It’s TOO much!

It was anything but a typical Monday morning here in Canuckland. Instead, I’m up before the sun, which is not cool, AND we saw the school bus on the way into the city. You know it’s early. Then I look out the window and it’s alternately sleeting and snowing those big, heavy cotton ball snowflakes. Yup, driving is sure to be fun. And to top it all off, I forgot to post this post. As it turns out, the post is way more awesome now than it would have been, you’re welcome. 

We’re on our way to the chiropractor because good spinal health, correction, posture is right up there next to the key of life. My other half has blessed me with his presence so he too, gets to partake of this life-changing experience aka a good chiropractic adjustment. I don’t drop names, rarely anyways, so you’ll have to ask which chiropractor if you really want to know. It’s like asking for directions. You man up (or woman up) find a nice-looking stranger, NOT model worthy but more like they won’t set you up and rob you, harmless looking. Anyways, I digress. We’re happily plodding along in the lovely dirty streets when this big telephone service truck stops at a green light. Of course, ‘what the-‘ rolls through our minds and then ZING! Bam! This minivan barrels through an obviously red light and smokes the unsuspecting SUV that’s innocently going through their green light. It was like watching bumper cars but with better sound effects. I was horrified; that could have been us since we were in the lane of fire if that truck hadn’t stopped. Eventually we made it to the chiropractor and thankfully didn’t need more than the usual adjustment.

The day is a beautiful, balmy cloudy day with air temps that chill you into reaching for that winter jacket. I’m enjoying being chauffeured around the city, to the mall, here and there. Yes, my husband willingly drove me to the LARGEST mall in the city so I could find, acquire and cross items off my list. Then my nose decides it wants to run… for prez or until the sun comes out, I don’t know. Thankfully I’m wearing a hoodie that’s large enough to hide an entire box of tissues in the kangaroo pouch thingie (note, I did discard the actual box of the tissues, it looked too weird). 

After perusing a bookstore and sadly coming to the conclusion that there wasn’t a new book out that wrangled my interest like a cowboy steer wrestling; I drifted into the coffee shop that just happened to be attached. Really, honey, I had NO idea there was a coffee shop in a five mile radius. But hey, since we're here... coffee time!

It’s about lunch time. We were supposed to meet some family for a late lunch. The minutes tick by. I check, re-check and check my phone again for any texts saying they’re now headed our way. We’re now headed for a laaate lunch when I see a gray minivan drive by. Yes! That’s them! Oh wait, WE are in the gray minivan and THEY have the pickup. This, sadly, happened several times. I’d say it’s because I’m blonde but I think that hunger-induced forgetfulness was the true culprit. You see, we were supposed to meet for lunch but also swap back our respective vehicles. Really, it’s too much to ask of a person to sit and wait patiently when food is so close. I know a hint of how a dog feels when they have to sit and wait for the treat. 

Oh and somewhere in there, in all that dirty, slushy chaos called life, err, traffic, we managed to locate and drop off our grain moisture tester for re-calibration. This shop was hidden away in the industrial section and you had to make sure to zig and not zag at the appropriate times otherwise you’re lost like Alice. The poor thing was so far out we couldn’t use it at all this past harvest. And the check for this little tune-up will sting but be well worth it. 

For sure and for certain it’s a Monday. It’s too much. And I had two coffee mugs fully loaded; the second mug barely got me to the city the coffee was disappearing that quickly. It’s too much, I’d ask for a do-over but neither do I want to repeat the day’s events nor ever so I’ll drink more coffee instead.

Politics ‘n’ snow

What do politics and snow have in common? Well, three things. I think. 

1)      The US presidential race season has come to an end, beating winter’s end by a few months.

2)      Trump’s inauguration has met with a chilly response from parts of America. Good thing it’s winter, there’s an excuse to bundle up in layers.

3)      Just like this snow hanging on, Trump will be around for awhile now.

       

It’s that time, the time in which we FINALLY put political races to bed for another season. Over the weekend, speculation has run rampant over the new Trump administration. Trump was inaugurated as the 45^th president of the U.S. this past Friday. I, for one, am happy this presidential race season is done as I found the past year and a half or so of political ads and mudslinging quite tiring. 

However, I was surprised by the level of interest of those around me here in Canuckland. Maybe I shouldn’t be so naïve about the interest of Canucks; seeing as how US trade policy, et cetera affects pricing and commodities here in Canuckland. It will be especially interesting to follow Trump’s policies and trade as it affects farming. I know many farmers are keeping a concerned eye on the future of grain prices and demand, farmers on both sides of the border. 

