taste and glory in each day

I woke up with ants in my pants and had to get out. Crazy as I’ve been out of the house every day this week, including a sleep-over. So I had a coffee, did up my insane hair, put on a slash of lipstick, and off we went - into town for Pho and a wander through the shopping mall.

We weren’t shopping for anything, it’s just a good place to get steps in when there is no where else to walk. But gosh, our sheets are getting tattered so we took a look-see at the Bay. They had linen cotton blend ones on a huge markdown. Then we passed a store filled with fleece-lined patterned leggings all marked down to $10. Could I pass them by? No. Then a wine aerator also marked down at another store.

We bee-lined it back to the car after that before our wallets were worn out!

In the mall we passed a guy with what looked like a great dane mix with a service dog in training vest - by the looks of it he had a long way to go! No loose leash walking for that dog.

Also in the mall, we were in a cheezie poster store looking at a painting of Jesus with rays of light coming out of his chest. A girl walked by and let us know that she has that painting in her living room and that the rays of light were from his sacred heart. Okay. I first thought she was joking but no - dead serious. 

The day started with glorious sun (which may explain my energy when I got up), but the clouds seemed to appear out of nowhere and obliterated the sun. Grey sky, icy laneway, cold. In other words, winter.

not acting my age

Do you have in your mind a certain way someone should act once they get to a particular age? You know, dress your age, act your age, and my favorite ‘mutton dressed up like a lamb’? I find those ideas repugnant and don’t ever intend on ‘acting my age’, unless it means to be myself and not worry about what others think. 

There is a freedom of spirit once you get past those painful years of self-conscious worry, and a sort of peace in knowing that a mean strangers judgement can’t touch you and doesn’t have to change the way you think and feel about yourself.

I’ve been having a discussion with a few people on the Princess facebook forum about service dogs. They are loath to use facts and instead rely on ‘what they think’... one of them blew me off when I asked her if she had asked the person in question if the small dog was a service dog or a dreaded comfort dog. She was done with the conversation when I suggested that she was making assumptions without fact. I can probably guess who she voted for... you know, facts and all. There are times when this would have really upset me, causing loads of anxiety, but today I am strong. (could it be that I’m channeling Lucielle Ball?)

“I want to taste and glory in each day, and never be afraid to experience pain; and never shut myself up in a numb core of nonfeeling, or stop questioning and criticizing life and take the easy way out. To learn and think: to think and live; to live and learn: this always, with new insight, new understanding, and new love.”

~Sylvia Plath

what was I thinking?

It seemed like a good idea, after all, I’m trying to be more me with a bit of zany thrown in… so, I picked up a box of PERMANENT pink hair dye. You know, the kind that doesn’t wash out in a few days… This afternoon I got busy with the bottles of slightly scary and stinky stuff, smearing it in my hair, waiting for the appropriate length of time (although in retrospect it might have taken longer to get the timer set than was ideal), and finally washing it out and applying the final conditioner.

Step out of the shower. Try not to look in the giant mirror until hair is a bit puffed up from the  towel and I had my glasses on. Gasp! According to my colour wheel, there is not much orange in pink… not so on my head. I am now sport a slightly bright orangy pink head of hair. Oh boy…

PERMANENT!

Carm says it doesn’t look too bad, but honestly, what else could he say without sending me twirling into a hysterical freak out!

before hair fiasco with awesome coat

I was hoping for the same colour as the box, which would have been a lovely match to the awesome blush pink coat that I got yesterday for an incredible deal.

carrot top

Aside from this fiasco I’ve had a great last few days. Tuesday we visited Don in the hospital - it was great to see him looking so well. From there Carm dropped my off at the cardiac vet that Kirsten was taking Atlas to - now confirmed with DCM, most likely genetic. Vet recommended food with no peas, lentils, or potatoes in the first 5 ingredients. 

I was glad to go home with them during this difficult time. Hopefully the girls, especially Shenna, were able to take their mind off things for a bit as we hoo hawed around.

In the morning over coffee we all relaxed with face masks - it was hard not to laugh or smile! We laughed at some of our favorite doll stories with the most hilarity over the severed head Christmas decorations that Mom gave us one year!

We met up with Carm for lunch and then C&I headed home so Adia would get a bit of practice before school. The class went well, although she was a bit ADD - I blame it on being away from home for two days. The bonus was that a spot for the next session opened up so we are signed up for another 6 weeks after the current session.

