July Hike

Today Terry and I hiked in the J.J. Collett Natural Area near Lacombe, AB.  Our hiking partners, Grant and Marg Sharp, Suzanne's parents, introduced us to the 635 acres set aside for hiking and outdoor education.   The area is classified as Aspen Parkland, a mixture of shrubs, aspen trees, white spruce, on moist, shady hillsides, and open meadows. 
Marg and Terry stride along in front of me as we set off.  We had to keep moving because the mosquitoes wanted to share our blood.  My Young Living citronella oil kept them away from me, as I wore shorts instead of covering my legs.

Bluebells, or Harebells

 Here are some of the flowers I snapped.

Alberta's provincial flower, the Wild Rose

 

Brown-Eyed Susan- Gaillardia

Mountain Daisy?

Northern Bedstraw

Twin-flower

Bunchberry- Dwarf Dogwood

Best of all, was the enormous moose I heard crashing through the underbrush!  Fortunately we didn't meet him on the path, but we stared at each other through the trees.  What looks like sticks above his head is really a huge rack of antlers.

We got our exercise today with 6.6 km, over 11,000 steps, and climbed the equivalent of 25 flights of stairs.  I think the day's high was 23 degrees C.  A satisfying hike!

Double Birthday Date

Terry and I found ourselves taking both boys out on their birthday lunch date at the same time, since that helped their mother as she went to her exercise class with the two girls. Matteo is turning eight, and Elliston, six, within two days of each other.

The boys didn't seem to mind, and enjoyed their lunch at Fatburger.  Matteo and I had been debating for weeks as to what we should do on the birthday date. After all sorts of crazy suggestions such as going to Calaway amusement park, (a bit out of Terry's and my comfort zone) I was relieved that having a Dairy Queen Blizzard [swirled ice cream with different additives] sounded exciting.

So after lunch, Dairy Queen it was. Never mind that it wasn't ice cream weather!








The boys were very keen on going to our place to finish building the rest of the Lego sets I had found for them.
"Why do you only have girly Lego?"  asked Elliston.
"That's what I found at the yard sale,"  I replied.
They enjoyed it anyway.  Matteo put together the hairdressing salon in record time.

  It had taken me at least a couple of hours to assemble when I was testing it last winter.
Elliston put together a pink jeep with various accessories.  They were both very good at following what Matteo called the "map", aka the instruction booklet, showing what to do, step by step with pictures.

Meanwhile I was icing the birthday cupcakes.  It was #1 Son's birthday as well.
The boys licked the beaters and were thrilled to each take a cupcake home.

The boys found a couple of other things in Grandma's closet to amuse themselves with.  All too soon it was time to be taken home.

Alas, we forgot to grab the story I was going to read them on the twelve minute ride home.

The next morning, Elliston and I had our traditional birthday morning conversation on FaceTime. This is always a dizzying experience because he carries his mum's phone around, and the image is never just still.
Finally, he shut himself into his closet and said to his siblings,
"Shut the door and let me have some peace to talk."
"What piece is that?"  asked his three year old sister.
Then, wielding his new water gun he told me, "I'm sending you love rays with my gun.  That makes you love me!"
"I love you, anyway, " I replied.

Oh, the life of a grandparent!

Let it snow, but not here

When we got home, one of our jobs was to go through the mail.  There was an envelope from one of my friends with a sticker on the back."Let it snow", it said   I got a kick out of the words she added,  "but not here". 

Don't have to worry about that  I thought, It's the end of April!

Well, this morning it's snowing!  Terry gave a blow-by-blow prediction of the coming snow with his weather app, so we knew it was coming.

Yesterday we drove 48 km to where Baby B [ our little travel trailer] is parked [we can no longer park at the condo] just to drain the water out of the lines.  The temperatures were supposed to plummet to -8° C or something like that, and he was taking no chances with frozen lines.  Been there, done that.

Today at 9:00 am the snow is swirling outside.  Predicted depth is 10 or more cm.  As I looked out the window and turned on the gas fireplace, I thought of an old hymn.  At first it didn't seem to make sense to me,

Fairest Lord Jesus, 

Ruler of all nature....

