First Snow Fall

It snowed last night. Not a lot, but enough to gather in low places and be swept up against fences by the wind. It is just a skiff, really. It sits and gathers in the long grasses and along the ditches, but not on the road.  It sits on my roof and on the deck, but not in the short grass in my yard.  If it sticks around for the whole day I can consider it the 'First' snow fall. I have rules you know about this sort of thing.  If it snows and it doesn't stick, it doesn't count. If it snows and it sticks, but for less than a day, it doesn't count. So, we shall see how this snow stacks up.

I love fall, as some of you probably know. I just love it. And I love the first snow even more. I love to watch the heavy clouds drift across the sky and watch the sheets of snow fall out of the sky.  I love to wake up in the morning and see snow on the ground.  It is like a tiny little surprise. In fact, when I went out this morning, I looked at the ground and said 'Oh! Snow!' And I was a little bit happy. I think why I love snow so much is because it reminds me of being a kid. It reminds me of how much fun I used to have in winter building forts and snowmen and playing street hockey.  It reminds me that when you are a kid, you don't hate it.  You only start to hate winter when you grow up.  How come?  I encourage everyone to embrace snow this winter. Go out in it. Take a walk in the cold afternoon and listen to the snow crunch on your boot. Listen to the wind in the power line.  Listen to the birds calling to each other in the crisp air.  Watch the sun shine off the snow crystals.  Marvel at the hoar frost on a fence, on a tree, on the antenna of your car.  Winter is beautiful. You just have to know how to look at it.

Gone in 60 Seconds....Or Less

On Tuesday this week I was in High River harvesting vegetables out of my garden.  The man's mom has a half acre garden plot on her acreage, so this year we shared it.  So on Tuesday I was out there, enjoying the sunshine, picking beans and peas, digging some carrots and some potatoes and picking raspberries.  The weather that day said there was a chance of thundershowers in the afternoon. No big deal, since it is summer now and that happens often in the afternoon.  We picked our produce and chatted and we commented on how wonderful the garden looked this year.  I thought I might even get some corn and pumpkins since we have had a warm summer.  I looked to the north and saw a thunderstorm blowing in.  It took a few hours.  By the time it arrived, my mother in law and I were shelling peas in the shade of the house and drinking ginger ale.  It was a great day!  As we sat there the clouds started to rumble and some lightening was seen.  We thought we would have a good amount of time to shell peas. We were wrong.  The storm came boiling out of the north with a violnet wind.  We grabbed our peas and bowls and ran into the house.  At first the storm was just rain and wind, with some lightening and thunder.  Suddenly we heard a bang on the sky light in the kitchen.  I looked out the front window and there was marble sized hail coming sideways out of the sky.  The rain and hail mix drowned out the sound of thunder and obscured the lightening.  The hail just kept coming, getting heavier and heavier, louder and louder.  The house started to shake and we had to yell at each other to be heard.  Then suddenly, it was all over.  The storm blew over and the sun started to come out.  I looked out the back window and saw my garden. Or what was left of it.  My corn was broken in half, all of my vegetables were pulverized into the mud.  There were no leaves left on the sunflowers.  In other words, my garden was done for the year.  All I have left now is potatoes and carrots, because they are underground.  Sigh. Sometimes gardening on the prairie can be so heart breaking.
In other news, a shop down the road was struck by lightening. Here are some pictures:

Close Encounters of the Wild Kind....Update

I read the local rag today.  On page 11 I saw a familiar face.  Except, instead of this face being alive like last time I saw it, today it was dead.  I am talking about the wolf.  The article goes on to say that this wolf, thought to be a Beta male between two and three, was shot in the back with a shotgun and crawled into a farmer's dog house to die.  He was a lone wolf, trying to make a go of it out of his element, on the prairie.
I have to admit I am not surprised he is dead, but I am sad.

The Flies Have Landed

It is summer and I have flies everywhere.  And I am not just talking about outside.  I have flies everywhere INSIDE my house.  I don't have a screen door, so in the evening, when it is cool I open the back door to let in cool air...and flies.  I have fly strips up in the living room, in the kitchen and in the bathroom.  You know those sticky ones that are oh so classy.  I feel like I should be running one of those low class diners you see in movies that signal a red-neck town.  I imagine a conversation between a sun burned man wearing a ball cap perched on top of his, flannel shirt, even though it is plus a billion, jeans and ropers and the salty, bleached haired waitress that has seen and heard it all.