This morning I packaged up 5kg of hearts, including drying some in the microwave. Carm can’t stand the smell of cooking heart (and I’ll admit it’s a big gross smelling), so he carried the microwave down to the basement to banish the smelly task.

Then we drove to Winchester to the PetValu for a bag of Stella & Chewy’s ancient grain food. I’ve mixed it in with the Acana until we run out. Eventually we’ll feed S&C along with raw meat. I think it will be a good compromise.

“I believe in pink. I believe that laughing is the best calorie burner. I believe in kissing, kissing a lot. I believe in being strong when everything seems to be going wrong. I believe that happy girls are the prettiest girls. I believe that tomorrow is another day and I believe in miracles.”

~Audrey Hepburn

paranoia

Last weekend’s storm wasn’t as stormy as was predicted, starting later in the day and petering out overnight. Carm was able to get into the city to return Adia’s new toy - destroyed in less than 5 minutes :-(  He got her another type but didn’t notice that it was a fetch toy… it’s got a few holes but will still be good for outside this spring. 

He also did a quick (is that even possible?) stop at Costco to stock up on a few essentials. I don’t want to get caught up in the paranoia about the Coronavirus, but figured having things to tide us over if we didn’t want to venture into crowded Costco wouldn't be too paranoid, it would just be me pretending to be a boy scout. Or is it? I know that I have to keep away from reading news articles and worse still all the crazy comments…

Speaking of paranoia… Kirsten’s dog Atlas is having some health difficulties which are suspected to be DCM (dilated cardiomyopathy) - we’ll find out tomorrow. I don’t know if you’ve seen the articles on the internet about the possible link between grain free foods and DCM. Much of it is speculation based on very little fact - it’s not conclusive by any means, no meaningful studies have been done and tens of millions of dogs are eating this food with no heart impact. The relationship is a correlation rather than causation. But it’s had me studying food labels. 

Intellectually, I know the odds of my dogs having an issue is small, but my emotions are making me change their food to something without peas, lentils, or potatoes. Do you know how hard it is to find something decent without those ingredients? I will NOT feed a food whose first ingredient is corn or wheat!

No one knows what amount of these ingredients may cause a problem. The kibble that we are currently feeding is at the top of the ‘bad’ list, but is it okay to feed the premium raw-coated grain free kibble as a treat? Can Spike continue to have the kibble that’s based on green tripe with some peas and lentils? Is even a trace too much? Or is it a case of ‘in moderation’? None of this is known.

(Spike’s kibble is PetKind Green tripe - Beef tripe, beef, chicken, peas, chicken meal, turkey meal, pea starch, pea protein, chicken fat (preserved with mixed tocopherols), lentils, flaxseed, natural flavor, quinoa, pumpkin, spinach, carrot, broccoli, cranberry, apple, blueberry, banana, ...)

(for training treats we use stella & chewy’s raw coated kibble - Chicken, chicken meal, peas, lentils, chicken fat (preserved with mixed tocopherols), chicken liver, chicken heart, natural chicken flavor, salmon oil, suncured alfalfa, chicken gizzard, fenugreek seed, flaxseed, coconut oil, …)

(this is what I might switch to for their daily meal when they aren’t having raw meat: stella & chewy’s ancient grain - Chicken, chicken meal, pearled barley, oatmeal, chicken fat (preserved with mixed tocopherols), brown rice, natural chicken flavor, tomato pomace, flaxseed, millet, chicken liver, quinoa, …) I’m not loving that it has quinoa though.

Adia’s training is still going well - we find that she’s even getting better with everyday things. The training for ‘mat’ is transitioning to wait at the door and ‘out of the kitchen’. I’m trying to get her outside for some loose leash walking, but now the laneway is 2” deep in slush - not the ideal conditions unless one is wearing huge rubber farm boots. It is amazing how one little piece of hotdog on the ground can be such a big distraction!

I’ve noticed that over the last several weeks that Spike is not spending as much time in the bedroom by himself. He’s out here with us most of the time (unless there’s a sunspot or visitors). I wonder if he was feeling unwell for the last year and that something has improved. I guess we’ll never know. The other night when he was cuddled up against me, my mind played tricks on me and made me think he was going to die that night. I can’t bear the thought of losing him and wonder how I will get through it when the time comes.

