Cabin Warming - Lake Diefenbaker

It has been a long time since Kathy and I have danced with bare feet on soft green grass outside a large tent while live music played inside - this probably hasn't happened since our Winnipeg Folk festival days!

On Saturday, July 16, Uncle Bruce and Aunt Brenda with truck and toyhauler, and Kathy, our grandson, Cohen, and I in our Sante Fe, headed to the shores of Lake Diefenbaker, north of Central Butte.  Carl and Hollyce, parents of our daughter-in-law, Allison, had invited us to their cabin warming!  They had invited family and friends to celebrate this occasion, and we were really pleased that they had invited us - we just had to go!

When stopping at Elbow for ice cream cones, Kathy got instructions on her Blackberry from John on how to navigate the grid roads cross country to get to the cabin.  Although I did not say anything, it kind of reminded me of lapping main street in Nipawin as a teenager on a Friday night, getting instructions on where the bush party was going to be, except for the Blackberry of course! 

Having successfully navigated the grids, we met John at the top of the ravine where the road led down to the cabin.  We parked the trailer on the top of the hill beside a clover field on one side and a beautiful view of Lake Diefenbaker on the other side.  Once we were set up, we walked down to the yard where the new log cabin stood overlooking the lake.  The yard was full of tents, trailers, and a large tent in front of the cabin.  Many people had already gathered, and Carl was busy cooking a pig on the spit while Hollyce was getting everything organized in the cabin.  We met many people that we had not seen since John and Allison's wedding and many more as well.

Since it was such as warm sunny day, Cohen took Grandpa down to the lake.  He played with some new friends and with Allison while I mainly basked on the dock in the sun like a beached walrus.  On a warm sunny day by the lake, it does not take much to keep Grandpa entertained!  When it was time to go, I practically had to carry Cohen off the beach because as soon as he got clean in the water, he would roll in the sand looking like a cinnamin-coated gingerbread man!!  Walking up the trail from the beach to the yard, we came across an outdoor shower where we washed our feet.  While doing this, I thought we need one of these at our lake when the crew is coming up from the lake or before going into the hot tub.  Another lake project was born!!!!    

When walking up the path with Cohen, I had heard music coming from the large canvas tent.  Mark Penner and his friend, Dave Cyca, were playing guitars and singing.  They were good - very good! Two others, originally from Nipawin, Ed Doyle and Marguarite (nee Hickie) got out her violin and her guitar and he his banjo and joined in!  They just started jamming - folk music, blues, old time music - and that is when it happened. Kathy and I were dancing on the grass, in bare feet, outside the tent, just like old times!!!

The afternoon passed happily - meeting people, listening to the music, dancing, and having a few brewski!!! Then the pig was ready.  It was taken from the spit, an apple placed in its mouth, and the carvers began carving.  Cohen wasn't going to have any of that pig meat!  The supper was delicious and Cohen finally did have some pork.  I told him that having roasted pig is great because you have four drumsticks.  Grandpa grossed him out greatly when eating one of the pig's feet.  I graciously offered to share it with him but he let me eat the whole thing all by myself!  Supper was fantastic - pork, salads, homemade buns, desserts!!!!!

After supper a truck and trailer pulled into the yard, the band from Swift Currant and the Hat had arrived.  They set up and started playing - they were great!  Rock, blues, good old 60's music.  As Carl said, 60's music for the 60 year olds! You could tell that Carl and Hollyce were really having a great time! When it was dark, the fireworks started, splaying vivid colors across the night sky. We danced until 3 o'clock in the morning and then stumbled up the hill (can you stumble "up" a hill) to the trailer for a sound night's sleep!

After sleeping in, we walked down the hill to the cabin which had been well warmed by this time. John and Cohen had already been riding the Kodiac and fishing.  I have not told you about their cabin.  A large log, green-roofed cabin with verandas on three sides is nestled in a ravine beside the lake.  The main floor is spacious with kitchen, livingroom, washroom, bedrooms and entrance.  The loft upstairs has a sitting area, bathroom, and bedrooms.  Prairie antiques and remembrances from Mexico decorate each room.  The cabin is gorgeous and has a lot of character - something that Carl and Hollyce can be really proud of.  Some cottage magazine should do a feature story about the cabin on the prairie by the shores of Lake Diefenbaker because it really is a special, warm, unique place - a great place to enjoy the company of friends and family.