Scene 24: Interior. Mid day on a hot August afternoon. FLIES buzz and get stuck to fly strips.  The pie rotator thing squeaks in the background. Old timey country tunes play softly in the background from a beat up radio perched on an even more beat up shelf on the wall.  The sun filters through dusty venetian blinds pulled over dirty windows.  A fan lazily turns the air.  The smell of coffee and grease permeats the establishment. In the front of the room is a little opening where the kitchen is just visible.  A long counter runs north-south, with wear spots in front of all the stools.  The stools have ripped vinyl seats. A salty bleached haired waitress in a stained pistachio green outfit leans on the counter, snapping her gum. Enter local red neck.

Red Neck: Howdy Darlene. It shore is a hot one out there today.  Whatcha got for a man's parched throat? (Sits at a stool)
Darlene: We got the same thing we got everyday Wyatt.  Coffee, water, soda. It ain't changed since yesterday. (sighs and snaps gum)
Wyatt: I'll take a coffee then. (Removes sweat stained ball cap.) You shore do got a lot a dem flies in here. I think you got more'n here than there is on the outside.
Darlene:  They come in through the door. We don't got a screen, so they jest fly on in here.
Wyatt: Mebbe you should invest ina screen door.
Darlene: We got fly strips. It's cheaper.
Wyatt: I can see you got at least three o' them.  You find they do the job ok? 
Darlene: Wyatt, I ain't got time to think on the effectiveness of a fly strip. They are there. Flies stick to 'em. What do I care how effective they is or ain't?
Wyatt: (hand up in surrender) Now, now, don't get your panties in a bunch. I was just makin' conversation.
Darlene: (epic sigh, eye roll) You want some pie with that coffe or no?
Wyatt: Yep. Pie an coffee souns just about perfect. What kind?
Darlene: (walks over to pie turner thing) chocolate, lemon, rhubarb.
Wyatt: Lemon.
Darlene: (cuts slice, and chucks it on a plate. Throws it down in front of Wyatt) You want whipped topping?
Wyatt: Shore.
Darlene: (squirts some whipped topping on the pie)
Wyatt: (Picks up fork, stabs piece of pie. As he brings it to mouth, it is engulfed in flies. He throws down his fork, puts on his hat, gets up to leave and says) I think you need to think on the effectiveness of them fly strips.  (Walks to the door, opens it. A million flies come in. Door closes.  Restaurant is empty.)
Darlene: Damn you flies!

Too Much No

First off, I would like to appologize for the lack of posts lately.  I have to admit I have been hibernating inside since it has been so hot.  I am not a fan of summer...at all. I count the days till fall and winter.  I know, I know. I am crazy. But I don't do hot very well.
Anyway, on with today's post.
A few months ago, in a town near here there was a controversy.  A large company wanted to open a waste transfer area.  It would have brought jobs into the area they said and it would have been a place where recycling of industrial waste would occur.  Well, the town freaked out. Some were for it, some were against it.  Many months went by of debates, public meetings, letters to the editor, friend against friend.  Personally, I did and still do not have an opinion either way.  So the people who were against 'the dump' as they called it, starting putting signs up on fence posts that bordered the highway.  Now, I am not against signs or stating your opinion, but these signs made me crazy every time I drove by them.  I will tell you what was on them.
First, the back ground was white.  In black letters were the words 'No Dump.'  Fine, that's all good.  Next was a red circle around the words, with a red line THROUGH the words.  Now, correct me if I am wrong, but does the red circle and line denote the idea of 'no'?
So theoretically these signs were saying 'No No Dump.'  That's a double negative.  It's like Homer Simpson saying 'I'm not NOT licking toads.' Which in his case he WAS licking toads.  So does the sign say,  'Yes, come to us dump, we love you!'  I don't know.  The signs made me mental.  I wanted to shout 'Pick the circle and the line, or the word 'no' but not both! It's redundant!' Gah! Whoever thought of the signs really needed to understand the red circle and the line.  Or....and this just occured to me, maybe those who were not in favour of the dump were so passionate about it, they needed to say 'no' twice, to really hammer their point home.  I don't know. It is all too much for me, these 'No No Dump' signs.
And to make matters worse, they are still around, even though the dump was not approved.  I wonder if people think if the signs are taken down, the dump will sneak back, like a thief in the night.  And when everyone wakes up in the morning, there it is!! Oh my goodness! How did that get there! I KNEW we should have left the 'No No Dump' signs up! Look what has happened! This stupid dump has snuck right back into our community!
I don't know....do you?