I'd always thought of the hymn as one extolling beautiful springtime flowers and such. 

Ruler of all nature... Hmm... Yes, He rules all nature.  For some reason we have snow in Alberta at the end of April.  Who knows why.  It makes no sense, but it's a fact.  I'll just have to go with the flow, and not let the weather define me. I may not continue gardening today, but there are plenty of indoor tasks that need attention.

Happy Spring in Alberta!

You in your small corner, and I in mine

When we first started signing up for SOWER projects, we would wait for others to sign up first to avoid the 'dreaded' job of GL (group leader).  Sometimes no one signs up, however, so the two of you find yourselves on a project all alone.
I used to pity those who were in this position. They must be so lonely, I thought.  Isn't one of the points of working for SOWERs to have fellowship with others?  What on earth do they do for three weeks in a remote place?  
Now we find ourselves in a remote place.  We did our duty; we signed up for a place not many go to.  It has been a different project, but the first two weeks have already flown by. There's not much fellowship, nothing to do in this tiny village, nothing much on TV.  I've been surprisingly content, though, reading, working on my writing, even a bit of sewing.

By a babbling brook

It's as if we caught the hosts by surprise, as they scrambled to find something meaningful we could do for them.  Terry managed to be busy to some extent, if you call tending a fire, busy.

This is fellow-shipping, too

After two days of throwing branches into the fire, I said to the secretary,  "I can help you with filing in the office."  She seemed pleased.
The next day I was given a 'small task', which led to days and days of filing.  And I'm still not done.

Today, on our day off, we were driving again, to bird watch, of course.  Early morning fog hung low on the mountains, as we left the canyon, and headed to some marsh two hours away.
"Sing the SOWER song with me", I said to hubby.  I sang a solo.
"It's not a work day, " he defended himself.
"But we have to catch up!" I explained.
That reminded me of singing with my dad in the car when I was four years old as he drove me to preschool. This is one of the songs we sang:

Jesus bids us shine, with a pure, clear light.
Like a little candle, burning in the night.
In this world of darkness, so we must shine...

My dad didn't know this song at first, because he was from a different country, but he liked it, and sang enthusiastically with me.
I never dreamed, at the age of four, that I was being a light to my dad, even though I didn't really know the meaning of the sentences.

Just then the sun broke through the fog in a bright shaft of light. I connected the dots. We were shining in our small corner at the school in the canyon. How thrilled the office staff was when they saw how Terry had tidied and organized one of their little rooms that had become a resting place for all sorts of objects.  They couldn't get over how much better the room looked, and thanked him over and over.

You in your small corner, and I in mine.

Bonus: a picnic outside the car 

As White as Snow

Doing laundry is my favourite household chore. I love the concept of soiled things becoming clean, and seeing the white underwear and socks in neat piles in my drawers. When we were raising our children, I loved to hang my diapers on the clothesline to wave in the fresh spring breeze. When they were dry, each one needed to be folded as well. The clean load would sit on the couch until I had a few moments to fold each diaper into a kite shape.

San Sebastian, Spain, May 2018

My mother taught me to separate clothes into white and coloured before doing laundry. I've kept up this practice for over fifty years. It was important not to get a red sock into a white load, especially if the load was washed in hot water. That happened to me once.

“How do you get your clothes so clean?” asked a friend one day. I realized it was by using good quality laundry soap, and giving the knees of jeans an extra scrub when necessary.

I don't even mind ironing. Maybe it dates back to when I was two years old and received a toy iron for Christmas, the kind that would really heat up when you plugged it in. I promptly ironed my hanky on the tile floor and folded it into quarters. When I was older I graduated to ironing handkerchiefs for real, and even my dad's cotton boxers. I ironed my boys' white uniform shirts weekly because I liked the crisp, smooth look when they went to school.