This whole concept of being a farmer from the US and now learning how to farm in Canuckland is proving to be the adventure of a lifetime. It’s one thing to read in the paper of how trade deals or policies will affect foreign affairs and it’s a new thing entirely to now be in the thick of that ‘affect.’ For example: The US could potentially put new trade restrictions into effect that will affect grain pricing here in Canuckland. The reverse could then potentially happen with Canuckland (or any other country in the world) putting trade restrictions in place that would drop US grain prices through the basement floor. The farming roller coaster is looking like it will have a few new loops, drops and surprises. This year is quickly shaping up to be one of the more interesting years for me. 

And you thought farming was boring.

Tis the season… for bookwork

A farmer’s job is never done, not really. Yes, there are those cynics that exist in the world that joke that a farmer is only busy during planting and harvest.  It’s like saying teachers get a three month vacation for their year’s salary. Clearly, I don’t agree with either of those. Of course, people are entitled to their assumptions, non-factual based knowledge and generally ill-conceived jokes and perceptions of truth. Truth. Farmers work hard with long days. Want to complain about your 40-hour work week? I’ll give you some advice. Don’t cry about it on the shoulder of a farmer. Farmers help feed the world, yet people like to throw farmers under the bus for air pollution, water runoff pollution, the noise, the smell, you name it, etc. Yet, somehow farmers are some of the nicest people you’ll ever meet. Yes, there is that ONE grouchy old farmer but hey, there are grouchy old people in general, it’s not limited only to one profession. However, I’ll save the rest of my opening, middle and closing arguments on this rant for another day. 

It is, however, the season for bookwork. Yeah there are farmers out in the field somewhere in the world; especially if you’re south of the equator and your seasons are opposite of the current frozen tundra motif that’s currently decorating my surrounding landscape. Of course, there’s still the general repairs going on in the shop but the down and dirt-y (ha), nose to the grindstone work waits till spring. Who doesn’t love bookwork? I find it to be therapeutic. It speaks to my soul or more to my 'Type A, uber organized, labeled, filed, i’s dotted and t’s crossed' penchant for ‘neatness.’ 

My husband has a love/hate relationship with this facet about me. Love, for the main reason that he doesn’t have to do bookwork. Hate, well, there’s a tendency of paperwork to be hidden or left in ‘unusual’ places (pockets) or tossed into the, ahem, incorrectly labeled pile for said bookwork. This upsets the keeper of the bookwork (me). He doesn’t always understand my fastidiousness for proper to-be-filed-or-accounted-for placement of paperwork which leads to consternation and general male conclusions of how he doesn’t understand women. Of which, I think, that a lot of men would agree with my hubby. I try to understand this male thinking and make it easier and less trap-like for him by telling him to place all papers in ‘x’ spot and let my fussy self properly take care of it later. Of course, I’ll admit this effort fails on my part occasionally and the fastidious bookkeeper in me forgets to take that hat off for the day and gets a little naggy about paperwork. The mirror doesn’t lie, sadly, and my sane self is ashamed and apologetic and vows to try harder next time (to not be so crazy and nitpicky). 

I’ll admit that during the working season, I hope for cloudy or rainy days so that I have the excuse to do bookwork. Maybe it’s to catch up on bookwork too but mostly because I enjoy it. Weird? Quite possibly.

Dealing with the after effects of the holidays

Now I’m sure for most people that once the calendar changed to January all the holiday decorations were put away, the tree tidily disposed of (or put back in its box) and life returned to ‘normal’ aka your post holiday life and schedule resume. 

Me, on the other hand, I intend to keep my tree up till March. No, not really, it will last the week and then I will finally cave to the pressure of time and the gravity that keeps pulling the needles off; that and my dog keeps trying to chew branches off, creating a hole where fluffy branches once were.  What can I say? I enjoy the holidays and I like to enjoy the decorations for a full month once they’re put up. 

Of course, the alternate argument would be that maybe I should put my décor up a little earlier then to compensate for my one month rule. I can’t seem to put up my holiday décor until I have the perfect tree. Clearly, I am not a fan of fake trees, pre-lit or no. So until there’s a tree in the tree stand the rest of the works wait in their boxes. Well, this year I have boxes. Last year it was two pieces that hid in the furnace room and then shopping to stock said items took care of the rest. 

Let’s face the facts though; when I say deal with the after effects of the holidays what I really mean is how to deal with all of the snow that’s left. Well, unless you don’t live in the tropics of the land of balmy weather, you have snow (or you should).  Here, it seems like that all we do have is snow. Oh and we’re supposed to get more over the next couple of days.  The snow just sits on our yard and we can barely use the tractor-run snow blower to get rid of it. Pushing the snow is out of the question. Apparently that’s just NOT done here. Ha. 

It’s to the point that we ask ourselves, do we share and give some snow to the neighbors? Maybe the church would like another large pile of snow to add to their collection in the parking lot. What do you do with so much snow? Sadly, it’s the not the nice snow that you can make snowmen with; otherwise there would be a veritable forest of snowmen on our yard welcoming passerby. 

What to do with so much snow?