Burning Wood

There’s nothing quite so homey as a wood burning stove.  Unlike the on/off cycle of a forced air furnace, wood heat radiates continuously. When you’re cold stand near, if you’re hot move away - something pleasantly simple in that idea. They don’t require electricity to run. Fuel can be stored in your yard. It doesn't have to be buried in underground pipes, delivered by a large tank truck, or run through electrical lines. It works in a power outage. 

Our wood stove is the center of our home. I hang my bread rising bowl in a net bag on a beam above the stove for its first rising. I heat tortillas on its surface. I dry mittens and boots behind it. I make pot roasts, stews, curries, and dog food on it all winter. It’s like having a non-electric slow-cooker going all the time. And, it keeps us toasty warm!

Having lived with a wood burning stove for 45 years I would not like to be without one. I’m never really warm in a house that relies solely on a forced air furnace. And in the north a wood stove back-up (or an efficient fireplace) is not just a pleasant luxury, it’s a matter of safety. Propane jells at -40 and can stop flowing to your house. Furnaces require electricity to run and power outages do happen. Shivering while indoors with your winter boots and coat on, freezing water pipes…not my idea of fun.

A wood stove is like an old friend. You have to get to know all sides of its character. Each has its own personality, its own quirks that must be recognized and respected if you want a good steady fire. Stove manufacturers must follow safety and emission regulations. You can get older ones with no rating but, if you value your life, the environment, and/or want home insurance, you need to buy an approved stove and have it properly installed. For 12 years we lived with no electricity or running water and a variety of wood stoves. I had an old Empire cook stove with a water jacket on the side which was invaluable to me. Always having hot water on hand was great as was its large oven that baked everything at 400F. For heat we had tin air-tights and a beefed up version of the same with a thermostat and cast iron top called an Ashley. We eventually purchased a propane space heater for the living room and a small cooking stove for the kitchen called a Baker’s Oven. This stove, developed in Australia, makes the kitchen toasty warm but I wouldn’t want to rely on this size and style of stove as my only source of heat. The fire box is short (10”) and none too tall either so keeping it going overnight can be a challenge, especially in really cold weather. Wood burns faster in cold weather, even with the damper and air intake shut - something about the atmospheric pressure???

The oven is on the bottom. I use it seldom because it’s hard to regulate the heat and is small, holding only 2 loaves of bread at a time. But it’s there and can be used in an emergency (no gas, no electricity, no money?), so in my mind it’s well worth having.

If it’s cold and I want to keep the fire burning overnight I try to put one or two large diameter logs on a good bed of coals and fill all the remaining space in the fire box with smaller pieces. If it’s really cold (remember, wood burns faster when it’s cold) it needs stoking in the middle of the night. A healthy glass of water before bed generally ensures a visit to the bathroom and a fire stoking opportunity. There are woods that burn hotter and slower too. It’s nice to have a bit of local birch or tamarack on hand for colder than -30C nights. If it’s warmer I just stoke the fire before bed and let it go out.

Ours is a northern home. Everything that could be damaged by freezing is by intention on the kitchen side. Water lines are located in interior walls. The spare bedroom is above the kitchen. If the world fell apart we would not have to depend on propane delivery to survive. We could close off the living room/bedroom side of our house and live on the kitchen side. Or we could install a wood heater in the living room. For me this is comforting. I guess I am a bit of a survivalist. I also seem to find a stash of jarred, dried, and canned food comforting, along with a fair amount of dried beans, rice, flour, and sugar, and a cellar stocked with plenty of root vegetables.

We currently have12 dogs! The growing guardian pups are consuming unbelievable amounts of food. At 10 weeks they weigh about 10kg and each are eating more than 4 cups of dog food daily. We have good friends who provide us with butchering scraps from their deer hunting so I supplement commercial dog food with doggy stew. There’s a big pot of it bubbling away on my wood stove right now. And I am nice and warm as I tap the keys on my iPad.

Magnetic Slime

         I’m not much of an on-line shopper. But this Christmas season I succumbed to some of FaceBook’s ads as they streamed through my brain and captured my interest. FaceBook (thinks it) knows me. It has been watching me for years now. When people put ads on FB they choose their target audience. I know this because I have occasionally placed ads to promote my blog. As far as their “accurate” profile of me, well FB has slotted me into a few pretty strange categories, but many of the products I’ve seen on my page are right down my alley. 

     My youngest granddaughter loves to make and play with “slime”. If you find her you find slime. So who could blame me when there it was - the perfect Christmas gift - MAGNETIC SLIME!

        And, as November wore on, a few more products looked pretty good, especially since I didn’t have to brave my way through crowds and malls to find them. The trouble is I’m still waiting for that slime to arrive. An e-mail says it’s on the way - from Laos. Maybe the magnetic ingredient triggered a customs panic. Or maybe it’s so small it got lost in the dark corner of a shipping container, never to appear at all. Tracking says it’s coming - maybe it’ll be a May birthday gift instead.

