Dusty Acres

The Moment

2010-10-21T15:19:00.001-06:00

Breathing, we take a breath in and we let our breath out. Every moment of every day we are breathing. Nothing out of the ordinary, right. That is, except, for those very special moments in life when something extraordinary and even miraculous happens that takes your breath away.

Kharys Elizabeth Ailyn - 1 minute old

On Monday October 18, 2010 at 7:03 pm I experienced one of those moments that literally takes your breath away. I watched with big round eyes as my daughter Amanda gave birth to her second daughter, Kharys Elizabeth Ailyn; all 9 pounds 11 ounces of her. What a strong woman my daughter is.

Thank you, my dear, for sharing this moment that took my breath away. The moment when your beautiful little girl took her first breath and stole my heart. It is a moment I shall treasure all of my breathing days.

9 pounds 11 ounces

Beautiful Mom and babe

Jaina meeting her new sister.

Do I look happy, or what?!

Me, Jaina and Kharys (20 hours old)

Kharys - 2 days old. Dressed for her first walk to the park.

Autumn Colour

2010-10-04T23:00:00.000-06:00

Autumn is my favorite time of the year. The light is incredible, the colours intense, and the air is crisp. I like to think of fall as the beginning of the year. Maybe it has something to do with kids and school, or it's just because its a season of change, somethings ending, others starting anew.

Autumn brings out the kid in me. I am still outside digging in the dirt whenever I can, raking pine needles and jumping in the crunchy leaves, and walking the beach looking at all the cool rocks. This year with my first attempt at college, time seems to be in short supply for these 'kid' activities. But the clear cerulean blue skies and chilly air beckon me outside to explore and play.

Play this weekend was a 100km round trip on the quads to Summer Lake. What an awesome day; the mountain slopes covered in almost a florescent flood of colour. A hundred shades of green sliding into yellows, oranges, and reds. Breathtaking.

My Dusty Acres Summer Vacation by Jaina

2010-08-09T23:53:00.000-06:00

My Mommy wants to know what I did on my summer vacation at Dusty Acres with Grandma and Grandpa Wilson so I asked my Grammie to write this up for me. I call Grammie that when I am being goofy.

It was a long drive from Calgary to Dusty Acres. Every time I asked Mom if we were there yet she said, ten more minutes honey, ten more minutes. There were a lot of ten more minutes. I sang Mom lots of songs; Baa Baa Black Sheep, Smokey the Bear, My ABC's, Swimming and the Itsy Bitsy Spider. We were at Grandma and Grandpa's before I ran out of songs.

Chill'axin at Bull River

It was a busy week with Grandma and Grandpa; for old people they sure were fun. We went canoeing at the lake, to the play park, hiking, and we went to the beach where we dug for treasure, went fishing and on bear hunts by following the animal tracks in the sand and mud. Grandma told me when we were at the beach we are 'Chill'axin'. I like that word.

Digging for Treasure

Fishing

Going on a Bear Hunt

The treasure is here somewhere!

Grandma also taught me to wave really big at Thomas the Train so that he would blow his whistle. She even put me up on her shoulders so I would be real high and the conductor would see me waving. Four trains went by when we were at the beach and four times Thomas blew his whistle. I was so happy. Grandpa told me not to be disappointed if they didn't blow their whistle. I was not disappointed.

That's me, asleep under the book.

Every night Grandma would read me stories. One of my favorites was Pinocchio. I had Grandma read it to me two nights in a row. Grandma has a big playroom she calls a studio. She had chalk, paints crayons paper and a bunch of clothes pegs in her studio. While she was working on a surprise for me, I was working on a surprise for her. I was collecting clothes pegs from her basket. I learned how to use them the day before when I helped Grandma hang the clothes on the line.Those clothes pegs got me thinking about Pinocchio. If I put that clothes peg on my nose I would be like Pinocchio and have a really long wooden nose. So I put one on my nose. I forgot that they pinched. Hard. I cried really loud and Grandma quickly reached over and unpegged my nose. I could tell she was trying hard not to laugh. She gave me big hugs and wiped away my tears. She asked me 'Jaina, why did you put the clothes peg on your nose?' I told her I wanted to be Pinocchio. Grandma gave me another big hug. When Grandma asked me what I learned I told her 'don't put clothes pegs on your nose, they pinch'.

Teetering with Grandpa

Grandpa teetering!


Grandma and Me in Winnie the Pooh's House.

My cave at the play park.

Me and Grandma in front of the Bull River Community Hall.

Grandma likes it when I sing. She was surprised I knew so many songs. I even knew some she didn't know. My Mom and Grandma Potosky taught me lots of songs. Grandma Wilson taught me a new song too. It goes like this; Ninety nine bottles of milk on the wall, ninety nine bottles of milk on the wall. Take one down, pass it around, ninety eight bottles of milk on the wall.' It was a real long song. Grandma tried to get me to sing it but I wasn't sure of all the words so I would practice it when I was having quiet time and Grandma was sitting outside in the sun working on my surprise. I do know the words but I sometimes get the numbers wrong.

I like Grampa pushes..I go very high and I do not let go!

Norbury Lake

Canoeing was fun with Mom and Grandpa. They paddled me all around the lake. I felt just like a princess sitting in the canoe, my slaves paddling away. Especially when my hat blew off and they had to try and get it before it sank. Sitting in the canoe in the warm sunshine was so relaxing I almost fell asleep. After lunch I went canoeing with Mom and Grandma. We saw a snake swimming in the water, fish, loons and eagles.

Grandpa, Grandma and Me

Grandpa took me on a special ride too. We went on the ATV. He hung on to me real tight. I kept pointing at all the things I was seeing and telling him about them but the ATV was too noisy, he couldn't hear me. When we got close to the lake we found some big cows. They had something on their tummy. When I asked Grandma what they were she told me they were udders, and there is milk in there. She's silly, the milk is in a carton in the fridge. My Grandma Wilson, she's so full of stories.

I like ice cream!

Grandma told me a really good story on the drive home to Calgary. It was about a little girl named Jaina, just like me. She didn't even have a book, she just talked. I really liked that; I listened very carefully. When Grandma was done the story about Jaina I asked her for another but she said she had to think of one. I asked her about ten more times on the way home if she had thought of one yet but she kept saying 'not yet'. Grandma, have you thought of another Jaina story yet?

My new quilt and apron that Grandma made just for me.

I was so happy to see my Mommy when I got home. She was waiting outside for me. I ran to her and gave her big hugs. My Mommy looked like she was going to cry. I had a really good time at Dusty Acres with Grandma and Grandpa, but I am really happy to be home with Mommy and Daddy. I missed them. And Cleo and Pharaoh too.

My Grammie & Me

Maybe Mommy and Daddy will let me go back to Dusty Acres and have another vacation with Grandma and Grandpa. I will even sing that song for Grandma.

Piecing it Together

2010-07-21T22:20:00.000-06:00

A year ago Amanda asked for a quilt for Jaina as she had moved into her 'big girl bed' and needed a quilt. While in Vancouver last fall, Amanda, Jaina and I went fabric shopping. We came away with a good selection of fabric, all I needed was a couple of complimentary pieces to round out the selections. I picked up a few here and there over the next few months, but just could not get inspired to start cutting. The fabric wasn't talking to me, it wasn't telling me what it wanted to be. So it sat.

