THE GREAT AWAKENING

These past few days I’ve been experiencing the subtle yet irresistible feeling of awakening.  It probably has something to do with going from 50 below zero to watching the snow melt off the deck, but I think it’s more than that.  The news programs are shifting their reporting from the number of cases and deaths caused by Covid to the number of vaccinations accomplished: it feels like we are putting two winters behind us at once.

As is always the case, I am fighting the urge to plant seeds because I know it’s too early and my house will look like a jungle long before I can move those spindly plants out to my greenhouse.  Mother Nature doesn’t germinate anything for weeks to come so I would be wise to hold off a little longer.  The urge to see life and the colour green is strong, though.  I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.

Also, the load of laundry with sheets and towels in it almost made it to the clothes line on Monday.  I long for the heavenly scent of fresh air to fall asleep in, but common sense won out – they would have needed finishing up in the dryer anyway.  But soon, very soon!

I swear I saw a gopher run across the road on my way home from town yesterday.

All the dog bones and deer hides are resurfacing in the front yard as the snow recedes ... and I actually look forward to going out and cleaning up that mess because it means something to do outside.

And, the anticipation to sleep with the bedroom window open is powerful.  This privilege is the counter balance of my loving spouse insisting on flannel sheets during the winter months.  In retrospect I can see there are certain things that should be carefully negotiated into a prenuptial agreement.

All of these things are the annual harbingers of the season of spring that everyone in the Northern hemisphere rejoices in by mid February.  The end of Covid winter is so much more magnificent.

Yesterday I received a phone call from Sask Health to set up an appointment for my 100 year old mother-in-law to get her vaccination.  Although I had been waiting for this to happen, even expecting it to happen, when the call finally came it felt a little like being told she had won a lottery.  It was exciting news.  I drove to town specifically to tell her, partly because she doesn’t hear well over the phone, but also because it seemed like a celebration was in order.  The news was bigger than just her appointment, it signalled that we are moving past the front line workers and into the general population – Covid spring was on its way!

On the horizon is the precious treat of just dropping in on a friend for coffee – in their own kitchen, the more the merrier.  Soon we will be able to converse with random folks anywhere and everywhere without spending the first five minutes trying to picture the bottom half of their face so we know who we are talking to.  Just think of how much fun it’s going to be to go to in-person auction sales and ball games and dance recitals and community fund raisers.  Won’t it be nice not to have to limit who can pay their respects at funerals, or who can come to Christmas dinner?

I have a friend who lives in Manitoba.  We normally get together for lunch, laughter and a girl talk therapy session a couple times a year.  Obviously it has been forever since this has happened – never was the need for this kind of therapy been greater, or more ill advised.  Our next lunch is liable to be an extra long one!

It hasn’t been all bad.  I have been educated in the ways of Zoom meetings and all this isolation time has me writing more.  We have saved all kinds of money – our fuel bill is way down because we don’t go anywhere, our vacation fund is untouched, and I haven’t gone shopping in over a year. 

I know that the time line for putting our masks away is not a short one, and with the new variants popping up there may be some adjustments to make, but we are on the right path. 

In some ways we are kinda back to normal – aren’t we all watching curling like good little Canadians?  Maybe by this time next year we can do it the way we like to ... in person.  Or even better – on a tv set in Arizona.

 

JUST US, GOING CRAZY

DAILY JOURNAL: FEBRUARY 12, 2021

ME:  So it’s another day, another dollar again, eh?  Well, I guess it’s probably more than one dollar.  I should really divide my pension check by the number of days in the month and see.  And bonus!  It’s February!  28 days!  Best write that down though, while I look for my calculator.

DOG:  So it’s another day out there.  Come on somebody!  The sun’s coming up and I need to go outside!  Not to pee, I’ll save that for later.  I just want to stand at the edge of the deck and growl at the blinking light on the school bus a mile away. 

CAT:  So, it’s another day, eh?  I’ve been thumping on this door for an hour making it sound like I’m desperate to get out of the laundry room.  Ah, there!  The door is open ... I will now pause, stretch, wash my face, and sashay over toward the deck door to pretend I want out that one too.  The dog beat me to it.  I will wait until he’s back inside and all the humans are sitting down.

ME:  And the pandemic didn’t go away while we slept last night so I guess we should sit down and listen to the latest statistics.  I will just take my mug of coffee and my iPad and go sit in my comfy chair ... darned cat!  That’s my chair!  Move! 

DOG:  How come that stupid cat has furniture privileges?  No fair!  I’ve been here for years and I’m not allowed on any furniture!  Ha!  He just got the boot.  Serves him right being all high and mighty!  Oh no!  He heard that ... stop that!  Leave my ears alone!  I don’t play cat games! I must not wag my tail!  Don’t wag my tail!  Don’t give the jerk a moving target to play with!

ME:  Eenie meenie miny mo – vacuum first?  Or laundry?  Or dishes?  If it wasn’t 50 below zero I would go for a walk.  Oh crap!  Did I say that out loud?  The dog is looking at me funny.  Can he read minds too?  I AM NOT GOING FOR A WALK!

