Vibrations

Vibrations

Is it just me, or do you feel it too? Cities vibrate, on a discernible level. My body parts tend to notice. Vibrations are everywhere, always. People who live in cities seem to be unaware of these wobbles, shimmies and shakes, or they have learned to ignore them. Something that’s always there in your environment, something you do not perceive as a threat, tends to take residence in a comfortable spot in your sub-conscious mind - like continual traffic noise or the smell of a certain industry, or a floor gently swaying. But I am an outlander! I can feel the vibration of highway traffic through the soles of my feet. In an LRT station I can feel the train resonating on its tracks well before I see it. The floor in a mall’s upper level moves almost imperceptibly to the rhythm of hundreds of footfalls. Elevators tingle. Escalators shimmy. Music, especially drumming, resonates in my chest. When I step from a vehicle I continue to feel it’s forward motion. Road construction crews hammer away at the very base I stand on. White noise fills all the spaces. Sounds from the natural world barely penetrate my ears. Everything thrums. Everyone hurries, arriving in time to wait.

I have just journeyed home after 8 days in the heart of the empire, stateside. I jumped out of my motel bed at 4:00am Monday morning, waited a few minutes in the lobby for my air porter, zoomed on a series of fast moving freeways through dense fog, got temporarily lost amidst the air terminal’s construction upgrade, checked in, snaked my way through security, went down 2 levels on an escalator, took a speeding train to the second of three concourses, ascended from the underground on 2 more escalators, rode 3 sets of moving sidewalks to gate 52 of 95, then sat down to wait 4 hours until my plane boarded. The entire airport vibrated.

My plane was a small jet, about 100 passengers. As I waited I couldn’t help but notice my minority status - only 4 women! Weird? Must have been that Monday morning shuttle for the suits to return to their company’s far north connection. The plane’s g-force pushed me back in my seat as we roared down the runway, then a bump and that slight sensation of weightlessness as we lifted off. A two hour flight, then a two and a half hour drive home. I thought I’d sleep on the final leg of this journey, but couldn’t.

Alberta looked bleak to me, the brownish gray Spring arriving with a few patches of dirty snow remaining at roadsides, the sun refusing to penetrate the clouds. It didn’t feel like home until I was surrounded by farms, the bustling industrial areas left behind. 

At home the sun was out. I tucked myself into our willow loveseat in a sheltered corner up by the house and soaked in its healing rays. Two geese were courting on the frozen lake. I heard no sound but the calls of birds and the flap of their wings, a dog barking, overnight the patter of a gentle rain. 

It is quiet. It is still. I am no longer vibrating. Ahhhhh.

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mltipton.blogspot.com, https://www.facebook.com/Northof543/, March 28, 2019

I apologize, my blog app no longer supports photos unless I navigate my way through some google change I haven’t been able to figure out. If you want to see pics with my posts you’ll have to find me on Facebook :(

Devilish Eggs

“She can’t even boil an egg!” was a good description of my cooking abilities when I first married. My husband was more accomplished than I but promptly quit using his culinary skills the moment he taught me to make white sauce. Zoom forward 50 years and he has recently acquired a few new cooking specialties - steaks, roasts and BBQ’d ribs, which gives me an occasional rest from the challenging and never ending reality of meal planning and preparation.

Living a goodly distance from any restaurant with a cuisine more varied than a deluxe burger, this daily chore seldom sees any break in routine. But, being resourceful folk out here in the boonies we solved the lack of worthwhile nearby restaurants by frequently engaging in a marvelous activity known as the “pot-luck supper”. Pot-lucks are always a treat. Each family simply contributes whatever they wish - an entree, a dessert, a salad, a specialty of their house - and somehow the variety of culinary delights always seems to balance perfectly. Pot-lucks provide a huge variety of foods to choose from, a good visit with the neighbors, a shared clean-up and a wonderful meal that someone else cooked!

