Airplanes, Automobiles & Too Much Excitement

My brother and his wife arrived here from BC a couple of weeks ago. They had quite the journey getting here, leaving the end of May with an intended stop-over in Edmonton for a couple of weeks. Didn't end up that way though. They headed out after about three weeks there and their cube van containing all their earthly possessions had some serious mechanical problems. A supposedly good heavy duty mechanic that their friend knew from his church led them on a wild goose chase that cost them dearly in both expenses and time. In the end, it all worked out and they hit the road without any further problems.

Now, my brother was waiting for a very important call to fly to Yellowknife for a two week job making some serious money. Of course, things never go exactly as planned but he finally got the call this week and his flight arrangements were made and so forth. His flight was for 6 am so that means being at the airport around 5 am and THAT means getting up at 3:30 am to hit the road at 4 am from our place to pick up my brother and then head to the airport.

Since I have this very practical side to me, I told hubs he had to leave at 4 am which allowed a good 15 minute grace period (just in case.... I can't stand being late). No problem with that and as I crawled back into bed my brother calls to make sure nobody slept in. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to us, hubs was on the cell phone trying to reach me. While talking to my brother, I heard my cat making those "gonna hurl a fur ball" noises so I quickly said my goodbyes to my brother. Good thing, too because my brother likes the phone and would have stayed on longer.

Shortly after cleaning the mess my cat made, the phone rings and it's hubs. "You're not going to believe this", he says, "it's pretty serious." Good heavens! Did he hit a deer or moose or worse? Well, he came round a tight curve in the road and just about rear-ended a car that was parked smack dab in the road... no four-ways flashing, no engine running, nada. He got out to see what the heck and found a woman slumped over in the driver's seat. He pounded and banged on the window and roof of the car but got no response from the woman. (Good thing I made sure he took the cell phone because he wouldn't have otherwise... good old practical me.)

He had called 911 before calling me to say "GET HERE NOW" and I'm frantically scrambling for clothing and keys, making sure I have my wallet in case I get pulled over for speeding (but I didn't speed - it was too foggy and my windshield was really fogged up). When I arrived he said, "You go, I'm staying here to make sure nobody else comes along and hits her." The ambulance pulled up just behind me. They couldn't get into the car or rouse her so instead of breaking the car window to get in they booted the daylights out of the car door. Intelligent. Wouldn't it have been easier and more practical (there I go again) to just bust the window? Male macho thing, I guess. Or they were freaking out.

All the way to my brother's place I'm really tense and hoping this poor woman is OK and looking at the clock, hoping we'll get to the airport in time. I called my brother to let him know what was happening and he's freaking out about missing his flight. It's way too early for this to happen. As well, it was very foggy and I really have to watch the roadside for animals. Roadkill in the country is common. I don't wanna kill any little furry creatures and certainly don't want to be hitting a deer or moose.

When I arrive at my brother's, I run into the house "Have to go.... NOW! Cramps." Need I say more? And doesn't that just figure? I shudder to think what the drive would have been like for me otherwise. He's freaking and I'm yelling "It's OK... I'm fast." And I was. And I drove within the limits posted (kinda) and got him there in plenty of time for baggage checking and security clearance. I did go in there to make sure he found his way OK as he's not a frequent flyer and I know he's stressed. I had some serious bed head going on and was wearing my "NEVER wear these in public" crocks on my feet. OH WELL! The city girl in me was dying but the country bumkin that I now am just had to shrug it off. It's not like all eyes were on me whatsoever, right?

And the lady in the car... she wasn't dead... she wasn't old as I wondered. I had noticed the Manitoba plates on the car so I was perplexed at how she ended up as she did... automatic conclusion was "elderly". She was in her 30's, said she had taken some medication earlier in the day that made her drowsy so she thought she pulled over so she could 'rest' or whatever. This is very odd...it's 4 am and she just stopped on the curve and shut off her car. Ended up that she was out of gas; the cops tried to start the car but it kept stalling. She had also peed herself and my hubs notice a sticker on the window that had been put there previously by the police. Maybe she has a history of some odd behaviours while driving? I have no clue but she's alive and everything turned out all right.

All I wanted was to just to go back to sleep. Not gonna happen.

Doggy Cat

Will you play with me please? If you don't, I will bug you until you do!


Yeah... this cat, CeCe, came to us as a wee thing. I worried about Blind Guy hurting her or him getting his eyes scratched. Imagine my horror at watching him put her entire little head into his mouth one day but he never hurt her. He often nibbles her back with his front teeth and she seems to enjoy getting the 'massage'.

I sometimes wonder if she thinks she's a dog. She tends to copy things the dogs do... begging at the table, fetching her favorite toy and retrieving it so I can throw it again. This fetch thing is now demanded by her and my refusal is met by a constant meowing which annoys the daylights out of both me and hubs.


This seems to have become her necessary playtime with me so I spend fifteen minutes or so throwing a tin foil ball for her to chase, many of which end up under the fridge, or stove, or furniture. It's easier for me to just make a new ball than crawl around on hands and knees fishing them out of there resting places.