Mystery Bug...Or Not...Solved!

So it was a Mormon Cricket....here is the official email! Cool!
Subject: RE: Bugs!

Nice shots!

This totally NOT () ooky specimen is a female mormon cricket, Anabrus simplex.  Not a whole lot is known about them.  However, in very high densities (documented in several places in the northwestern states and Canada), these things can become a serious agricultural pest (and even a safety hazard on roads).  There are a variety of colour morphs (seemingly triggered by population density) including black, brown and green and I have even seen red and purple.  Solitary individuals are almost always green or purple, but in big numbers (swarm years) they are usually black or brown.  That giant “stinger” on the back end is actually her ovipositor - harmless.  They are wingless, heavily armored and slow walkers-capable of traveling up to two km in a day.

Anyway, thanks for sending the pics!

Tyler
Tyler Cobb, PhD
Curator, Invertebrate Zoology
Director, Processing Centre, Alberta Biodiversity Monitoring Institute
Royal Alberta Museum
12845 - 102nd Ave
Edmonton, AB, CANADA
T5N 0M6
Ph (780) 453-9197
Fx (780) 454-6629
http://www.royalalbertamuseum.ca
http://www.abmi.ca

Mystery Bug...Or Not

Yesterday I was haying my yard...haha. Kidding. I was mowing it, but it was so long that it felt like haying.  I don't have a mower right now (long story).  So ANYWAY, I was mowing the yard.  I went past one of my trees and out hopped something. At first I thought it was a frog since it was sort of big and green.  I turned off the PTO, turned off the mower and got off.  I followed the thing through the now short grass.  It stopped hopping.  I looked at it.  It was not a frog, in fact it wasn't even an amphibian.  It was a grasshopper sort of thing.  There are some pictures of it up there.
I had no idea what it was, so this morning I sent the pictures to my friend who works at Royal Alberta Museum in Edmonton to see if she could get the entomology guys to figure it out.  So while I am waiting I tell my husband that I sent the pictures off and he asks me why I didn't just Google it.  I said I wouldn't know how to start.....Google 'grasshopper thingy' or 'grasshopper thingy with stinger butt'? (which isn't actually a stinger, but an ovipositor...so maybe the mystery bug is a GIRL!!) I didn't know.  So he punched in some search terms on his Smartphone and 25 pages of images later he announces it is a Mormon Cricket.  I looked up Mormon Cricket and it looks pretty similar.  I am still going to wait to see if it is confirmed by the professionals with the letters after their names.  Apparently the Mormon Cricket (which is not actually a cricket, but a shieldbacked katydid) is called the Mormon cricket because it swarmed around the time the first Mormon settlement happened in Utah.  A flock of seagulls is said to have eaten them all (the crickets, not the Mormons) and saved the settlement from starvation.  So....last week I saw a wolf type thing and this week is a cricket! This has been an interesting summer so far!

Slavery In the Modern World

Today I want to take some time to bring something to my few readers that is important to me.  I will try not to be preachy in my blog, so just give me this one day.  I want to talk about child slavery.  Yes, slavery. It still exists in our modern age.
I support a child in India through World Vision.  Now, regardless of how you feel about World Vision itself, please take the time to read what I have to say here and to check out the links I have posted.  I am not expecting you to do anything through World Vision, I am simply asking you to educate yourself about child slavery and trafficking and learn how it can affect you in Canada.
Many children are stuck in 3D jobs: dirty, degrading and dangerous. Some fast facts about trafficking and slavery:

An estimated 1.2 million children are trafficked each year for labour and sexual exploitation, according to the International Labour Organization (2002).2
Forms of trafficking include sexual exploitation, forced labour, domestic slavery, forced marriage, organ removal, and exploiting children by involving them in begging and war.