Of the five things I ordered in early November only one arrived before Christmas. One came on Wednesday after Christmas, another in the first week of January. Two are yet to arrive. The companies hooking you with their ads never tell you their product is being shipped on a slow boat from VietNam, or Laos, or China, or……… 

I think there’s an old song about a slow boat to China. Yep, Googled it - Bing Crosby, Peggy Lee…. But it was about love…. I’m wandering…. Traveling brain syndrome …..

I should have been suspicious I guess. Memories can be flighty but I remember some jewelry I ordered a few years back, again for Christmas. I had a choice for fast (on time for Christmas, $60) or regular ($6) shipping - from VietNam. But at least I knew. 

Shipping time is one part of the story, but a person also needs to be aware that shipping costs and exchange rates can nearly double the cost of your purchase. So, if you’re willing to pay double the price for some cool trinket for your grandchild (and what grandparent isn’t willing?) - go for it!

The other difficulty I’ve encountered with on-line shopping is that product representation may be a bit beyond reality. More quality can shine through on a product photo where less actually exists. So far, and I’m feeling a little lucky in this regard, I am more or less satisfied with the “stuff” I’ve received.  

There are sites where on-line shopping holds no surprises. I’m just not all that sure FaceBook ads are the best place to find them. I think I’ll stick with sites that state clearly where the product is being shipped from, can give an approximate arrival date, and clearly show shipping costs, taxes, etc. in Canadian dollars. Many people love on-line shopping, are even able to return goods successfully when the something is off, but there does seem to be another one of those learning curves involved in the process. 

“Never stop learning, Never stop learning! Never stop learning!”

Downward Dog

I have invented a new exercise routine, requiring no equipment purchase and guaranteed to improve balance and reach. I call it “downward dog” but it has no relationship to the yoga position of the same name. You need:

               1) a very large, quite old and arthritic Akbash dog,  

               2) and 3) two medium sized Border Collies, and

               4) one small but weighty, deaf Lhasa Apso, Jack Russell cross**.

These four pieces of household equipment simply need to remain in places of their own choosing, a position which seems to suit them quite well and requires no encouragement.

In my case dog number one will move but prefers not to, makes quite a show of creaking up to a standing position and lumbering out of the way. He stays in my kitchen (his size and copious quantities of shedding hair have made this a necessity), usually on one of the stress relief mats in front of the sink or stove or on the door mat, and he willingly accommodates my exercise program by always being exactly where I want to work. 

Dogs 2 and 3 are excellent contributors to the program. Anyone who has ever met a Border Collie knows that when focused on anything they sit very still, stare, sometimes tremble, and are absolutely oblivious to anything other than the subject of their focus.They are also affectionate, jealous of one another, and tend to vie for attention via soft frisbee, ear scratches, or jumping on chairs and laps.

The fourth dog - well he’s privileged. He knows it’s his right to sleep like a stone on the bed right where I’d like to move my legs, take his rightful position next to me when sitting, or reside under the footrest of my recliner.

The secret to this exercise routine is simple. Work around and/or over these immobile pieces of equipment. Stretch to reach household items without causing a disturbance, avoid tails and paws by delicately stepping between them in a ballet-like position, gently push bodies aside when absolutely necessary, and acquire a sort of sliding gait at night to avoid collision. This exercise routine can easily be practiced daily (and nightly) with no special set up on your part, no expensive exercise clothing or shoes, and is a spontaneous activity which has, at times, the ability to get your adrenaline pumping.

• Caution, this routine is not recommended for everyone. Extreme caution must be taken to avoid falls and/or strain from twisting into peculiar positions. And, as is always suggested before beginning any exercise routine, be sure to consult your doctor.
• ** Note: Other dog breeds may be substituted - perhaps an old Bullmastiff, a Cocker Spaniel and a couple of toy Poodles…

A Rant

            So I'm a "Trekkie" from way back, have watched every single Startrek episode over and over again. So I was excited to check out Startrek Discovery. Yuk! They turned it into just another war show, killing, more war. Clingons are the enemy, weaponizing  sentient beings... It stinks.      

            One of the major aspects of Startrek has always been that a moral dilemma is presented and a moral solution is sought. Not so on Startrek Discovery.

    An unfortunate new pattern has surfaced in American films. The "good guys" are also bad, just not as bad as the bad guys, or bad for a good reason. Heroes these days are killers, destroyers. You have to watch an Australian, British or Canadian film to see an actual good guy deal with a bad or difficult situation.

    Along with accepting bad for good reasons surfaces a "My country can do no wrong" mind set. If they appear to do wrong it's because they can not achieve their goal any other way, which somehow makes wrong right. This attitude justifies torture, assassinations, drones, support of drug cartels, election interference, weapons of mass destruction...

    Films reflect our society. They also influence society. In many ways the US has melded with Hollywood and neither of them is taking responsibility for their effect upon their own citizens or the rest of the world.

 

What a Difference a Day Makes!

