We're Having a Heat Wave...

...a tropical heat wave.

It's 24C out there right now!  Just got back from the park, to which I wore shorts and flip flops.  Is this real life?

I'm still waiting, though.  It's out there.  Winter's last hurrah.  I can feel it.  Out running in the evening, when I pass into the shadows, or run by a snowy hollow, the cold is there, laying in wait.  It hits me, fresh and shocking, a reminder of early spring snowstorms to come.

My husband thinks we have at least a late March, and maybe an April storm in store for us.  I'm not sure what will happen, but I do  know that as soon as I put out my spring porch decorations, snow is sure to come.

I'll let you know my plans.

Going Around the Mountain

Spring has a way of showing us things that we hadn't noticed before.  After the snow melts, but before anything starts growing, we are presented with a landscape that is laid bare.  The fields and forest floors are flat and sodden with last fall's grasses and leaves.  The lay of the land is clear.  The canopies are open, illuminating previously dark corners of the woods.

Yesterday we went out for a walk in the field and forest edge across the road.  Part of our trek included a section that my husband's family called "going around the mountain".

I enjoy doing these hikes with Rick.  I like hearing tales from his childhood and feeling connected to a piece of land in a way that I never have before.  It's on these walks that my faith in our choice to move here is reaffirmed.  This connection to land, water, rock, and deep rooted family history is what I want.  

All Signs Point to Spring

I know that I have been spared this winter.  Wintry weather came on late, serious snow and cold snaps were few and far between.  There were strings of absolutely gorgeous days.  I fell in love with winter. 

And now, it seems, we are blessed with an early spring.  I know that there is a very real possibility of snow again, and everything will freeze up and grey days will drag.

But for now, early spring has arrived on Maple Lake.

As we waved goodbye to daddy this morning I noticed the chipmunks out from hibernation and scurrying around the front garden.  Several robins were up in the trees singing their "up, down, up down, up a little more, down again" song.  Last night I was out for a run and heard red-wing blackbirds.

I haven't managed to get out for a walk in the woods yet - I'm rather tethered to the ol' homestead having a one year old attached to me most of the time.  I have managed to poke around the house, though.  There isn't any new growth out there that I have observed, but mosses and other evergreen plants look particularly vibrant when finally free of their snowy cocoon.

My husband announced the other night that he "smelt it".  I said, "that disgusting rotten mud smell outside?" and he said, "no, spring.  It smells like eight years old".  How poetic.  And he's right.  What other season evokes childhood memories so sharply?  Spring is a season full of smells.  Some amazing, some...not so amazing.  Smell is the sense that can bring us back to times and places we thought we had forgotten.

I know we may not be entirely out of the woods yet, winter wise, and I'm bracing myself for winter's last hurrah.  I welcome it, though, and am loving the onset of early spring living in a place where I feel I can intimately observe the changing of the seasons.

What to do When Your Kid Poops the Tub

Alternate Title -

I Don't Remember Buying Any Lincoln Logs...waaait a minute...

Step 1 - Do not panic. 
This will be your natural inclination because you just saw a giant log of poo float past your kid and last you checked, you still resided in the first world.  Plus, totally losing it will probably instill a lifelong fear of pooping in your child.  That's just bad news for everyone.  You have to pay for that therapy, you know.

Step 2 - Remove child from the water which has now become a bio-hazard.
Wrap the poor little dude in a towel and put him on a bath mat.  This may result in whining and/or crying as he is missing out on precious "ba" time.

Step 3 - Drain the tub.
Do I need to explain why retrieving the poop whilst it is floating is a bad idea?

Step 4 - Call for back up.
Be sure to shout "emergency" and "Lysol" while doing this.  If your husband is anything like mine (love you!) then he needs to hear these things in order to know it's serious and to get a move on.

Step 5 - Poop removal.
That tub is drained by now - let's get that poop out!  But wait.  Your husband wants to take a picture.  Of course he does.  Seriously? Moving on...Bunch 5 - 10 tissues up in your hand and grab the log.  Flush that sucker.

Step 6 - Sanitize.
Use the Lysol to wash everything.  And I mean EVERYTHING.  The entire inside of the tub has been poopified, plus alll the bath toys.  Rinse the tub and toys with very hot water.  Run all the towels and mats that have touched the poopy child down to the laundry room and start the wash.  Give your kid a quick once over with some wipes.

