DIMINISHED

I've been feeling particularly sad for some time now. And it's not just my depression, as far as I can tell.

There is something else.

What I'm feeling is diminished. That there is less of me.

One of the realities of moving from a large house to a medium-sized apartment is the need to get rid of things. Particularly things for which we do not expect we will have any space.

It's not so much that I'm tied to my possessions. I'm not.

What I'm missing is file upon file of my work which has to be trashed. Things into which I have put my heart and thought. Which, I think, is appropriate for a writer, and a minister. News articles. Newspaper columns. Special reports on radio. Sermons and other meditations. Bible study material. Unused research notes, waiting for a chance to see the light of day.

All gone.

I'm not just throwing out papers. I'm throwing out part of myself.

And, of course, Sadie's gone now, too, after I spent a lot of time training her, and befriending her.

That's why I feel diminished. So much of me is gone.

MAJOR ANOUNCEMENT!!

On Bear's behalf, the Editorial Committee for this blog is relaying news of a major development.

It concerns Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, Duchess of St. Swythun's Punt-on-Thames, Duchess of Cardigan and Wooly Boots, and (by Royal Appointment) Guardian of Offa's Dyke. Miss Sadie, Bear's long-time and faithful companion, is parting company with Bear. This decision has been initiated by Bear.

Her Ladyship has released the following statement (which is also to be found on her blog).

By time you read this, I will have moved to a new home and new family!

I have a big brother, who is a Malamute, and who is twice my size. His name is Dugan. I've also got a sister — a black Standard Poodle just like me, but about six years older than me. Her name is Willow. My new master is a veterinarian, who really loves Poodles. So this is going to be a very good thing. At least I think. I hope.

"But where is Bear?" you ask. Bear and J are "moving house." They're leaving their house a block from the river, and moving into an apartment in a building on the opposite river bank. It's a mile or so downriver from where they have been living, and right across from downtown. But one of the rules is that people cannot bring animals with them. I cannot come.

I realize all of this is peculiar, so I'll explain.

At least some of you, maybe all of you, realize that Bear has been getting sicker since last fall. Last weekend, he spent some time in hospital.

For many years Bear has suffered quite a bit of pain, from several "misadventures." Since last fall, the chronic physical pain has has been getting worse, which simply added to the emotional pain of his chronic depression. 

So when he was briefly out of hibernation a while ago, he explained things to me, and we had a good cry together. Just taking me for a walk, on my lead, hurts his neck, and shoulder, and back so badly that he has to take strong medications and lie down when we're finished. And when we play fetch in the back yard, he hurts so badly that he has to lean on his grandchildren's play house in order to stand up.

I had no idea that looking after me, and doing things with me, was hurting Bear so badly!

And that's when he said he had found a new home for me. And that's why he and J are moving. They'll be in an apartment, so he doesn't have to look after the yard, and trees, and gardens, and so he doesn't have to keep up with the house repairs.

I really don't want to leave Bear. I don't want him to leave me.  And I'm sure he doesn't want us to part. But I guess neither of us can help that. As Bear would say, "You win some, and you lose some, and some get rained out."

Good-bye, friends.

Good-bye, Bear! Gonna miss you!

Two members of the Editorial Committee, Frank Serif and Mary Italic, accompanied Miss Sadie to her new home. They are happy to report that Miss Sadie received a warm and enthusiastic greeting from all but Dugan, who growled at her when they first met, and paid little attention to her after that. We trust Miss Sadie will be a long and happy relationship with her new family (despite Dugan's initial response). Indeed, Sadie was so busy playing with Willow she did not see the Editorial Committee members leave.

WHEN IN DOUBT, . . . (3)

The day dawned grey and cold,
sunless,
hoar frosted trees barely visible
in the ice fog;
- 10°C, with a wind chill
almost double that.
"Socked in" as 
the old tyme flyers would say.

By lunch time
Miss Sadie was vocally bored,
and insisted on playing
in the fresh winter air.

