THE BREAKFAST EPISODE

Oops!!


“Bali, don’t open that door.” My five year old grandson stood there, his hand on the knob, and asked the inevitable question.

"Why?”

“Look at Smooch and Grump. If you open it, they’ll both come rushing in here and you could get hurt.” Bali looked through the glass door. He studied the two pit-bulls, each of them at least as big as he was himself. They were staring back at him. Having imparted the warning, I turned back to the stove to continue frying eggs for breakfast. I should have known better.

If it had been the oldest boy, the very timid Nalou, no doubt my words would have had impact. But it was Bali – and he’s fearless. He also ‘pushes the envelope’. Even aware there’s a 90% chance that he’ll be scolded for it, he’ll try anything once.

Sure enough, I heard the scramble behind me. I whipped around to see
1) the two dogs barreling through the door;
2) The door’s impact pushing Bali backwards;
3) Bali getting stuck between the door and the love seat;
4) The child’s eyes grow very round and double in size;
5) Grump keep coming, but Smooch stopping right in Bali’s face.....

and giving it quite the wash!!

The top of Smooch’s head comes just under Bali’s chin; easiest licking access one could find, and Smooch took full advantage of it! Although at first startled, the boy had recovered, and was giggling and squirming and trying to get away - mission impossible backed into a corner the way he was.

The pit puppy was dancing in excitement. When Grump decided to join the play, I forgot about the eggs, and hurried to step in before things got too hectic. I hadn’t been kidding when I’d told him he could get hurt. He is such a little guy, no match for two massive, rambunctious doggies, no matter they don’t mean to harm him.

Grump obeyed immediately when I yelled “Stop! Out!”. Smooch, possessed with an attitude similar to Bali, was not paying attention, and I had to grab his collar and literally pull him away to shove him through the door before closing it swiftly behind him. I looked down at my still giggling grandson. When he saw my face, his smiles changed to ‘Oops!’ (I’m not sure how many times a day I hear him say that!).

I pointed to the breakfast table, not saying a word. Bali, aware that he was in doo doo, and biting his lip in an attempt to be as serious as warranted by the occasion, heeded my signal this time. He walked towards the table where his two brothers waited, both awestruck by the daring of their sibling....and laughing uproariously now that any perceived danger was over. He had a parting shot, of course. “See, Mmère? Smooch didn’t hurt me!”

Did I tell you I forgot the eggs frying on the stove?

Two hours later, after re-doing breakfast, completing the teeth-brushing detail, the dressing, the helping downstairs, the going back up to change because Bali, deciding to pee outside, had aimed his stream at his older brother’s shoes; then fixing into car seats, the chatty ride to the day care, comforting two year old Tao who didn’t WANT day care, and on the way back home, answering a minimum of 20 ‘why’ questions from Nalou...I was ready to begin my workday.

“Nalou, you’ll have to amuse yourself quietly for a couple of hours,” I told my oldest rug rat. “Mémère has alot of work to do today, and I’m already starting late.”

“Why are you starting late?”

I should have expected that response. There was some irritation in my tone when I answered him.

“Because there was lots of action this morning to get you all fed and your brothers off to daycare,” I said. “Mémère isn’t used to this. We’ll have to learn to streamline our mornings, so that preparation won’t take so long.”

My grandson lifted his nose and sniffed the odour still present in the house.

“Well, you could start by not burning the eggs the first time,” he suggested.

Did I SMILE? Hell, no – I laughed outright!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

I CAN REMEMBER....

Bali, the wildest of the rug rats


It was a walk down memory lane.

In this particular store, I am usually in the pet section, buying dog food, or treats, or toys. Yesterday I was strolling the baby area: bibs, plastic spoons, soothers, security gate...and all those cute outfits that will make any mom or granny go “Awww. So cute!”. In spite of temptation, I didn’t buy clothes, but the basics that every house with a baby could need: shampoo, and soap, fever syrup, wipes – all those things I haven’t bought for 30 years; all those things that I just know my son will forget to pack whenever it is our turn to keep the boys.

From there I went for groceries. Once again, memories came flooding back. Shopping for one, and mostly organic foods, is much different than for a young family. Trying hard to recall what my own children had enjoyed, I went from aisle to aisle; the end result was a full cart and a whopping amount to pay the lady at the checkout. My son didn’t even raise an eyebrow when I gave him the bill later; apparently it is normal costs to feed a family of five.

On the way home, I stopped at one of my daughter’s friends. She runs a daycare, and had an extra high chair and potty to lend me. After things were set up back at the house, I looked around and marveled at how different the rooms looked. Any breakable decoration had been put away; there were toys and books and kiddie stuff here and there. Even the feel of the place has changed. Although only the doggies and I were home at the moment, one could sense that silence and serenity has given way to giggles and noise and lively action.