Chin up! As Monty Python would say “He’s not dead yet!”. I’ll focus instead on the fact that he seems to be perking up. He’s playing a lot more too - he and Adia have become really good friends :-)

As usual, I sat down with nothing in mind to write about and as my fingers fly across the keyboard doing a brain dump the post ended up really long! Crazy 🙃

“Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Live it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.”

~Sylvia Plath

progress in inches

Another winter storm is bearing down on us. ETA: Saturday noon… We are well provisioned in case a power outage blocks us from the grocery store. Actually we have enough food in the house for a few weeks! 

School went well on Wednesday night - Adia is getting better each class. We practiced what we learned last week, upping the criteria, and then moved on to other skills. She was the demo dog for greeting other people  - she had to sit by my side and not move when Laurie (the instructor) walked up and shook my hand. First go wasn’t that great, but the second one was pretty good. Lots of practice needed!

Yesterday I had her outside practicing some loose-leash walking with a distraction. What distraction? A bowl of food! We approached and retreated over and over until she could walk past it without looking. She is very food oriented so this is a big challenge. We went out a few times - and hurrah! It was warm enough for my flannel shirt and down vest.

(my pink hair is almost all washed out :-( and note another flannel shirt

Today we took her into PetSmart for more practice (out of the snow, ice, and salt). It didn’t start well - she wanted to sniff absolutely everything. I may have the patience of a saint, but eventually we got so we could walk down the aisle (past food bags!) with no sniffing and a nice loose leash. We were even getting little bits of eye contact. It took some doing, but the fact that we ended well gives me much hope. 

We’ll need many more repetitions before she’s as good as Spike was. I have to remind myself that Spike and I worked pretty hard to get to where he could walk through a restaurant without sniffing. I could do it then (10 years ago), I can do it now. I don’t have the same motivation though, and looking back I was probably more than a little manic…

All this attention to Adia seems to have upset Spike a bit. When we’remm inside he joins in and gets the same number of treats, but with 2 outings on Wednesday and a few times outside without him yesterday he seems to feel left out. Last night he cuddled up against me in bed which is very unusual for him. I thought it was because I hadn’t given him a bedtime snack, but even after the snack he still cuddled. Poor wee guy - he was always the favorite.

“Winter lies too long in country towns; hangs on until it is stale and shabby, old and sullen.”

~Willa Cather

in my heart

The mercury has risen to 0 but it’s a bit windy out so I’ve still been wearing my huge down coat with its built in hood. I remember the days when nary a hat would mess my hair, but alas, I’ve turned into a wimp and now shiver at the slightest cool breeze. 

I received the silicon baggies that I’d ordered - they are a bit bigger than I’d hoped so don’t comfortably fit in my pocket. I’ve jammed two in though, one with slightly dried hearts and hotdogs, the other with dried liver (the stuff from Costco that every dog loves). Thus armed I headed outside for some recall practice, and to get the zoomies out of the ridgeback. It’s a school night, so I’d like her somewhat calm and not leaping at the end of her leash like some sort of crazed marlin.

She ran. Pooped. Ran some more. Lots of good recalls, but it’s all part of the game so I expect her to run at full speed and skid to a stop for a tasty treat. I figure the more good ones we get, even when it’s a game, the better my chance of getting one when it counts.

Atlas, Kirsten’s great dane, has been having some health problems - his heart - and had to stay overnight at the emergency vet last night. We are all pretty worried about him.

I was shocked to get a message this morning that our good friend D. had a heart attack last night and was at the Heart Institute. It sounds like they got him there quickly so hopefully he has little damage to his heart. I imagine that the worry doesn’t end there - one stent in and 2 to go... I’d be a wreck if it was Carm.

“We feel cold, but we don't mind it, because we will not come to harm. And if we wrapped up against the cold, we wouldn't feel other things, like the bright tingle of the stars, or the music of the aurora, or best of all the silky feeling of moonlight on our skin. It's worth being cold for that.”

~Philip Pullman

super powers

The sun drew us outside but by the time I walked down to the gate my cheeks were already rosy with the cold. It was almost -20C, too bitter to linger outside, but the perfect day for a drive in the country.

Our first stop wasn’t far away - our local dive got our business for breakfast - and then we piled back in our trusty Subaru and headed cross-country to Pet Valu for some raw-coated kibble that we had a coupon for. It’s too pricey to feed as a meal, but great for training treats. Both dogs love the little kibble (not as much as raw chicken hearts though…). 

