Eve, so we'll toast to a great past 3 years in Milo, and oyr friends there, as well as to a new life and new friends to come and old friends to love in 2018.

Happy New Year. ..here's to the journey ahead of us!

and now it's October...what the heck happened to this year?

Woke up this morning...and hey it's halfway through October?? I feel like Rip Van Winkle...the year is just zooming by!  Or blowing by according to the many wind warnings out there - 90 kpm? 130 kpm?? this is ridonculous!

My snow white new 2018 KIA - the plainest of Janes - will do well in the wind as long as two hands on the wheel and no undue speeding! Yes the Vanilla Milkshake has been traded in - 280,000 kms and gasps from the mechanic when he asked how many timing belts I'd replace and I said None.  So since when do you have to spend nearly $900 every 100,000 on a damn belt? I am not impressed.

But, having said that I am happy with the trade in, love the new car, and learning to drive by foot, vs cruise control.  Who doesn't have cruise as a standard option? Well apparently I don't. LOL

As the fall blows in - and it is raging outside - I've been reflecting on what the year has been like.  It's been kind of brutal.  Some really stressful nasty crapola - like my contract being ended early and leaving my beloved co workers who are awesome! Then trying my hand at consulting - wellllll that was an education! Apparently when it comes to Economic Development projects, only the big boys get hired.  Don't believe me? well I have seen proof - and it wasn't pretty.  That and the fact that with the current government there are about 140,000 people who were "thrust back into the work force" and about 139,000 of them bought laptops and became consultants. Where doth that leave me? Well with few contracts, mainly "pity" gigs that made me a wee bit of loot, but nothing to live on.

So being resourceful and tenacious I reentered the workforce with a vengeance, polishing up and modernizing my resume, researching and perfecting my cover letter - and looking for work high and low.  And many many applications going out!  Alas this was a lesson in humility..."sorry, just not a match for our organization", "not what we are looking for at this time" and "the committee felt the other applicant was more aligned to our goals".  These phrases, when put through the translator all come out "you have too many years in your experience" aka long in the tooth.  Too old.  Nope, not the perky 24 yr old with the pony tail image they are looking for. Oh and I wouldn't work for peanuts. Sigh.  I have come through that now - after countless 2nd interviews, road trips, etc etc. I didn't realize how demeaning, how much work, how damaging this could be! I mean "back in the day" a person could just walk out of one job, walk into another.  But alas, those days are past.
I came through it all, thankfully, wiser, and with renewed vigor! Now I am again employed, albeit not ideal it's work. My co workers are great, the drive isn't bad and I get a paycheque! However, a peer of mine, a trusted and valued friend, who has also gone the new job route, said she's had a reflective weekend of "why am I doing this"?  A good question to ask - is it work just to pay bills? Is it work that feeds your soul? Does it leave you feeling accomplished, valued, satisfied? That's a serious consideration - and it have only made me ponder more deeply.

And now you know what I discovered? I am still a desired commodity on the market! Recently I've had some successes, and am certain that the "dream job" is on the horizon. Maybe not for a while - but it's coming! I have faith.   Seems like my adventures in the workforce continue....watch for updates as they develop.

The Ballad of Mr Big. Farewell friend and companion.

Exposing the inner sorrows of my being is not an easy task, and knowing I'm not alone in this doesn't make it any easier.
How do you explain to those who don't bond with a pet that it's like losing a family member? Like losing a best friend and companion?

Oh I have heard "well you'll just get over it, get another pet" or "I'm not a cat person, I can't relate" These are words.  Not healing for my pain, for the loss, for the hole in our home, in our hearts.

We said goodbye on a Sunday evening, when the thunderheads were gathering, when the wind was whipping up for another dry hot weekend...but I am getting ahead of myself.

There was a time when while living on the north west coast of British Columbia I pushed for a pet - we had just purchased a beautiful home, with a big fenced yard, lots of room for a fido to be a part of our family. And not a little fluffy yappy dog, no a "real" dog - with a big solid WOOF of a bark.  And so I optimistically started looking for "the right one".

A rescue dog seemed to fit the bill.  Oh and then I saw it - Barney.  Basset hound mix.  Goofy looking but sturdy.  Off we went - oh yeah a pooch was the answer! We arrived at the shelter, it had a no kill policy so the animals were some times in for the long haul - getting out of the car, we heard a sound. A wild boar? A scared mule? what the heck kind of bark was that???? Horrified we realized it was...Barney!! Yikes!! Pig-dog is the only way I can describe it.  A couple of ear splitting bellows and I said - maybe not for us.  Let's look at the cats.