Hmmm. Was I ready for this?

Jo had left just before noon, taking the rug rats to spend the day at his dad’s lake. He would be staying there for supper. I suspected that he wanted to give me some space to gear up for days ahead. This week I’ll have the boys to myself while he is at work, and he is very aware of how much my routine will be altered. I was beginning to realize it too. Occasional babysitting does not require the same energy as living nearly full time.

When they did arrive, it was quite late. Jo came up the stairs carrying a very sleepy Bali. Knowing that he would have to go back down for the baby, I held out my arms, and the wildest of my grandsons came to me easily, all cuddly and sweet. I stole at least 10 kisses before we made it to his bed. With one last hug and a little boy grin, he turned over and slipped into dreamland. I tucked the blankets around him, and doubts about our ability to make this work disappeared. I leaned over and gave him one more kiss, and I SMILED.

Luv from The Bush in Quebec.

THE FIRST DAY

“We’re staying here, Mémère! Can I have some ice cream?” Five year old Bali smiled up at me.

“Mommy and Daddy are in separation, so we’ll be living here sometimes now.” Nalou added his comment calmly. It was late Friday night. My son had just arrived with the boys after a day with friends at the lake. The two oldest rug rats were with me in the kitchen; Daddy had carried the sleeping baby upstairs to bed.

“No ice cream before bedtime, Bali,” I answered him. “But Mémère has other snacks.” I motioned them to come closer so that they could choose. I put my hand on the oldest boy’s shoulder

“That’s okay, Nalou. Mémère is alone here, so it will be nice to have you guys around. The house is big enough – we have lots of room.”

“And we can run and run!” piped up Bali. He had made his choice and stood eating it, grinning from ear to ear.

Nalou had started eating too. The more serious of the two, he thought for a moment, then added “And Smooch will learn to play with us.” We turned to look at the pup. He was standing on the gallery, staring inside, his tail going a mile a minute. His habit of jumping up when he is excited would keep him out there for now. My son and I had already decided that we would introduce the rambunctious and very big puppy slowly, not only to keep the boys from misunderstanding his intentions and learning to fear him, but also to avoid any accidents. With Grump there was no problem; he was gentle, and the rug rats and he already knew each other.

We chatted about their afternoon for a short while before their dad called them up to bed too; nothing more was mentioned about the separation. My son looked exhausted when he joined me afterwards. He had worked long hours all week, there was the energy required for tending the children, and his emotions are on the edge with the change forced upon him. When a text came in from his ex-lady, telling him she wanted to meet him for discussion, he shook his head.

“I’m so damned tired,” he said. “But she’s insisting, so I’d better go.”

“No!” This from the mother who swore she would not get involved. I handed him the phone. “Call her and tell her to come here. You’ve had the boys all day. You can talk in the living room – it’s private – and you are too beat to drive. She’s been on vacation all week.” When he hesitated, I thrust the phone closer.

“Call!” I repeated. He did. She came, and I closed myself in my office to leave them in peace.

More than an hour later, my son and I shared a nightcap, the doggies at our feet. His lady was having second thoughts; has decided that she loved him after all. He was uncertain – this has happened twice now. He’s not so ready to acquiesce this time. When he finished speaking, we sat in silence, each deep in thought.

“I’ll need to take time to think on this,” he said. At the same moment I was saying “No hurry. Take your time to think about it.” We stopped – mother and son, so much alike – and looked at each other.

And we SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

AND SO IT BEGINS...

My much loved Rug Rats


And so....shared custody has begun.

The rug rats will be spending next week with their daddy and Mémère (My good buddy, Kilroy, showed me how to spell it right). Daddy is working days, and leaves the house around 5:30 AM, which is approximately the time that Bali, the 5 year old rug rat, hits the floor running.

After breakfast, Mémère and Nalou, the 7 year, will drive the 2 youngest to daycare for 8:30 AM, then return home where, hopefully, Mémère will work while we find something for Nalou to do other than spin out his constant ‘Why?’ questions. Central vac – don’t let me down!!

At 4:00 PM, Mémère and Nalou will pick his siblings up from daycare; we’ll play outside with the doggies until it’s time to make supper, and daddy will join us at 6:30 PM. Because it is summer, there will be no homework on the schedule; only play and baths and stories until the 8 PM bedtime. Rug rats will dream... and Mémère will pour herself an enormous glass of wine.