After a leisurely, relaxing breakfast, Uncle Bruce, Aunt Brenda, Cohen, Kathy, and I said our goodbyes.  We enjoyed meeting everyone, the great hospitality, and all the fun.  The cabin had been warmed!!!!!     

Man Shopping

Don't get excited ladies, this blog is not about shopping for men!! It is about my trip to Prince Albert yesterday.  Since our car that we bought in December is on warrenty, I took it into PA for an oil change.  I was to be at the Hyundai shop at 2:00 that afternoon.  The shop forman said that it would not be finished until 4:00 and asked if I wanted a ride with their shuttle service.  He suggested the casino.  I opted for Canadian Tire and Peevy Mart!  I was shuttled to Canadian Tire.

Upon entering, I grabbed a Canadian tire flyer.  After leisurely going through it, I decided that there was nothing that I needed. So I did a stroll around the store.  I am never really good at just shopping.  If I need something, I just go and get it, and do not just browse around a store.  I never really understood how women, especially my wife and daughters, could just wander through stores shopping.  

Well, wandering over to the fishing section, I noticed that stinger hooks were on sale, and a guy can not have too many stinger hooks when fishing walleye.  Since I am going to Jan Lake with 16 other former Kinsmen next weekend, these stinger hooks would come in handy - eight of them should do! 

Making another lap of the store I noticed plastic adirondac chairs in bright colors - they could replace the wooden ones that need painting and are on our deck by the lake.  No, I resisted the temptation - they wouldn't probably fit into the shuttle car.  Next trip perhaps.

Wandering around the store entrance, I noticed mechanic-type guys coming in, looking at the flyer, rushing to the tools, and grabbing an item that was 70% off.  There were only two left in the bin at the end of the aisle.  Those would make good Xmas gifts for Mike and Cory!  No, lots of time before Xmas, so I made another lap around the store before deciding that I would buy them, but just as I approached the bin, one of those mechanic types grabbed one of the items. Disappointment!!!!! As I was standing there thinking of buying the last one, another guy walked by and grabbed it!  Major disappointment!!!!!!!!  Making another lap of the store, brooding about my indecision, I came back to the tool section.  I noticed a clerk helping a mechanic- type guy in one of the aisles - the items that I wanted were also in the aisle counters.  Only 7 left!!! There was no stopping me now! I grabbed two of them!!!

Now I NEEDED a cart!  Struggling toward the door with my items, I saw an abandoned cart -relief!  Now I make another lap around the store, going up and down the aisle with my cart, leisurely looking at merchandise in each display.  Bottled water on sale!!!!  When is it not on sale? But we need some, and it will help fill up this cart!

By this time, I have wandered back to the sporting goods section.  Kathy had mentioned that we need some new sleeping bags.  I decided I should get a couple!  I did not know there were so many kinds of sleeping bags.  Perhaps I should wait until she is with me!  Good plan! 

I had bought Kathy a new rod and reel this spring - a light weight rod that is quite easily broken.  She really needs a fishing rod case to protect it.  Maybe I will take it as a back-up rod and reel when I go to Jan Lake with the boys next week.  Throwing the case into the cart, I thought I should get some yellow fishing jigs with the red dots for eyes - the kind Cory likes to use when he goes fishing.  Got them.  But while browsing around I found a walleye magazine with a directory of the lakes in Saskatchewan, what fish are in these lakes, and a major story about fishing Last Mountain Lake where John is stationed at the provincial park for the summer.  John would like that!! So into the cart it goes!!

Jeese, it is just about 4 o'clock!  I will never make it to Peeve Mart now!  I went directly to the check-out tills.  I had heard about impluse buying, so while waiting in line, after phoning the shuttle service, I grabbed some plastic construction bags - large and sturdy ones!!!

