Happy Holidays Everyone!

It's been a privilege to meet you all this year.

Looking forward to more in 2010!

It is in the shelter of each other that the people live. ~Irish Proverb

 

Peace To All!

The Grey Goose Chase

Last year I received a Vodka Set for Christmas. I suspect it was a re-gift. I considered passing it along, but couldn't decide who to give it to, or more importantly...why.

You see, the concept and purpose of the Vodka Set completely escaped me. 

I imagined myself stuffing a slender wedge of lime into one of those teeny weeny little glasses, perhaps even some crushed ice. Conceivably - I may have also managed to dribble a few drops of vodka in as well.

But then what? Hellooo! No room for tonic water. My thirst for knowledge, remained unquenched.

Then one day, I received an e-mail extolling the amazing properties of vodka. Apparently, vodka is akin to the 8th Wonder of the World, the consummate all-purpose home product. Who knew? (Well, you know, I suspect that Martha may have…)

I felt a glimmer of hope, I could create a theme basket incorporating the Vodka Set.  According to the list of uses for vodka, the possibilities appeared endless. 

'Tis The Season

I give up.

In one week it shall be the Eve of Christmas. Thereby and therefore, there shall be no writing, revising, nor any other such writerly pursuits betwixt now and the New Year. 

Edit: I'll still be blogging :)

Allow me to share with you my most favouritist holiday decoration:

Thanks!

A tip of the hat and a great big thanks y'all for your kind birthday wishes for my Cowpoke's big 4-0.

December First

Good morning and welcome to December. Thanks to the six inches of snow that graced our world yesterday, I woke up to a winter wonderland. The beauty of it all warmed my soul and the spirit of Christmas began to seep in through Jack Frost's scribbles.

I smiled, grabbed the camera, and ran outside to snap a shot. The wonder of the pretty sunrise, and glowing thoughts of a white Christmas fled as the chill air nipped my ankles and numbed my fingers. Whoa, time to dig out the industrial strength house slippers. Holy Hannah in a hay wagon—it’s bitter freezing cold out there!

FYI: According to Holiday Insights list of Bizarre and Unique Holidays, today is Eat a Red Apple Day. As weird holidays go I think this is one that could be observed with little fuss and preparation. I'm going to skip it though, we have a far more festive occasion to celebrate today.

It's the cowpoke's birthday, (Happy Birthday Honey!) so I'm off to bake a chocolate cake. Likely that will be followed by a frantic search through the kitchen drawers looking for some gently used birthday candles. Wish me luck on that one...  And have a good day!

Happy Thanksgiving and Breakfast Pizza

I know, I'm a Canadian, and we had our Thanksgiving in October. The cowpoke's mother and grandparents are duel citizens, so it's not uncommon for us to feast and be thankful twice. Far be it from me to not appreciate the best of both worlds. We're not indulging this year, but I can't help but think about turkey today--and left-overs! Mmmm, I'm experiencing a bad case of turkey envy here.

My new favourite thing for holiday company weekends is breakfast pizza. Yummy and easy to adapt, in order to cater to fussy eaters all tastes. Company around here often includes a vegetarian, lots of meat lovers, and the usual assortment of spicey food lovers and haters. There's room on a couple/few pizzas to make a custom section for everyone.

Photo Credit

Breakfast Pizza

Pizza Dough (makes one crust)
1 c. lukewarm water
1 1/2 tsps yeast
1 tbsp sugar
1 1/2 tsps salt
2 1/2 - 3 c. flour
olive oil

1) Put water in a medium bowl. Sprinkle with yeast, and stir in sugar until everything dissolves.
2) Whisk to stir in salt and flour until it gets too thick and then finish mixing with your hand. Knead for 5 min.
3) Brush a little olive oil over the dough, cover, and let rise in a warm place, for an hour.

While that's happening start prepping your toppings. Grease your pans, I like to sprinkle on some cornmeal, and when the doughs ready, roll it out and start creating your breakfast masterpiece.
Bake at 400 for about 15 minutes. Enjoy!

You can make it fresh or make it up ahead, freeze it, and warm up the made-to-order slices as the sleepy heads stumble out of bed. 