My son is at his ‘ex’ house with the boys tonight. We only corresponded by texting, and he said that he has told the boys they will be staying here next week, but did not go into detail about their reactions to the news. Children are not so different than adults after all. I expect they, like me and my son, are just waiting to see how things work out. There’s some apprehension, some excitement, some resignation, and ideally, mostly confidence that all will be fine.

Children are fascinating, comical, sweet and, at times, little hellions. It’s guaranteed that I’ll have many stories to tell!

I sat on my gallery swing tonight, the doggies calm at my feet, absorbing the peaceful silence of the bush while analysing the situation. It ‘s as if I’m going back in time to where my house rang with the laughter and squabbling of my own 3 young’uns (and many of their friends) on a daily basis. My body is older now, but I’m pretty sure the heart is still young enough to keep up to the lads. If not, well...maybe I’ll hunt down that roll of duct tape tomorrow.

There’s a thought that makes me SMILE! Sharing it with you – one of many to come!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

FULL HOUSE

There is a spiffy new tap in my kitchen – one of those professional jobs high enough to wash huge stew pots, with a removable nozzle that can stretch to spray whatever needs spraying with no problem. Kool! Tired as he was, my son installed it last night when he arrived from work... helped (hindered?) by Smooch, who kept sticking his head under the sink, obscuring the view and being a general nuisance. I could hear Jo’s voice as he talked to the dog, and I’m pretty sure ‘Cute puppy’ is NOT what he was saying, LOL!

We sat and chatted when he finished. My son had stopped off at his own house to see the rug rats on his way home, had a discussion with my DIL, and it looks like the separation is official now. His spirits were much higher. As he said – it was the uncertainty that was the hardest. Now that the decision is made, we bite the bullet and do what needs to be done. My DIL will be out tonight, so he’ll be staying over there with the boys. Some of the weekend will be spent childproofing this house and going over work schedules to make sure everyone is where they need to be when my DIL starts back to shift work on Monday.

A big change in our lives? Oh yes – that’s a given. Fortunately, both parents are determined that it be as easy as possible for the children, as is M’mère (me). Adapting will have its ups and downs, but everyone being on the same wavelength is already a step in the right direction.

Jo has the rug rats here this weekend, and Fred is arriving from Alberta on Friday– a short surprise visit to celebrate his girlfriend’s birthday. I guess you could say I’m going to have a full house. One thing I can guarantee; in spite of the pain brought on by such an event, there will be plenty of love spread around. That’s our family – and that’s what we do best.

And that’s why I’m SMILING!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

DAYS OF CHANGE

I heard it first from my DIL; the mommy of the rug rats. I was doing dishes when she called. What she was saying forced me to stop and sit down...and listen. I was still mulling the conversation over in my head, had only just hung up the phone, when my daughter rang. Having always been my DIL’s first choice as confidant, she would already be aware of the situation.

“Did you talk to M”?” my daughter asked. “She told me she was going to call you right after telling me.”

“Yes,” I answered. “And I don’t know what to think or say. I’ve been in that house more often lately than I ever was, and I never saw this coming.”

I had noticed that my easy-going son has been uptight lately. I put it down to his being tired from the long shifts, the hours of renovations he was doing to their home, and the never flagging energy of three little lads. Neither of the parents had much time alone together, let alone to his/her self. The latter is what led my DIL to ask for a separation. She feels that she is losing herself in all this, and is no longer sure that my son is who she wants. Apparently the signs have been there for awhile. My son, true to form, never let on what was happening. He is not one to discuss private affairs.

I picked the boys up from daycare as usual that afternoon. When their daddy arrived at 8 PM, they were bathed and the two youngest were in bed. We needed to talk, and we did; the event, the feelings, the decisions – we went over each, fluttering from one subject to the next. Or rather, he spoke, and I did my best to listen without judging and/or offering advice. Nothing was certain yet, he told me; they would take a break from each other and go from there. There was no animosity involved – she felt confused and needed space. With time, she would maybe change her mind.

And that’s the way it presently stands. My son has been staying here, and it’s a pleasure to have him around. His weekend was spent camping on a beach with the boys while mommy spent her time elsewhere. Last night, when he arrived from work, we briefly touched on making this house childproof, on measures needed for adapting the doggies (especially Smooch!) to the kids, then shelved the details for later. I could tell he is reluctant to consider that it may come to shared custody. He’s still hoping a short time apart will fix things up.

It was late when we went to bed, and I didn’t sleep a wink. It is sad, but worse things could happen. I know we can handle whatever the results may be; the bonds and love in our family, my son included, are strong. I’m also a firm believer that everything happens for a reason.