I have been absent from my blogging world for nearly a month. A holiday you say? Hardly. I’ve been in Colorado helping out my older sister who had a catastrophic fall, breaking her hip. One little tilt, a wobble not recovered, an older frail woman with other contributing health issues loses her balance and a major disruption settles into her life…and mine as well. Suddenly a medical proxy, signed over 20 years ago, has a surgeon asking my permission for my sister to have a hip operation. “She will not survive without it,” he claims. “She will not be able to get up, pneumonia could easily be contracted. No operation will result in sure death.” Whew!

By the time I got to Colorado my sister had been in re-hab for a week. For awhile there was hope she’d be able to return to her apartment in a senior’s independent living complex. But hope gave way to reality - she had to move somewhere where she could get assistance with daily living. My sister could not wrap her mind around this fact. She wanted to “go home” to her apartment. She still does.

While she remained in re-hab, trying to stand, trying to walk, and having a hard time staying positive, I began searching for a place for her, touring facilities from nursing homes, to assisted living apartments, to what is referred to as “memory care”.  At night I began packing her possessions. One fact was clear, she would have to downsize to a one bedroom apartment, to a studio apartment, or possibly to what is essentially a hospital room. Just 8 months ago she moved from her large house to this two bedroom suite. That move was difficult, a hard decision for her to make, a life’s worth of accumulated memories filling every nook and cranny of the home she’d lived in for decades. Eight months, such a short time.

So I did my best to keep what would be cosy and familiar and find places to distribute the rest, making judgement calls on what should be kept and what should not. It was not a role I enjoyed. I had help though, lots of it, both in hard work and understanding. My sister has a fine group of friends. A cousin even showed up from back east. I couldn’t have managed without them.

For now things are doing okay. I’m home. My sister’s in her new home. Our connection for now is the phone.

While I was in Colorado a young friend was in a terrible vehicle accident. What a difference that day is making for her. Yesterday another friend fell down the stairs and is now in hospital, and another was in a motorcycle accident also with life changing results.

What can a person do when life flips over like this? Some would say pray, but prayer is passive. It puts the shoe on the other foot, a foot not even of this world. So what do we do? We rally - as the one directly affected, as a family member, as a friend, as a community. We rally because we must, because life is sometimes hard. We rally because we love our friends, our families, our community. We do whatever we can do. We do the best we can.

The Purrrfect Visitor

“Holy cow” I said, “there’s a cat outside!” The surprise and concern reflected in my voice came from the sure knowledge that cats do not survive on our farm. Josie, our lovable and watchful sheep guardian dog, hates cats, hates cats so much that she deals out an instant sentence of death the moment she sees one. Fortunately Josie was not at home. She was off at another farm doing the mating dance with a handsome male Guardian dog. My husband said, “So what are we supposed to do with a cat? Leave it alone, just let it wander off.”

The cat slipped out of my view. I secretly hoped she had moved on. But no, I went outside for some wood (we were suffering from an unseasonable cold snap or perhaps a seasonable warning sign to tell us it's time to prepare for the coming winter) and there she was, digging a wee bed in the wood chips and purring. She (actually he) did not run away. I walked right up to him and picked him up. He immediately cuddled in, rubbed against me like cats will do, and said in his little cat way, “Love me! Aren’t I just the cutest little orange kitten you ever did see!”

Now what…. My husband didn’t look too happy when I walked back in with the cat. We wondered where in the world the cat had come from, our nearest neighbour being over a mile away. “Maybe it’s Charlie’s cat,” I said. But no, a phone call negated that possibility. “I bet it belongs to Frank,” I said. “Maybe he jumped in the truck when you were over there last time.”  I went to the storage shed, found a small kennel, and my husband took the kitten over to Frank’s place and dropped him off with all the other cats at their shelter. Frank was not at home to identify the cat.

A day later my husband was chatting with the fellow who owns Josie’s mate. “By the way,” he said, “You haven't seen a little orange kitten, have you?”

Whoops…! The kitten, it turned out, belonged to his children and must have hitched a ride when my husband took Josie down to be bred.

So my husband went over to the neighbour’s place to fetch the kitten back. “I wondered where that cat came from,” the neighbour said. “I have a few kittens around but didn't remember this one, and he's so friendly! Most of my cats are pretty wild. He got a good meal though.”

The cat stayed with us for three days until we could get organized to take him home. It turned out that one of our Border Collies treated the cat like he was a demon straight from the bowels of hell, so, for his own safety the cat was banished to the bathroom for his stay. I forgot how three dimensional cats are. Having no kitty litter on hand, I gave him a box of dirt for his litter box. Before he went home there were little brown paw prints on every level surface of the bathroom! But I didn’t mind. He purred his way into my heart the moment I first picked him up.

My goodness, how happy those kids, and that kitten, were when he got home! He took many a whirling trip around the house first, and was playing happily in the barn when my husband left for home.

Buttercup Squash

I wonder, if summer never stopped - would this one squash plant take over our whole yard?

Enough for winter and still producing, but soon a fall frost will put an end to that!