While in Calgary this spring I had the opportunity to take Jaina for the day...so I took her to the park, lunch and the quilt shop. She was the perfect two year old, happy to be busy, out and about. But not so happy when Grandma was concentrating on driving in Calgary traffic and was quiet.' Talk, Grandma!', came the request from the back seat.

The stop at the quilt shop was very successful. Having Jaina with me, and having spent the day with her I was getting a better idea of her personality. The fabrics I chose reflect how I see Jaina, bright, happy, excited, and oh so energetic.

After a couple of months of fitting in bits of time piecing it together, here is the finished quilt top. Now just to get it quilted. Hope Jaina likes it!

Getting Pierced

2010-07-18T22:49:00.000-06:00

Just yesterday, while dining in one of our local watering holes, my husband remarked about all the piercings young people have nowadays. Don't worry honey, I reassured him, I won't get anything (else) pierced. No more metal for me. How wrong I was, again.

Weeding is great therapy. Seeing as how I am off on medical leave for a bit, in need of some therapy, I thought this would be a great activity for a hot, sunny Sunday. There is something satisfying about the crick in your back after bending and stretching to rip those stubborn weeds out by the roots, the blisters on your thumb and index finger that develop after hours of yanking on tenacious hanks of chickweed, crab grass and pig-weed and the sunburn on your back after you have shucked your shirt cause it is too hot. Acupuncture is great therapy too, when done properly. But I do not recommend acupuncture, or getting your latest piercing via pruning shears. This is likely to happen when you hook one handle of your very sharp open pruning shears in your shorts pocket while weeding, then stand up to dump the offending weeds in the wheelbarrow. It is highly probably that you will find that those cute little blue handled shears have leaped from your pocket and are now standing firmly erect in your foot, cleanly piercing your skin trying to peg you to the spot you have just weeded. Why you ask did I have pruning shears when weeding? Well, I was on my way (an hour earlier) to do some pruning when those weeds jumped up out of no where and taunted me as I walked past, na-na, nana-na they screamed at me. How could I not stop and rip their roots from the earth? Why didn't I close and lock my shears before putting them in my pocket? Duh, that is too simple.

With blood leaking from my foot (not quite gushing but squishing in my sandal) I located my personal physician so he could patch me up. Hmm, pretty deep, he says. Got a needle? Not likely I tell him, duct tape will do. Being the professional that he is the duct tape was a no go, but it is wrapped very prettily in nice white gauze and tape. No more piercings, he says, no more metal.

I am fine, my foot hurts a bit but nothing like the sting of the fact that the weeds won the battle this day. I will be back chickweed, I will be back to get you.

For those that have chastised me for not keeping my blog up, this is for you. As I mentioned, I was lacking inspiration to write. Obviously, stabbing myself in the foot is not the best inspiration, but it worked. Here I sit, with my foot throbbing, nicely wrapped and elevated sipping on my pain killer thinking of better topics to write about than my latest piercing.

Framing the Memory

2010-04-09T23:21:00.004-06:00

The tornado of activity is over, the dust has settled, the granddaughter and her Mom and Dad have returned to Calgary. It's amazing how one little girl can stir up so much dust and so many smiles.

It was a weekend full of digging in the dirt and wheelbarrow rides.

And ATV rides around the property.

Dad & Jaina

Mom & Jaina

After a short rest it was indoor bowling, Easter eggs hunts and Jaina's 'ideas'. Jaina's ideas include running in circles, jumping and bounding around, tossing the basketball to whoever is not looking. It was family time sitting around the kitchen table decorating Easter Eggs.

What colour will this make my fingers?

It was time spent in my tiny kitchen with my girls baking cookies, making spaghetti and Amanda's requested stuffing dinner with a side dish of turkey.

And outside around the campfire roasting marshmallows and hot dogs.

Hiking and kite flying and walking through the 'jungle'. Then time spent on the front porch basking in the late afternoon sun while the turkey roasted. Jaina galloping barefoot back and forth, laughing and grinning.

And the cutest ears a girl could hope to have. (Marlene is going to thump me for this picture).

Gary carrying on his tradition of making pancakes on Sunday morning for his favorite girls.

It was a fabulous weekend which seemed so short in length, but so full of laughter, smiles, special moments and story time. Story time was anytime Jaina spotted a book, at quiet time and bedtime.

Ahh, story time, my favorite time. A warm wriggling and giggling granddaughter squishing herself closer to my side. The rapt attention as the story unfolds, whether it be about Humpty Dumpty or Smelly Socks. The sparkling eyes and happy grin when she says to me 'Now I read to you, Grandma' and then proceeds to tell me the story, page by page. And those same hazel eyes that gaze into mine as she wriggles closer to me, and then with soft tiny hands gently pats my cheeks, framing the memory, as she whispers in her sweet, little girl voice 'I love you, Grandma'. Aaahh, storytime. Stories read, shared, new memories and stories made. Like this one.

Mud

2010-03-07T20:19:00.000-07:00

Me and mud seem to have an ongoing relationship. My name has been mud, I have been referred to as a stick in the mud, I am about as clear as mud, and I get stuck in the mud. Maybe you remember this pic from last year. I also like to play in the mud.

This year both Gary and I are having a lot of fun playing in the mud and getting dirty. My name is not mud, I am definitely not a stick in the mud, but I sometimes still get stuck in the mud. And its clear I know where to find mud!

Back from playing in the mud...yee ha! It was fun.

I know I don't look too muddy here, but got to love the flashy helmet.

Okay, now with helmet off. Happy, muddy me dressed in about five layers, sporting helmet hair at Tie Lake. My boots are thick with the mud we have been through; my back is peppered with lovely splashes of the same sticky mucky mess. The mud washes off but the memories of a great day with my wonderful hubby last forever.

Busy Weeks

2010-01-23T20:03:00.001-07:00

It has been a couple of busy weeks. A short, but great, visit with Kevin, Danita and Stella in Port Moody followed by a week long training session for work in Vancouver.

Me and my precious Stella.

A quick trip the next week, again for work, to Calgary which just happened to be perfect timing for Jaina's 2nd birthday.

Happy 2nd birthday Jaina!

I had a great time with Jaina (and her Mom and Dad) while in Calgary. Jaina's increasing vocabulary is very entertaining.

After a twelve hour sleep on Friday night I was ready for an adventure. Marlene and I headed out for a hike through the Ramparts. Gary warned her ahead of time, when hiking with Joan, be prepared for anything, she doesn't know when to turn around and head back. Our walk turned into a nine mile trek through some pretty icy conditions. Thank goodness for the chains and spikes that I brought along for our boots. Our 'walk' would have been more like twleve or fourteen miles if I hadn't brought the GPS. Gotta love bushwacking.

Serious chains and spikes for our boots. These are the best!

This is the Kootenay River with the Steeples and Bull Mountain in the background.

Marlene, in front of the Kootenay River, the Steeples and Bull Mountain. When she heard me say that I was packing lunch and coffee, I think she figured that we were going for more than a 30 minute stroll.

Thanks for coming with me Marlene, and trusting me and my GPS. Hope you enjoyed our nine mile 'Rampart' adventure. Next weekend...

Noel

2009-12-26T17:47:00.003-07:00

Yes, four days off! Time to go outside and play. But first, got to bake Gary an apple pie and get the turkey in the oven. That done, it left time to spend a couple of hours hiking up in the Pickering's with Pam, Yeller and Kilo, crunching through the snow. Such fun. Got back, spent a few minutes saying hi to our guests that arrived shortly before and then hustled Marlene out the door to go explore down by the Bull before darkness settled in. Lots of ice in the River. I love watching Bull Mountain, it looks so different moment to moment.