Then to liquidation to look at winter coats. Didn’t find what I was looking for but did find ANOTHER flannel shirt. Yes… 1 is not enough… and neither is 2 or 3. Four might be the magic number :-0 I will say that these shirts are my favorite winter thing to wear, along with my ‘Sweetlegs’ leggings. Oh yes. I’m quite a sight these days. Flannel shirt, oversized t-shirt, leggings with funky designs… I look like an overgrown, wrinkly 12 year old with no fashion sense. Add in my newly pink hair and you can see why I might get sideways glances at the store.

I have never been a conventional dresser. As a young teenager I’d wear my jeans until they practically dissolved off my legs. I’ve worn t-shirts since I could choose my own clothes. I’ve had shoes with rhinestones, runners with fluorescent laces, cowboy boots, I’ve worn short dresses with high-top running shoes, dress pants with paddock boots. My wedding dress had a bright green crinoline underneath it’s conventional whiteness. 

Some of my ‘cruise clothes’ are middle of the road boring. I suppose that’s when I’m more likely to dress up. Yes, dress up like someone I’m not. The crazy thing is, if you were to meet me on a cruise or somewhere else like a funeral or something, you’d think I was a quiet, boring woman with a stiff upper lip and all that jazz.

I’ve been thinking about this for a few weeks and have decided that I’m going to be the real me more often. The me that sings (well, I won’t subject people to much of that), and dances, and has pink hair and wears flannel shirts. I’m going to cast aside my serious persona and get in touch with my zany side. Or if I don’t fully cast aside (because I do have a serious side - I guess I can’t deny that part of me), I can at least let the crazy out of the bag now and then! At least that’s my fantasy! or one of them. My real fantasy is that I’ll become a superhero with humour as my power.

“I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am.”

~Sylvia Plath

the imagination to improvise

The snow is sparkling like a million crushed swarovski crystals strewn across the white ground, each tiny gem casting a rainbow in the bright sun. It’s cold, but the dazzling display drew us outside for a little bit. Yesterday, Carm snowblowed a big loop in the field so that we could have a little stroll and as a racetrack for Adia. She didn’t need no stinking racetrack - her long legs could fly through the deeper snow puffing up billows of snow as she ran. 

There were tracks of other creatures in the snow, perhaps a fox was hunting for mice.

Pat came for supper last night - a good diversion for my sluggish brain. I felt drained and a bit confused most of the day yesterday - not sure if it was my horrible dream or the lack of sunlight for the last several days. I cludged a few recipes together to make a burrito bowl in the instant pot. It turned out great and got 4 ½ / 5 stars by both Pat and Carm.

The other day I was talking with Carm about some of the things I do to keep mentally well and the subject of writing a book came up. I’ve thought about it but don’t feel that I have the skills to bring the reader into my head so that they could experience my rocky ride. Telling my story in a matter of fact way would not only be boring, it would rob the reader of true understanding. I think that part of what I would say might help others who also struggle with mental illness as I’ve discovered so many things I have control over that help me.

I feel that after all these years of trial and error I am in a good space. I still get punches of anxiety that are unexplained, but even these can almost be managed with what I’ve learned. I no longer get frequent bouts of depression - it’s been years since I’ve thought that life is too hard to go on living. I didn’t get here by accident, I’ve worked hard in so many ways but it’s been worth it!

It is easier in some ways to let life just happen - there is a sort of comfort in stasis. Taking responsibility for oneself is hard. But it must be done, otherwise I would have continued living in a gloomy fog, with no recollection from one day to the next, waiting for the next hypo-mania to breathe some life into me. Not a good way to live.

After I took care of the basics: regular sleep hours, fresh air and a bit of exercise, regular meals; I could start learning the harder things, like controlling my thoughts. I have learned through lots of reading, trial and error, help from my niece Shenna, more reading and lots of practice, that my own self-talk can be controlled to a degree and that it, more than anything else, determines my mood. If I think to myself that I am tired, gosh darn, I’m tired. If instead, I think that I’ve got more energy and feel like doing things, then that’s what (mostly) happens. Of course it isn’t as easy as it sounds but requires constant vigilance, awareness, and lots of practice. My illness has its own voice and I have to drown it out with mine. Sometimes it shouts but I shout back.

All this being said, I still have to take medications. It’s possible that with my practiced skills I could reduce some of them, but I don’t have a doctor to help me through this, so I stay with the status quo - it’s working after all!