Trafficking brokers often have the same nationality as their victims. This allows them to use local connections, to win trust, and if a victim resists, to threaten his or her family.

Some links that explain the different ways children are working in industry:
http://voices.worldvision.ca/wp-content/themes/wv-advocacy/resources/WorldVision-Africa-ChildMiners.pdf
http://voices.worldvision.ca/wp-content/themes/wv-advocacy/resources/WorldVision-Asia-ChildTrafficking.pdf
http://voices.worldvision.ca/wp-content/themes/wv-advocacy/resources/WorldVision-Asia-ChildSexExploitation.pdf

Please also read this on how you can help, if you choose:
http://voices.worldvision.ca/wp-content/themes/wv-advocacy/resources/Help-Wanted-Overview.pdf

How you can help locally:
-buy Fair Trade, use this website to find goods that are Fair Trade: www.fairtrade.ca
- www.goodguide.com  which rates products and companies on their effects on the environment, social performance and health risks.

More information can be found here:   http://voices.worldvision.ca/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/Shopping-for-Change-resource-docx.pdf

Thanks for listening and reading.  I hope that we can end child slavery/exploitation one day.

A Whole Lotta Yellow

On Tuesday I was on my way to town. I pick one day a week and save up all my shopping and other town chores for that day. It saves on gas and time. I chose Tuesday because that afternoon I was going to donate blood. So anyway, as I was saying, I was on my way to town on Tuesday. It was really foggy, and it kind of reminded me of the time I lived in Ireland. The fog there was hardly ever just fog. It usually had some mist attached to it, but to the uninitiated it was just fog. How quickly I discovered otherwise. One morning I was waiting for the bus. No big deal. Except that in Ireland the 'schedule' is really just a suggestion of time.  I waited and thought how lovely the fog looked that morning. Heavy and kind of soft.  I waited some more.  I felt sort of wet.  I waited longer and got wetter.  I couldn't figure out how I was getting wet in the fog. It was FOG after all.  Eventually the bus arrived.  By that time I was soaked. My hair was sticking to my head and my backpack was heavy. Ok, so anyway that was the kind of fog it was on Tuesday.  Rainy-fog.  The landscape was obscured, the lines blurred.  AS I turned a corner on the highway, the fog lifted and I glimpsed a patch of pure sunshine.  There, in a field was a blast of yellow, a pure canola yellow.  It was beautiful, and ethereal against a backdrop of misty grey.
I think canola is my favorite crop, next to flax.  Canola is so yellow and happy.  It is a welcome colour after winter.  Last year, I saw a field of canola right next to a field of flax. Yellow on blue. It was amazing.  I think I should carry my camera from now on.

House Cleaning? Who Does THAT!?

I am trying to get the motivation to clean my house. As of today, that important factor eludes me.   My house, such as it is, is only 850 square feet. That's right. About as big as a garage.  Apparently I have never been a big fan of cleaning. My mom tells me I used to get overwhelmed by my room as a kid.  So I have an excuse.....right. I think mostly I am good at making excuses. Today's: It was cool out so I baked some cookies before it gets hot again.  Following that logic I should also have cleaned as that means I wouldn't get so sweaty. Whatever. Cookies are more fun.  I also had to get cat food. And write my blog.  And weed my garden (I did that yesterday).  And, and, and. Blech. Lots of times I have thought of hiring it out, but then I am embarrassed that I can't clean my own house....ESPECIALLY when I clean my mom's as well.  But in my defence I get paid to do that house.  I think what I will have to do is have kids. Really, that's all there is to it.  I can give them 'chores' to do, and voila! House clean! And for free!
But since that is not going to happen before Friday, I should probably get crack-a-lackin and do it myself...again.