My plan - which was apparently very fluid - was to just look at the cats in the shelter.  And there were cats aplenty!! Old cats, fluffy cats, scared cats, fat cats, baby cats...a plethora of pussycats!  One beautiful old kitty - Himalayan by it's markings, was sitting in its litter box.  "He is too sad" husband said "he is saying, I'm shit.  No one wants me"  I was almost in tears! We couldn't take them all. It was a bit heart breaking.

Then there was one more we hadn't paid attention to.  A big guy.  Black and white like Sylvester.  Sitting back with a "I could care less if you like me or not, or pet me or talk to me...move along you're bothering me" look.  Until John walked up. Then the big guy got up - put his paw through the wire on the cage and beckoned as if "You, yeah you, c'mere." and that was it.  I said he reminded me of the gangster on the Simpsons.

The cat had chosen John.  Not us. Not me.  Him specifically.  Checking with the shelter staff we found this cat had days before he was considered "Kennelized" and unadoptable due to his long incarceration.  Doomed to life in the shelter.  No kill policy remember.    We talked about it on the drive home, and before we even pulled in the garage were turning around, getting a liter box, food, etc and going back to get our new cat!

Well lemme tell you - this cat - who had a gansta attitude and whom we immediately named Fat Tony aka Mr. Big - and who was estimated to be 5 yrs old and around 20 lbs was a terror!!! Oh he snuggled John, all purring and head butts to the beard, laying on his chest like a perfect pet. I thought yes, we have a new friend.  This however was not to be.

Mr Big it was determined, would be kept in the house for a few days till we felt he knew this was in fact his new home.  Mr Big didn't like this plan.  So on day 3 in his new loving home, he decided that since John was his Alpha - I was his subordinate.  This meant I was fair game in the attack department.

Now if moving to a new city wasn't enough, and a new house....getting attacked and I mean teeth and claws - by a 20 lb cat was more than I could handle!  He nailed me - paws and claws wrapped around my right leg, teeth deep in the side of my knee - and I reacted like the chicken I am and ran!! Slammed the bedroom door - kind of caught his head - but I was in tears!! John said "You better show him who's boss"  and grabbing a rolled up magazine chased that cat all over the house for 15 minutes - slamming and banging on everything near him - but not hitting the cat.  Telling Mr Big the whole time - "She's mine, not yours, you cannot attack my woman".

The start of a some times tense relationship - he knew how to push my buttons, (panic buttons!) and how to badger me into getting his way.

In his old age, Mr Big because much cuddlier.  When husband left for a two week assignment to South America, Mr B was at first - put out! He bit, hissed, scratched...but after three days of "Hey where's my man?" he gave up.  The Ruler of the House must have realized - "hey, "she" is the only one left here - to feed me, give me pets, and change the liter box.  I shouldn't kill her - yet!"  And so the final truce was settled - for those two weeks, the only snuggles the big guy got were on my lap.  I was it.  Wisely, he decided ok I'll be nice to her - and our final stage of love and life commenced.  I did learn to love him - yes there were still the odd hiss and swat, but habits of a lifetime are hard to shake.  He had become - a lovable, placid, house cat.

Then he started to lose some weight - hmmm not like him.  Moved a lot slower.  Stopped eating.  This was NOT like our cat at all!  So off to the vet - a teary trip because he was just SO unhappy about being in the car and I felt I was torturing him.  Poor cat.
The vet took him into the back, and I heard loud yowling and protests.  The test results came in - Mr. B had renal failure.  The vet looked so crestfallen when he told me - he was not happy to announce the impending demise of our much loved pet.

Apparently the high protein food that was increasing his mobility had sped up the ruin of his kidneys - so a new food was recommended.  And amazingly - it worked!  His coat was shiny, he was looking happy and being an active cat again.  Ok he was moving a bit slower, but it was an age thing too right?

 He became a whiz at catching mice - and delivered many presents at my feet - mainly baby field mice and I don't even want to know where he got them from.  He purred and let me rub his head between the ears.  We sat together and read books or watched movies....and his final year was one of peaceful coexistence.  It was a good time of his life, we were all thankful.

We knew it couldn't last - the Vet said with the change of diet he might have a year, two if we were really lucky.  Well a year after the diagnosis, he started to fail - and very fast.  He had trouble walking, and taking the stairs.  He was not happy.  You could tell he felt awful.  Then the morning of my birthday came along - July 9.  John was outside starting the bbq when I heard him call - "He's collapsed" and our sadness started to push at the flood gates.  Our hearts were breaking, it was time.  A call to the Vet, and a quiet sad car trip...and we handed him over after many tearful goodbyes.
Then we waited outside - until we knew - Mr. Big was gone.  Just recalling the day brings tears to my eyes.