Boxing Day had us outside once more, enjoying the azure blue skies framing the snow covered mountain peaks. We hiked around and over Horseshoe Lake, listening to the crack of the ice as we walked across the lake observing several ice fishing families, feeling the bite of the -15 degree air made colder by the wind blowing on our frozen cheeks...a beautiful Boxing Day in Bull River. Very exhilarating.

From there we went up the Bull River Forest Service Road and spotted 'Noel'. At least that is what I will call him. The Bear that didn't want to miss Christmas. He was poking around in the scrub about 40 feet off the road. Shouldn't he be sleeping like all good little bears!

Every time we go exploring, whether on foot, horse, car or whatever, there is always some adventure waiting! I love it here.

Stella Rose is almost 3 months old!

2009-12-11T18:35:00.003-07:00

Little Stella Rose is growing so fast. Such a cutie. Can't wait to snuggle her. Grandma's coming soon, Stella Rose!

Happy Wandering

2009-11-04T22:25:00.000-07:00

I spent my last afternoon of 'freedom' (from paid employment) with my friend Caroline happily wandering through the bush down by the Bull and Kootenay Rivers. We had a great time exploring; finding fabulous colours, textures and shapes everywhere. If only I knew how to use all the settings on my camera. Guess I better do more 'photo rambles'. Caroline, you ready?

Can you see the turtle in the picture above?

Message in a bottle

2009-10-25T20:49:00.002-06:00

You hear stories about people finding a 'message in a bottle' washed up on the shore of a beach somewhere. What is it that makes this seem so exciting, the unknown, the romance, the chance that it someone special will find it? It's the stuff romance novels are based on.

While traipsing along the Kootenay River trying to avoid meeting a bear I found a bottle. A little green plastic bottle, not the old fashioned female shaped Coke bottle, washed well up onto the rocky beach of the Kootenay River. First I thought it was just someone's garbage, that they were to lazy or careless to pack out. I was about to pick it up to pack out when I notice a little scroll of paper stuffed inside. Bears forgotten I pulled out my camera to document the find.

I opened the bottle and shook out the little scroll that was tied with a very thin brittle piece of string. What would this scroll yield? Was is writtten by a child keen to find out how far this little botttle would travel and would someone find it, was it a written by someone capturing their innermost thoughts and stresses and then throwing them away, trying to discard them, or was it someone, a romantic someone sharing their dreams hoping that someone special would find the bottle and scroll.

The scroll contained the thoughts of someone sitting on the bank of a river, a sketch of an eagle and a fish. Part of the message reads..

"Thus the silly notion of tossing a bottle in the water and leaving it to fate, or just a crazy idea from a dream. Someone will probably find this when I am 50. Anyways, here is the letter, the rest is up to chance. Just like fishing."

The letter also indicated that it was written by a woman hoping to find someone special to share fishing and other life adventures. I sat there on the beach, closed my eyes and envisioned this woman, sitting on the beach, alone, enjoying the quiet, the wildlife, the solitude but wishing for someone to share it with. I rolled the little scroll up, stuffed in back in the bottle, and tossed it back into the Kootenay River with good wishes for this woman with a romatic soul, for the right someone to find it.

The last I saw of the message in a bottle it was floating towards the Koocanusa River, coordinates approx: 49°27'10.83"N 115°25'56.21"W.

I have emailed the message writer, hopefully the address is still valid.

Good Luck

Happy Birthday Kevin!

2009-10-22T20:11:00.001-06:00

29! I remember being 29; it was not that long ago. How can our son be there already? If time flies when you are having fun then the last 29 years must have been a blast!

Happy Birthday to a wonderful son and new father! We love you.

My Granddaughters

2009-10-02T22:22:00.001-06:00

I think the picture says it all.

Stella Rose

2009-09-17T00:40:00.002-06:00

Our newest granddaughter Stella Rose.

Masses of dark curly hair, long fingers and long toes. The first thing Kevin said about her was 'her ears match'. (Kevin's don't). She is one very precious bundle.

Pizza delivery

2009-09-14T08:46:00.001-06:00

Several months ago I wrote a about 'The Pizza Test'. I am happy to announce that the pizza has been delivered.

Stella Rose Wilson arrived September 14, 2:57 am, weighing in at a very healthy 9 lbs 12 oz.

Danita, Kevin and Stella all doing well. I will add some pictures later this week.

Exploring the Flathead

2009-08-27T21:28:00.015-06:00

Our neighbours, who own and operate Baldy Mountain Outfitters, have their base camp (and a few smaller private hunting cabins) in the Flathead Valley; their guiding area including over 300 square miles of the most incredible back country.

According to the Sierra Club BC,

The Flathead River Valley is a window to our past. Never settled, this remote valley in BC’s southeast corner is a hotspot for biological diversity. The Flathead is a modern-day Noah’s Ark for many species that have been squeezed into a Rocky Mountain ribbon of green, as their age-old habitat vanishes due to human activity.

The Flathead is home to an astounding 16 species of carnivores, ranging from the tiny marten to the towering grizzly. Six species of hoofed animals (ungulates), roam the spacious valley bottom and serrated mountain tops—including elk, bighorn sheep, moose and mountain goat. There are more grizzly bears here than anywhere else in the interior of North America, and the greatest density and diversity of carnivores on the continent.

When offered the opportunity to trek into one of their secluded hunting cabins we jumped at the chance to explore with people who have spent most of their lives living in and exploring this valley.

The road from the base camp to where we were going to begin hiking was in good condition, but really steep. Sure glad I was not walking it!

We hiked for a couple of hours through some of the most incredible terrain most of it above the tree line. Lots of rock, snags, brush...areas for wildlife to hide.

The hunting cabin is secreted away in the trees near a creek, challenging to find even if you know where it is! The grizzlies can get pretty hungry here as evidenced by the bite mark in the metal roof of the cabin.

On the hike back we travelled along a windy ridge overlooking the valley then down a somewhat steep, rocky animal trail. Yes, clutzy me did fall, smacking my camera good on the rocks. Good thing neither one of us was hurt, just scratched and a little bruised.

What a day! An awesome hike, great people, followed by a delicious dinner at base camp overlooking the pond full of trout. Thanks Harry and Jill!

That's gotta hurt!

2009-08-17T22:33:00.000-06:00

Another first! Yes, almost 50 years old and still having firsts.

This 'big city' escapee is learning about living rural; attending a rodeo is part of the process. When it comes to education I always seem to learn better by doing, but in this case, observing was quite enough. I am not going to be a rodeo queen. Learning to ride is one thing, but what these cowboys and cowgirls do is something else, it has got to be painful, and takes years of practice.

The rodeo included Bronco riding, bull riding, calf roping, steer wrestling, barrel racing and 'trick riders'.

Just watching the participants and the way they interacted with each other was lots of fun. I am not sure who had more attitude though, the riders or the ridees! I think some of those bulls like the sound of applause and want to spend more time in the arena; they really did not want to leave!

It was quite a show. I am sure every one of the participants now needs chiropractic adjustment. Including the four legged ones.

That's gotta hurt!

Celebrating 80 years

2009-08-03T20:53:00.036-06:00

Last week was my Uncle Bill's birthday. Eighty. Eight decades. Twenty years shy of one hundred. Young.