And so we did.

Her frozen toy
stung my hands.
Even Her Ladyship
found it cold in her mouth.
Undeterred,
she ran to wherever it landed,
and galloped it back —
a flowing keyboard
of black on white
in the frigid yard.

While overhead,
the gutter ravens,
having moved south for the winter,
cried to one another.

Now, Sadie calmly sleeps
in her favourite chair,
by the warm stove,
awaiting another run,
latter on, perhaps,
not knowing the forecast
is for freezing rain,
which will make everything
treacherous,
for travel,
or even play
in our sanctuary.

WHEN IN DOUBT, . . . (2)

Winter. 
Well below freezing.
White upon white,
breath borne on the gentle breeze
above the snow.

Black Sadie running on her well-worn trails;
the stark counterpoint
to the surrounding snow mantle,
forever ready to chase her toy
one more time —
wheeling about,
checking like a hunter,
then leaping like a deer
with the joy of her "find."

All within the sanctuary
of our wind-shielded
back yard,
on a very low day.

HIBERNATION (or, Hi-Bear-nation)

Yes, it is getting to be that time of year. Colder temperatures; the arrival of snow. I'm very sleepy, and I'm getting foggy-brained.

Hibernation time. 

I've got a really nice den picked out. The foxes used it over the summer for their family home, but they have moved on. This is good. I've tried it out, again, and it's good!

Unlike some other animals, Bears are not "true" hibernators. We don't really pack it in for the whole winter. Like other animals who go into hibernation, our whole bodies (metabolism) slow down, and we live on stored energy. But, on nice days, we come out of our dens, to stretch and enjoy the sunshine, and maybe grab a snack.

So if you don't see me around as much, don't worry; I've just gone into hibernation. And if I show up at your place, don't panic; it's just too nice a day to be sleeping.

And, lest you be concerned, I've made contingency plans for Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie. She will receive excellent care; no question. She may even come to my den to sleep for the night.

See you in the spring, or perhaps earlier. I hope you have a good winter!

Footnote:
Not only is everything covered with ice and snow, this is the first day on which the high temperature for the day will be zero°C, or less.

Update: DID SOMEBODY SAY …

SNOW?

I do believe I heard that; and saw it too
(earlier this morning).
As did Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie.

'Tis that time of year all right.
Temperature -1°C (30F).
Wind chill -8°C (18F)

Ho. Ho. Ho?

Footnote

The snow kept up all day.

By supper time it was getting seriously dark and dismal.

Not only that,
front steps were covered,
same with the front sidewalks,
even the back yard.
And the streets were getting icy.

Of course, that didn't stop me
from going to our annual Ward meeting
to hear what the Mayor and Ward Councilor had to say.
Great turnout (as always) even on a bad night.
Included some semi-useful information.

At bedtime,
-1°C (30F)
with the wind chill
-8C (about 18F).

Tomorrow?
We'll see what its like when it gets here.

PHOTO OF THE DAY/Photo du Jour

Ou est la ville?/Where's the city?

Sadie and I went for our morning walk, as per usual today.

Normally when we get to the park where the sanatorium used to be, we can see right across the river to the buildings on the east side of the city.

Not today.

We've been having quite a bit or rain over the last couple of days. Sadie and I walked in the break between the showers. It's quite humid, and the temperature is only 4°C (39F). You can see the result.

IN AUTUMN, A MAN'S MIND TURNS TO …

cleaning up the yard and getting ready for winter. Which I was doing this afternoon at our micro-holding. (For those of you who are not familiar, I think our property is really too small to fit the classic definition of a "small holding"; hence, it's a "micro-holding.")

When I work outside, Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, comes with me. First we play a bit. Then we light a fire, into which I can toss odds and ends of stuff that need to be removed and can be burned.

Then I get down to work. And Miss Sadie waits for me to be done with the work silliness, and come to play — which is the important thing to do outside.

