Winter in Canada

It’s January.

Snow at 9 AM;

Expected  5-10 cm of white stuff.

Not as much as last month, but still…

I  even shoveled the driveway.

At Costco

I saw a guy in shorts

WTF!

^^^

I don't get it.

We live in Canada.

It is cold here in the winter

Pretty much all the time!

whatever...

I think I will go see what Monkey Man

is up to on his Sunday 160 today.

for everything, there is a home

Early this fine morning
excitement wakened me
I still had need of coffee,
but planned renos were growing

dashing out the door
my kids dumped hence;
with aunty whence
we to the Ikea store.

We dallied in the bedroom
We doddled down the hall,
but in the office – stall…
For my new desk… there… consume!

$$$

Playing along at G-Man's Friday Flash 55.
I bought a new desk & am creating a new office space for me. Very exciting! Now I will have a work space all my own to plunk away at all my loverly posties. yippee!

Shared Meals

Lobster tails

Oh, yummy reminders from Christmas! Delicious, and all the better for me not having any part in making them. I was spoiled over the holidays with so many wonderful meals being made for me. The one above was Christmas Eve, complete with Prime Rib, mashed potatoes, some other veggie matter and  bottle of Vino to wash it down with complements of my step-brother. Felt like a queen!

You all can probably guess what the next night's dinner was. Yup, the all-powerful image of Christmas and families coming together over the piping hot bird brought forth from the oven; Turkey! I love me some turkey, with all the fixings. Ohh, dressing and mashed potato, cranberry sauce and brussel sprouts, plus my Mom's famous icky orange stuff (carrot, squash mix -always different, but good!). I love it all, especially the camaraderie of family laughing and sharing around the extended table. Plus my dear, sweet aunt made a point of separating parents and children from each other. So yes, I did not have to sweat about whether my dear R ate a bite or not (The best part? hmm). And no, she ate almost nothing, but I didn't have to witness it directly, so it was all good. 

Of course, not everyone loves turkey...

The Carcass

After sweating all day in the kitchen and smelling the turkey roasting away, my aunt is almost loathe to even sit at table with the blessed offering. She tries every year to convince us to cook anything but turkey. No turkey, no family though. We cannot help, but rub it in afterwards though. Mean, but what the heck!

And New Year's just kept that good food coming. We dined on yummy Ecuadorian food at my sister's in-laws, with a little more turkey thrown in for good measure. Midnight came and champagne helped toast in the year to come with glee and bliss. After dancing the night away until the very wee hours, we finally crashed where we dropped. And not a creature was stirring, not even the kids!

My last decadence was the very next day. As dawn came much too soon, energy levels had not a chance of renewal. We managed a meal or two for the sake of the little ones in the house, once we returned to my sister's. By dinner, Chinese was in order though. Ah, Chinese food; the salvation of lazy cooks everywhere! 

So why am I re-hashing all this? Well, food jags are not a new thing in my house. My littlest one gives me a run for my money most nights around the dinner table. Since the holidays have ended though, I have had a bit of a respite. I don't want to speak too quickly and jinx myself, but I think (please!) that maybe she is getting it. I have tried to make meals that have appealed and stuck to my guns on taking food away after 30 minutes. She in turn has been excited to show me an empty plate, or at least not crushed when the timer beats her  and dessert is denied (bribery you say? Why, yes!). I think I have also chilled out a little, what with having helping hands and smiling faces of other adults to carry the load. Bliss!

I think that I will close by putting out the invite to any of you delightful folks that wander through my pages, to please, please, please stop by for a meal or two anytime. I usually have a bottle of wine kicking around somewhere or other, and we love the company! It makes for a better day for us all...

becoming

quiet sleeps 

the house this night

after

songs sung,

food flung,

and patience won

by this humble 

Mama

I am 

becoming.

no strife

fills me,

chills me,

overwhelms

Me.

not tonight.

Worlds spin

around my orb.

I feel,

but sit still

content

to let chaos

be someone else's

baggage.

