“Picture if you will, a woman’s birthday...she’s now entered..

“The Seniors Zone”   Egad my best friends are all getting...(gulp) Old!  Ok we all know 65 is the new 40, isn’t it?  But 66?  Yes, more than just a way to get your kicks , (get your kicks, at age sixty six) 

So where does this double digit leave us?  We all get Old Age Pension, most but not all are retired, and we are definitely slowing down.... I mean just try to weed your garden as if you were a spry 40 yr old, And a couple of hours later, its “pass the painkillers” and I’m looking for a lawn chair in the shade.  

Memories of a lusty youth have been replaced by Reality...my boudoir smelling not of roses but of A535....oh how the mighty have fallen.   Or have I?  I mean I have a job which while not making me rich, does have excellent hours, a short commute and outstanding health benefits.  What more can I ask for?  At this age its no longer necessary to acquiesce to every request to volunteer, donate etc...it’s ok to be a bit curmudgeonly yes?  Oh and bonus:  I really like what I do and who (whom?)  I work with.  To quote my hero Shrek ...“really really”!

To my delight, a seriously senior lady asked the other evening if I was “the motorcycle lady” while I was waiting for my take out Chinese.  Not only did this make me grin, but resulted in a long conversation about “current affairs” and inept Federal politicians.  You know me, never one to hesitate a sharing of opinions, but now I have actually been asked for my opinion on stuff.  Its kind of awesome!

So having survived the pandemic, 🦠 and double jabs, a year of wearing a hot sweaty mask, of not being struck by a meteorite or other space debris:  I am content working on the yard, trying my hand at a Victory Garden with a plethora of spuds, tomatoes, carrots and onions 🧄🥕thanks to the support and encouragement of my wonderful Husband.  As we toil under sun and drought in our sensible sun hats and overalls 🧑🏼‍🌾👨🏼‍🌾  we are, as they say, reaping the rewards..  Todays sun warmed tomatoes were heaven. Fresh strawberries for breakfast..a sweet juicy treat.  Ok, 110 hills of potatoes was a bit much, but this means Potatoes for Everyone! Could be worse...could have been zuchinni. 

But where, you may ask, does this leave Biker Marlean?  No tales of highway adventure?   Well this too has been hampered, by old injuries, aches and pains, tight budgets , and the freaking border to the United States being closed!  

Once I would have ranted - now I figure why waste my breath?  Cynical? Disillusioned? Disappointed?  I try to ignore the idiocy, the Democrats, future Commies, mass media and Yoko....we are doing alright. The freezer and pantry are filled, we have a few bottles of decent scotch, bring it on.  We may be old, but we can cook, bakes, preserve, hunt & fish, and camp....beats life in a home listening to top hots of Celine and Shania.  Give me 60’s rock, boogie woogie, the blues, and a shady place to set my butt.  Ah the peace of age...but once that border opens...look out!  Big Mac and I will be on the road again.  Getting our kicks on route 66!

How the yard took over my life?

 As I stagger around my home this morning, the Sunday of Victoria Day (aka May Long) weekend, I squint at the cold sun as I open the curtains.  High overcast, coolish 8C,  perfect weather to toil in the garden.  The image of “what shall I wear” brings flannel shirts, rubber boots, and work gloves to mind.  Coffee brings my brain into gear, and I realize: My home, the entire house, has turned into a Garden Shed. 

Every end table, every surface is covered with garden effluvia.  Dozens of seed catalogues, Old Farmers Almanacs..it continues to the dining room where 30 odd seed packets, a hand cranked seeder, a couple of hand trowels are taking over the space we usually have dinners at.  15 bedding plants, ranging from tomatoes to basil are greeting me from their night in from the frosty elements as they lounge on the dining table.