After going through the check-out tills, the bill came to just over $250.00!!!!  Perhaps I should have gone to the casino!  As I am standing in the parking lot with my cart full of great buys and necessities, waiting for the shuttle car, I think, you have just got to love man shopping!!!!!

Amish Magic Dough

The dough sat in a white plastic washbasin on the counter in six or more plastic bags with dates marked on them.  Amish dough - magic dough - it just kept rising in those bags.  Why so many bags I asked; I'm going to give some of the bags of dough to my friends she replied! I just watched the bags balloon up with air, and the dough rose bigger and bigger, filling the extra large plastic bags!  The deliveries were never made to her friends, but the dough did not care; it just kept expanding until the bags bulged with bubbly dough. An explosion was imminent!!!

Thursday, her day off - panic time! Dough deliveries had not been made! Up in the morning baking with her daughter until late afternoon. She was exhausted!!!  Pails and pails of cookies, counters full of banana loafs, vanilla pudding loafs, green pastacho loafs made when the vanilla pudding ran out, trayfuls of cinnamin buns (cake cinnamin buns, not bread cinnamin buns, I am told). Surely not as good as the ones my Mom used to make when I was a boy, but I have wolfed down two Amish cake dough cinnamin buns in the last 10 minutes! Only forty or so to go!!

My challenge - to get rid of those Amish cake dough loafs.  Uncle Gerry got one last night.  He appreciated receiving the loaf.  This afternoon I stopped by Mel and Nicole Goldade's for a visit and a cup of coffee, and I dropped off an Amish loaf! They were very appreciative.  Ron and Al O'Byrne were siding their cabin, so I stopped by, had a visit, and got rid of another loaf.  They were very appreciative.  Over to Bernie Bridgadier's cabin, had a chat, and give him a loaf.  He was very appreciative.  Just 3 more loafs in the truck to deliver, but by this time it was getting late in the afternoon. I decided to whom I would deliver the last 3 loafs tomorrow.  I know that they would appreciate even the green pastachio loafs!

This evening, I began cleaning off the kitchen counters.  Pails of cookies to the freezer for the grandchildren when they visit this summer.  Sealed plastic containers full of cake cinnamin buns.  Thankfully, only 3 Amish loafs left on the counter.  And what did I find on the counter once it was cleared of all the baking - a white plastic container filled with six plastic bags full of  Amish dough - magically, insidiously rising with a mind of its own, not caring that an explosion is imminent!!!!!

I know, I know . . . she's going to deliver the bags of Amish magic dough to her friends.  When is her next day off anyway?

Flying Fobia - Again

They arrived yesterday.  They are still in my briefcase by the back door since I got them yesterday.  Airline tickets to Niagra Falls.  I don't like airports, I don't like flying, and I don't like when the tickets come reminding me that we are going to fly!   I know it is irrational - so why am I like this?

I have been on fly-in fishing trips before and small bush planes did not seem to bother me.  One time we had a young bush pilot and he was landing the float plane on the water by the docks at LaRonge.  Another plane was landing at the same time at an angle to the front passenger seat that I was sitting in.  I swear that it felt like I could reach out and touch the other plane's wing just outside my window.  All I really remember is the red numbers on the wing of the white plane.  After letting out a not so manly scream, I asked the young pilot if he thought that was a little too close for comfort - he just commented that he had not seen the other plane. He did not seem too bothered by the close call.  The next year when we were flying out of La Ronge, I asked the guy in charge, a fellow they called Billy Bush, where the young bush pilot was from last year.  He said that that pilot had died last summer after we had flown with him.  They thought that on a hot summer day he had landed his plane on a lake to go for a swim.  The breeze drifted his plane away from him.  He could not catch it swimming, and he drowned. 