Don't misunderstand.

I sorrow,

would beg and borrow

that tomorrow

would ease

the wounds

and woes

for all.

turmoil,

so  often

a  bedfellow,

has left the hearth,

left my heart,

left my hurt

and left me 

wondering.

Wondering

how to live,

how to thrive,

how to believe

in myself

and life

when it is all

in mine own hands.

I go forth.

face the day

with clear eyes.

the past behind me,

the future

a glimmer

a piece of

a new day.

~

It is a New Year

and the first Wednesday

that I get to share

with the poets

and friends

of OneShot

Goodbye Arnie

Pietersburg was a town. It had the same amenities you would find in most small-towns in North American; bank, grocery store, gas station. Nothing special. No terribly interesting tourist sites to explore. No handy game parks to scour for ferocious animals. No real reason to go there except for our present one; to sell the van.

We had hit our last stop with Arnie. We crossed the border back into South Africa and travelled to the closest spot to part ways with our last travelling companion. Pietersburg wasn’t far from the border and was big enough to support the potential sale of our van. It wasn't beautiful, but we hoped  it would fill our needs.

 We found a campground on the edge of town and set up camp for the last time. We picked up a few supplies, but were loathe to buy too much, as we would be carrying everything on our backs from here on out. Brett and I packaged and shipped off any souvenirs or other valuables that we wanted to keep, but did not want to schlep around. We needed our camping gear until the van was sold, but it too would go. My sleeping bag would stay with me, but our tent was a luxury that neither of us wanted to carry. It all had to go.

With our possessions thrown out of the van, we drove Arnie to a little carpark that we had heard about. A South African family that was camping across from us had suggested it as a good place to sell the van. Arnie was too old to try to sell to a dealership. Parking the van at the side of the highway with a sign in the window was presented as our best option. It had good potential to be bought and used to transport hordes of people as a local taxi. It seemed a sad fate, after all the love we had pumped into our dear van, but it was time to part ways. We needed the money and that was what Arnie represented now. He would fetch a better penny now too, as the South African family re-wired the ignition system. It would seem that it was not the starter motor at all that caused us to have to push Arnie for the last two months, rather faulty wiring. Within five minutes, they had fixed our ignition woes and installed a new set of spark plugs. No more push starts! Miraculous! It was like being in a brand new van!

“Nevermind,” we told ourselves with sheepish grins. We would now get more money to line our pockets with and memories we could laugh about forever.

A big Thank you! was offered to our new friends. They were a warm hearted lot that you could tell would offer the shirts off their backs. That was, only as long as you were the right colour. We were definitely back in South Africa and the racial tensions were glaringly apparent once again. It was difficult to justify the strong beliefs that were everywhere, but I tried to  just be thankful for the kindnesses of the moment. I could not paint all the people I met with evil brush strokes just because I did not believe in their thought patterns, so I let it go as best I could.

We washed and polished Arnie better than he had ever looked and dropped him off near the highway for his Show and Shine. A box of wine was our reward and final celebration to a remarkable journey. It was also our Easter celebration and we dined like kings on instant noodle soup and tomatoes. The wine and conversation flowed until the thread was lost. At some point, my bladder roused me from a sleep I don’t remember falling into. Crawling out of the tent, I could see the sky beginning to lighten and I knew that it was going to be a long day. I was pretty sure it was not going to be a good one either.

The bright side is that the hangovers that punished us that day served to give us something to do with the idle hours of waiting. Laughter was scant and a painful ordeal, but I didn’t have much mirth as I crawled from shade patch to shade patch with groans or occasionally made the longer trek across the campsite for water. Food might have saved me, but the box of wine that still sloshed a little, offered its accusations by its shockingly empty state. There was plenty good reason for my sour and heaving stomach. No amount of swearing off booze would save that day, but blissfully the sun eventually sank back into the horizon again. I would survive. My prayers and dreams for that night centered on a speedy sale of the van, so that we could leave Pietersburg and its rowdy memories behind.