It was almost Spring last week (or as the locals reminded me) it was our “first Spring” last week.
The 2016 Spring equinox was, for us, yesterday, March 19 at 10:30 p.m. CST.
This is a simple fact that we in Saskatchewan are reminded of every year. Our weather is very paradoxical.
Here is this week’s equinoxical weather in pictures.
On Monday, we were almost down to brown ground and budding trees. The Lake of Four Corners (from last week’s post) had become a Lake of Two Corners.
On March 11th, though I could see no brown out front yet, my front steps were bare and dry. This tree had enough snow to reach out and smoosh into one giant snowball. Beware the Ents, my friends!
On March 14th, we were in the city which had been completely dry up to this point. On Tuesday, the city got a sciff (ie a small amount) of snow. Here snow sits lightly on the benches.
Back home, two hours north, they measured the new snow in inches. Enough snow that I would spend an hour shoveling when I got back home on Friday.
This is Spring in Saskatchewan. Snow. Melt. Ice. Snow. Repeat.
The Spring Equinox has come and gone. It is time for the snow to go!
Today’s post is brought to you by the Letters:
SH, I, N, E, S & H…
And the number 5!
I miss watching Sesame Street.
It is, in my opinion, the best place to learn the alphabet!
Today, September 19th, is Talk Like A Pirate Day.
Para Abnormal Comic by Dave Lowe
Pirates were my first love then came cowboys. I yearned for wide, open spaces free from the conflict of the reality of school where I was tolerated or ignored. I wanted someone to rescue me and pirates seemed most up to the task. I wouldn’t have to make a decision. I could be kidnapped by a handsome, devilish rogue instead. It didn’t matter that I lived on the prairies about as far from the sea as one could get. It didn’t matter that pirates weren’t real (at least as far as I knew – we only got local news back before the internet told us everything we didn’t want to know)!
Pirates were handsome. Pirates were rogues. Pirates were devilish. They may be unkempt but were never smelly. They may be thieves but they had honor. A pirate code was a code of conduct for governing pirates. The pirates would draw up their own code which provided rules for discipline, division of stolen goods, and compensation for injured pirates. They took care of their own and once kidnapped, I would belong somewhere. I would be with people who wanted to be with me. (Lets just ignore rule six for now shall we)!
I’ve always been a sucker for devilish rogues with questionable morals. Rhett Butler is the man with the plan in Gone With the Wind. He knows what he wants and goes for it. Never mind the fact that I would run from a real man who acted like he did. I’d make him walk the plank and send him far away from me right quickly.
Though if he spoke to me like this, I think I would possibly swoon. Le sigh…
Dear Scarlett! You aren’t helpless. Anyone as determined and selfish as you are is never helpless. God help the Yankees if they should get you. — Rhett Butler to Scarlett O’Hara
I want a man who sees me as strong and capable well also loving me passionately!
Oh, Christian, why do you always play such bad, bad boys?
Who wouldn’t love a man whose best friends are monkeys and parrots?
And such monikers they had – Blackbeard, Bluebeard, Calico Jack!
“This heres me man, Calico Jack!”
They winter on tropical islands. They have adventures that require scavenger hunts and treasure maps. They have plenty of money to shower you with gowns and jewels. Their treasure chests contain numerous pieces of eight!
X marks what spot?
Okay, do I want to ensnare a pirate’s heart or do I want to be a pirate
like Anne Bonny and Mary Read?
Remember talk like a pirate today and
follow me, follow me away to the sea!
Or is it Old Man Winter I should rail at!
Spring was sprung!
Spring was finally here. The grass was starting to green. The birds were waking me up with their early morning sing song. All was as it should be.
Then BOOM! Winter walked back in the door.
It snowed all day yesterday. Big wet fluffy snowflakes perfect for snow people and snow balls.
Old Man Winter and Mother Nature would have got pelted with many snowballs if they had dared to show their faces around here yesterday.
Perhaps they were upset because I forgot all about Earth Day on Wednesday.
Perhaps they just like to mess with me.
I breathed a sigh of relief when the ground stayed brown on my birthday and so they sent the snow to my big sister instead to ruin her birthday party.
Well, the joke’s on them. We’re not celebrating till next weekend when it will be brown again (it might even be green).
The snow turned to rain over night (messy, messy, brrr).
The temperatures continue to rise.
Still, not cool, Old Man Winter and Mother Nature!
The big question on everyone’s mind right now is “Will this Winter ever end?” The answer is no. No, this Winter will never end. We have entered the next phase in the Earth’s evolution and it is Winter. As of April 1, 2015 we will have started the next Ice Age! According to Dr. David Suzuki “We (humans) have altered the physical, chemical and biological properties of the planet on a geological scale. We have left no part of the globe untouched.” Thus, we have only ourselves to blame for this new ice age and endless winter. One only has to look at the weather patterns to observe the depressing ever-changing weekly weather forecast. Next week we will have: Rain Sun Sun Rain Snow or will we have Sun Cloud Cloud Rain Snow. The only constant is Snow. The Snow will never leave. The Snow will never melt. All we will remember from now on is Snow. In the decades to come, Boston’s 110 inches will be hardly note worthy and Mississippians will be able, like the rest of us, to build snow forts year round as we all learn to love Winter. After all, we Canadians have always known that it is possible to survive the ice, the cold, and never-ending Winter. Bring it Ice Age! Wear layers. Cover your face. Leave no skin exposed. Completely disregard fashion. Winter can be fun! The only thing we know for sure is that the new Ice Age is upon us. It’s time to learn how to enjoy Winter or get use to never, ever going anywhere again.
It’s time to stop arguing before this article becomes truth. Have a good April Fools’ Day everyone!