When I need to take a break, we play.

There was a lot of brush to clean up at the back. I didn't take a picture of it, but you can see where the leaves are. That's where the brush was.

And there was some other stuff to clean up, too. Like garbage that blows in from the back lane. (The automated garbage pickup isn't always that thorough.)

It has to be bagged and returned to the garbage, along with bits of glass and metal which uncannily pop up to the surface of the earth from time to time. And I need to do something with Miss Sadie's "leavings" (otherwise called, by some, "doggy-doo").

Then, the wood pile. It was a mess. Now we've got it organized, and partly tarped. The one challenge is that there are mice living under there, somewhere. I only know about them because Miss Sadie keeps trying to find the mice, even climbing up on top of the wood pile.

Last job, cover the rose bush with fallen tree leaves, to protect it over the winter. (This was the first year since we transplanted it to our yard that it actually bloomed.)

We had beautiful magenta roses. I hope we get them again next year.

All in an afternoon's work. Or play (if you see it from Miss Sadie's perspective).

SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT …

 The sun is high. The sky is bright blue, with no clouds. 

The air is warm (about 10°C, or 50°F). 

The Elms and Poplars have lost most of their leaves. 

 Even the Larches are shedding their needles (leaves) on cue. 

(Larches are the only coniferous trees to loose all their leaves

at one time.)

While I can usually walk only about a kilometre at a time,

Sadie and I have done three today,

two this morning, another one this evening.

Too nice a day to be inside.

I hope you had a wonderful day, too!

FROSTY FRIDAY IN . . . SASKATOON (But Harvest Done)

The first frost of this season arrived, overnight, as predicted. Down to -1°C (that's 30F), but with the wind chill, -7C (or 19F).  While it was cool outside, the basement was toasty warm. The gas stove, set on thermostat, turned itself on (and off) at the right times. Thankfully.

I did manage to get the last of the tomatoes and carrots harvested yesterday, ahead of the frost.

This year's crop of carrots is reasonable.

The tomatoes, however, are mostly small and green,

the result of a wet, cold summer. Some of these are actually small varieties; most are not, sadly.

The good news is the carrots are good eating, and I have a Canadian recipe for Green Tomato Chutney. The chutney is made primarily with green tomatoes, a couple of apples, and some odds and ends, including raisins and a tiny bit of ginger.

Now, please, could someone tell me with what one would eat with such a chutney? Thank you.

P.S.: Now, another frost warning for tonight.

Footnote:
This is the time of year when Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, goes a bit "nuts," chasing after leaves as they skitter along the ground. If I suddenly disappear from the blogging world, it's likely because of a dislocated shoulder or elbow, or perhaps stress fractures of the wrist or hand, achieved while accompanying Her Ladyship. Please Bear with me in my absence, should that occur.

ONLY GOD CAN MAKE A TREE

No, Bear isn't waxing poetic like Joyce Kilmer. Bear is just worried about the loss of trees, and what can be done about that loss.

I've posted something about that on my Bears Noting blog.

If you love trees, take a look.

Thanks.

TAKING RISKS — HOPEFULLY SURVIVING

Sonia (over at Gutsy Writer) got me thinking about this topic a few days ago. I had some questions for myself. 
  
What does it mean do take risks?
Why should I take risks?
What kinds of risks could/should/would I take?

I've taken a lot of risks in my life. Changing jobs; changing careers; moving across a country for work; walking into burning buildings with nothing more than an inch and a half (diameter) fire hose; getting married; having children; writing, broadcasting and blogging; upholding unpopular beliefs and ideas. In each case, these were things I did because I thought they were the right thing to do. A couple of those proved to be really bad (two were health destroying); the vast majority were good, and I'd do them again.

Even though I'm hitting retirement, I don't expect my attitude will change much. I'm probably a bit old for walking into burning buildings and having more children. I'll probably spend more time upholding unpopular ideas, in a time when democracy, human rights, co-operation, citizen action, and faith are all under attack, particularly in North America.
   