On my section: I like scrambled eggs, spicy sausage, chunks of turkey (white meat) green onions, black olives, fresh tomatoes and, ahem, brocolli (previously steamed), and to top it off a mixture of cheddar and mozza. I wonder what some of that lovely sage stuffing and a bit of that leftover yam would taste like on there? I think I'll try that next time. Oh, and maybe some ham and meatballs...

Happy Thanksgiving all! So, what would you like on your section of the breakfast pizza?

Lest We Forget

November 11 - Remembrance Day, Armistace Day, Veterans Day.

In recognition of the brave men and women who serve, or who have served, our countries. Freedom is ours - the honour is yours. We thank you.

                                Untitled

They ask for 60 seconds once a year and that is all,

When we will recognize them, those who stood so brave and tall.

They spent their 60 seconds, all in fear and all in pain,
those horrific 60 seconds spent for freedom we would gain.

60 seconds took so long as he watched his buddy die,
60 seconds for a nurse who knew she had to try.

60 seconds went so fast as the bombs came pouring in,
Only 60 seconds to find courage from within.

Another 60 seconds and he would face his greatest fear.
Those endless 60 seconds as the wives waited to hear,

They asked for 60 seconds so we'd know the price they paid,
when they spent their 60 seconds and in hell our freedom made.

They asked for 60 seconds once a year and that is all,
to stand in peace-filled silence and hear the bugle call.
~Author Unknown

If you haven't yet heard A Pitance of Time by Terry Kelly, it's a beautiful song and worth a listen.  I can't hear it, or actually even think about it, without spilling tears. 

          Grandparents (Nana & Poppy)

         Canadian Armed Forces WWII

              George Hamment Beales

                  Great Grandfather

Kings Own Rifle Regiment, Territorials -Militia

           Canadian Armed Forces WWI

Commander Richard Emeric Vidal - Royal Navy

                Great x4 Grandfather

                      Photo credit

          Jacques Duperon Baby

Lieutenant-Colonel Detroit Militia

          Great x6 Grandfather

Halloween-The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly

I planned to put up a lovely post today in honour of the occasion, but life got a little crazy. Our water pump blew up yesterday so off to town to pick up a new one. My living room is torn apart and upside down. We're cutting a big hole in the wall to put in a new window, so I'll have more sunshine for the winter. Not to worry, the weather has warmed up and the snow is melting :)  So anyway, a quick hodge podge of Halloweeny stuff.

The Good

It's a pooch-o-lantern!! This is my kind of Halloween--cuteness!

The Bad

This poster is so bad. It has nothing to do with Halloween, but it scared me. It did.

The Ugly

The metabolically gifted teenager won best costume at the highschool dance last night. Yay! He re-wore last years Borg creation but won anyway because his was the only costume that wasn't store bought. Huh. The costume was old but he did have some new 'tattoos'. Ewww.....  If you're squeemish--you might want to skip the next picture, it's a little more graphic than it seemed in person...

Again, ewwwww!! Okay, I like happy endings so I'll end with a couple of groaners to take your mind off the grossness:

Why don't skeletons ever go out on the town?

Because they don't have any body to go out with.

What is a ghosts favourite mode of transportation?

A scare plane...

What's a ghouls favourite flavour?

Lemon-slime.

Why do vampires need mouthwash?

They have bat breath.

Whoa, I can hear the boo's and hisses from here!

Have a Happy (and safe) Halloween!!

Thanksgiving Weekend

The second Monday in October is Thanksgiving Day up here in Canada. Our long weekend began with a two day road trip. I decided to play tourist and snap a few shots. Here's a bit of the British Columbia scenery we passed--shot from the passenger window of our trusty old 4-Runner. Well, what can I say, we're not really tourists--and it was cold outside :)

There...

Signs signs everywhere there's signs. This one is between Clinton and the Hat Creek Ranch.

Thompson River at Walhachin. Between Cache Creek and Savona.

Walhachin again. I love this stretch, it never fails to inspire me setting wise. The television series X-Files did some filming in the area, as did the movie Firewall with Harrison Ford.

Ginsing field at Walhachin.

I googled this sign. A big truck was parked in front of it and I would have had to get out of the vehicle, walk around the truck... nah.

I did brave the chill morning to capture this shot--it's the site of the old Six Mile Ranch between Savona and Kamloops. This has recently been developed into the Tobiano Golf Course on the shores of Kamloops Lake.

A small farm between Kamloops and Monte Lake.