Onwards to the kitchen, I haul out pans to prep breakfast for hubby and myself.  Eggs poaching, bacon sizzling, I let the cat out and see the sunroom is now...indescribable.  Lol what a far cry from my 20’s, 30’s and 40’s - the May Long as we called this weekend, was about motorcycles.  Seed catalogues, netting, garden tools replace parts catalogues and biker magazines.  The sound of Harleys warming up is replaced by the weed whacker, and lawn mowers.  Oh man, I am getting old!  Lol

Do I miss going on a long weekend ride?  Camping in a tent, or getting a cheap motel for the night, too many beers as we swapped tall tales and occasionally waking to cold wet snow?  Well, as a slightly arthritic 60 something, I admit...the aches from digging beat the exhaustion of a full on May Long 3 day party.  There I said it.

Now, a cold brew at the end of a day digging out endless aggressive raspberry plants, feels awesome!  With hubby beside me from our lawn chairs,we survey the yard:  our new raised garden beds, the abundant bird life, new shoots and trimmed lawn...its bliss!  

Is it hard work? Well the Tylenol and Aspirin bottles on the breakfast table say it is.  Does it hurt?  Oh I’d be lying if I said I could bound out of bed like I was 30.  To me, competitive to the end, its a battle I need to win.  Me against the untended mess which will become a fertile patch full of potatoes, turnips, parsnips.   I will win!  The brilliant green pea shooting out of the earth, makes my heart beat faster.  😁  The eager  twin leaves of radish drawing a bright line me feel like I am winning.  Even my shabby home made compost bin brings me joy.

Do I miss the old days of camping with friends, oh yes at times it is over whelming.  With the Government (a word that I detest, that makes me feel like its a thistle that needs removing) imposing pandemic isolation makes me recall friends, getting together, having fun, all the things Das Fuhrer and his Goose Stepping zombies have deemed Verbodden.  I struggle at times when I see the effect of Pandemic Puke flowing over everything I love, I miss, I need.  As I pick up kleenex and disposable face masks off my lawn it’s obvious things will never ever be normal again.  Ever.  We've become prisoners to the fools the East have given power to.  It makes me feel anger, depression, lonliness.  I am tired of pretending Zoom meetings fill a need for socializing.  It doesn’t.  The thought Police are happily hard at work.  H G Wells was right on the money!  1984 Forever.  

Then I look outside, and all thoughts return to what I will accomplish in my garden today.  Because I realize I can’t rely on a better tomorrow, just on how I manage the here and now.  The shovel and wheel barrow await, my mint needs planting, the seedlings will be netted off this morning (thanks to Mac, Guardian of New Sprouts) the cat will terrorize the blackbirds, and I will smile and hum to myself as I wage war on the raspberry canes. The sun shines through high clouds, and life is good.

In the year 2525.....or was that 2021?

 Do you remember when you were a wee lad or lassie in Grade 1?  Or Great 1 as I recall?  No?  Well I do! Mrs Pauls...the kindest teacher in my one room school; or the smell of Plastiscine?  How about the weird pink rubber tipped glue bottles ...new friends, new skills, books like  Dick and Jane?  “Run Spot, run.”  Ahh yes, descriptive prose that a young prairie kid could commit to memory, forever.  I loved elementary school.  Yes I really did...with a few wonderful teachers, who didn’t yell or get vengeful if I got carried away at recess while climbing trees, or if I just walked home because I missed mom. 

Was I just lucky to live in a small rural village, Where seems people took the saying “it takes a village to raise a child” seriously?  Perhaps not so lucky when your friends mom would punish you both with a swat on the tush, but what about snacks of warm muffins, or a sandwich when hanging out in the yard.  Weak Koolaid. Sitting in the grass picking wild strawberries?   It was bliss.  In those carefree days,  when the biggest problem I  had to face was: could I ride my bike faster than my friends?  Which I could, but occasionally resulted in a gravelly crash!  

Now in my new role as an Education Assistant, working with a young man in Grade 9, then hanging out with grades 1, 2, and 3 I find it’s the remedy for Covid.  To see that what I do actually helps a child learn new things,  to build their confidence, and then make them smile and laugh is keeping me sane.  Filling me with joy and hope.  Best yet, I can act goofy with the Wee ones, make them giggle, sing and dance and feel like a kid again!   Its like a tonic for my soul.  Bliss!