I went out to the kitchen for a cup of warm milk. Smooch opened one eye, and went right back to his doggie dreams. Grump got up, stretched, then meandered over to where I was sitting and put his head on my knee. Grump is very keen to whatever emotion his mistress may be experiencing.

“Well, Grump-puppy, prepare yourself,” I told him as I fondled his ears. “We did our stint alone, then along came Fred....then along came Smooch...and now a possible invasion by three rug rats!” Grump looked up at me, paying close attention.

“Now that’s gonna be Rock ‘N Roll!” Knowing it was okay, Grump wagged his tail, and I SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

WATER, WATER EVERYWHERE...

What happened? There seems to have been a problem with ‘water runneth over’ for many of us. My taps joined the fracas yesterday. Earlier, when speaking to my Japanese daughter-in-law, she told me my son had spent a good part of his day trying to repair a tap in their downstairs bathroom – it had sprung a bad leak. I laughed.

“Weird, huh?” I answered her. “A couple of my writer friends on Blogit had the same thing happen this weekend!” Me and my big mouth!! It wasn’t even an hour later when...... I had dishes piled up, so turned on the tap to get them washed. Water sprayed all over the kitchen! Eek! I can see where the seal is broken – but there was nothing I could do about it at that time of day, except shut the darned thing off, tie a rag around it (to remind me not to turn it on again) and wait for my son to come and repair it tonight. Still – it’s small potatoes compared to Corbin’s washing machine problem. It would be interesting to take a survey and see how many others across our countries had a similar event, LOL!

I spend most of Sunday snoozing off and on, so if anything new happened, I’m not yet aware of it. Not being used to going out so often, plus the usual lack of normal sleep, caught up to me. It was short naps, broken only by some cooking and brief walks with the doggies. The heat outside played its part. The older I get, the less my endurance for high temperatures. I’m all for siestas on hot days!

It’s Monday morning – the beginning of a very busy week, so I’ll get to it. Wishing you all a great day, folks; starting it off with a huge SMILE!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

MOVING ON

Photo courtesy of Photobucker msbookes


In keeping with the action going on around here lately, the afternoon found me sitting on an outdoor terrace, having drinks with some friends I hadn’t seen for ages. I ran into them on my way back from a client visit. I stopped at the store to buy dog food and wow – fancy meeting you here and how’ve you been? We spent a pleasant couple of hours together, rehashing old times....instead of sitting at my computer working, which is what I am supposed to be doing on Friday afternoons. That was it – the day turned out to be a business holiday!

Saturday already had an afternoon party planned. My Cuban friends’ oldest son was celebrating his birthday. There was an abundance of food, wine, music and laughter and once again, more friends that I haven’t seen for such a long time. We gathered outside on the edge of a small lake. The geese that live there didn’t seem at all bothered by the noise we were making. It was well after midnight when I got back to the house, where two doggies gave me an exuberant welcome, followed by an equally exuberant “Please hurry – we need to GO!!”

Armed with flashlight and coffee, I strolled along the lane while my beasts roamed the lawn and the bush. I could hear, but not see, the intense sniffing investigation as they covered their territory. Every five minutes or so, one of them would be back to nose my hand, reassuring me of his presence, then was off again into the night to continue the task. It was a beautiful evening; the sky brimming with stars, a cool breeze ruffling my hair and that pervasive calm of my quiet bush.

I cut the walk short, because I was so very tired, but a good tired. The Jacuzzi ritual was skipped – it was straight to bed.

The past month has been hectic; full of activity and friends and much play, and I’m loving getting back into it. My mourning isn’t over, this I know, but it has drifted into its rightful place, leaving room for the other parts of life; the ups and downs, the laughter, the love...the whole kit and caboodle. I’ll take it and enjoy the ride!

When I snuggled into the warm arms of Morpheus, I was SMILING!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

FLASHBACK

My youngest son, the daddy of the rug-rats, showed up at my house yesterday afternoon with a couple of friends in tow. He was coming to invite me to a BBQ supper to be held at his friend’s house, and I decided to attend. It was a nice evening, except....

There was a man among the group – a friend of a friend – and all it took was one look at him to bring a rush of bad, bad memories crashing back. He was there with his family – his girlfriend, his 9 month old son, and her 7 year old daughter from a previous relationship. That didn’t stop him from becoming intoxicated and making a complete ass of himself. Not a funny ‘ha-ha’ ass; a surly, moody, smack on the head ass. It only took one glance to know that he wasn’t only into the booze. He was using cocaine to keep himself from falling over, and succeeded in making his attitude even more intolerable.

