Saturday: JUST CALL ME ANGEL OF THE MORNING (ANGEL)

 

Now do you see why I have a good chuckle every morning when I look into the bathroom mirror? With this hair, you never know exactly what you’re going to see when I first get out of bed.

I’ve been up since 7 a.m.

A full pot of coffee is made and I’ve wiped the kitchen table, which I somehow never got around to last night. The rest of the household is still snoring.

Kaity wasn’t able to come after all. She called Thursday morning, naturally upset, having learned that her stepmom is in a hospital in Alberta, not expected to live. She drove that direction instead.

Her other dad, “Dad Cam” she calls him, flew into Saskatoon yesterday morning, rented a car, and drove out here. He picked up my boys in Wadena on his way past and we spent the afternoon and evening visiting. Gord, their dad, came walking into the yard at 7. He’d arrived from St. Albert (Edmonton) and his vehicle had slid off the driveway and been pulled by the snow into the ditch. Shovelling and pushing only made it go in deeper. Fortunately there was a Good Samaritan in the next farmyard who came and pulled it out with a tractor.

Supper was Cinnamon and Chicken Stew and Drop Biscuits.

We’re back in the deep freeze again, by the way. Full-on winter. But a flock of Canada geese flew over the yard the other day, so it must be spring. I haven’t slipped and fallen on my ass this year; knock on wood.