These experiences bring me closer to my Dad, Big Al, the kiddies pal.  A career teacher.  One of the best.  I miss him, and many times find myself wishing I could ask for  advice, or share a success.  I remember dad telling  us how many many years ago he'd take the students outside at the little country schools, where they'd break for an afternoon of playing softball, or a weiner roast...or even go catch gophers! And so I recapture some of that youthful bliss every day hanging with the youngsters.  He’d be proud of me.  So this my dear readers, seems to be where after a long, circuitous route, I am meant to be.  Filled with satisfaction, happiness, sometimes exhaustion but always thankful for the learnings. 

So Covid be damned, tomorrow I am going to school to make a difference.  🤓 

9 months flew by...Sunny Days? Yeah, right. Lol

 Holy moly...it is March!  2121....hang on to your Face masks, this blog could be epic and long! Insert black moody clouds, dire music, time whizes past....

We remain under lockdown.  Under his thumb.  Under orders from Head Quarters....Miss Piggy and Pepe le Peu have been vilified.  Banned. Its all hate speech, rape culture and No-you-don’t.  Cartoons...that is whats evil in society.  Not gangs, legal drugs, pedophiles in power...no, its a puppet of a plump porcine in love with an amphibian.  Good thing the Thought Police can’t get into my head, or I’d  be locked up. As a society, we need to fawn over the wee princess to be, as she crys and unburdens herself to Oprantichrist....ooooh gotta hang on to every word.  Sorry folks, this Ain’t  a bad dream, we are screwed as a society. Yup.

I live in a world where social connections, public gatherings and free choice have been banned.  Forbidden!  Verbodden!    No, free thought, freedom of choice is fine...as long as it fits Das Commandants  agenda.  Commence goose stepping now.  Neighbors are encouraged to rat out other neighbors - Covid death camps make everything safe....don't ask questions, just get out your wallets and comply.  The yellow hoard is wringing their hands with glee, here have a vaccine, no really, it’s safe.  And don’t ask God for help, He's banned from  public Life, schools...pray instead to the new gods of Zuckerberg, Gates, Biden and Soros and their minions.  Personally I have been banned and chastised by friends and family members for supporting the Evil Orange Empire (their words not mine) and guns.  OMG not the G word! a final nail in my coffin?  I confess, I liked Trump!  Lol  you can stop reading now, it wont hurt my feelings, cause I don’t care! Lolol 

Thank the Lord I still see a hope, some light in this dark time.  So far, so good.  I have supportive friends, family and a wonderful spouse.  A job I actually like, with strong leadership.  Food on hand, a safe place to rest my head at night and so far no one is shooting at us.  Oh and two cats who think 0230 is a normal feeding time.  

So thats my story, morning glory.  Back in Alberta, snow and ice are melting, geese are back, i suspect Easter week holds some snow surprise for us, but we have firewood, chocolate and Jamisons and will ride it out. Dreams of returning to Montana to reunite with our friends, just dreams at this point.  As our Tyrants advisor, Yoko-oh-no-you-don’t  holds the key to border crossing.  Nyet yet comrade.  Life has become a Pink Floyd lyric “ok, you’ll feel a little pin prick....there’ll be no more Aaaargh, you may feel a little sick”.

And so hopefully my reality and optimism will return.  In the mean time I reject MSM, the talking heads, and enjoy a glass of wine now and then between house hold chores, and dreams of a garden, sunshine, an occasional motorcycle ride  and who knows....visiting people again?  I have faith in the Lord and his plans for me.  

Hang in there friends, only a few more years of this crap and who knows?  

Is this the summer that wasnt?

So here we are in our home....settling in, getting reacquainted with our life in our wee village.  The house and yard are getting under control, things are being mended and cleaned inside and out.

Strawberries are thriving now that the encroaching raspberries are being cleared back.  A job that will leave scars on your arms!  Some surviving perennials are coming back, with a little tlc and a lot of water!  The veggie garden has been reincarnated, thanks to help from a friend and his rotor tiller.  