“And by the way, everything in life is writable about if you have the outgoing guts to do it, and the imagination to improvise. The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”

~Sylvia Plath

a silent scream

This morning it took several cold, wet pokes in the face before I was conscious enough to get out of bed. Carm usually gets up to feed the dogs while I fall back asleep for another hour, and during this time Adia gets one toy and then another to bring them to the side of the bed, each time checking to see if I’m awake… This morning it took more than the usual number of nudges…

A silent scream strangled in my throat as I opened my eyes in the darkness. Violent images crowded together in my brain, the horrific remnants of a nightmare that refused to leave. I struggled against the sickening horror, trying to clear them from my thoughts and wondered what abhorrent part of my brain could conjure up such dreams. 

I avoid violent movies like the plague, but got drawn into ‘Marwin’ with Steve Carrel for a while. There were lots of violent scenes but I thought they’d be okay since they were with dolls… from the depths of my memory a scene from ‘The Shape of Water’ imposed itself and my terrible imagination embellished it. All fuel for the madness.

It took over an hour to fall back into a fitful sleep - Facebook came in handy and I read a bit of a book about mindfulness before I could shake the feeling off enough to close my eyes.

I was up at 7:30 for a quick trip outside with the dogs. About 15cm of snow had fallen, fluffy and dazzling white, and a bit of sun was showing in the east, painting the sky a faint pink - I ran back to the house for my phone. Once back inside from my photographic excursion I snuggled back under the covers for another few hours!

“Dandelion wine. The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stoppered...sealed away for opening on a January day with snow falling fast and the sun unseen for weeks...”

~Ray Bradbury

a good book

I was already stretched out on the futon, Spike at my side and Adia at my feet, with a fluffy blanket covering us, when the snow started. It must have been a slow moving storm as yesterday the forecast called for it to start before noon… and it was just before 3pm when it arrived. Not that we are sorry for the delay!

I finished a piece of literary fluff earlier in the afternoon and after a break picked up ‘Portrait of a Marriage’ by Pearl S. Buck. I was hooked on the first sentence.

The June landscape of Pennsylvania was full of pictures.

I lapped up the second paragraph, reading it over and over to myself, wishing that I could express myself so well. 

He looked at the richness about him and asked himself if it were perhaps too rich and the beauty too lush for a canvas. Did the plenteousness also contain a monotony?

The story is interesting, but to be honest, I spend more time luxuriating in the prose than paying attention to the action. This kind of focused attention wears out my brain faster than can be imagined, so it is a slow progress, but oh so satisfying!

Adia and I have been working on ‘mat’ and stay today - with a few small failures, she’ll stay on a mat in the middle of the room while I go into the kitchen and put a little kibble in her bowl. I can even open the front door now (not with company coming in yet though). She does get a bit confused and offers a few other behaviours if we are too far away from the mat, but the send distance is getting further.

It was too much to ask her to stay when Carm was bustling about getting Grace’s food while I got her food out of the bin in the other room. No, she was distracted and anxious to get her broccoli treat and then her supper, so I settled for a quick sit and left it for tomorrow.

Later in the evening, the snow swirled against my back as I hunched in the storm waiting for Adia to ‘go’. If I had stayed out much longer, clothed only in pajama bottoms and a flannel shirt (my beloved flannel shirt), the snow would have started accumulating on my shoulders, and as it was when I went inside I had to shake vigorously and rub the towel briskly over my hair. The exhilaration of being in the elements contrasted nicely with my comfortable spot on the sofa under a down blanket.

“In the winter she curls up around a good book and dreams away the cold.”

~Ben Aaronovitch

by the hearth

Last night we gathered with Jo Ellen, Don and Romy around the table, a stand in for a warm hearth. Steaming bowls of curried lentil soup and slices of fresh Moroccan bread filled our bellies while bright conversation filled our minds. There is no better way to spend a cold winter night than gathering with family or friends. 

The three dogs got along well - every visit is an improvement. Adia practiced her mat skills and managed to mostly behave, although at times she was a bit rambunctious. 

Today we had another visitor - Karen, the girl who used to pet sit for us years and years ago. It was nice to catch up with her and see that her life is working out so well. Hard to believe that it was 20 years ago that we first met her!