I'd love to have you come along. And if you're coming along, I really hope you will chat with me about what you and I are thinking.

Do we have a deal?

MISS SADIE'S MISS-ADVENTURE

Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, spend Monday night and much of Tuesday in the Intensive Care Unit of our University's Veterinary Teaching Hospital.

Monday after supper, she began to show a whole bunch of problems, involving several of her systems. A quick call to the hospital and a chat with a clinician, and I took her in. The initial suspicion was an early onset of Addison's disease, a chronic condition of the adrenal glands. She was also dehydrated.

So after some IV fluids, lots of tests, and rest, Sadie was discharged. It is not Addison's, fortunately. The doctors still don't know what was wrong with her, but suspect she may have eaten something toxic in our back yard.  (Which is, in some ways, peculiar, as we use no chemicals in our gardening.) I guess this means that I won't be letting Miss Sadie out as freely as in the past. Which is sad for her. 

In the meantime, she is getting back to her "normal" self. A bit more rest, and no recurring symptoms, and she'll be just fine. My wallet, on the other hand. . . .

WHAT'S A BEAR TO DO? (2)

OK, let's review.

The garden was a mess!

So Bear "took the bull by the tail" and got working on it. 

Soon, it wasn't looking too bad.

But there's something here that' not quite right. There's a certain «je ne sais quoi» feeling about it. I seems somehow incomplete. 

Think. Think. Think. (Think like a puzzled Winnie the Pooh.)

Think. Think. Think.

Well, if it were a picture, I could show it off a bit better by putting it in a nice frame.

Wait — that's it. Put something around it. Like, . . . like, . . . like — a border. Yes! That's it. A border!

Say, this is looking better.

And we're done! 

Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie has been supervising this all the way along. 

Now, she's allowing her picture to be taken alongside the completed project.

Allowing her picture to be taken in this manner is Her Ladyship's supervisory "seal of approval" that the work has been "completed to the highest standards." 

(When her Ladyship isn't looking, Bear rolls his eyes.)

So, the task is complete!

Now, all that's left is

the

back

 yard.

Oh, my!  

HELP!!!!!!!!!

PLAYING IN THE RAIN

The long-awaited rain storm has arrived. It's just pouring buckets outside. Environment Canada's Weather Office has predicted some localized flooding.

And guess who wanted to go outside and play "fetch" in the back yard?

(Hint: It wasn't the Bear, who had on his storm suit.)

The only other possible character for this was Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie — the Standard Poodle. Her genetics tell her she's a retriever; she also has webbed paws, for working in water.

You can figure it out from there.

P.S.: We went out and played for 15 minutes. It wasn't Miss Sadie who wanted to come in at that point.

SILLINESS

We have had a lot of rain where I live. Either rain or clouds almost every day. It's too wet in many places to continue seeding, so the large crop predicted earlier may not materialize. Neither Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, nor I are fond of long walks in the rain right now. And it's all making me a bit silly — waterlogged brain, I think.

So, I have an idea. We should change the name of our province from "Saskatchewan" to "Newyyd Cymru" (New Wales). Wales always gets lots of rain. Right? A more fitting name for us right now, since we've apparently had the wettest spring on record. Sigh! Of course, for New Wales, we would need a LOT of sheep; I'm not certain how that would go over, here in cattle country. 

Oh, yes; Miss Sadie is a year old, today. We'll head out for a celebratory walk in a few minutes.  

ALL IN THE MERRY MONTH OF APRIL

We awoke this morning to a glorious spring day.

 

Thought I suppose "glorious," like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. Admittedly, Sadie was a little perplexed, but  I didn't try to explain; she's much less concerned about weather than I am.

  

Anyhow, had breakfast, got dressed, cleaned the show off the wagon, and went to worship at St. George's Anglican Church — all of six blocks from our house. (I'd have walked if there was less snow.) My friend, Fr. S, recently became Associate Priest there, which I just learned a few days ago. So I went to early Communion. And I'm glad I did.

