AND HERE WE GO AGAIN...TORNADO!!

Something has shifted – don’t be surprised if snowstorm after snowstorm happens in Alabama this winter – we’re getting Justi’s tornados it seems! The one on Friday was a shock – and a wake-up call. Most of us didn’t take the warning seriously, and WHAM! It was on us and caused considerable property damage. When the Weather Network put out more alerts for this afternoon and evening, do you think we are paying attention?? You can bet your tootsie we are!!


I was to visit a couple of clients in the city and had planned to leave around 1 PM this afternoon. I noticed Grump was very hyper since 11 or so this morning. He is such a calm doggie that just that alone gives cause for concern. Then the news came in – and the trip to the city was immediately cancelled.


I sent Suzie home already, but before she left she helped bring in anything that could fly away outside – my gallery swing, chairs.... and the BBQ is stationed beside my bedroom doors ready to be rolled inside if I see the wind picking up.


There is a weird, grey stillness in the air. Thunder rolls can be heard off in the distance, but are getting louder. My mountain is wearing a dense mist. Oh yeh – there’s a bully of a storm approaching!


My older son, Bow, and his Japanese wife, Yo, wanted us to all come to wait it out at their home which is situated on the other side of the city, and out of danger range. First of all, it is much too late for that. My daughter and my youngest son with their families live in this area too. We’re keeping tabs on each other, and will do so until it is all over. Maybe it will just slip by us all as it did to me last Friday.


In the meantime, I’m going outside with my nervous Grump and watch it come. I love turbulent weather...to a point. Don’t worry; I’ll be hiding down in the basement with my two doggies if it gets too wild!!


I’ll be back later with the update! Sending you all a huge SMILE!!


Luv from the Bush in Quebec (or is it Alabama???)

SAVED BY A BEER!

Photo credit Amy Reynolds


A Grade 1 tornado came roaring through our area on Friday. What is so unusual is that tornados are NOT usual here. The last one that was even remotely close to us occurred in June 1888, according to some history buffs, and it was still about 70 miles away.

My DIL, who works in an explosives factory, had mentioned earlier in the day that the Weather Network was broadcasting the possibility of tornados. My son laughed at her. That doesn’t happen here, he told her. She still stressed that I was to take the boys to the basement if there be any sign of such weather.
I picked up my oldest rug rat from school at 4 PM, and then we both went for his two little brothers who were in daycare. After supper, we went outside to play for an hour or two; it was a beautiful afternoon. We went inside for bath time at 7 PM. My DIL arrived from work at 7:30; it had just started to rain, and a wind was blowing, but nothing dramatic. Being in the same mind set as my son (tornado not likely!), and knowing that he would be home from work too within the hour, I headed to my bush. The doggies would be hungry.

By the time I hit my bush road, it was POURING rain. I felt my truck shift as I took a curve. Whoa, I thought, skidding. Too much water on the road. I reduced speed, then realized that it wasn’t water but the wind that was pushing my truck around. I was close to the house, so other than lifting my awareness a notch, I wasn’t much alarmed. It stopped raining 5 minutes after I pulled into my garage. The wind was still quite brisk, and the clouds were low and dark, but I’ve seen worse. Within the half hour the dogs had eaten and we were out taking a walk. All was well.....in MY part of the county. At that same moment my poor DIL was trembling in her basement with the children, without electricity, hearing the terrible noise of the wind...experiencing her first tornado. She was also extremely worried about my son. He would be out on the road in this gale, driving back from his job, which is an hour’s trip west.

Her worry was well founded. Any other night, my son would have been caught on a road at the exact time the tornado ripped through there. That area was badly damaged, with hydro poles broken and down, trees uprooted, and silo tops torn off. However, halfway home, he had stopped to meet one of his friends for a quick beer. It may have saved his life. When he realized what had happened, with his usual route impassable, he called his family, and was relieved that everyone was okay.

I had an early bedtime, so was blissfully unaware of the event until the next morning. The only casualty was a small calf that was crushed under the debris of a crumbled barn. There is plenty of material damage, which is devastating, but it could have been worse. I shudder when I think of how close my son came to being in extreme danger.

He starts his ‘weekend’, or days off, as of tonight. When he gets home, I think I’ll drive over there and we’ll have a beer together, lifting it in a toast to those angels looking over us.

And yes, we’ll be SMILING!!


Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

AND NOW THIS....

Smooch, looks big here but is still just a sassy, playful puppy.

Yesterday morning was a ‘breakfast with the rug rats’ day, which means I’m up at 4 AM. I like to be fully awake, first for the drive to my son’s house, and then to greet the boys who hit the floor running at 5:30 AM. I had only been sleeping for a couple of hours, so was slightly grumpy when I woke with a terrible thirst to find that I had forgotten to fill the water glass beside my bed. I struggled out from under the blankets, picked up my glass and headed for the kitchen, muttering silently to myself. Because I was still dozy, I failed to remember that everything happens for a reason.