It had been a long time since I had seen my Uncle Bill, my Dad's brother, probably fourteen years or so. He has not changed. He is still kind, funny, thoughtful and loving. His blue eyes sparkle with love, joy and mischief. He makes me smile and laugh. He reminds me of Dad.

Bill loves his family. All of us. That's a lot of people. I could feel it when I sat and talked with him, sharing memories; when I was young, when he and Dad and the rest of his siblings were younger, happy times, sad times.

Not all the aunts and uncles were able to attend. My dad (John), Victor and Barbara Joan have passed away, Sally, Betty and Donald were unable to attend. (But I am sure they were all there in spirit, one way or another.) Uncle Bob and Aunt Nada made the trip over from Victoria. The bond between Bill and his brother Bob was very evident. The pictures below tell the whole story. The expressions on their faces as they shared in telling a story (and clowning around) says it all. (Doesn't matter what the story was, plug in anything you like, being sure to include,'You're not going to tell that story are you', 'That's not how it happened', 'I don't think so', 'Not that again', 'Who, me?').

Here is the group of us that attended the birthday celebration.

It was a pleasure to spend time with all the cousins, aunts and uncles that I have not seen in years. It was great to see Aunt Virginia, Malcolm, Richard none of whom I would have recognized if I had sat beside them anywhere but here.

The Great and the Grand. Bill and Laura's grand kids that is. Lots of them; having fun. Hamming it up for the camera, letting their personalities coming through.

I will put a slideshow up of all the pics from the celebration or you can click here.

Thanks so much for inviting us to share in Uncle Bill's birthday. Looking forward to the next one!

The old girl goes to town

2009-07-12T19:55:00.006-06:00

The old girl finally got to go to town today. I am talking about Bessie and Bull River. Bessie has been hiding under her blanket in the shop for the last year or so. Being such a fine warm Sunday afternoon it seemed like a good time to whip that blanket off of Bessie and drive her out of the shop. We pulled the blanket back and there she sat, looking as good as she did 78 years ago. We poured some fuel into her, hopped in and fired her up. She started with the first turn of the key. Like the rest of us, she needed a few minutes to warm up, get things working, then we headed her to the open road.

The old girl just chugged along; she is no speedster, but for 78 years of age, hitting 35 mph is pretty darn good. If you think what the roads were like 78 years ago, going 35 mph down them must have been quite exciting. Her brakes are mechanical so its a good thing she doesn't get going to fast; her braking ability is proportional to her speed ability. Good enough if you aren't going to fast (or down a steep hill). I think Bessie is a very elegant gorgeous old girl.

Bessie came home with my Dad one day many years ago but came to live at our house as Dad didn't have room for her. She was in rough shape, but with a lot of hard work, time and money Dad and Gary got her back to her youthful looking self. Those two men spent many hours working together on Bessie. Sadly, Dad passed away (1994) before he got to enjoy touring in her, but he has been for a ride in her. Gary now owns this beautiful lady; we both love her.

It was a short drive through Bull River but a fun one. A quick spin down the road, through the townsite, finishing up with a quick stop at the neighbour's. The old girl still runs great, hope I run half as well when I am 78.

The beach in my garden

2009-07-05T23:18:00.004-06:00

Gardening. Seems pretty simple. Put a seed in the dirt, add water and sun and it grows. Right? Hmm, not here, I seem to do things the long hard way.

In early spring we tried to burn off the piles of pine needles burying the jungle of weeds that were left from last fall. (No garden last year, letting it rest. Really.) The ground was still to frozen so we ended up with a smokey mess. We waited six weeks or so and burnt it off again, this time with better results. Two large piles of ashes.

Six weeks after that the taskmaster gave me a couple days off so I spent them turning the soil (term used loosely) in the garden. I think I need a rototiller. The garden that didn't seem so big, seemed pretty darn big when I was trying to loosen the weed regrowth and uncompact the clay like soil. Two days of this digging and I was hunched over and walking like I was 147 years old. It was too early to plant (still snow on Baker Mtn.) so I let the weeds grow once again.

The preferred planting time came and went, (end of May, early June) without any action in the garden. All my attention was focused on the view out of my blasting helmet as the taskmaster had decided it was time to resume the refinishing project on the house. After many, many days of blasting I finally protested, put down the blast hose and spent a couple days redigging and leveling the garden, again. This time I did get seeds and a couple of plants in the ground.

Now the fun starts. Trying to keep that garden patch watered. No matter how much I watered, the dirt was dried out after six or seven hours. My pumpkin plant (Barb's suggestion) was wilting terribly. I dragged the hose back over and let the water run for a couple of hours, hoping that if I could get enough water in the ground the plant would perk up. I did and it did. I went out to the garden after dinner to move the hose to the other side. The ground felt a little squishy when I stepped onto the shake that forms the walking path. My foot slipped off the shake throwing me off balance. I struggled to stay upright, my arms windmilling wildly, I was going down. I managed to keep from ending on my keester in the mud, but I did lose my shoe. I had to reach down into the mud that was shin deep and pull my shoe out of the muck. Good thing there was no one with a video camera around, you'd be laughing for days. Guess I got the soil wet enough.

Mulch. The garden book says I need mulch to keep the moisture in the ground. I had half a bale of straw left so I used that to mulch the squash and pumpkin, but in a 725 sq ft garden that did not cover quite enough. I had the taskmaster bring me all his sawdust and wood shavings from the shop and spread that around. Still not enough.

During June, the month of blasting, we went through a lot of blasting material, corncob grit. It is everywhere right now, inside and out. Where it has covered the dirt in the garden, no weeds are growing. On the lawn area we had reseeded, the corncob grit was acting like a mulch and keeping the soil damp and the grass was finally growing. The light bulb went on! We had bags and bags of used grit ready to go to the dump. I did a little Google research and discovered that I could reuse the already well used grit as mulch quite safely. It only took about 3 hours in 30 C temp to spread the grit around.

Now my garden looks like a beach, a nice white sandy beach. We'll see if my agricultural experiment works. Some of the seeds have sprouted, but not my carrots. I really want carrots.

Blink and it's gone.

2009-07-03T20:43:00.042-06:00

Where the heck did June go. It was here, then blink, it was gone. Let's see what I remember.

I seem to recall a cattle drive that went up our access road providing dinner theatre entertainment for our guests;

corn/glass blasting the logs;

dates with Coyote where he very gallantly carried me without complaint over the creek;

passing the final permit inspection on our 'do-it-ourselves' 3 year workshop project; blasting, finding more wildlife (bats, turtles and a grizzly);

a road trip to Wetaskiwin in the '33 Chev; blasting; an evening spent helping out at a fabulous local wedding; a rainy day where I got to spend some time in my studio; blasting; sitting outside enjoying the warm evenings as it stays light till almost 11 pm; a daytrip to Lethbridge to explore Costco; my 29th wedding anniversary dinner at the Jaffray Pub & Grill and prepping/planting my 25' x 29' garden. How's that for a long run on sentence.

Trying to garden at Dusty Acres can be a real challenge. The soil here is a sandy clay that forms a cement like crust after a good rain and an hour or two of sunshine. Not to mention the local wildlife that seem to think that whatever grows within their reach has been put there for their dining pleasure. But there are a few things that do seem to like to grow here despite our -30 C winters and hot dry summers.