  

Well, then, what to do with the rest of the day, when it's not the right weather for working outside. 

  

I did something I haven't done for 20+ years. I got out my art supplies and put some paint on paper.

This isn't art. Art is what artists (or "artistes") do. Putting colour on paper is what Bears do. J was already painting when I got home from worship, so I decided to join her, and we had a grand morning. 

  

After lunch I had a snooze, and when I woke up, I put the roast, potatoes, and yams on the roasting pan (then in the oven) for supper. I went upstairs and found K, our granddaughter, had joined us for the afternoon. So she played at a whole range of things, and I played a bit more with paint. Then I got my banjo out (something else I haven't done for a while) and we sat in a circle and sang. (We got out some rhythm instruments so we could all sing and play.)

(Just to make sure you understand, I am not the re-incarnation of George Formby or "Banjo" Patterson.)

  

After supper, K went home. J and I focused on some DIY projects — and by then it was bed time. So I quick finished this off — and now it's yours. 

  

(BTW, by mid afternoon the snow melted, then it started snowing again. That's when I decided to take Sadie for a walk — bad planning. After that, the snow turned to rain, about the time Sadie and I went for our evening walk. Yes, more bad planing.)

   

It was a very different day, but a very enjoyable one. I think I'm going to try this more often. I think J is, too.

AH, SPRING . . . THE OTHER SIDE

"March winds and April showers bring forth May flowers."

That's the way it should be.

But this is RIDICULOUS!
     

This is a "Winter Storm" in April. ("Winter Storm" according to the meteorologists at Environment Canada.) 

Moderate to heavy snow. High winds (up to 107 km/hr). 

Snow blowing sideways instead of falling downwards.

"Whiteout" (blizzard) conditions on a number of roads

(including Highway 16, the equivalent of a British Motorway,

that connects Regina and Saskatoon,

Saskatchewan's two main cities).

Cars and trucks (lorries) in the ditches.

Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, doesn't even want to go out in this. 

Nor does the Bear.

Sigh! Grr @$#%$^rr!

Today was set aside as a day to start getting

our vegetable and flower gardens ready

(though way too early to plant vegetables —

as you can see).

Next week, I guess. 

I'm not going to shovel the snow; we might get more over night.

Or it might all melt tomorrow.  

Time to hang out with J and Sadie, have a hot cuppa tea,

and read a book. 

MORE SLUSH AND STUFF

This is a bit different from the last "Slush and Stuff."

In this case the "Stuff" includes some dislocated joints in my back. This, courtesy of Her Ladyship, Miss Sadie, who is now strong enough to move me around at will — as in her will. This is a real pain, both physically and in matters of canine management. Bear will survive both, thanks to good medication and extra rest, and some good planning (which has yet to be done).

The "Slush" is inside the Bear's head, thanks to another "black dog" (as Sir Winston Churchill put it) who has come to reside. This seems to happen every year when winter turns to spring. Bear will survive; the other dog will leave. Bear just doesn't know when.

Please Bear with me; Bear has other stories to tell, when he is able.
v

SLUSH AND STUFF

First, the hangover got much, much worse.

Then, the walk beside our house turned into an ice track. Ideal for Bobsleigh, Luge, or Skeleton — except the Olympics are over.

Then the ice started to melt — thanks to warmer weather and a well-place application of salt and grit.

I've been able to do some chopping as well (after a few days of dodgy health). Now, it's almost safe to walk beside the house. Miss Sadie and I have done it a couple of times, without incident.

In a few days, I expect the path will be clear.

And by then, our very muddy back yard will appear, and I'll start thinking of building Miss Sadie her own private race track, so she isn't bringing half the back yard into the house, four paws-full at a time.

Ah, well.

Hope your spring it turning out nicely at this point.

What's happening in your corner of the world as spring emerges?