Landing anniversary

Canola blooming

Throw it back a couple of days to Saturday and it was the first anniversary of the day I became a ‘landed immigrant.’ Feels so weird to say that I ‘landed’ in Canuckland, especially when you consider it was a land-locked port of entry and I drove across. ‘Landing’ makes me think of steamers, 1800s and a more formal feel to the occasion versus driving across and then watching the clock hands slowly time out an hour and a half for paperwork in a library-esque ‘shush’ office.

My beloved hubby and rascally farm pup took me for a day out in the wilds of Canuckland. We drove a couple of hours to a beach for a picnic and soaking in the rays. My first time at a beach in Canuckland, no less.  As we drove, the landscape reminded me of winding through the paved paths through trees hiding shy lakes in Minnesota. Then, for kicks, we drove another half hour north (practically in the arctic at this point, ha) to check out a small town on another lake but the similarities were to Okoboji instead.

Beach time

We rounded out the day with spicy Hawaiian pizza for me, a supreme for the hubs (Scoots stole a slice from the hubs, naughty naughty!) and a spy thriller movie at home. Of course, photos were taken to commemorate this momentous day, mark it down in history so to speak. And I just had to take advantage of the glorious, sunshine yellow bloom of the canola.

Wheat field as we came home

I’m holding out for the flax blooming soon. On our Sunday afternoon drive to see some ‘real’ hills (sorry but dugout hills do NOT count as an actual hill) we saw several flax fields throwing out the first blooms like ladies used to throw out handkerchiefs. I look forward to going up for a flight with my camera and getting some good aerial shots of the bloom.

Since the spraying load has been quiet this week, it’s a waiting game of timing now; the hubs took me up for an impromptu flying date. The canola fields were stunning from the air! He had a bit of fun with me though while flying. Instead of going for the ‘oh, sorry, hit a pocket (or some lame excuse)’ and dropping the plane a little, he went for the hard banking turns that leave me looking uncomfortably at the ground only. 

No sky. And I had the window open so I could take a proper photo with my legit camera (not a cellphone reflecting in the window glass). Somehow that window closed quickly.  I’ll admit my hand then had a death grip on the door handle, although it was a slippery grip. Honestly, I don’t know what hanging on to the door handle would really do for me in the worst case scenario but apparently it was my ‘hold a teddy bear for comfort’ mode of action.

Sadly, I have no excuse not to do bookwork with the field work status on ‘hold for timing.’ Mowing has been caught up, well for another day or two, and the garden is rapidly running off into the sunset without me. Canning should be an adventure later this summer (wish me luck) as I’ve never canned on my own before. I’ve always been the assistant/prep gopher person.

My Scandinavian self will locate and attain shade during the hottest part of the day. Sunburns are a no go and a joy-killer. And I guess that’s my number one excuse to get the bookwork done. Arguing against one’s self is like playing chess with yourself, you know the opponent too well; winning is hard and difficult at best.

Prairie storm