When I opened the kitchen door, it took a moment for me to take in what had happened. The first thing I noticed was that little Smooch was up, and came slowly shuffling (that’s how we describe the pup’s walk) towards me, head and tail down. The next thing was the sh*t (and was that vomit?), literally spread all over the floor. Even as I stood gaping, the pup was heaving again at my feet. I made a step towards the side door to let him out, but it was too late....and when I saw what he spewed, it struck terror in my heart.


Blood. Bright, red blood. A second look at the loose feces all around us showed blood too, and plenty of it.


The next few moments are slightly hazy. The poor little tyke made his way weakly to the door, but waited for me to go down into the dark with him as he vomited twice again. I already had the phone in hand, and stood outside shivering in my pyjamas as I tried to reach a vet. Our small community doesn’t have emergency service for domestic animals, I was told, but they did give me a number for a 24 hour service in Laval, which is about an hour’s drive from here. Somehow I managed to reach that number, get directions, text my grandson for help (who was sleeping over at his girl’s place...so didn’t answer right away, duh!), get dressed, do a swift and rudimentary cleanup in the kitchen, wrap up Smooch, who was trembling from exhaustion, and we were on our way.


The pup hates a leash; in fact he gets very hyper when he even sees one. He will, however, follow Grump voluntarily, and Grump listens well, so I had both dogs in the car as we barrelled towards the Laval clinic. In spite of never having been there, I knew the general area, and we made it in 45 minutes. At that time of night there isn’t much traffic on the road, nor police either, thankfully!


Smooch is still at the hospital. They were running tests to see if it’s a virus, which they doubt (he already had 2 of the 3 necessary vaccinations); or a gastro disease, or if maybe he swallowed something sharp that has perforated his stomach and intestine. In short, they don’t know yet what is happening. He seemed better when they called me yesterday at noon, then they called back at 3 PM to tell me that no, he was vomiting again, and they’re keeping him on antibiotics as they do more extensive tests.


Fred woke at 3:30 AM, read the ‘Urgent’ text on his phone, and called me immediately. There was really nothing he could do, but it was soothing just to hear his voice. I did make it back to my son’s house 5 minutes before his ride came to pick him up, and the rug rats were already awake. Their antics kept me from worrying myself into frenzy. My Cuban Suzie, who comes in to help for the business twice a week, and Fred, showed up not long after I got home, and they kept me grounded as I scrubbed the floor, finding more blood. At one point, Grump curled up on the couch beside me, and we both fell into a much needed sleep.


I have a long-awaited meeting in the city with another problem client this morning at 11 AM, and then will stop at the clinic on the way home.


I know you are all wishing me luck as you read this, because that’s the way friends are. It’s the love and support that we need, and that thought helps me keep my SMILE.


Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

MOTHER'S DAY

My oldest rug rat, N., with his little dog Weegie

My youngest son and his lady were still on night shift, so wouldn’t be joining us for the Mother’s Day lunch. I picked up the two oldest rug rats; it would give mummy a chance to rest. Tao, the youngest, is suffering from earaches again, and her hours of sleep are short. Besides, I hadn’t seen the boys since early Friday morning, and was beginning to suffer rug rat withdrawal.


Because they were hungry, the children had been served earlier than the rest of us, and N. was finished eating just as my meal arrived. He waited for about 10 minutes before asking me if I was going to ‘eat my whole plate’.


“Why do you ask?” I queried.


“I want to go home now. I don’t feel good.” He answered. I lifted my eyebrows in surprise. Maybe the fish he had eaten was bad? Yet – this restaurant was very busy, and had an excellent reputation. I was pretty sure that all food was fresh.


“You don’t feel good?” I repeated, studying him closely. He shook his head, but he didn’t look sick to me.


“Or maybe,” I asked slowly, “it’s just because you want to go home now?”


He nodded, twisting his hair around his finger as he said aloud, “Yes.”


This oldest child of my youngest son is a very introverted and sensitive person. Surrounded by familiar things is where he is most comfortable. He’s still young to be forced out of his comfort zone, yet my meal had just arrived, and I didn’t want to leave immediately. I decided to try a compromise.


“How about if you and M’mère take a walk outside? Maybe the fresh air would help you feel better?” He thought it over for a second then pushed back his chair, nodding his assent.


The sun was shining, so our short stroll was pleasant. While chatting about this and that, N. reminded me that we were to stop and get a flower for his mummy on the way home. It was an ‘Aha!’ moment.


“Is that why you want to leave now? So Mummy can get her flower?” His answer was another nod.


“Well then, M’mère will have time to eat her lunch, because mummy was going to sleep while Tao has his nap. We don’t want to wake her up.”


"But Tao has been sleeping a long time today,” answered this very astute young grandson of mine. “They’ll both be awake now.” I suspected that he was right. A new plan of action was needed. Somehow I convinced him that M’Mère would eat as quickly as possible, because I was really, really hungry, and then we would go to buy the flower. He reluctantly agreed and we re-entered the restaurant. I don’t think my dogs have ever watched me that closely as I finished what I could from my plate. Fortunately for us both, I don’t have a big appetite!