The various honeysuckles surrounding the back deck provides welcome shade and fragrance in early July. The yellow, orange and pink blooms are a favorite of the hummingbirds.
The peonies this year were fabulous; the burgundy ones bloomed early, but the baby pink ones were at there best a few days ago. I threw in a few pics of other 'survivors' from my garden.

My 'other' garden, the vegetable one, is going to be quite a challenge. The soil is very poor and keeping it watered sufficiently is going to be my daily job. I have planted a wide variety of veggies, we'll see what manages to survive my purple thumb attempts at gardening.

Learning the sounds of Bull River

2009-05-24T23:29:00.016-06:00

We have a lot of wildlife in the area, and a lot of people that love that wildlife. So, when we heard what we thought was someone strangling a cat, several rather loud 'mreow' sounds, we had to go find out what the heck was going on. We took our beverages (it was happy hour) and went part way down the access road so we could see the 'townsite'. Nothing out of the ordinary was happening and the 'cat' was quiet. Figuring all was good in Bull River we went back to Dusty Acres, resumed our places on our 'Mayberry' porch, washed some more dust out of our throats and listened to the birds.

It seems maybe the birds have been having a bit too much happy hour cause they keep flying into the windows. Most of the windows have the wooden grills in them, and are a might dusty, so it is not as if there are these are sparkling clean windows that the birds can't see. Although I have known a person or two to walk smack into a sliding glass door so I shouldn't be so judgmental of these flighty birds.

This poor little one, a chipping sparrow, was recovering after a run in with a window. He was pretty dopey, but you will be happy to know he made a full recovery and flew away. But not before I stuck my camera in its cute little face. He looks annoyed, don't you think? Like his beak is a bit sore?

I got another sweet surprise when I was strolling around the yard making sure there wasn't anything that was unsafe for Jaina when she was ready to play outside. A rather large something started moving under the shrubs. Never even thinking it might be a skunk (which have frequented Dusty Acres in the past) I stuck my head down under the shrubs for a better look. You'll be happy to know, it was not a skunk, just a good sized bird that look kind of like a chicken. At first I thought it was maybe a young turkey, but after consultation with the Bull River experts I have since been discovered that it was a Blue Grouse. This rather docile bird strutted around in the shade underneath the Caragana bushes pretending that I wasn't crouched there not three feet away snapping photos.

We have spotted a few other birds hanging around the bird feeder. Like this beautiful American Goldfinch; the yellow on this bird is brilliant. A couple of Western Tanagers have been flying around, but no photos yet.

But back to that 'cat'. I really could not imagine anyone around here hurting an animal so we surmised it must be a bird of some sort. Out came our trusty bird book, Birds of the Rockies. There is a bird, called a Catbird, that makes a 'meow'' type sound. We started watching for this 'Catbird'. Quite elusive this cat bird, but we could still hear it every afternoon. Back to the local experts we went inquiring about the 'strangled cat' sound and could it possibly be a Catbird.

You got to love our neighbours, they just smile and chuckle when we start asking 'how' and 'what' questions. They are so nice. No, they told us, we are not strangling cats, but there is a Bull River resident that has some peacocks. Did you know that a peacock sounds like a stressed cat? I didn't.

But now I am really confused; I have been studying this bird book. According to this book, a Catbird makes a sound like a cat. So you would think that a Cowbird makes a 'Moo' sound. Apparently not. This birding stuff is pretty tricky.

Backyard Bully

2009-05-20T22:12:00.014-06:00

It seems we have a backyard bully. And it is all Amanda's fault.

Two years ago Amanda asked me the same thing she asks me every Christmas, Whadda ya want? Being the ever helpful mom that I am I picked out a few practical things from the Lee Valley catalogue that would make great gifts for our anticipated move to Bull River. Things like mosquito net hats, ice grippers for our hiking boots, walking sticks, hummingbird feeder, and a few other wonderful things. Amanda is a very kind, thoughtful young lady; she picked out the item she believed we would get the most enjoyment from. I could have really used those ice grippers last winter; I ended up on my keester more times than I can remember. Those mosquito net hats might come in handy this spring too. That walking stick would be useful to smack frisky bears on the nose when out hiking.

Ah, but Amanda chose the hummingbird feeder. She had no idea what one little hummingbird feeder was going to do to our peaceful Dusty Acres.

Gary finally pulled the 'make hummingbird feeder stand' from the job jar a week ago. It didn't take him long to find some left over rebar then bend and weld it into the proper shape (he can be quite creative, although some would call this frugal). I made up a nice sweet syrup, filled up the beautiful feeder and hung it just outside our dining room window. And waited. Nothing, no hummers.

It took a few days, but those little hummers finally found the sweet stuff. Before I knew it the whole dang flock of hummingbirds was swooping and diving around the feeder. So the entertainment began. Then wouldn't you know it, they start to get territorial. The male hummingbird guards that feeder all day long, doing his best to chase away any intruders, bullying the hummers that try and sneak a snack.

After watching these little flying darts for a while I realized what they were doing. One or two females would fly close to the feeder, getting the bully to chase them around the front of the house, then half a dozen or so other female hummers would converge on the feeder and slurp back the syrup. Those females, so smart. They had no problem sharing the wealth of food.

Now I am trying to figure out how to resolve the bullying. Do I just let nature takes it course by leaving well enough alone, or do I get another feeder, set it a little ways away and see if they can't all get along and share the nectar. Or is that just going to make the problem worse. Such a dilema. They didn't cover this in conflict management 101.

Lichen the small things

2009-05-01T09:06:00.039-06:00

Most days I am conscientious and do my chores first and then go hiking. Yesterday, with the boss still away, I decided play first, work later. The rationale being I always take photos in the late afternoon light with sun lower in the western sky; now it's time to get some morning and early afternoon shots. So really this is an educational outing, not just play. Do you think the boss will buy that?
I left without a plan in mind, not sure where I was headed. I put my GPS on tracking mode so when I got back I could see where the heck I had been. My feet headed towards the Bull, again, first poking around on the south side for a bit, then over the bridge and heading east up the Bull. This area is such a magnet for me. I traipsed here and there, wandering through much of the same areas as before. Stopping and enjoying the sounds of the river and the birds.

I find myself looking down a lot, mostly cause I am a bit clutzy and need to see where my feet are going. But when I take photos I tend to focus on scenic types shots. Today though, not being in a hurry, worrying about fading light, I stopped and focused on the small things; like the wildflowers, rocks, lichen and sounds. Sounds are hard to capture in a photo so I tried for the other stuff.

There are many different types of moss and lichen here in the trees and on the ground. My experiment today was getting up close and personal with some of these small things, learning about depth of field, manual focus and my zoom lens. Some turned out, some no so much. But that's okay, it validates the learning portion of the excursion. Not getting it perfect today is a very good excuse for more practice, more hiking.

If you click on the photo of the lichen on the branch it will enlarge and the spiderweb on the branch will be visible!

Here is another example of a lichen, kind of like a net, covering the lower branches of a shrub. Oops, that's a hunter's blind I stumbled on along a animal track that I was following.

This purple wildflower, a violet I think, was tiny but in a field of rocks and shrubs, very pretty.

This branch just coming into bud had such nice colors. I'll have to go back and visit it when it is in full bloom.

My conscience was telling me I should save some energy for chores, so I headed in the general direction of home. By the time I arrived back at Dusty Acres my GPS showed that I had traveled a little more than 5.5 miles. I pulled off my boots and had just sat back with a drink cooling my heels when my neighbour showed up. 'Want to go for a walk?'