Then, cleaning day and some results.... (this was under just the fridge)

My Poor Little Blind Guy

Colby is full of zeal. OK, not in this photo. He rests with just as much zeal but not for too long at a time. He loves to bark, loves to play, loves to run. He has favorite toys that have quirky names (thanks to hubs). He has a queak-queak, a tick-tick, a kong, a pull-pull and a chew-chew. These toys (in order) are a knobby squeaky ball, a stick, a kong, a kong with a stretchy band attached, and a thick twist of rubber that is great for chewing.

This morning, he was let out by hubs for his pee time. Now, I always go out and keep my eye on him so he doesn't do his business in the neighbour's yard or decide to go on an unsupervised romp. Hubs does not do this. He just lets him out and then goes to the kitchen to put coffee on. I was still in bed, struggling to open my eyes, aware that my blind guy was out there alone and trusting he'd be a good boy (which he is most of the time) and will just make his way to the front door.

After a little bit, to get Colby's attention, hubs takes the queak-queak outside and 'queaks' it. This always gets his attention. He came running, full tilt and ran hard into the old and heavy cast iron 'fire pit' in the back yard. OUCH! This is when our hearts break for him. He's usually aware of everything in the yard and dodges things successfully but his excitement gets the better of him at times. He suffered a gash under his totally blind eye and another small cut between his eyes.

Thankfully, these injuries don't happen often but he's one tough dog. He carries on like nothing happened at all, barking, playing, romping and all of that. We thought we'd help take his mind off his pain (I'm sure it was smarting) and took him and Mikey for a long two hour walk on a lonely dirt road. He was in doggie glory as there's nothing (much) to get in his way and he can run and bark to his heart's content.

After the Rain Comes the Mosquito

Kim, you made me do this and it's making me itchy.

Ain't Gonna Rain No More

Well, here's hoping. Sick of the rain... sick, sick, sick. So, sign along with the bouncing ball and maybe we can just chase away those heavy dark clouds!

The Black Fly Song

While the song may be about how bad the black flies are in Northern Ontario, they are a nuisance here in Southeastern New Brunswick as well. Finally, yesterday, a beautiful warm sunny day so I plunked myself down on my outdoor swing, in the cool of the shade, overlooking the river. It wasn't too long before I began to itch here and there realizing those tiny little black flies were feasting on my person. Having a thick head of hair is no deterrent, either. They are quite adept at reaching the scalp, flying up pant legs or sleeves without being felt or noticed.

A few summers back, when we were country newbies, hubs decided to shave his head as the weather warmed. It actually suited him quite well! So, one day he trotted off to work in the garden, sans bug spray and/or sunscreen. Well, it was near the death of him. His poor scalp was eaten alive by black flies and flaming red from sunburn. In fact, he had been bitten so badly that he came down with flu-like symptoms. My poor baby.

I came home one afternoon to find him lying on the couch with a fever. My first view was of the top of his head. I gasped, then my jaw dropped as I stared at what looked like an alien reclining on my couch. The skin had tightened from being sunburned, then cracked and all those bites had been weeping. It was not a pretty site but I bit my tongue and made sure he wasn't needing a trip to the emergency war. He was overcome with discomfort, but he lives to talk about it. As much as we both dislike using bug spray, it's become a necessary evil.

And with that, I'll leave you with a little song about the lovely little black fly.

Dinner Conversation... "I wonder what the Locals are eating tonight?"

No offense to the Locals but we don't eat like them. By "Locals" I mean the Acadian people for the most part, who were born and raised here and whose lives are steeped in the Acadian culture.

Traditional meals eaten here are not foreign to my hubs nor me. My Grandmother (on my Mom's side) was an Acadian, as was my hub's dad. We are familiar with Acadian culture - the diet - in the traditional sense, but we are not raised here. And so it goes.... the conversation, that is.

"hmmm... wonder what the locals are eating tonight?" I ask, as we dine on any number of gourmet delights. Pictured here are spring rolls of julienne carrot and cucumber, bean sprouts, shrimp, green onion, cilantro and rice noodles served with a delicious sauce of lime, fish sauce, pepper flakes and a host of other goodies I can't name because I didn't make it. My job is to enjoy. Nuff said.

And I answer the question, too. "Oh, chicken frico, poutine rapé, rappie pie, fish cakes, boiled dinner, pork & beans...." OK. To be fair, I'll include in the Acadian diet some lobster, clams, mussels... those incredible seafoods that are deliciously popular (and much more expensive) in the 'big' cities yet comfortably affordable here.

And so we laugh, eat, enjoy and give thanks.

On those occasional foul weather days, though, there is nothing quite like a big heaping plate of comfort food... the kind Mom or Grandma would dish up back in the day. The kind that reminds of us of our reason for coming here... simple but rich in flavour and satisfying to the soul. We are enjoying the best of both worlds when it comes to our culinary tastes. And I don't even have to cook. How sweet is that?