I remember...thirty minutes seems like forever to a child. Even the excitement of choosing his mother’s flower didn’t keep him from remarking that the way home seemed much longer than before. When we did arrive, it took him all of two seconds to jump out of the car and run into the house, so happy to offer his gift. Mummy was duly surprised and appreciative, and the joy in his smile made up for any indigestion which would probably result from my gobbling my meal.


I only stayed a few minutes – my other children were heading to my house on leaving the restaurant. N. was upstairs in the bathroom when I said my goodbyes and walked out to my truck. I had just opened the truck door when I heard him call out, “M’mère?” I looked up, and there was his sweet face in the open window, a huge grin on a happy little boy. He waved. “Bye M’mère!” he yelled.


Of course I SMILED all the way home.


Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

THE MESSAGE

Now there's a SMILE! My youngest rug rat, Tao, still wearing his breakfast at 5:30 AM!!


The big, bad monster was holding their brother hostage. The two super heroes jumped it! With much ferocious growling from the monster, and screams and giggles from the attackers, bodies were thrown here and there, pell-mell, fortunately landing on the soft mattress or bouncing onto forgiving couch cushions. The superheroes’ mother walked in from work and ended the scene. The monster, although enjoying herself immensely, realized that muscles and bones were going to hurt later...the interruption was appreciated.


It was 7:00 AM. After hugs and kisses, I headed for home to doggies who were as energetic at that time in morning as were the rug rats I had just left. The rain didn’t deter the beasts from insisting on a morning romp, so I donned raincoat over jeans over p.j.’s, and outside we went. The phone was already ringing when we entered the house an hour later. The work day had begun.


‘Complete rest!’ the doc had said.


Right.


She was talking to the wrong person. Not only I am no longer in a position financially to do nothing at all, but it would drive me up a wall; send me completely around the bend. So I compromised. I decided to do more of what I LIKED to do. Work was cut down; babysitting the rug rats while the parents did shift work stayed...as did the doggies, of course.


What else? I have to write more. It’s another thing I enjoy doing. And sleep when I feel the need. And cook – then eat as regularly as possible.


My recipe for curing burnout: Take 3 young lads aged 6 and 4 and 1; add 2 rambunctious doggies; throw in some wild playing, some long walks outside, some caring friends and family; stir it all together. While it simmers, tell a couple of civil servants to take a hike (politely), some deadbeat clients to do the same, sit out in the sun, read some good books....and remember why you’re here.


Having long ago despaired of possessing any particular talent to offer this world, I had decided my ‘purpose for being’ was to be Happy; the capital letter deliberate. Happiness spreads – there is nothing quite as contagious as a sincere smile, emphasis on the word ‘sincere’, and there is nothing more fulfilling (to me) than to see a sad and/or angry expression react in surprise, watch the light come into eyes, and an answering smile shine through. You know that you have helped that person a little; handed him/her a touch of joy. It’s my favorite rush.


My dilemma was that in spite of knowing this, my state of mind would not permit me to act. My recipe wasn’t working. Then I received the message.


It was late Thursday afternoon. My Cuban Suzie and I were shuffling papers in my home office when the dogs began to bark; the ‘Beware-stranger-come now!’ noise. Standing on the stairs, but careful to stay behind the gate out of the reach of the noisy animals, was a man waving a paper. Another bailiff – the third I had seen in the past month. My ex-partner’s fiasco was landing on my doorstep.


Suzie was just leaving, and I caught the sympathy in her eyes as she hugged me goodbye. I felt any energy drain away. Alone now with the doggies, I threw the paper on the table without reading it, then numbly grabbed a beer from the fridge. ...and let my mind slide into neutral.


I’m not sure when I fell to sleep, but it was early. I woke up around 2 AM, thirsty, but surprisingly rested. It was two coffees later when I steeled myself and picked up the paper to read it. When I saw the file number, composed of 4 numbers and 3 letters, it hit me like a rap on the head. I stared, then started to laugh. I couldn’t wait to make calls in the morning.


The female lawyer’s voice was quite ‘official’ when I reached her. I told her who I was, advised her that I had received her papers, and I’m sure she couldn’t help but hear the glee in my voice when I offered to read her the file number. She probably thought I was drunk, although it was only 10 AM.


“Number xxxxxx,” I said. “And that is followed by the letters, GOD!” I laughed into the phone. “Now, ma’am, I know I’m ahead on this one with such a file number!! What could anyone possibly do to me?”


Maybe it was my delight, or was it her astonishment when confirming the file reference which, she told me, is computer generated? Whatever – it set the mood for our conversation, and we hung up with her affirmation that things would be looked into.... both of us still laughing.


The next five calls I made were ones I had been putting off for similar reasons. Although the special file number was not part of those conversations, my attitude remained the same, with the result that each conversation ended in laughter too. There were no exceptions.


I am not religious, but I am spiritual. I had been praying for a boot in the butt to get me out of that desperate grey hole where I’ve been living lately. My answer was delivered instead with humor – from the least likely place one would expect it – with a bailiff yet!!! Instead of a boot, it was a gentle shove....and a huge SMILE!


I’m still SMILING, and sharing it with y’all!!


Luv from the Bush in Quebec.