CAT:  Well, this is boring.  I need to liven things up a bit.  What shall it be?  Shall I dig in her house plants?  Get in behind the TV and play with the wires?  Torment the dog?  Insist someone refill my food dish as it is only one quarter full?  Decisions, decisions.

DOG:  The woman is demented.  There she goes again.  Up and down the stairs.  Over and over.  Nobody can forget what they went for that many times in a row!  Hey!  It’s a dog bone!  You went for a frozen soup bone for good old Turbo!  Would I lie to you?  Don’t wag my tail!  Don’t wag my tail!  Stupid cat!

ME:  The eternal question – what to make for supper?  We should all give up food for lent.

CAT:  Hey!  Somebody let me out of here!  I’m in the porch closet!  Why would anyone shut the door while I was in here?

DOG:  Hehehehehe

ME:  I am being stalked by both the dog and the cat.  They smell thawing hamburger and feel entitled.  If it wasn’t 50 below zero I would banish them both until after supper.  I just tripped over the dog and the cat is on his third crazed stampede from one end of the house to the other.  We are all going shack wacky.

DOG:  Look who’s judging the cat for unnecessary trips to nowhere, crazy stairs lady.

CAT:  Man that dog is dumb!  Here I am distracting the human so he can grab the meat and run.  And all he’s doing is standing there, drooling all over the floor!

ME:  Should I make a dessert too?  So many calories, but we really enjoy a sweet treat after supper.  Let me check my Fitbit count.  Not too shabby!  Well over the 6000 steps so far and ten flights of stairs.  You know if I do 15 minutes on the elliptical, or maybe 10 more flights of stairs I’m good for a bowl of rice pudding!

DOG:  Now what!  That woman is nuttier than a fruit cake.  She’s looking at that pretend walker again but that’s where the man always hangs his coats and it’s full.  And so, away she goes with the stairs again!  A bone!  A bone, I say!  Look eager and happy.  She will want to reward me if I am happy!  Pant!  Smile!  Wag my tail!

Oh god!  DON’T wag my tail!  Stupid cat!

CAT:  Hehehehe

ME:  What’s this sticky note all about?  A dollar sign and the word ‘February’. 

 

WORTH EVERY PENNY

My Facebook memories tell me that I have been retired from my town job – you know the one that paid money and had a pension - for eight years as of today.  I must have blinked.  It can’t have been that long.

I’ve been trying to remember what I did the next day to celebrate my freedom from the 8:00 to 5:00 grind.  Chances are Facebook will let me know tomorrow morning but let’s hope it was something wild and crazy like sleeping in.

I do recall my motivation for leaving the employment world behind me, though.  Heaven knows I tried to explain it to my significant other enough times.  It’s not that he didn’t approve of the move, it’s that he didn’t understand it.  I had seven more years before I was retirement age – I could work that much longer and get that much higher pension.  Why on earth wouldn’t I do that?  I looked at my bank account and what my pension would be without the extra seven years and thought “I think I’ll be fine”.

I had kind of the same conversation with our accountant around the same time.  I know it’s her job to be all about the money but my response was that if worst came to worst I could always get another job and make more money, but there is no way to make more time.  When you run out of time you just plain run out of time.

Maybe the seven year difference in the two pension amounts is the monthly instalment I’ve paid for the extra years of freedom I’ve had.  Regardless, I’m happy with my purchase; it was the right thing to do.

Another thing I remember about my decision was that the ‘freedom’ I spoke of wasn’t being free of the actual work I was doing – being the postmaster of my own hometown was a great job.  I liked the people I worked with and the public we served.  I found the work interesting, I liked the contact with my community, and my employer encouraged me to grow my opportunities within the company.  It was everything a person could ask for in a job and I’m glad I had it.  I am also very glad it belongs to someone else now.

The freedom I looked forward to was the kind that would let me choose on a day-to-day basis what I was going to do on any particular day.  I could go for coffee with a friend and not get back until it was time for supper.  I could garden from sunup to sundown.  I could do a day trip; heck I could do as many as I wanted!  I could be the kind of grandma who was open to sleepovers almost any old day of the week.  I could read books.  I could write books!  I could sit on my deck with a glass of wine at the end of a busy day and watch the sun go down. 

And I could repeat it all the next day.

Or pick something completely different.

And now Facebook tells me I’m already eight years into it.  These past eight years are the extra ones I bought for myself.  My flower and vegetable gardens have expanded probably tenfold and I have a small greenhouse to play in.  My yard is my pride and joy.  I serve my community on the Tourism Board.  Depending on the time of day and who the company is there is always coffee/iced tea/wine/water to be enjoyed with conversation on our deck.  I have written a book and am working on another one.  If Covid ever goes away there are some places I want to travel to, but in the meanwhile I’ve got lots of other things to do.

Of course I am hoping for even more years, we all do.  But the only ones we are sure of are the ones we’ve already had and these past eight have been worth every penny.