Some cooks have a tendency to bring the same dish to nearly every pot-luck. One of my friends brings “death by chocolate”, another brings quiche, another perogies. Me - I bring deviled eggs. You would think, after all these years of practice, that making deviled eggs would be a snap, and, with the exception of getting those devilish eggs peeled, it is. But getting a hard boiled egg to release its shell easily can be a frustrating experience. 

Everyone has a favorite never-fail method for doing this and I’ve tried many of them. Trouble is many of the never-fail methods failed. But now, thanks to my old Fanny Farmer cook book which I got as a wedding present in 1967, I have finally mastered the hard boiled egg... usually. Cover eggs with cold water (make a couple extra just in case), bring to a boil then simmer, covered, for 12-15 minutes. Remove from heat and immediately add cold water to the pot. Run cold water on the eggs until you can touch them, dry them off, return them to your egg carton and refrigerate overnight. Next day they peel just fine. I’ve tried this with farm fresh eggs and store bought eggs too. This has been working consistently for me for quite a while.

There’s a lot of room for experiment in the filling department but I usually smash the yolks until fairly fine, then add mayonnaise, a few squeezes of French’s mustard (hey, it’s made in Canada!), about 1/4 cup of diced onion, 1/4 cup of diced sweet pickles (home made), and a shake or two of Montreal Steak spice. I fill the eggs as full as I can then top them off with a sprinkling of paprika.

Note: It’s probably not a good idea to let your husband carry the eggs for you. He may not realize they have to be carried in an upright position. Not following this maxim could cause a devilish amount of havoc for you and your deviled eggs.

The New Canadian Food Guide

Canada, eh? There’s a lot of good to say about Canada’s new food guide - drink  water, avoid processed foods, go easy on the sugar, eat together as a family or with friends, care about what you eat. But I might be a bit more inclined to adopt the food suggestions if I lived along our southern border, in a city rather than 60km from the nearest small town, or in the States or Mexico, parts of South America - anywhere warmer than the Canadian prairies. Where are we supposed to get tofu and nuts, that wide variety of fruits and vegetables recommended, the protein choices which seem to ignore much of what we can grow or produce in our climate? For many the guide lacks practicality. It depends on the availability of (often costly) foods that are produced elsewhere. Vast areas of Canada’s prairie provinces are devoted to agriculture, but most of our farms and ranches are not growing fruits, nuts or soy beans. 

The new Canada food guide supports a lifestyle (and a carbon footprint) we have adopted through a worldwide economy. The food we eat, and the food we produce, travels thousands of miles. Our buying habits and thirst for variety requires a complex system of food production and distribution. Changing this paradigm would put many farmers, storage facilities, trucking and shipping companies, numerous people out of business. Most people show no real desire to shift from this way of thinking.

I live near the centre of Alberta. I have flown over this province many times and am always in awe when looking down on the picturesque quilt of farmland that stretches from horizon to horizon. The prairies are absolutely immense. When others think of Alberta they think of oil, of forest, of hockey. But agriculture is huge here. Our capacity to feed the world, and ourselves, is phenomenal. 

What crops do we grow? Canola, barley, rye, millet, oats, corn for silage, forage crops for hay and pasture, field peas and lentils, corn, wheat and sugar beets. Root vegetables are also grown, some strawberries and raspberries, and honey production joins crop production hand in hand. But our short growing season and cooler summer temperatures always effect our options north of the 50th parallel. Animal production maximizes our crop choices.

Vast areas of the Canadian prairies are utilized in the production of animal proteins - beef, lamb, pork, rabbit, chicken, eggs, milk and milk products like butter, cream, yogurt and cheese. If you look at the protein quarter of the food guide pictured here you can easily see that these high protein foods (including fish) have been reduced almost to the point of non-existence. This, in my opinion, is the main weakness of the new guide (and an assault on our palettes). The development of humankind, our physical size and health, our life span, our highly developed brain, has been attributed to our intake of high protein foods - animal proteins being the main source. Yes, you can get protein from other sources, but other sources are not as efficient at delivering the nutrition our bodies require. 

The New Canada Food Guide looks a little like a fad diet, promoting what food experts and nutritionists say today but may not say tomorrow. A food guide for Canada that downplays the role of animal proteins in a healthy balanced diet does a huge disservice to our Canadian livestock, dairy and egg producers and is impractical for a great number of Canadians.