Occasionally, I tell the joke about the bush pilot who lands on a small lake to pick up two fishermen.  Once the two big fishermen and all their gear are loaded on the plane, the pilot tells the men that he does not think he can fly the plane off the lake safely with that much weight in the plane because the lake is too small.  The fishermen tell him that they have been fishing on this lake before, convincing the pilot to try.  He revs the plane up, just gets it flying over the trees, but clips a tree and down goes the plane.  Everyone is ok, but the pilot is upset.  One of the fishermen says, "It's ok, you did a good job - we got a 100 yards farther than we did last year!"  I never forget this story because it reminds me of what happened when I was in my twenties working at a bar at a resort lake north of Prince Albert.  The big hotel windows looked out on a beautiful beach and the sunny shimmering blue lake.  I noticed a float plane quite a ways out on the lake. The plane was really reving up and struggling to get off the water, moving directly to the beach and the hotel.  It flew off the water, gaining altitude very slowly.  Everyone got quite excited, thinking it was going to hit the side of the  hotel, but it cleared the building, went about a block, clipped and tree, and crashed, killing the pilot.  I was later told that the plane was loaded with catepillar parts for machines fighting forest fires in the north.

You should be glad to know that all my recollections about flying do not involve planes and death.
One year we were going to La Ronge on the Father's Day weekend to fish.  A farmer pilot was going to fly us from Birch Hills to the La Ronge airport.  His wife had just given him a light brown suede suit for his present and he was wearing it when we left.  We arrived safely for a long weekend of fishing but our pilot was drunk all weekend.  The morning we were to leave we could not find him.  Finally we found him sleeping on the woodpile behind the cabins, still wearing his dirty light brown suit, with a piece of plywood over him keeping him warm.  Needless to say, he was still plastered!  He assured us that if he could just get the plane off the runway, without crashing it, we would be alright. The two other fishermen got in the back, and I got in the passenger seat beside the pilot.  Reving the plane up, he took off, not the smoothest take-off, but we were in the air!  After flying a short time, he turned to me asking me if I had ever flown a plane because he couldn't stay awake!  Not having flown a plane, he gave me a quick lesson on how to slowly move the steering wheel and how to move the peddles with my feet to keep the plane level, telling me to follow the highway south from La Ronge, along Montreal Lake, and to make a bit of an adjustment by Candle Lake, and then he quickly fell asleep.  After flying for a few minutes, I looked around to see the wide-eyed Wayne and Sam in the back, passing a rye bottle back and forth between them, using the whiskey to calm their nerves.  Fortunately, our pilot woke up by Candle Lake, much refreshed, and safely flew us to Birch Hills.

Perhaps my flying fobia actually began when I went gliding.  My brother-in-law, Norm, was a member of the Regina Gliding Club.  One beautiful summer day, when we were in Regina, he asked me if I would like to go gliding and I said that I would like to do that.  At the airport, for some reason that I can't remember, I was to go up in a glider with the Club's gliding instructor.  If I remember correctly, I was in the nose of the glider, and the instructor was behind me.  A plane towed the glider up into the sky above the city, and then the instructor released the rope and it waved in the air like a snake skimming across a shimmering surface.  The instructor slowly glided down over the city, the only sound was the whistle of the wind as the glider cut through the air.  Then suddenly the glider hit an updraft, and in a tight circle with the left wing pointing down we rapidly gained elevation, round and round and round, until we broke from the updraft, gliding down, down down, finding another updraft, tightly circling up up up, and round and round and round, and doing this repeatedly.  About the third abrupt updraft, my stomach contents wanted to come up up up, but I stubbornly choked chunks back down down down. I started doing this repeatedly.  Clammy sweat was pouring from my forhead.  While looking down at Taylor Field, down the left wing of the plane, I was frozen, unable to look up to the nose of the glider or the upper wing above me.  Using all my mental strength, I willed my locked neck muscles to slowly, painfully, move so that I could look at the nose of the glider.  Were we never going to land?  Up and down, round and round, up and down, from updraft to updraft we went for what seemed like most of the afternoon.  I was praying to myself, please land before I hurl all over the place.  Finalllly, the instructor headed down the runway, the glider stopped, falling over on its left wing.  The instructor, jumped out of the glider, excitedly proclaiming that that ride was the best gliding that he had had all summer and asked how I enjoyed the ride.  I said that it was wonderful, just wonderful - I don't think he believed me!  Although this incident did not involve death, it just seemed like I was going to die - I have never really liked flying since.