The mercury took a dive last night and we woke up to -20C. The dogs didn’t linger outside for long and we managed to convince them to come back to bed for another hour. It warmed up a bit in the afternoon but no one was really keen to play… until they were in the house. The two of them horse around like two pups, sending furniture flying! I don’t really complain though as they are getting along so well - better than I’d ever hoped for. Spike seems so much happier than he has for ages.

The forecast is calling for a big snowfall tomorrow… with nowhere to go and a full larder we’ll cocoon ourselves at home, maybe with a fire, and watch movies. We’ll have to go outside with the dogs, but venturing out into the wild weather only enhances the warmth of home.

“Music, once admitted to the soul, becomes a sort of spirit, and never dies.”

~Edward Bulwer Lytton

there were never such devoted sisters

Soon after we got settled into the booth at Country Kitchen, Kirsten arrived, her smiling face brightening up a dull day. We had lunch (greek salad for me) and then I transferred my stuff to her car for an overnight visit. A quick kiss to Carm and we were on our separate ways.

We made a quick stop at liquidation and then we were on our way to her house for a sister’s night of fun. They had given me a bottle of prosecco and one of Aperol for Christmas… I’d never had an aperol spritz and I have to say I’m sold. I loved it! It will be a lovely drink for summer. The only problem is that there has to be enough people to use up the bubbles!

Sisters, sisters

There were never such devoted sisters

~ from White Christmas

Anyway, we had fun with lots of laughs.

I was home in time on Wednesday to have a short rest and a bit of practice with Adia before marching off to school. Snow was in the forecast (of course), but luckily it held off until just before we headed home. The class was excellent and Adia was almost a superstar… although she lost focus at the end of the session. I did too. One hour is a long time to pay attention.

We are learning a bunch of stuff including ‘mat’ which will be extremely helpful once we get it  down pat. We hadn’t done this before, and by the end of the practice she could be sent from a few feet away and even laid down on her own - superstar! We’ve been practicing today and am able to send from several feet, as well as developing a good stay. She even stayed put when Carm got her dish out of her crate. Jackpot! Another jackpot for staying when I opened the front door.

I call her a big dummy, but actually I think she’s rather smart :-)

And that snow… it fell overnight leaving a beautiful winter scene for us to wake up to. There was a bit of sunshine to complete the tableau. There was no wind (it’s a bit windy now), and decked out in just a flannel shirt (which I have barely taken off for weeks), and a puffy down vest (one of my finds from liquidation), I wandered around the property taking photos with my phone. 

One of my pleasures today: the silky softness of well kneaded bread dough.

“One ought, every day at least, to hear a little song, read a good poem, see a fine picture, and, if it were possible, to speak a few reasonable words.”

~Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

a day lost

I juggled my phone and some treats this afternoon so that I could capture a few moments of ‘deek the lion’. The participants jumped and ran and deeked and swerved in a fluid dance on the icy snow.

Pat came for supper last night so I used the time to work on ‘relax’, Adia’s new behaviour. I had a clear idea in my head of where I wanted to end up (down on one hip with head lowered and relaxed). We started with down on one hip, an easy place to start as she gives me that anyway. Then, slowly, inch by inch, got her head resting on her paws, if only for an instant.  I am always amazed at how quickly a behaviour can be built, without any physical contact, using only a verbal marker (yes) paired with a treat, and good timing.

I lolled around for much of the day, troubleshooting the wicked battery drain on my tablet (haven’t figured it out yet), until finally we decided to go out for a bit of shopping. Scored big at liquidation, got some potatoes on sale at Giant Tiger, and so the afternoon went, amazing deals everywhere we turned. If I had heard the weather forecast I never would have agreed to go as freezing rain had a prominent place in the reports. However, it was okay with some ice on the edges of some roads.

I took these photos on my phone and edited them in Lightroom - they looked great. Now that they are on my tablet… not so great! Is it Google Docs? Or my tablet? Or the resize app? I can see what I’ll be doing tomorrow…

“We should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once.”

~Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche

be careful what you ask for

“Oh what a beautiful morning, oh what a beautiful day” - the lyrics snaked through my brain like an overgrown earworm. Enough snow had fallen to adhere to the ice making the laneway passable again, with some still lightly falling in a picturesque, snow globe sort of way. We didn’t have anywhere to go and have company coming for supper. A lovely day.