You're Doing it All Wrong

I live on three acres that were subdivided off of a quarter section (160 acres).  The hundred and fifty seven acres that are left sit behind my house.  It belongs to a friend of mine's family.  Every year this family rents the field to farmers in the area to be hayed.  The farmer hays the field and pays my friend's family based on the number of bales that are made.  Every year we have lived here, except for this one, the same guy has hayed the field.  He was very efficient.  He would cut it, then rake it, and then bale it. One, two, three, just like that. 
This year, we have someone new. Or someones.  I can't really tell how many people actually rented this field.  When the field was started, it was a guy on a little tractor with no roof, and he had a mower-conditioner.  He started one day last week when it was blazing hot and worked for awhile then left.  That was understandable, since it was so hot.  So this went on for a number of days. Sometimes he would arrive at 10pm and start cutting.  Then one day, there was a big fire in the field as they were burning old bales.  That day, there were four trucks here and no work was done.  I think someone brought hot dogs, maybe some marshmallows.
Then suddenly, all the hay was cut and it layed in the field for a day to dry.  The next day, a baler showed up attached to the little tractor with no roof.  The baler went around and around and pooped out bales every so often.  In the evening, a new tractor with a brand new New Holland baler showed up.  This tractor had a cab, and I assume air conditioning.  The baler made square bales, instead of round ones.  The next day, the little tractor with no roof was out baling, but the fancy one sat there all day in the sweltering heat.  In the evening, the new tractor fired up and went around the field and made square ones. 
A few days ago, someone came with a truck and a trailer and picked up all the square bales and left all the round ones.  On this particular day, the air was very still.  The tractor with no roof and the round baler went out to the far end of the field, followed by the truck.  The tractor started putting bales on the truck.  Suddenly a voice yelled 'You're doing it all WRONG! Put it down! Put it DOWN! F***!' A quarter section is 1/2 mile by 1/2 a mile (about 1km).  I heard this voice from 1/2 a mile away. The truck stopped running. There was silence.  Eventually the truck fired up again and drove back to the entrance of the field.
Today, all the round bales are in the field, as well as ALL the tractors and balers.  I still don't know how many people actually worked that field.

Close Encounters of the Wild Kind

Yesterday morning I woke up and thought to myself  'what am I going to write about today?' I already mentioned the intense heat, I am going to be gone all day crocheting with some friends (yes I crochet), and that's my day.'  I didn't want to write about something so boring, so I thought about just not writing.  I went upstairs to shower.  I was in the shower, washing my hair and I happened to look out the window that faced east.  I saw a creature standing in the grass.  It was a large, black, dog like creature.  It was tall.  It was feral.  I shouted 'What the heck is that? Dale, Dale come look at this!'  My husband came running into the bathroom, whipped back the shower curtain and stared. 'What?' He said. I told him to look out the window, not at me.  He looked, and decided it was a dog. I disagreed, so he went out to call it.  While he was on his way to the front door, the creature looked at me, and I knew it wasn't a dog.  Dale called to it and it whipped its head in his direction and then took off into the field.  It loped away, they turned and looked back, then loped a bit further and turned and looked back again, then ran away.  I got out of the shower, ate and booted up the computer. Dale left for work.  I looked up pictures of German Shepherds and wolves.  I wanted it to be a dog because I live in Southern Alberta and wolves are unheard of here.  I called Fish and Wildlife.  I talked to them for a bit and descrived what I saw.  They told me they were glad I called, because they had reports of the same thing near a town about 15 kilometres from where I live.  They wrote down my legal land description and said they were going to track its movements in the county.  They thought it might be a wolf-dog hybrid, and reminded me of the wolf-dog that had wandered around the countya few years ago, until a farmer shot it.  That animal was sent in for DNA testing, and had its picture in the paper. 
So there you have it, on a day where nothing was supposed to happen, I saw something pretty cool!

The First Day

Today is an auspicious day to start a new blog.  It is 34 degrees celsius, and it feels like a thousand.  My dogs are downstairs, sleeping on the cement.  I am upstairs with the fan pointed directly at me, and it barely cuts it.  It is 28 degrees in my house.  I needed something to do inside, since I am not a creature of summer. I count the days until fall and then until winter.  I will admit it, I love winter.  I don't know why, maybe I am crazy, but I think it is because I love all the layers I can wear in winter.  In summer, you can only take off so much, in the winter, you can add until your heart is content.
So I guess I am using this new blog to talk a bit about where I live and the wonders of the seasons on the Prairie and the things I see in my everyday life that I think might be worth sharing.
I invite you to join me on this journey.