The panic starts slowly as we drive to the airport; it increases noticeably as I enter the airport and go through the airport process itself.  It heightens as we walk onto the plane and escalates as the plane takes off.  Mercifully, on the plane ride itself, I am quite relaxed.  I can even sleep on the plane annoying other passengers with my snoring, which does not bother me either since, inconsiderately, I believe that I will probably never see any of these passengers again anyway.  Sometimes on the plane while I am sleeping, I dream that the pilot has had a heart attack and the copilot is so traumatized that he is incapable of flying, and airline attendant come back and wakes me because somehow she knows that I have flying experience! Sleeping keeps my mind off the most intensified panic of the flight - the landing of the plane - hopefully, the safe landing of the plane. However, the part I dislike the most is transferring from plane to plane in a busy airport.  I just want to retreat to the safe confines of the airport bar!

Although I am excited about going to Niagra Falls with Kathy at the end of April, I am not looking at the tickets in the briefcase by the door and am not going to think about flying there until just before we leave.  This plan will make it easier on my nerves between now and then.  Is this irrational, or what?  

Daylight Saving Times Time

If any of you have visited us within the last couple of years or have been sitting around our campfire enjoying a hot dog and a pop, you are probably aware that Kathy has a very strong opinion about daylight saving time - she is in favor! DEFINITELY in favor!!!!!

Last night I was wanting to turn to a Saskatchewan news channel, but it was later than on the other channels.  I was quickly informed that other places had changed to daylight saving time but we had not!  I guess I had missed that daylight saving time had started on Sunday, March 13. 

Kathy went on to say that this year she was not "wasting her breath" talking about daylight saving time.  I guess the Premier is not having his referendum about the issue as he promised because most of the Saskatchewan people were in favor of leaving things as they were - no daylight savings time.  After questioning the brightness of the Saskatchewan people, and me specifically, and after "wasting her breath" for about 5 more minutes, the issue was closed so that she could just save her breath on that topic!

As a kid, we had daylight saving time.  I can remember twice a year getting up in the morning, and the family changing the clocks. It wasn't such a chore since there was one clock in the kitchen on the wall above the sink, a couple of wind-up alarm clocks in the bedrooms, and the watches on our arms. We actually had to pull out the stem on the side of the watch, spin the stem to change the time, push the stem back in, and then wind the stem to make sure the watch kept running!  The old saying to remember how to change to daylight saving time correctly was, "Spring ahead, fall behind".

To me, in the world of today, it would seem to be quite a chore to change a household twice a year to account for daylight savings time.  The microwave, the stove, the coffee maker, the breadmaker, the phones, the clocks on the walls, the TV and all its attachments, the electric alarm clocks in every bedroom, the vehicles, and many other gadgets have time displays.  And, most of them, have a different way of setting them!  For some people, like me, it almost seems overwhelming!  I have not mentioned to Kathy that this could be another reason for not having daylight saving time, just in case my brightness was questioned again!

This morning, when I got up, I went on the computer to check the temperature, and Kathy was having a shower.  On the weather network they have a daily poll - a survey.  The question for today was, Which province does not have daylight savings time? British Columbia, Saskatchewan, Ontario, or New Brunswick.  I could hardly wait for Kathy to come out of the shower to show her the poll.  Most people had chosen Saskatchewan.  After the poll results was the saying, "Spring Ahead", so I guess it is only an old saying in Saskatchewan.  When I showed her the poll, she could not believe that some of the people did not know the answer.  She did not "waste her breathe" discussing the merits of daylight saving time with me.  Perhaps she was just running late for work.