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A good read on the food guide can be found at:

New Canada Food Guide nixes portion sizes, promotes plant-based proteins | CTV News ...https://kitchener.ctvnews.ca › no-portion-...

Deep in Winter

You may have noticed I’ve been absent for awhile. Why? I’ve been gone, off to the States to provide some love and assistance to my sister who has medical problems to deal with. My sister, through good fortune, good planning or both, is well taken care of, has the insurance needed and the wherewithal to provide a comfortable retirement home in which to spend her remaining years. But should you happen to be less fortunate... well, I suspect you would be in serious trouble. No pay, no service. All those folks up here that are clamoring to privatize portions of our health care system should first go somewhere and experience what privatization is all about - profits, big profits. Enough said. I’m glad I am a Canadian. It’s odd though, you can’t talk to an American about one payer government sponsored health care. They are convinced they would suffer under such a system. Their minds are made up and there’s no changing them. Mind you, I’ve never had the opportunity to chat with an American who couldn’t afford insurance.

While gone the weather up here was lovely, hovering around the freezing point, even melting some of our snow pack. With the exception of one surprise 6” snow dump which was melted off the roads by afternoon, weather down south of the border was much the same but folks there thought it was terribly cold. I got home just in time for a “severe weather warning”, another heavy layer of snow, -30C temperatures and a husband with a deep cough wracking his body far too frequently. That same man is now out plowing snow. It’s warmed up to -28C! 
And here I am, sitting next to our warm wood stove, rising bread in a basket above my head, warm and toasty, feeling just a bit guilty. I do have one important job though - keeping the fire stoked, a frequent chore in this weather.  I don’t have the science behind it but I do have nearly 50 years of experience which has convinced me - wood burns faster when it’s cold out, even when all the dampers are closed. If it’s around freezing I can stoke it up before bed and still have coals in the morning. If it’s cold like it is now I need to stoke it a couple of times in the night. There’s something to be said for that old person problem of having to get up to pee, it provides a fire stoking opportunity and ensures a warm kitchen in the morning.

In weather like this I’m glad I’m one of those people who makes sure to have another one of everything in my pantry, cellar or freezer. We don’t have to go anywhere. I can read, watch Netflix, blog, make cinnamon buns (yum), stoke the fire. There’s a few outdoor chores that must be done. The hay feeders must be full, the birds and guardian dogs must be fed, kindling chopped, wood to the house, snow shoveled and plowed - most of which my husband does, but we don’t have to get a vehicle going and head down the road to go to work. So we feel privileged. 

The sun is coming out and despite the cold it’s positively beautiful outside!

Maybe I will do those exercises, I always put off. I highly recommend a DVD by Scott Cole called Discover TaiChi for Balance and Mobility (available on Amazon). Being a farm wife I thought I’d not need to do anything over and above my normal fairly busy routine of life, but I was wrong. Especially in Winter our recliner is far too alluring. It’s an eye opener to realize just how much a person’s body can seize-up when you let daily work be its only form of movement.

Swear Jar

How many of you grew up in a home with a swear jar, or are currently living in one? Drop a swear word, drop a coin into the jar. A good way to save for Christmas! We never had a swear jar in our home. I have no moral objections to swearing but my husband and I did try to instil in our son the recognition that swearing is not acceptable at certain times and in certain places. 

In some cases swearing conveys exactly how you feel, but most times it’s simply a lazy way to express your thoughts or a way of “fitting in” with your peers. Look, for example, at the many different usages and meanings of the “f” word. It can be used 10 different times with 10 different meanings in the same conversation. It is used as a verb, an adjective, an expletive. It takes its meaning from the sentence context, the situation in which it is used. There are probably people out there who would find it quite difficult to express themselves without using this word. But swearing is a choice which can easily become a habit. We can communicate without it.

