Visiting Karen

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I would be, but she’s in Vegas and I’m doing her the favour of looking after her dogs and staying at her house. It’s near Margo, our home town, and it’s another opportunity to go visit some relatives and friends. Not that I am sure to do everything I imagine myself doing, but my intentions are ambitious: finish my quilt, read in my herbology manual, sort through a 1983 journal, read more of The Arctic Grail, by Pierre Berton.

What a good writer he is; so much information, so well put. Another of his books about the North is Klondike, the Last Great Gold Rush. Weighty but wonderful. In it he talks about the lucky passengers who made it to the Yukon via sternwheeler rather than overland. I have a large photo of a vessel arriving at port after a perilous journey. The passengers are clearly overjoyed to have gotten through. The photo belonged to my great-great aunt, Aunt Alma, who was a nurse up in Mayo. If you click on that link, be sure to enlarge the pictures and have a look. They’re pretty cool. Alas the sternwheeler pic isn’t there but I’ll upload it some other time.

There’s no internet at Karen’s without her phone, and I haven’t purchased any data for mine, so there won’t be that distraction and I can get a lot done. Right? We’ll see. I’m on call to help on the painting job in town so won’t always be sitting happily on my duff at the frozen lake. Nevertheless it’s good to earn some money and it’s good to be “the boss’s wife” too and get to sneak in a kiss every now and then during the work day.

Last night, after putting in a full five hours on the job (whoo whoo, five hours!), I was so beat that I went to bed about eight o’clock and slept through till eight this morning. You’d think it was hard work or something, but it isn’t, really; I’ve done more hefting and lifting other times.

Today they didn’t need me so I’ve loaded up the truck and I’m off to Beverleeeee

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2 thoughts on “Visiting Karen

  1. Is there an ocean attached to that beach?

    BTW, I my cheesy cauliflower turned out pretty good. I steamed it lightly and then heated it with a little cream cheese, mozzarella and parmesan.

  2. Not quite. There’s a smallish, frozen lake with about five ice-fishing shacks near the far shore. I’ve just stopped off at home (Friday noon) to change into work-outerwear and am on my way to help on the paint/reno in town, so checking email and getting on my way. But at Karen’s, I have spent the first two hours of each morning in silence sitting with coffee and two lapdogs, looking out over the ice. Wildlife so far: a lone coyote crossing the empty expanse, a small flock of snow buntings and, in the distance, a moose with her two youngsters. Leaving there a half-hour ago I saw a moose right near the development. Still a thrill.

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