My camera batteries died so I borrowed this pic of the Enderby Cliffs. This is apparently a popular climbing spot. I hear there are high winds up there that blow people off once in a while... So I'm going to just say no to that particular adventure. They remind me of The Cliffs of Insanity. Any other Princess Bride fanatics out there?

We had an early Thanksgiving dinner on Saturday. Why does that little flag waving turkey look so happy you ask? I think it's because we had an untraditional meal for our celebration. There were a few squacks regarding the lack of fowl upon the table, though nary a complaint when the four pies and the ice cream cake came out. Go figure.

Personally, I approved of the decision not to serve up a bird on this occasion. The purpose of our trip, you see, was the annual family gathering at the inlaws farm--to 'do' the chickens. I'll spare you the details and the pictures of that fun process but at the end of the day everyone rides off into the sunset with some nice plump organic chickens for their freezer.

...and Back Again.

Carmel of St. Joseph's Monastery near Armstrong.

Horses near Falkland.

The beaver is one of our national symbols, not very glamourous or exotic as creatures go. They are the largest rodent in North America. Not impressed? Huh. Well, they do mate for life and I personally have to admire that quality in any species. The Beaver Manufacturing company is located near Kamloops. 

Between the Beaver Manufacturing company and Kamloops.

I love these rock formations and this farmer has an impressive amount of hay piled up in his stackyard.

The sun began to set as we passed Cherry Creek.

Nearing Savona I lost the light but not the spark of excitement I felt knowing that I would soon be home.

    I'm looking forward to starting my revisions this week and catching up on my blog visiting. Hope everyone had a good weekend!

In Honour of the Long Suffering Souls

I would like to dedicate a day to the spouses/partners of writers. Those long suffering souls deserve a day. Probably many days of recognition, for the day-to-day craziness we put them through.

I live and breathe the scenes I write. If I don't they're dry and lifeless. The days my characters are happy are the days I'm happy. Then there are the other days, the black moments, when my characters are sad, devastated, in mortal danger...

I try to look at it from the cowpokes POV. And honestly, living with me when I'm in the maniacal throes of writing must be something akin to being on a roller coaster ride with Sybil.    

Is it just me? Can I see a show of hands in support of an International Spousal Appreciation Day?

Okay, so maybe ISAD isn't the best acronym... Any and all suggestions gratefully appreciated...

Happy LABOR DAYdreams

Happy Labour Day! One more sleep until the yellow school bus begins its daily meander down the lane. The house to myself—peace, quiet, and time to dive back into my WiP. That’s the dream anyway…


The busy days of September have a way of stretching out. It’s surprising really, and somewhat contradictory, in lieu of the diminishing daylight hours. As I tend to my tedious end-of-summer chores my thoughts often wander—to brighter moments wrapped in the memories of days gone by.

Don’t get me wrong; I truly love the abundant gift of harvest and the increasing rows of preserves marching across my pantry shelves. Proud little soldiers—prepared to battle the harsh winter months and keep the scurvy dogs at bay. Gar!

While preserving food is ultimately rewarding, the process can be tedious and oft times malodorous. The breezy drift of a daydream is often a welcome escape from time and place. If you’ve ever had the pleasure of canning salmon in your home, you will at once relate to my desire to escape the exotic aroma of raw sea creatures. My how it lingers…

Speaking of fishy things - I turned my back for a second and the cowpoke changed the word exotic to erotic. I was planning on changing the word exotic, it doesn’t really work there, but I’ll leave it now. One of these days I’m going to miss one of his mischievous little edits. And then where will I be? Writing about the erotic aroma of raw sea creatures—that’s where. Geez, what is he? Like twelve?

I’ll be keeping an eye out for the cowpoke and his high jinks. Oh yes—I will.

And so I will return for a time to my end-of-season labors and gather inspiration from the fanciful musings of my mind. For somewhere deep within—inspiration lurks. How I long to return to my keyboard!

Enjoy the bounty of your day!

Disclaimer: No cowpokes were harmed in the making of this post. (It was a close one though.)

Happy Canada Day!

Talking (complaining) about the weather is practically an official national pass time up here in the great white north. So patriotically speaking I should give a weather report today. Here it is the 1rst of July and there is frost on the ground. My Japanese bell fountain has an actual layer of ice floating on the water. I’m afraid to go out to the gardens. I don’t want to know what I’ve lost this time. Last year it snowed on July 13th.