The same goes for another language choice - the use of blanket terms to indicate ethnic origin, religious affiliation, social status, sexual orientation. When we use such words to describe a person (eg. Paki, Muslim, illegal, homo, Newfie, redneck, snowflake, squaw, chink, rag head, meth-head ...) we are pigeonholing them into a stereotype without knowing them or their story. Sometimes we use these words in humour, sometimes to describe actions that we consider stupid, and sometimes to indicate disapproval. In any case we are generally not saying something nice. 

There is more than one religion that requires men to wear turbans or women to wear head scarves. Not all Conservatives are rednecks and not all Liberals are snowflakes. Not all street people are meth addicts or alcoholics deserving of their fate. Being a Native woman, or man, does not automatically mean you have no understanding of time. Islam is the religion of the Muslim people, not a race, and not all Muslims are jihadists. Illegals are usually people who have overstayed their VISAs, not escaped criminals fleeing prosecution, etc., etc..... But, use a derogatory word for a group and we paint everyone in that group with the same colour. The qualities that make them unique individuals fade into the background. We magnify people’s differences, assume beliefs and behaviours, promote a culture of “us and them”. Yes, they may have similar characteristics due to upbringing or culture, but they are not all alike anymore than we are all alike.

Though not as frequent as swearing, we probably don’t realize how often these negative descriptive words jump into our conversations. Maybe we need someone to call it to our attention? Another type of swear jar perhaps? You may think I’m advocating the formation of a language police force. I’m not. There’s too many words already being removed from the “acceptable” list. Political correctness has gone overboard.  There is a price to be paid for using all the replacement words popping up to keep from hurting people’s sensibilities. Some would say good riddance. Some would say we’re losing our history or we’re getting too thin skinned. It’s up for debate. Language is a reflection of culture and culture, very slowly and with great reluctance, does change. Regardless of your opinion about what I’ve said here, our use of language does say something about us. It’s worth taking a look inside.

Cause and Effect

Cause and Effect

What a conundrum the people of planet earth find themselves in, at least the ones who are consciously aware. If you’re starving, or being bombed, or you have no water, if you’re poor and struggling for basic necessities, if you lack basic education, well then you may be too busy with survival to be aware, but you will be affected. You are the ones who struggle the most with the effects of stupidity and greed.

Our planet is changing. We seem to be bombarded with more extreme weather than “usual”. Some claim that media has made us more aware of weather phenomena than we once were; nothing is really all that different than before. Climate change is normal. This panic being roused in us is just media hype. Disasters make good stories. Others (including numerous scientists) claim we’re heading for the tipping point, the point of no return, and we must act now or face irreversible damage to our planet, even extinction.

Myself, I do not care if people believe in climate change or think it’s a sham. Belief doesn’t matter. What matters is that humans have been thoughtless, arrogant and greedy for centuries. We have believed for far too long that we are superior to all other species; that every mineral, critter, waterway, tree and piece of ground has been “created” especially for us to use (or abuse) as we see fit. And we have been and continue to be dumb enough to think we can manage nature, usually in a vacuum without recognition that everything works together.

Forget about global warming. 

Forget about climate change.

Let’s talk instead about pollution. 

I think that most everyone can agree that we have unthinkingly been using our air, land and water as a dump for the byproducts of “civilization” far too long. Our air is becoming less and less breathable. Our soil has been mined so long it’s fertility is all but gone. We use our rivers and lakes for waste dumping grounds and it’s getting harder and harder to find safe, palatable water sources to drink. We haul garbage out to the ocean on barges, creating islands of plastic and destroying the ocean’s ecosystem. We decimate forests leaving them vulnerable to insect infestations. We overfish, over hunt, attempt to manage wildlife. We leave wastelands behind when we mine for precious minerals and drill for oil. We take and take and forget to give back. We think we have a right to sit at the table. Our big brains have not made us good stewards of the earth. They have instead made us a plague upon it.

We know better now, don’t we? We did spend a very long time with our heads in the sand, reaping benefits and not seeing the down-side. But we can, must, open our eyes. And we can, must, attempt to remedy our past excesses, errors in judgement, foolhardy choices and begin to make new choices using better sense and better science. We need to add the environment into every equation when we put our shovels in the ground. We are smarter now....? We’ve seen the damage greed can cause. 