Step 7 - Resume regularly scheduled bath time.
Refill the tub, put the kid in, and scrub him within an inch of his life.

Step 8 - Drink wine.
Again, do I need to explain why this is the next logical step?


This may or may not be based on a true story.

A Letter to Winter

Hey Winter -

I've really enjoyed you this year.  More than ever before.  You continue to be beautiful, and for that I am grateful.

I am growing weary however, of ice, of my husband having to plow, and of more grey days than not.  I also think that I may have a slight case of the February blahs.  Totally not your fault, you're still doing a fantastic job.  Snowstorms, frigid temps, sparking snow, impressive icicles.  I'm just putting it out there.

I long for fresh breezes, melting snow, running water washing away winter grit.

While you're still here I'll admire you, enjoy you and feel nostalgic about you (my son was born in a March snowstorm), but consider yourself served. 

 This is your eviction notice.

We are officially waiting for Spring.

From the Weather Book

February 8
-full, bright moon

February 10
- snow

February 11
- cold -21C
- bright morning
- a really gorgeous day

February 15
- snow
- mild

February 16
- rain/snow
- slick roads
- driveway full of ice

February 17
- sun, mild
- walk on the lake

February 18
- colder -10C
- sunny. clear

February 21
- snowy evening

February 22
- mild
- snowy, snowy morning - thick and heavy
- lots of crazy banging outside...hoping snow coming off the roof??  ::paranoia::

Happy Family Day from Maple Lake

It's cold, but we have beautiful blue sunny skies.  A perfect day for a walk on the lake.  I hope you are enjoying your Family Day!

Mid Winter Porch Decor

Unfortunatly I don't have any shots of my Christmas porch decorations, but I will share what I did today to freshen up the front.  I needed to get rid of the Christmas wreath - it was getting too dry and I was sick of it.  I made a new wreath - but then the planters looked off with their red berries, pine cones and variety of greens. 

I decided to pare it down and use strictly pine boughs.  Getting the birch to stand up in solid frozen soil was NOT FUN, but I accomplished my goal and I am pleased with the results.

A palate of green, white and yellow is modern and fresh.  Can't wait for spring!

My husband has told be recently that I am too negative.  So, I will say NOTHING of the fact that I CAN'T wait to get new siding, and a new screen door, and something to cover the hydro meter and, and...

Composting

This is what my compost pile looks like -

Pretty, isn't it?

I'm not entirely sure what went on here compost wise before we arrived, but this is the pile I'm using for now.  Last spring I wasn't really in any frame of mind to get anything else up and running.

My husband was hesitant to have a compost pile here because he was (wrongly) afraid of attracting wildlife.  A well maintained compost pile might attract some animal interest (especially if it's open), but it won't smell. 

Where we moved from we had a Green Bin program.  I only composted garden waste in our backyard.  All food waste went into the green bin - it was awesome.  Here, though, only veggie and fruit scraps go in the compost.  At least it's something.

I have big plans for the compost come spring.

The whole compost/garden shed area needs a major clean up.  I want to rip down the existing compost structure (because it's terrible) and build a new open three bin system.  I prefer open pile composting because I find it easier to maintain.  I don't have to worry about the amount of waste I am adding, and there are no ridiculous little doors or lids to fight with.

A Winter Evening Walk

Karma

I absolutely believe in karma - what goes around comes around...or however you prefer to phrase it.

Here are the two most recent incidents -

1.  The grocery store I go to has those carts that are all chained together - you know, the kind you have to insert a quarter to free it?  And then you get your quarter back when you are done?  Which makes you maddeningly have to carry a quarter with you every time?  Yeah, those.

I was on my way out of the store and packing my groceries into my trunk when a truck pulled in beside me.  The man popped out and said "I'll take that cart for you", I said sure and pushed it over.  He tried to give me a quarter, but really, it's just a quarter, and so I just gave it to him.  I was surprised at how surprised he  seemed over this.

Fast forward to two weeks later, and my husband dropped me off at the store and drove off with the baby to run other errands.  As  I reached into my pocket I realized...no quarter.  Stupid, stupid grocery store and your stupid, stupid carts!  I walked into the store and low and behold - a cart, free of its shackles sat there, just waiting for me.  That never happens!