Anyway, I am sorry to inform you that Kathy will not be "wasting her breath" with her stories and arguments about daylight saving time this summer.  I know that you will all be disappointed.  She will just have to come up with some other topic with which to entertain us around the firepit!

Chocolate Cake, Ice cream & Grandkids

I like chocolate cake, especially with ice cream and grandkids.  Wednesday evening Kathy, Uncle Gerry and I went to Denise and Mike's place for my birthday cake and ice cream. The grandkids and I pigged out!!  I had to help some of them with theirs.  Just one of the perks of being a grandpa!  Kathy and Denise took pictures of the cake with candles, not 61 of them, the grandkids, and me.  The grandkids blew out the candles, and luckily for me they all went out so I didn't have any girlfriends (try explaining that one to Kathy)!!!!!

I like presents too.  Kathy had already given me an electric drill as my charger for the old one gave up charging.  I think she has an ulterior motive as she wants a new deck built this summer for the natural gas barbeque and the new outdoor kitchen centre that she bought last year.  Uncle Gerry gave me a Nipawin Hawks hat that I have been wearing for the last two days.  Denise and Mike gave me a new book to read - James Patterson's The Book of Spies.  I must have it read before summer holidays as I know Denise and Andrea will be looking for it!

Shellen helped me open my card and presents from the grandkids.  The card read, "There is only one thing better than having a really cool grandpa . . . knowing that being cool runs in the family!"  Happy Bithday from Your Grandkids, and they signed the card with the best printing.  Now inside the birthday gift bag was a Saskatchewan Roughrider Air Freshener, a Canadian Wiggler fish hook and a metal licence plate with three stick people roasting hot dogs over an open fire and the saying, "It's all fun and games . . . until someone loses a weiner"  Now how cool is that!  You can be sure that it will be hanging on the woodshed by our firepit this summer!

When I got home that night I got a phone call from Moose Jaw, and a little voice sang Happy Birthday in French and then said, "Happy Birthday, Grandpa".  Soooo nice - - - thanks Cohen for your singing present!

Last weekend Uncle Bruce and Aunt Brenda were here and showed us pictures of David and Jesse's wedding in Mexico.  They brought gifts for Julian, Uncle Gerry and me - matching white T-shirts with a saying on the front which read, "Give a Man a Fish and he will eat for a day.  Teach a Man to Fish and he will sit in a boat and drink Beer all day. (Fish 24:7)  Now we have team fishing T-shirts!  I can hardly wait for spring fishing season to start!

Now you may think this blog is about gifts, grandkids, desserts, fishing, and me, and you might be right!  Oh heck, I admit it - you are TOTALLY right!!!!!!!!!!!!

My First Blog

Well, I am doing it - blogging! After some nudging, urging, and name-calling (blogcrastinator), I am setting my blogphobia aside.  Diligently, following Denise's email instructions, I have arrived at this page, wondering what all the other symbols and headings would do if I was so brave to press on some of them.  For now, I'll just write a few lines and not get too adverturesome as a newbie blogger!

Sixty-one, yes 61.  Yes, today is my birthday - March 9th.  Could it be I am dyslexic and I am only 16? Not likely.  Spent a quiet day at home, had supper with Kathy, and then went to Ash Wedneday service for the "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" reminder!  As a symbol of our mortality, a cross is drawn on each person's forehead with ashes. What a way to celebrate one's 61st birthday!  After the service, we had to get gas at the Coop, so I walked into the C store, and David Paetkau, the attendant, asked me what that black cross was on my forehead - perhaps he thought I was going Goth.  I quickly replied, "Just a church thing" and rushed to the washroom for a forehead scrub!!!

Sixty-one rhymes with FUN, and that's what this upcoming year is going to be!!!!!
                              (ps - blogging ain't that bad once you get the hang of it)

For all of you who thought Dad needed his own blog!!!

I am hoping that this blog becomes a place for all of us to read about dad's day and his interesting outlook on his daily events!

Denise *testing out the blog before I introduce it to dad*

PS. if you are reading this please become a follower so that dad knows that people are reading what he is writing!