And then, a squeaky wheel heralded the progress of the sewing machine cart into the living room. I was optimistic… stupidly… as soon as I sat down at my nemesis, the swearing started. What the F)(%. It was grabbing from below and tangling the thread. More swearing. More tangling. Carm oiled it. More swearing and by now I’m in a pretty bad mood and shouting at anything that moved. Thought I’d try changing the thread in the bobbin and above. Fixed. Sewed up a few easy things. Wrestled a big chewed blanket onto the table. Groan. This will not be easy and may be impossible. Sew up the worst bit. Throw blanket on the floor and stomp on it. Adia immediately lay down on it. Put machine away.

Sawed off  a slice of homemade bread, toasted it, slathered honey and butter, eat. Happy again.

By noon the snow had stopped. Yesterday we had 43mm of rain which would translate to about 2 feet of snow. It would have been a bit of work to shovel out of that, but would have been a nice base for snowshoeing and skiing.

I’ve been practicing with Adia and have noticed some unfortunate things I had previously rewarded. From a down to a sit no longer has a nice little pop, but instead a giant leap in the air into a sit. Cute, but not so desirable. Also, 'down' gets me intense eye contact. I need two kinds of down: 1) down like a sphinx with eye contact; and 2) down on one hip relaxed without laser focus. I really need a clear picture in my head about what EXACTLY I want in the end and carefully build to that.

"Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness.”

~Maya Angelou

bread

We are forecast to get the equivalent of 3 feet of snow today and tomorrow… luckily (for today so far) it is in the form of rain. Most of the snow is gone, the laneway is a skating rink, and the creek is flooded. Water water everywhere and not a drop to drink.

It was a good day to hibernate, although I did send Carm out this morning for yeast. I’d been reading some old blog posts and one talked about Moroccan bread - I haven’t made it for years and today seemed like the perfect day for the aroma of yeasty dough rising followed by the divine smell of baking bread. Oh yum. Bring on the rain!

I had set aside two blobs of dough to cook on the stove for a little snack. Stretched out thin and quickly browned on each side, these little disks were the perfect platter for a slathering of butter and honey making a heavenly treat.

So what to have for supper? I wasn’t in the mood for the Moroccan stew that I’ve made before, but a lemon and olive chicken recipe in my Moroccan cookbook caught my eye. I wasn’t into following the recipe exactly, but used the flavours as a jumping off point for my own version. Was it good? Well, I gave it a 4 out of 5, Carm only a 3 ½ (such a low score as he’d rated yesterday’s Thai peanut curry a 4 and preferred it to my invention.) 

While the sweet potato roasted in the actifry, I sauteed some chicken, garlic, ginger, and onion for a moment. Then added mushrooms, diced lemon (yes the whole thing skin and all), red pepper, ¼ tsp ground coriander, ¼ tsp turmeric. After a minute or two I poured in some chicken broth, put in the trivet with the bowl of rice on it. Poured broth into the rice, put the lid on and set it for 6 minutes. Ta Da! Done. Served with a sprinkle of black olives and a shredded carrot salad with orange blossom water.

Earlier when I picked up my ancient cookbook (signed and dated 1987), a folded paper fell out. On it was written, in Cynthia’s handwriting, a rough plan for a feast of lamb on a spit and all sorts of Moroccan sides. There was the first pass at a guest list, and in large writing that there’d be no cutlery - everyone was going to have to eat Moroccan style: with our hands! We made a note that we’d have to tell people to dress appropriately. We thought about foregoing the table and would instead sit on the floor. I can’t remember much of that meal, other than the fact that it was fantastic, and that the lamb looked exactly like Pan, our greyhound, as it turned on the spit.

I looked for the photos but couldn’t find them :-(

I spent a little time this afternoon playing with a new app. Lightroom lets me change settings like ISO etc. I need to experiment a bit more...

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”

~Friedrich Nietzsche

without music life would be a mistake

Why is it that I can’t remember what I did yesterday but can remember all the words to ‘Patricia the Stripper’? Lucky for Carm he is out for the afternoon and spared loud, totally out of tune singing!

I’ve also got the dehydrator busy drying hearts and hotdogs - oh yum. The smell might be driving the dogs insane!

Loud singing and stinky cooking - oh yeah baby, I know how to live it up!

I’ve got my 70s playlist belting out tunes… it was the decade of very, very good and very, very bad and I love it all and know the words to a shocking amount of it. It’s amazing that there is room for anything else in my brain… The 70s - the decade of everything good by the Eagles and everything bad like ‘Muskrat Love’.

“Without music, life would be a mistake.”

~Friedrich Nietzsche