Karma.


2.  My husband was sick.  Made my baby sick.  Then my husband got sick again.  Saturday night I made a crack about how I am apparently the only one in the household with a functioning immune system.  I felt superior.  Smug.  Strong.  

And now I feel....like shit.

That's right.  Karma.

How to Feel Like a Pioneer Girl in Five Easy Steps

1.  Move to an old house on a lakefront in the middle of a forest.  It helps if you are seven weeks post-partum and aren't planning on working outside the home.


2.  Do zero in the way of upgrades to said house.  Watch the icicles form along the eaves and feel the cool breeze from your crappy windows.

3.  Start relying on a wood stove to partially heat your home.  You also have an oil furnace, but the wood stove helps take the edge off.  Plus oil is brutally expensive, and since most of the heat is escaping from the roof anyway (see #2), you'll need the wood stove.

4.  Have your husband go away for business for an extended period of time to a fun, big city and get to do fun, exciting things.  Like see other humans.


5.  Start hauling wood inside because it's freaking cold.  Viola! You're a pioneer! 

Stay tuned for other posts in this series - "Things I Shouldn't Have to Do"

Finding Myself on Maple Lake

In April of 2011, just 7 weeks after the birth of our son, we moved to Maple Lake.  Purchasing this house and property had been a dream of my husband's for many years.  His grandparents had decided it was time to move into a smaller home, but also wanted to keep the property in the family.  So, we bought the farm, so to speak.

I completely understood his drive to be here.  My own grandparents moved to Parry Sound from Ahmic Lake, Magnetewan.  If I had been in a position to buy that property, I would have.  My best childhood memories are from Ahmic Lake.  I knew where my husband was coming from and how important it was to him.

How could I say no?

We decided to move after the baby was born, and put the house on the market.  It sold within three days.  Everything was falling in to place and it all seemed perfect.

I had my reservations about the move and about the house, and I spoke up about them.  We talked them through, or so I thought.  To be honest I think I ignored my gut instinct throughout the whole process.  My gut instinct usually tells me everything I need to know. 

Yes, I wanted it.  But more, I wanted to be able to do this for my husband.  To do it for my 25 year old self who hadn't been able to do the same.

We moved Easter weekend.  I am going to leave out all the nitty-gritty details, but in short, I wasn't happy.  I sucked it all up and powered through the day with the help of my grandparents who arrived like a cavalry, bringing cookies and shoulders to cry on.  In their usual fashion, they got straight down to business, cleaning cupboards and unpacking boxes. I am forever grateful to them for shining some light on my situation that day.

The next morning my reality slammed into me like a brick wall.  Hard.  I felt alone, overwhelmed and unbearably sad.  MISTAKE screamed and echoed in my head.

I felt that we'd left our first home without much thought because we were so enthusiastic about the move.

I felt so incredibly stupid.  I can't express that strongly enough.  I'd visited this house for ten years.  I knew the issues.  I understood where I was moving to.  I had been on board every step of the way.  I'd been open about my hesitations.  Worked through them.

But still.  I was not happy.  Many, many tears were shed.  I felt like I was crushing my husband.  It killed me to see the disappointment and pain in his eyes.  More than anything, he wanted to make me happy, too.

I spent the spring, summer and fall guarding against and pushing away loneliness and sadness that crept up and struck with no warning.  I would find myself standing in my driveway overcome with tears, feeling pulled in a myriad of directions.  I was homesick and missed so much about a place that I really did want to leave.  It was perplexing.

Slowly, slowly my days started to improve.  Bad days became fewer and less intense.  I talked.  I shared all of my negative thoughts and feelings with my husband who was ever patient.  Make jokes about my situation.  Started to like some things about being here.  The quiet, the space, the beauty just outside my door.  The scales were tipping.

Now winter has arrived and I can honestly say that there are things about living here that I love.  The tress covered in new snow.  Perfect sunrises over the lake.  Privacy.  Wide open spaces. 

I spent three seasons feeling un-anchored, having a house but no home.  I  know now that home is wherever my love is.  My son.  My husband.  And really, that's what brought me around.  I still have days where I stop and think "How on earth did this happen?", but in my gut I know my home is here.  Maple Lake.