Its a good life here in Milo.  Im again part of the book club, err wine club?  A dynamic interesting and downright welcoming loving group of women.  I have asked for and received rhubarb plants, holly hocks and garden seeds, pallets to build a composter, and tires in which to grow potatoes.  People seem genuinely happy to see us back.

So why is the summer such a shit show?  Well Macs experience crashing his new bike was a shocker!  Its out of commission until parts arrive to fix it, and so it sits in the shop 90 minutes away. Reason: parts arent arriving from the east due to covid.

We had planned a couple of weeks in Montana.  Nope, border is closed.  Why?  Covid.  For our own safety.  No one is hiring new staff...yup, Covid.  Cant go to many restaurants..why?  Oh yes, Covid.  Wear a mask...wtf?  Gave in to peer pressure, got a pack of masks, and found out made in freakin China!  Jeez.  And my families reaction?  Oh cry Pandemic.  For our safety.  Oh man, test my patience.  

So, this year which is a big one for me, since I will turn 65 in a few weeks, will be spent at home.  Instead of with our buddies talking about bikes and trips we've been on and are planning....c’est la vie.

I shall garden, enjoy the birds, ignore the ponce in Ottawa, and dream of going for a ride.

Bad knees? Gravel butt? What the hell is happening?!

My body has betrayed me.  Ok so maybe I should have taken a bit better care.  Tried yoga a second time.  Taken fish oil?  Not sure, but after nearly 65 years (I know!  Who’d have thought it!) my knees are kind of shot.  And by “kind of shot” I mean not just sounding like I am stepping on rice krispies when I walk down steps.  I mean from being able to squat down to work in the garden to being...unable!

I am a prairie girl.  Born and raised in the flatlands of Saskatchewan, I learned early that there are and will be times when nature calls, and there are no “little girls rooms” available.  So strategic bushes, deep grass, or even a round bale has been used for privacy when “I gotta pee!”.  

Fast forward to adulthood.  There are times...when traveling by car or motorcycle, when thus has required me to be fast, be brave, and no dilly dallying!  Over the years I have become a speedy “goer”..when nature calls with no facilities in the middle of the prairie.  But as age, my body is starting to protest.  To ignore commands.  To let me down..literally!

Flash back 2 yrs. we left our home in Milo to work in northern BC.  A seemingly reliable renter was found, hubby found a great place to rent, and off we went.  Then this past February our renter was moving out but failed to let us know!  Thats a whole other story....long story short, we quickly realized two homes was more than we could handle, and we opted to return to our house in Alberta.  

The move was on! Household packed, movers loaded, and with Hubby in truck and the cats and I in my wee car,  ready for an 11 hr drive.  First day, last minute packing and cleaning meant a late start, so once it started snowing, we found a motel that took pets, and stopped for the night.  The next day, snow was letting up, some ice here and there....cold, wet.

Wait! I gotta pee!  I called my hubby who pulled over on a wide shoulder.  I pulled up behind, a little further right to provide some privacy.  In my sandals and leggings, I found a good enuff  spot beside the truck.  Positioning myself beside the muffler, I checked for traffic...none.  This was the spot.  But noted as I commenced my “business “ my butt seemed to be sinking lower and lower.  Now keep in mind Id just packed our house up over the past 5 weeks.  Up and down stairs, squatting,
Ifting, reaching...not my normal activity level.  So as I realized to my horror my butt was now way past the optimal lift-and-riseup... I couldn’t stand!  Panic!  Ok, self talk...you can do this...noooo..
🙏 oh God help me lift my ass, Im stuck!  Legs trembling, I tried to boost myself by reaching back onto the wet muddy pickup, no good, Calling for Mac, I was right beside the exhaust.  He couldn't hear me!

By this time traffic was passing, I did not care!  This was serious, no way to stand up..My legs gave out and Plop there I was, bare assed in the wet, gravelly, muddy shoulder.  Nearly in tears, I rolled onto all fours, elevated my bare road dirt covered derrière into the Muddy Camel yoga position, all this with my leggings around my ankles...at this point I seriously did not care who saw me.  Raising myself, I managed to grab the side of our truck and pull myself to the window.  Mac was shocked!  He felt so bad, couldn’t hear me calling, I bravely said Ill be okay, then broke into big loud sobs.  “This is so hard, its just so hard”.....