Whoo hoo, two hikes in one day! Chores could wait. Back on went the boots, grabbed the bear spray and off I went again. We headed 'up the hill' and did a 2.5 hour tour around, what the locals call, Crowsnest Lake through areas I had not been yet. A bit of bear scat around but we hoped the dogs (Yeller and Cinch) would spot any bears before they spotted us. Especially since out of the two of us, I would be the slow one, therefore, a hearty snack for some cranky, hungry momma bear. I'll have to borrow a dog and go back again, this time with my camera and GPS.

Pics and Stones

2009-04-22T23:12:00.010-06:00

March and April have been busy. So busy, blogging seems to have fallen off the radar. The taskmaster is down on the coast so I have a few days off and I intend to make the most of them. The dust cloud from his truck had no sooner settled when I had my day pack and camera ready and my hiking boots on. My goal for the day - Go Outside and Play. That means to me, let my feet take me wherever they decide to go.

I did some more exploring along the Bull through the Big Horn Sheep Conservancy. A small herd of sheep is still hanging around. Must be momma's with their babies. They are pretty shy and shuffled along whenever I got too close.

It was stormy and windy day today; great for hiking and photo taking. Looking south across the highway towards the train tracks there was a big dust storm, must have been the sand and dirt from the 'beach' at the Bull.

The fields and mountains are starting to green up and the river is starting to rise. The Bull is different every day, always interesting to hike along. This stretch of Bull River is next to the Sheep Conservancy.

After scaring the sheep I headed up and over the bluff by the old dam. This is looking east, towards the storm blowing in from Alberta.

There are a few wildflowers starting to appear. Up on this bluff I spotted this pretty little one.

This is a little further up the Bull. I was enjoying myself, not really keeping track of the time, just wandering. That storm is still brewing. The old cottonwood trees sure have personality.

It hasn't been all work the last month. We took some time out to do some geocaching around Norbury Lake with Kevin and Danita. It was their first time out looking for buried treasure. Still a bit of snow around the lake on the northwest side. The reflection of the mountains in the lake was a fluke. Didn't see that til I after I had taken the first pic.

The siding on the shop is about half done. We finished the north wall where my studio is. Surprisingly enough, there have been no tumbles off the ladder or scaffolding and no hammered fingers. Hmm, maybe I shouldn't have said that aloud, I may be tempting fate.

When the cat is away the mouse will play (outside). I am going to dig out my bike, do a tune up and go for a spin. Hopefully not a spin out and spill. I am notorious for falling off my bike. That's why I like hiking so much.

Remnants

2009-03-14T21:29:00.025-06:00

In the early 1900's Bull River was a thriving community. CPR established a 'tie cutting' mill which attracted many men and their families to the area. Mining and hydro power generation on the Bull were also were important to the growth of the area. There is a book called 'Ties to Water' written by the late Vern Casselman, that documents the beginnings of the town, its growth, culture, people, calamities and eventual dissolution as industry in the area changed and families moved to where they could find work.

Bull River consisted of a town site and several work camps established further up the Bull. Many of these camps were just tents, but a few cabins were built too. We found the remnants of a cabin on our last hike; a pile of old rotting hand hewn timbers that have collapsed into the underbrush.

Other signs of these camps are household furnishing and what else, gargabe. On our last hike we found a door to a cast iron stove, a bed frame, tin plates and bowls, and piles of old rusted tin can and jars.

As I stand on the riverbank and listen to the river rushing by, just as they did, I wonder what life was like for the people that lived during the Bull River 'boom' era in what must have been, at least by today's standards, harsh conditions.

Today, Bull River is a snug little community with several families living in and around the town site and surrounding area. A Bull River reunion was held at the community hall last summer for past and present residents of Bull River. The turnout was great; it was interesting for newcomers like us to talk with people that had lived in this area fifty to sixty years ago and hear what Bull River was like in their day.

Exploring Bull River

2009-03-11T21:30:00.023-06:00

Mother Nature has decided that she is not ready for spring yet; but I am. And cause there is no pushing that lady, I'll have to make due with making my blog more 'springy'. The header is from last year when the garden was in full bloom. These yellow things, their name escapes me right now, grow about 5 or 6 feet tall and are quite delicious according to the deer.

Gary never knows what to expect when I suggest we go for a 'walk'. It can be anything from a twenty minute walk around the 'townsite' to a three hour ramble exploring somewhere new. Every hike is an adventure, there is always something interesting. This afternoon found us hiking along the north side of Bull River in an area we had not explored yet.

I keep looking for signs of spring. The willows have a yellow blush to them, some of the shrubs are starting to show new growth, and a few sprigs of gound holly were found growing here and there in sunny spots.

The ice is melting and breaking up on the
river. The 'wannabe photographer' in me had me lying down on the river bank peering under the ice for some of these cool pictures. I was so busy looking at what was in the viewfinder under the ice that I forgot to look what was above the ice. The birch trees look surreal.

The low area by the river had a large birch stand. Many of the trees had been damaged by the wind. If the degree of bend in the trees indicates how strong the wind gets in this area it is no wonder that many of the birch have been blown over.

The Bull River area has a very rich history. We discovered some other items relating to earlier days on Bull River but I will post them another day.

Romantic sounds

2009-03-08T11:59:00.007-06:00

March roared into Bull River last week. It has been several months since we have had a good rainstorm so when the drumming started on the tin roof I just closed my eyes, leaned my head back and listened to the romantic sound. Isn't it amazing how closing your eyes intensifies your other senses. I could feel the soothing sound seep into me.

The after affects of the rainstorm were apparent the next morning. I could see from the house that we had a large 'puddle'. Out came those sexy Sorels to keep my feet dry. It quickly became evident that there was a couple of inches of water underneath the snow and there was a lake where there was no lake before...and where no lake had been planned or desired. There was a lake, about 1.5 inches deep in front of my end of the shop, just lapping at the underside of the door sill. I was scared to look in the door, afraid to see if there was water inside. Thankfully, no. But I now have a waterfront shop, accessible by wading.

Out comes the trusty fire pump and a few lengths of fire hose. Here I thought we would never need to use fire pump, but this is the second time in less than a year. The first time, was last year when we had a forest fire burning very nearby, as Marlene and Paul will remember. Glad you two were here. But now it is just me and hubby and not quite the same adrenalin level. We got the water moving, pumping it over the embankment. It was at the cost of a spatter screen though; got to use what you got. We needed something to keep the gravel and flotsam out of the pump. Pretty cheap considering we could have been replacing a lot of laminate. I am not sure how many gallons of water we pumped out of there, but we had to repeat the process a few times as the water kept drifting in from other areas. This whole thing of having a lake in our yard is so bizarre, normally the water disappears as fast as it falls. The yard turns to dust starting in late spring. Where do you think 'Dusty Acres' came from?

Lesson learned:

Drains, no matter how good they are, don't work when they are frozen.
The dirt at Dusty Acres stays frozen for a long time.
That fire pump is darn handy.
Romantic sounds may have consequences.

Betsy needs CPR

2009-02-17T20:17:00.017-07:00

You'd be surprised how many pine needles a pine tree sheds in the course of a year. A lot. And when you have a lot of pine trees, that means lots and lots of cleaning up pine needles. Digging gooey pine needles out of the gutters, picking them out of the shrubs, sweeping them off the decks and sidewalks and raking them out of the garden. Gary being the safety conscious guy he is, I also have the pleasure of making sure the 'fire load' is kept under control. Which means keeping the pine needles raked on the property. I know we only have a couple of acres but keeping those pine needles under control seems to take up a large part of my time in the spring, summer and fall.