These days my rigid ideas about laundry have had to relax a bit. I have not packed an iron on our snowbird journeys during the winter months. If we are in a warm and dry place like Arizona, I do string up a clothesline to dry my clothes. A few minutes in the dryer first gets the wrinkles out. I don't iron my husband's handkerchiefs any more, and his underwear is not the kind you iron. The handkerchiefs just get smoothed out and folded. He doesn't seem to mind.

The other day I committed the 'unpardonable sin'. I put my underwear in the the coloured load which included the dirty work jeans! The washers are so huge, I reasoned, and I 'm paying to use them, so why make two tiny loads?  The underwear looked all right when the wash was done. Over time my undies would not be as white as usual, but who cared?

Adapting my laundry practices to the existing conditions is one way of breaking down my stronghold of perfectionism. I still love to have clean and folded laundry, but I won't worry about separating my whites until I'm able to use my own washer.

God says, Though your sins are like scarlet , I will make them as white as snow.  Isaiah 1:18

The Story of a Quilt

"Why don't you design a quilt?"  I was asked after weeks of sewing seams at Gleanings for the Hungry in California, so eventually I did. An abundance of blue shades of fabric were available that needed to be used.  I love blue, so the colours of the pre-cut squares called to me.

Here I am, taking down the squares I had arranged in a random pattern on the wall, where a plastic tablecloth with the flocking side out, hung like a giant flannel board. I have to take them down in order from left to right, and number each row.

I was shown a wonderful method of sewing the squares together, linking them with the same thread, so that you don't have to stop and start at each square. You have to keep your wits about you to remember how to pick up the squares from the table and attach them to each other.




Here are the first two rows to be attached together.

Then when you sew the seams the other way, you have to remember that one seam goes up at the intersection, and the underside seam goes down, or vice-versa. On the next row it's the opposite.  The result is a pattern of nicely nesting seams that presses out flat. 

At a large table covered with short artificial turf, polyester batting is sandwiched between the backing (a Walmart twin sheet) and the finished quilt top. The green turf is to allow you to hear a scratchy sound when you poke the needle through, to make sure it goes through all layers. 

A group of ladies sew a long line of heavy cotton which is cut and knotted into ties in the corners and centre of each square.

I got to pick the colour of the contrasting thread.

After the edges are rolled up and pinned, it's time to bind them permanently by machine.  I hadn't done this before, so with a bit of coaching, I tackled it. It was easier than I expected.

A tag on the corner explains content and washing instructions written in Hebrew.  These quilts are contracted by the Israeli Food Outreach to give to Holocaust survivors in Israel living under the poverty level, and must have the tag visible through the plastic bag the quilt is rolled into.

The finished product

  
Picture the joy as each elderly person is wrapped around the shoulders by a cozy quilt,  and covered with a prayer as well. 

Isn't it interesting that the Holy Spirit is called the Comforter? John 14:16 (KJV)

Is it COLD, or just Cold?

It was going to be cold, the weather man announced in central California.  The overnight low would be -1 Celsius.
Meanwhile, back home in Alberta, it was really cold.  Something like -35 Celsius.

We got caught up in the TV announcer's hype.  The oranges we were keeping cool outside came in.  I put on my bed socks and an extra shirt for the night.  Our little heater ran steadily instead of being turned on in the wee hours.
"Do you think we need to keep the water running?" asked my better half.
"No, we'll just flush the toilet occasionally during the night," I replied.

Around 5:30 am I was wakened by a weird sound, like a huge vibration.  It wasn't the usual early morning traffic noise. What's that?  I tried to analyze it.  Is it the floor heater, straining?  Is it the furnace in the neighbouring trailer?  |Actually it sounded like a helicopter close by.  Oh!  I know!  It's the wind machine in the orchard!  Across the road is an orange orchard, and the sound was the blades whirring, or maybe it was the fan, that sucks up the rising warm air over the orange trees, so the blossoms don't freeze.

The orange orchard across the road

All of a sudden, this "cold" wasn't so amusing any longer.  It's was a question of someone's livelihood.

Interesting how perspective changes everything.

Orchards surround the Gleanings for the Hungry base