We'd lost our friend and companion of 13 years.  The hole in our hearts, in our lives and our home was vast.  And we mourned our loss, at times not even able to look at each other.  He was a good cat.  Mr Big will be missed forever.

Afterwards, when we could talk about it, we decided it was just too hard to lose a pet. So no more.  No pets, no cats, no dogs, no gerbils, birds or fish.  We were done.  I gave all the "cat stuff" away to other cat owning friends, and we resigned ourselves to be pet-less.  Then a friend sent a picture of a kitten. 

Oh no, here we go again. 

To be continued.

Winter Blues, Thoughts of Spring and Crazy Summer Birds

Winter snow coats my deck, the bbq is huddled under it's cover and the cats are hunting for sunbeams.  This describes today in my neighborhood. 

As we headed into mid February, often the coldest month of the prairie winter, I have to stop to reflect on what my year is going to be like.  Is there substance to the old saying that how your year starts is a predictor of how it the year will unfold? Who knows!

January started off with joy, friends, champagne and lots of laughing! So that is a good thing right? How quickly did it devolve into medical appointments and aches and pains - I can't be getting old! I was just young - don't tell me I have arthritis, age spots on my hands and  other such nuisance maladies!

My reality doesn't recognize a  CPP aged woman with a lot of extra "chrome" in her hair.  Which is why my reality chooses to involve a very dear friend who is practised in the art of "beauty enhancement".  I know - she's got an awesome base to work with (tee hee) but seriously I really don't believe I'm getting old.  And I think I can prove my theory of eternal youthfulness - here goes.

I am still fun and everyone knows old people are crotchety and cantankerous.  I mean would like to NOT see stray hairs on my lip, chin and other areas that are not my scalp.  What's with that? No one told me ingrown toenails, reduced digestive powers (read gas) and creaky knees were in the future.

My amply padded derriere should protect me from discomfort on long drives yes? Well not so fast - after an hour on the road, my hips don't want to cooperate, I get a headache from air conditioning in summer, and even heated seats don't sooth my achey breaky bum!  Oh when did this start?

Now I've jumped ahead to July - hot and I mean plus 35 and more for a couple of weeks.  So hot my yard is baked.  Not just an expression - the raspberries baked on the cane! The saskatoon berries turned into raisins.  In what seemed like a day! They just can't compete with the unrelenting sun.

To the north, storms abound, tornado watches are common place, and hail pounds what is left of the crops.  In our village, everyone is sort of droopy like my shrubs - we need rain.  But this heat is what I want to remember in the -20C weather when I'm chipping snow off the drive!

This morning I was giving the eyeball to my now empty strawberry patch (thanks Robins) and the wrens were giving me heck - when I noticed what I thought was a rabbit at first glance.  Nope, a lovely little calico cat, young, obviously pregnant - I said good morning, please don't have your babies in my garden. To which the cat meowed back loudly as if to say "hey I'm hunting here, move along!" Soo she told me!

Yes seasons are progressing as they should, I'm aging as I should - what I forget is past weather, and the fact I'm now a senior.  A young senior but still, when a man came into the office and was asking who the older women with glasses was - I had a shudder and realized Oh Lord he's talking about me.

Perhaps I should embrace this new time of life - say sunset years and you are asking for a smack!

Wait for the signs....why 333??

I notice today as I sit at the keyboard that the time is 3:33 and I'm overcome with a powerful urge to blog.

To write.

To get it out there - perchance to entertain, maybe make you laugh or get a little angry, to go out on a literary limb and produce "something".

My urge to create, to influence, to make people think is strong just now.  I want to work - to share what I have experienced, my knowledge. Target the new and struggling businesses - help show them the way through the jungle of marketing, of working, overcome challenges and exceed all customer expectations!

What does it all mean? Really is it a sign at all.I mentioned the time 3:33. It's the time I see most often when I wake up in the middle of the night.

I procrastinated - didn't post the blog when I was composing it - but the 3:33 remains! I woke again - what the heck was keeping me up? Brain gets rushing along - I think myself into insomnia some times.

And now? Ok time change, it's weeks later at 2:03 - organizing my thoughts to how I can continue to create, entertain, perhaps educate?  Time for some fresh air - and get my self back on track.

What's that light - the train?? LOL