While Gary was on the coast last fall I diligently raked up all the pine needles. With all the landscaping work we had done we didn't really leave a spot close by, but away from the trees, to burn the needles. Lazy me decided to pile them on the garden (that was resting) instead of wheel barrowing them to the extreme far end of the property. What I did not realize was how big that pile of needles was going to get. Let's just say that it was 'one heck of a pile'.

The other thing you have to realize is that we seem to have to move things at least twice. Lumber, logs, siding, dirt, rocks, you name it, we move it once, twice sometimes three times or more, here and there around the property. So it seems only natural that we move this humongous pile of semi frozen pine needles too. Which also meant moving the lumber, again, and those freshly peeled logs, again, so that we could use the trailer to move those pine needles. Old Betsy, the tractor, was going to have get all chained up. That is a whole other blog....

Today was moving day, pine needle moving day that is. After a few 'special' words Gary was able to get Betsy and the trailer over to the pile of needles. We still have a fair bit of snow on the ground which made it tough for the old girl. Betsy, not me. I did just fine thank you very much. It took a bit of 'forking' and a comment from this old girl that 'this was crazy', but we got several loads of pine needles over to our new fire pit. We pushed, pulled and dragged those pine needles off the back of the trailer. Out comes the tiger torch, no little matches for this firefighter, and presto, instant smoke.

Of course, before lighting the fire Gary didn't move the trailer away from the needles. It was still snuggled up to the newly relocated pile of now burning, well smoking, pine needles. Gary goes to start Betsy again but wouldn't you know it, the old girl (Betsy, not me) has decided she's dead tired. So while Gary retrieved the tractor CPR kit (combustion and power remedy) I tried to move the pine needles away from the trailer and slow the fire down a bit. After a fill up, a boost off of another battery and a few more 'special' words, Betsy decides to move away from the warmth of the fire. After that we both spent the afternoon poking and prodding the fire while trying to evade the smoke.

Bull River was a little smokey today, but is was still a beautiful day. The sun was still visible through the clouds of smoke. And once again we finished the day covered in dirt and smelling like smoke. I think all that smoke had Gary reminiscing about the good old days at the firehall.

Timber!

2009-02-13T20:15:00.007-07:00

Bailey is a wonderful guard cat. It will be a quiet night here at Dusty Acres; we will be snuggled on the couch with our blankets watching TV with Bailey curled up sound asleep and snoring on our feet. On occasion she goes from a deep sleep to a tense, frizzed, growling beast. This is our clue that something is out there.

We heard a 'whump' one night and Bailey did her guard cat thing, growling at whatever was threatening us. Seeing as how the roof didn't come crashing down, and cause it was really dark and cold (probably around -20) we didn't check it out any further. Next morning Gary discovered that one of the pines about 50 or 60 feet tall on the east side of the house had come down. Good thing it missed the shed and trailer! I hate to see trees come down (or get cut down), ironic cause I love my log house and wood furniture. Gary and his cousin Lorne have been known to start up the chain saws, stand at the base of a tree, grinning wickedly, and just rev the saw up so they can watch me come charging from wherever I am to save my trees.

On this fine sunny Saturday my very own Paul Bunyan dug out his chainsaws and ropes (I guess that makes me Babe, the blue Ox) and announced it logging day. I quickly got ready; I wanted to make sure only the dead trees were marked for falling. The trees came down without too much trouble; one had some spikes in it which didn't bode will for the chain saw and one we roped up so that I could pull it in the direction it needed to fall just in case it decided to fall towards the shed. Damn, Gary is good, it fell right on the fire we had built to burn the branches.

Of course, all this hard work made us hungry and we had a good hot fire going so out came the weenies and roasting sticks. We haven't roasted hotdogs over an open fire since we took the kids camping...oh so many years ago. No s'mores though.

The rest of the afternoon was spent peeling the logs so that we could use them to build the railings for the shop or whatever. I suggested to Gary that he could use the bigger logs to build me an outdoor kitchen where we could house the BBQ (and beer/wine fridge), perfect for the summer bbq's that you can share with us if you just make the short drive to Dusty Acres. Hint, hint.

As you can see Gary looks very happy and I managed to save a few of our trees. It was a great day spent working together, getting covered in sawdust and dirt and smelling like woodsmoke. Just like a firefighter to cut down seven trees to have a wiener roast.

The Pizza Test

2009-01-31T16:57:00.001-07:00

As most of my friends and family know, I don't like the phone. I rarely pick up the phone to make a call, and if Gary is home, he usually answers. So, in early January, just as we were sitting down to tea in the early evening, Gary answered the phone. It was Kevin. Seeing as we had just talked to him on New Year's I had not expected to hear from him so soon. I am not sure what Kevin said to his dad, but I assume it was something to the effect 'Is Mom there? Can you put me on speakerphone?" Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but I find that when I use the speakerphone, voices get sort of garbled and seem to echo a bit in the room making it a wee bit hard to understand. (I think that is another sign of aging, but more on that another day). Anyways, back to Kevin. I said hello to him and asked him how he was; his reply, at least what I heard was "The pizza test was positive" spoken rather quickly in an excited voice. After a moment or two of silence on my end, I let out a whoop cause I just figured out what he said. 'The pee stick was positive' is what he really said. After much laughing and talking about what I thought he said and congratulating we ended the call but not before he explained that the pizza test indicated that the pepperoni was spicy and the crust not to thick. Ha ha son.

A couple of days later, another call, this time I did answer. No hello, just a voice I haven't heard on the phone more that a time or two proclaiming 'it's official, the rabbit died'. It was a very happy Frances, Danita's mother. She had just got off the phone with Danita and Kevin, and was quite excited that our children had killed the rabbit, so to speak. Kevin called a few minutes later to share the news personally and said that yes, Frances was more than a little excited and literally bursting with excitement. Can't say I blame her. It has been tough keeping this to myself. I had not even told my daughter Amanda, there are some things that you just need to hear from the source. Apparently she was quite beside herself too, cause Kevin called her right after talking with me, then Amanda called to give me heck for not sharing sooner. But she knew the news was best heard from her brother. More giggles.

So as you may have guessed, we are going to be grandparents again in September. Gary and I, and Danita's parents Jim and Frances, couldn't be happier for them both. And for us too. Here's hoping for an easy pregnancy, speedy birth and healthy baby. So far, Danita has just been tired, and Kevin is busy reading the 'So you're pregnant books'.

Lot of love to you both. Actually, both and a bit.

What every girl needs

2008-12-31T09:30:00.017-07:00

What girl doesn't like a nice pair of shoes, better yet a great pair of boots. Soft supple material that molds to your foot, tiny little straps, or if we are talking boots, those sexy lace ups. Of course the perfect heel, a flash of silver, and my heart starts to palpitate. I do love shiny things. I must admit I am more partial to boots rather than shoes. In need of a little 'pick me up' for the New Year we headed out, braving the icy roads and the cold temperature. The drive to Cranbrook, which normally takes 35 minutes, took 50 minutes, but it just seemed to fly by as I dreamed of new boots. I hardly even noticed the snow covered scenery.