The realization that I couldn't do what I'd done since I could walk was horrifying!  Humbling, embarrassing, scary!  It had never ever happened before!

Once I got back to my car on shakey legs, I told myself Pull on your gravelly big girls panties, you can do this...then resumed driving with loud sobs, “its so hard, I need help” and prayed my way along the highway for the next 15 minutes.  A few hours later, out of windshield washer, having to Go Again, we pulled into a gas station.   Thankfully this one had a washroom available.  My legs were still shaking, I could feel gravel and stones in my pants..sat down, and when I stood up, the seat was mud and sand!  Finally got cleaned up, wiped off the messy seat, got a pop, and we resumed our treck south.

Its amazing, because of Covid 19 no restaurants or coffee shops were open.  No place for a person to use the washroom.  And man, now I know the value of a clean toilet to a woman over 60 when she has to go!

What am I. And why am I laughing?

0Ahhh mid January,  a new decade, and the urge to blog is upon me.

Well end of November was, as i may or may not have mentioned, was the end of my job. Short of 2 years by 2 weeks.  A shock ...yes.  But at the end it wasn't sad.  I wasn't confused, there was no sense of loss or remorse, it was....dare i say...exciting?  Perhaps I’m a closet ADHD personality?  Dont get me wrong, it was a decent enuff job.  I was usually challenged, but in an environment where any reciprocal challenging was seen as “push back” and the new management style was ..... how you say ... “old school”.  Lol or as I’ve said, my way or the highway.  And so now here I am, unsure of where my next adventure lies.  Or am I?

Lets revisit the situation, from a new point of view:

1.  I want to retire.   Knowing I wont retire rich (unless the Lord decides Yes MsMarlean its time you are a winner) it’s obvious to me a modest lifestyle is in my future.   Ok I can dig that.  I mean I have my health, my darling husband, my cats...oh and a new bike.  And I have pinched pennies and done without before in my life, I can do it again.  
2. Life in the north is a good one.  I mean hubby is employed, and happy.  He enjoys his work, and has an end goal in site, we can manage!  Our pantry and freezer are full, we have at least 8 good bottles of scotch on standby, and are close to my mom and stepdad. 
3. Job options for me are out there!  I have applied for some cool positions I am sure I would enjoy and that would challenge my brain. Gotta keep using it while it lasts right? 😂
4. While I keep looking for work I can collect Employment Insurance. Wont get me a vacation to the Caribbean but keeps me in Hob Nobs and Ice Cream.  
5. Time for art no longer needs to be rationed.  I can paint at the studio when the urge strikes me.  This is important...from a creative and a social standpoint.  My artsy gals are an amazing inspiring group of women!

UPDATED 

THE MOVE IS BEHIND US, we’re in the house, collecting EI, looking at some good options...and the 385 pieces we moved are around 60% unpacked.

Made a new friend with a lady who just sold her house, is going thru health struggles and needs empty boxes and clean newsprint. 

Our friends in Stavely are lifesavers with socially distanced beers and conversations, the local Deputy Danger is a life saver when it comes to moving really heavy stuff...

Had a trucker friend pull his BTrain up in front of the place for a cup of coffee...he was hauling sailboat fuel. Lol love his sense of ha ha....

Villagers are welcoming us back, even with social distancing...I think they are happy to see the back of The Slob and her hounds, many horror stories, so glad we got our house back!  

Attended the bookclub aka wine club meeting on Zoom, so glad to see the gals! I go for the mail just to see people!  I love our little village!

The yard is a shambles, time and effort...we’ll get it together.  Bikes are coming out, inspection booked in two weeks...road trip!

We have guests from the coast booking in come June, mom and Bob are eager to come by and fingers crossed we can go to Montana in July.

John has mastered baking in the bbq until our oven door is fixed....

And Im making tacos and margaritas for dinner!

All in all, we are healthy, happy, and moving forward!