THE SUMMER OF ’23 – SO FAR

Back in the olden days when summer holidays were the period of time between one grade and the next at school, I was the kind of kid who worried about having nothing to write about in the inevitable “what I did on my summer holidays” assignment in September.  Other kids went on trips or had cabins at the lake or got to go to the city or something.  All we ever did was ride bikes over to our uncle’s place and shell peas for mom or go pick wild strawberries and put pennies on the railroad tracks for the train to squish flat.  Yes, I am that old – back in the olden days there were trains.

It's a pity that I’m not headed back to school this September.  It’s not even all the way through July and I have enough for an essay.

I hardly know where to start.  Maybe when our truck was pronounced dead in the middle of seeding?  And the debate that followed as to what to do about the situation.  Buy? Or try to fix?  And if the answer was buy, new or used?  And how to go about this vehicle shopping when he was still out on a tractor.  The job was delegated to our son-in-law who found us a good deal in Selkirk, Manitoba so summer ’23 started off with a trip to see the Manitoba grandkids and driving home in a truck whose A/C didn’t work, but that’s another story and it’s fixed now so no worries.

Next up was the July long weekend with three grandkids on an extended sleep-over and another family here for a two-night stay.  We crammed in a wiener roast and a s’more fest, the kids blew through maybe 100 water balloons and the lawn around the trampoline got well watered with hose and sprinkler activity before their parents picked them up and took them camping.  I had a few days to catch my breath before I spent a few days at the lake too.

By that time I had company coming from B.C.  Imagine, people who are crazy enough to think Penticton to Redvers is an easy drive.  And two days’ visit here.  And two days back.  I get tired just thinking about it.

It was a great visit though.  Those mountain folk had to have some prairie farmland lessons on what canola looks like and when it’s ready for harvest (ie: not in the flower stage) and what the different crops look like at 60 miles mph.  But that’s okay, I probably couldn’t tell peaches from apples at that speed either.  There was even lessons on how to drive a hay conditioner that will give bragging rights for years to come – especially when I sent them a picture of the farmer who gave the lessons stuck up to his axels before they were even out of Saskatchewan.  They are unconvinced that there is any wildlife besides gophers and grasshoppers.  One raccoon roadkill is the one and only critter they saw until they were back in B.C.  That’s got to be some kind of record.

I came through with the requested pie, cinnamon buns and raspberry muffins for them and they gifted me with a case of assorted Okanogan wines.  Win/Win.

To round out their adventure we took them out for the pure prairie ambiance one enjoys at a bar and steak pit.  Thank you, Maryfield Hotel – you never disappoint.

It is back to some kind of normal now.  I’ve picked raspberries and peas, weeded garden and mowed lawn, and made beet pickles – my hands are an intriguing mix of purple skin and black nails at the moment and my kitchen smells very ‘pickley’.

It’s ironic that the very things that I thought were too boring to write about when I was a kid – garden, company, staying home – are now enriching experiences that I’m happy to write about.

Attitude and perspective – that’s what makes us old folks wise.  

Now I just need someone to grade my paper and give me an ‘A’.