Our little town does not have a lot of footwear stores, so the shopping options are limited. But at our first destination I could see incredible possibilities. Looking through the window at all those lovely boots had me drooling over all the choices. I could just visualize myself prancing around in those lovely boots. So, dragging my hubby inside (who could definitely envision me in these boots), we entered this den of temptation. I am pleased to say they had several gorgeous boots in my size, which is unusual. After oohing and ahhing over the various styles, I slipped my feet into these wonderful boots. I strutted around the store to see how gracefully I could stroll in these heels, and of course, seeing which of these incredible boots made me feel and look my best. I could feel the smile on my face, and see the look on my hubby's face too, although I am not sharing that here. Decision made on the boots, I couldn't help but top them off with a great pair of jeans too. Oh, what an ensemble (click here)! I am going to be so hot! 2009 is going to be a great year!

Going down hill fast - in a good way

2008-12-28T10:30:00.010-07:00

The call came at 9 am; lower field, 2 pm, dress warm, prepare to have fun! The Leunenberger's were having a Toboggan party. After the last party they threw, the Summer Car Rally, I knew we were in for a good time.

The bonfire had been lit, the coffee and soup were on, the neighbours were all arriving in their 4x4s, and the hill had been groomed. From the top the hill sure looked steep. A slight twist and few obstacles, rocks and trees, were going to make for a thrilling slide. Then the toboggans arrived: a home made wooden sled that looked like a skid on tracks; a traditional wooden toboggan; a Bull River custom toboggan; and a more comfortable skidoo slider.

Almost everyone got in a few runs, including me, before the 'competition' began. Novice (read chicken) that I am, I went with the Skidoo slider. I got my runs in just as dusk was falling. I wanted to make sure there was enough light left to pick up my battered broken body should I hit one of the obstacles. My first run ended in a creative finish for which I received a round of applause for my flip off the slider onto my back. Such finesse. On my second run, as I lay face down on this crazy slider, I just managed to avoid the tree. Okay, that's enough sliding fun for me I decided, it's getting dark.

But the competition had just begun and many more runs were made down the hill by various single sliders and teams. Strategies such as additional weight, body positioning, aerodynamic hats and 'bobsled' style starts (running, flying leaps onto the sled) were used to try for the longest run. When it was so dark we couldn't see the sliders coming, trucks were repositioned to light the hill. No doubt the headlights blinded the sliders, but that just added to the challenge for them. I am not sure who the 'official' winners were but a lot of laughs were had.

Thanks everyone for a great afternoon.

The snow fairies laughed

2008-12-26T21:47:00.008-07:00

To all my friends and family on the coast, the storm that hit you, arrived in Bull River on Christmas Eve. It snowed for about 36 hours but we only accumulated about another ten inches of dry fluffy snow. On Boxing Day, while Gary went off to run an errand I donned his fireman boots (my boots were too short) and went for a tramp around the neighborhood with my camera. I shuffled, in the too big boots, down the hill and over to the Big Horn Sheep conservancy hoping to catch them out in the field. The sheep must have heard me coming because they were way, way in the back. I snapped a few pictures looking up east up the Bull and towards the hill where our home is. You can't see the house as it is well hidden by all the trees.

I was having such a good time, enjoying the -8 weather that I wandered up the forest service road instead of heading back to the house, stopping now and then to listen to the sounds of the forest, enjoying all the beauty around me, snapping a pic or two. Soft 'whooshes' could be heard as the snow tumbled from the heavily laden trees in mini avalanches. I told myself, 'don't stand under the trees'. Well, I got distracted snapping a few more photos, when wouldn't you know it, 'whoosh' down came the snow on top of me. I am sure the snow fairies were laughing, I know I was.

Silence can be so loud

2008-12-23T16:41:00.014-07:00

The mercury shot up to -10 C yesterday; perfect time for a walk in our winter wonderland. -10 here is quite bearable, quite a change from the bone chilling -2 C temps of the coast and slushy, soggy stuff we called snow. In Bull River we have squeaky snow; I have never heard snow squeak so loudly! You have no chance on sneaking up on any wildlife in the snow here.

We headed up the hill on the forest service road. The winter scenery is stunning. You see so many more things when all the shrubs and trees are bare. Such things as the four legged critters which may have been more camouflaged in the bush. Even with all our squeaking yesterday we did come across a herd of 40 or so elk. The elk kept their distance, which is good, because apparently they can be quite aggressive. It is very interesting trying to identify all the various animal tracks in the snow. Guessing, is that a cougar or a bobcat; a coyote, wolf or just the neighbour's dog; are those tracks deer or elk. The mice, squirrels, voles and birds leave very interesting little trails too.

The silence when you stop walking is so intense. How silence can be so loud I am not sure, but it is. By the time we had gone about 3.5 km we were starting to feel the cold (our cheeks were getting a little stiff) so headed home. In total, the loop we did was about 5 km. Not bad for a shuffle in the squeaky snow. Now, to sit by the fire and warm up with a nice glass of red wine.

Local Wildlife

2008-12-19T17:06:00.000-07:00

It is amazing what we find living right here in our backyard. This rural environment makes it seem like the surrounding 5 square miles is 'my backyard'. Most days we see the deer as they nibble on my garden (even in the winter they are still eating the leaves off the apple tree). The elk we only see occasionally and the big horn sheep only when it gets cold and snowy. On our return from 'town' today we spotted a herd of Big Horn Sheep in the community baseball field. There were several ewes and few of the big guys with the curly horns, the rams. Those horns are quite something. Had me wishing for a good telephoto lens to get up close, their faces have a lot of personality.

Another bit of wildlife I have been learning about are the birds. I put a bird feeder outside our dining room window and enjoy watching the wide variety of birds that come for their meals. Lots of chickadees, nuthatches, downy woodpeckers and sometimes, blue jays and stellar jays. Along with the birds comes the squirrels who vacuum up the fallen seeds. There is one little squirrel that visits daily that I have named ‘Cheeky Two-Tail’ cause it teases Bailey something awful and its little tail has a funny little tuft coming out of it, like a second tail. The blue jays are a little big for the bird feeder but I love their colours.

So when our neighbour (and artist) Caroline Kelly was showing us some of her unique paintings I just 'had to have' the bluejay. Caroline does all her paintings using rocks or antlers as her canvas. Each one is unique and mostly wildlife based. She searches out just the right rocks, and uses the texture of the rock to bring her paintings to life. They have to be seen. Here is a pic of my blue jay which now hangs just in side my front door. She has many more I would like to buy, but I will have to pace my spending due to the fact that I am a 'stay at home' country wife now. And loving every minute of it.

Building a blog

2008-12-15T16:35:00.000-07:00

After a little encouragement from a few people to build a blog to share our 'Dusty Acres' adventures I have finally put this together. I really don't know what I will write about, but, life's adventures here just seem to happen. These adventures to us are unique and exciting, to others, just plain amusing. I am sure we provide ongoing entertainment for the neighbours, both two and four legged.

The four legged critters have been appearing more regularly lately; a coyote in the backyard, the elk in the back forty, the bighorn sheep across the river, and of course the always present and very hungry deer. The cold seems to bring them down to the lower elevations.

If I can find enough cold weather gear I am going to try and get some pics of the bighorn sheep, but my fingers don't last long in -25 or -30 C temps.

Time to go throw another log on the fire; the geothermal in the house is struggling to keep up, but I am sure cozy here in my studio office. Although, it is a cold dash to the house.