Generally when the mornings are this cold and the sky is this blue, it’s a pretty good indication that we’re in for some blistering weather. Guess I’ll go thaw out the sunscreen. I love my Canada—yes I do! I’ll be doing my flag waving from home. The cowpoke and I are just not good in crowds.

We shop for groceries once or twice a month. Last time we made the trek to town it was a complete zoo. The mercury was peaking out of control. The tourists were swarming like locusts and parking their giant RV’s willy-nilly all over the place.

To make matters worse we are in the ‘give me forty acres and I’ll turn this pig around’ farm truck. Now, one of the cowpokes philosophies on life is, ‘God wouldn’t have created horses if he expected us to walk.’ You can probably see where this day is headed.

It begins with a long line-up at the bank. No, that’s not accurate. Make that a long wait in a short slow line at the bank.

Next stop--the grocery store, and it’s insane. After what us gals like to refer to as ‘the forced march’ around the store, we reach the check out zone, only to discover that one of the bagboys is directing traffic.

Are they still called bagboys? If they were--would the female ones be referred to as bag ladies? Apart from the obvious silliness of that one, it wouldn’t be politically correct. Would it? On the other hand… they do have a lot of handy shopping carts at their disposal. Makes you think, doesn’t it?

Anyway, the bagboy, or whatever he’s called, is directing traffic and forming one long line that stretches way in hell back to the deli. The cowpoke, who is usually a very polite yes sir thank you ma’am kind of guy, rudely responds with, “You’re jokin’ me!” and begins grumbling something about herding people like stupid cattle as he shuffles off to the back of the line.

So we get to the back of the chute, I mean line, and make half-hearted jokes with the other folks there about how the establishment should be bringing us coffee and sandwiches to sustain us through this ordeal. Well some of us do.

As we approach the check out lines, for the second time, I notice that the bagboy sporting the cheeky green apron is frantically shooing the person ahead of us down to a distant check out. I look around. That’s funny, I’m thinking, because there is one teller available who has a much shorter queue. Huh. Maybe the bagboy is hoping to cheer up the cowpoke or--maybe he just wants to get the brooding cowboy out of the store quicker. Yeah, that’s probably the one.

I make eye contact with the little bagboy and smile knowingly. I feel sorry for him after the cowpokes uncharacteristic and uncharitable behavior earlier. The bagboy grins back. The hair on the back of my neck stands up. His smile reminds me of a laugh that my granddaughter has described in her writing. ‘It’s not the one that rings like a bell, but the other one-- the evil one.’ Oh, oh.

My curiosity is peaked now. What is that bagboy in the kelly-green apron up to? Hmm. I love poetic justice and I can detect the sweet scent of it hovering in the air.

Ahhhh! There is an elderly couple going through our designated check out. Slowly. And they only have three items for the poor bag lady to run around and price check. The old man walks back and picks a huge watermelon off the conveyer belt. “I’ll just move this big pumpkin into our shopping cart before it rolls off.” He says. “The sign said it was $5.00.”

I smile. They might be slow but they are cute, and they are attempting to lighten the mood. Unlike some people I know. So I’m a little surprised when the, as yet unseen, tellers voice rises sternly from behind the big screen. “Do you mean the watermelon sir?”

Snort! She can’t be serious.

I’m in an exceptionally good mood at this point. Because… I have just advanced to the point in the check out line where I can see the tellers name plate. It is inordinately large and says. ‘My name is CHARLENE. I’m in TRAINING.’ Oh ya! I look around to tip my hat to the precocious bagboy but he is nowhere to be seen. Chicken.

The cowpoke finishes unloading the shopping cart and moves up to stand beside me, he’s all cool, and resigned now--he can see the door. I hold my breath waiting for that golden moment when he notices the billboard on CHARLENE’S chest.

I flash a sidelong look at the cowpoke. His eyes are narrowed to slits beneath the brim of his weathered straw cowboy hat. He nods his head slowly, up and down, and speaks dryly. “That Check-out Police Guy put me in this line on purpose.”

“Yes,” I say. “He did.”

I feel a bubble of laughter rising in my throat.

And 'it's not the one that rings like a bell, but the other one—’