Well, that depends on how you format your dates – month, day, year in this case. According to my computer (bought here in Canada) I’ll never celebrate Pi day as my format appears to be day, month, year! As we all know, there are never 14 months in a year so I’ll never have the opportunity to celebrate Π.
However, both date types are used in Canada – in French and in English and it seems, the default date format used by Microsoft Windows for English Canada for all-numeric dates (short-dates) is DD/MM/YYYY.
So, I guess I’ll have to either celebrate Albert Einstein’s birthday instead or set my computer to display my dates in the month, day, year format! I could do the later because, it seems, both formats are perfectly A-Ok here in Canada.
Pi day is, of course, celebrated by math enthusiasts around the world and even celebrated by math phobics like myself.
By making pie of course.
I plan to bake myself a cheesecake pie!
Is cheesecake pie?
Is cheesecake cake?
Does cake need to be iced?
Can a cheesecake be considered a pie only when it is round?
What is pie?
According to Google, a pie is “a baked dish of fruit, or meat and vegetables, typically with a top and base of pastry.”
Oh dear, nothing about cheese!
And according to this Google search, pies must have a crust and my most favourite pie to eat is crust-less, meringue-less, Lemon Meringue pie! Okay, I’ll admit this is just a lemon pudding and not pie but damn, it is tasty.
Celebrate Pi day with pie or with anything else circular.
I hate basements. No, I’m not sure hate is a strong enough word.
I loathe basements! If I built my own house it would not have a basement. As it is, I only go into my current basement to do laundry as that is where the basement appliances live. Well, at least until I get too old to handle stairs and can afford to move these appliances upstairs.
So, to recap … basements ughh! Basements bad!
I grew up in a house with a tiny, claustrophobic dirt basement. Basically, it was a hole in the ground with a house atop it. It was accessed through the kitchen. Down there was the washing machine and various jars with glutinous forms glowing in the basement’s dim light. Here we stored the summer garden’s bounty (in jars and pits) to get us through the winter. We were poor, we canned everything we could – my mother’s mother even canned chicken as she had grown up (of course) before refrigeration and knew how to do this. Canned chicken is good eating!
The farm houses my grandparents lived in also had claustrophobic dirt basements. We never went in them. When they moved, their new houses had bigger cement basements that aspired to be rec/wreck rooms for the grandchildren to play in – we were too old by then to be really interested in hanging out downstairs as the gossip upstairs was always more interesting.
That first basement was avoided at all costs but on occasion I had to go down and fetch something for supper. There were salamanders and worms and spiders down there. There was a noisy, child eating wringer washing machine down there. I knew that washing machines ate children because my best friend missed half of kindergarten when their machine sucked her tiny arm through the wringer.
The basement was dark. It was damp. The light was turned on with a pull chain and you had to go all the way down the stairs to do this. If someone closed the door before you got there you couldn’t see anything at all. Many times, someone closed the door.
Someone, hah. Siblings – older sisters and younger brother – don’t we all have them!
They weren’t mean just sadistic as all children (me included) tend to be. I’m sure all of us, Gandhi included, have shut an annoying sibling up somewhere dark and noisy and scary! Though dark and quiet and scary is no picnic either!
Dark and scary. Dark and scary amidst scurrying spiders, revolting reptiles and supposed ghosts. With only a steep staircase between you and escape – no windows anywhere and why can you never find the light string when you need it most. Stupid siblings.
Why couldn’t I be an only child? But then I’d have had nobody to play with and during a tornado I’d have to hide in the basement with only a frog for a friend. I read, in a book about the Depression, about a farm child who only had a frog to play with. The frog laid quietly on its back and let her dress it in a tiny doll dress. Is this normal frog behaviour or was the frog shell-shocked by the tornado and just glad to be somewhere safe out of the wind and rain and this giant thing was, at least, trying to keep it warm and here it (the frog) thought contently “at least, I am warm and safe in this tiny, dark basement!”
My half-siblings didn’t have a basement. They lived in a trailer. A crowded, shaky trailer. What would they do if a tornado happened by? Where would they be safe from big, strong winds? Would they blow away like Dorothy did? I guess, a basement can be useful for some things. Like for hiding in. Unless you’re in a horror movie.
Do not hide in an old stone and dirt basement with only one exit if you’re ever in a horror movie. Okay! Got that!
So, to recap – basements are bad! I loathe them!
But, they can also be useful for hiding in but not if your life tends to impersonate a horror movie.
Okay, maybe, basements aren’t 100% loathsome! Maybe just 95% loathsome.
I still prefer not to have one.
February’s posts were inspired by the Ray Bradbury Noun List. I hope you enjoyed them.
Photos taken by iPhone before and after candlelight service Christmas eve day and night. Santa was not spotted because he was very busy elsewhere. 😉
The hoar-frost was thick on the trees it being a typical winter so far. Snow – warm – snow – too darn cold.
There are a couple of inches of hoar-frost everywhere. The furthur you travel into the country the thicker it is.
The sky was an eerie twilight blue all afternoon tinting my pictures in nostalgic terms. I longed to be elsewhere. Elsewhere in time. I longed for the past.
Were those jingle bells that I heard echoing from the past off some long forgotten sleigh? Who travels where? Who travels when?
Shh, you’ll wake the moose.
One snowy white night, a little girl with a red scarf enters the woods with a basket. But she’s not visiting grandmother and she won’t meet a big bad wolf. What will the little girl find in the woods…?
I Am Not Little Red Riding Hood
by Alessandro Lecis
Ills. by Linda Wolfsgruber
Translated from the German by Talia Rebecca Ergas
New York: Sky Pony Press, 2013
Orginal title: Ich bin nicht Rotkäppchen!
This week’s synchronicitic find (see above):
by Helen Docherty
Ills. by Thomas Docherty
UK: Alison Green Books, 2013