Think of the world you are passing on to your children, and theirs, and theirs.... This year do more. Encourage, support, praise individual efforts. Pass it forward, give back. Lobby for legislation to bring the big players in line. Encourage and support government decisions that promote good environmental stewardship, and don’t vote them out when they have the courage to do so.

A new year is just around the corner. It’s time. 

Happy New Year from North of 54!

The Pantry

With 7 dogs, 4 of which are over 100lbs, we use lots of dog food! Having been in the dog business since the 70’s, both Border Collies and guardians, we sought out the best deal for dog food - palatability, nutrition and moderate price being our criteria. We had a bulk deal from the local feed mill but the dogs stopped eating it after a while. We partnered up with another dog owner and trucked a large quantity from southern Alberta but storage began to cause problems. We gave most of the moderately priced name brands a doggy taste test. In the end Kirkland’s (Costco) lamb and rice won out. So at least once a month and often twice we head out on a dog food run to the city. Two hours there, two hours back, time to shop, and storing away purchases makes it a long and tiring day. 

Costco knows how to attract buyers, I’ve made many spur of the moment purchases there. All the stuff you simply must have is right at the door as you come in, next comes the electronics, followed by candy. They have quality meats, gifts, clothing, books, cheaper gas... Needless to say we load up on lots more than dog food on our city trips.

When we get home the work begins. Those large quantities must be broken up into smaller ones for freezing, room must be found in the fridge, and cupboard space for the rest. I believe in having a spare of nearly everything and a whole flat of things like mushroom soup, so when I start using the spare its replacement goes onto my grocery list. Between my stocked root cellar and my spare keeping habit we could probably eat well for a month or two and never leave home. But product back-up requires storage space and I was running out!

“I need another pantry,” I announced to my unresponsive-connected-by-bluetooth- deep-into-the-news on his iPad husband.

“Hmmm,” he mumbled.

That sounded like ‘yes, good idea’ to me. 

We have a small room we’ve called Grandma’s room ever since it was my mom-in-law’s bedroom when she stayed with us 6 months at a stretch many years ago. Grandma’s room has gradually become a storage/utility room, a catch-all for everything we couldn’t find a spot for. I moved a bookshelf upstairs, wiggled a few things around and made a place for a pantry about two feet wide. I was ready! I delved into some of the big box store’s websites on the Internet to see what I could find - size and price being my search parameters. I placed my order on a pantry cupboard 24”x11”x 60” from Home Depot - reasonable price, free delivery. Two days later I received an email saying my pantry had been shipped. For my shipping address I used the street address of a small business in the village as per usual, because there are no trucking outfits that bring goods out to the farms.

I phoned to check on my parcel several days later - not there yet. A week later, still not there. “This makes no sense!” I said, “UPS sent an email and it should be here by now.”

“Oh, it was shipped by UPS! Don’t you know they don’t deliver out here anymore, haven’t for quite a while.” Time to get serious about tracking down my pantry. I found a phone number for UPS, patiently listened to a recorded voice giving me many options to solve my problem, and finally found a human to tell me my pantry was in their warehouse and that they were looking for a trucking outfit to bring it out. Right. Suspecting they would not find anyone I suggested we re-route the package to the northwest side Home Depot. They and Home Depot agreed. But the pantry never got there.

On contacting UPS again I discovered it was still in their warehouse. “Okay, we’ll come and get it,” I said. “Where are you?” Their location on 28th Ave.N.W. turned out to be on the SE side of the city...?? (Am I the only one who finds that odd?) Off we went, clocking the distance at 192km from home! Free delivery, yep. Oh well, the south side Costco was a hop and skip away from UPS, so we picked up dog food too.

After a couple of days sitting in the shop in its box, my husband put my new pantry together and I filled it up with my spares and some less frequently used kitchen appliances. And I’ve learned my lesson about buying large items on the Internet when you live in the disconnected boonies - ship to the store for pick-up or shop the old fashioned way.