My son and I avoided him as much as we could, but he was, of course, in everybody’s face. His girlfriend took the baby and left for home shortly after eating; the little girl was sleeping over at the host’s house with his daughter, who is her playmate. Not long after his girlfriend’s departure, this idiot jumped into his truck and, in spite of people trying to convince him not to drive, tore out of the yard, tires squealing. There is nothing one can do to stop a man in that mental state, except call the cops, which his friends were reluctant to do. Well aware of this, I sent up a silent prayer that he would make it home safe – not for him, but for the unsuspecting other drivers he would be meeting on the road.

His girlfriend was not so reluctant. When he arrived home and started his violence, she did call the authorities and he was carted off to jail. Thank You for a swift answer to that prayer! And thank you to the hosts for refusing to let the little girl go home with him. The look in that child’s eyes when she heard it being discussed tells me that this is not the first time it has happened. I felt a hot rage start from my toes and completely engulf me. I needed to leave. My son had his own vehicle. He knew what I was feeling, so told me he would be along shortly and hugged me goodbye.

It’s been two years since I lost my closest friend, a wonderful (when sober) man I loved deeply, to that nasty combination of intoxicating substances. Trying everything in my power to help him, I lived moments of pure hell before I finally gave up the fight. The booze and drugs won. In his case, they are still winning. In my case, it has taken most of those two years to dig myself out of the dark, emotional hole it created inside. Having a natural positive nature helped, and the strength of warm and caring family and friends did the rest, but that scene last night woke some ghosts.

Once home, I went for a long stroll with the doggies. Under a star-filled sky, I inhaled the fresh air and the quiet calm of the bush. I was already more relaxed when my son showed up, offering additional support, and we sat and chatted until the wee hours of the morning. By the time I went to bed, things were again okay in my personal world.

Remembering that it was all behind me now, we were on our way back up, I SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

CONSPIRACY!

I have the impression of having just arrived from an extended holiday, and that I am floundering, trying to get back to my normal routine. I suspect it started from Suzie’s presence, resulting in my being away from the house most evenings during her stay. This was followed by the birthday period, which seems to be never ending. I have been continually invited to drop in here and there for a glass of wine to toast the event, not counting the party itself held last Saturday. Then the gift from my oldest son and his wife was a hairdresser’s appointment. That happened late yesterday afternoon and took three hours (!!!). My daughter is dragging me to shop clothes this weekend; it’s her gift for my birthday. Are my children trying to tell me something?

I’ll tell you what I think!! It’s a conspiracy! My family and friends are determined that I no longer “hole yourself up in the house, with just work and doggies”, as they state I have been doing for so long. I believe they got together, decided to allot me some time to recuperate from the hectic and emotional upheaval of the past 4 years, and now, as far as they’re concerned, the period is over. It’s no longer okay to just keep keepin’ on.

I guess I started the ball rolling myself, although totally unaware of what I was setting in motion. I casually mentioned to my daughter that I’ve been chatting to a couple of fellows off and on since a month or so. Both my cousin and step-sister were gung ho about the internet dating sites they had used. After one of their conversations, on one of those sleepless nights, whether from boredom or curiosity, I logged into a couple of the sites to check out the action. After reading for a bit, I decided to set up my profile and see what would happen. The least it could do would be to give me people to chat with in the middle of the night, and I might even get a story out of it! I was pleasantly surprised when, weeding through numerous hits by professional players, I found myself conversing with some people who were sane, were interesting, and were there simply to meet new people outside the bar scene.

On hearing this, my daughter’s expression resembled that of Smooch when you show him a new ball. Oops, I thought. What did I just do?

It’s obvious that she immediately contacted her brothers, maybe some friends too, and that’s where the conspiracy was born! They were going to get their mom back to an active Life; to the same person they knew a few years ago...or something along those lines. My agenda is peppered with social engagements. That’s something I haven’t seen for a good while. I feel a slight nudge of panic as I search the pages for a quiet night at home with my doggies.

I’ll go along for the ride...for now. I must admit I am enjoying it – the call to action has always held an element of excitement. It’s one more reason to SMILE!

And there it goes – cybering its way to y’all! Will be watching for yours in return!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

SIMPLER THINGS

Photo courtesy of heckyeah81 on Photobucket


Hmm...yes. Birthdays. Even though we celebrated last Saturday, today is the real one.

It was 2:30 AM. I fell to sleep as I was trying to remember if my mom had ever mentioned what time I was born. She did say that I arrived very quickly, making my appearance on the elevator ride towards the delivery room, but if she told me the time, I’ve forgotten. Not that it matters; I’m here anyway, and I’ve been here one more year today.

If I was still a child living on the farm, I would be very excited this morning. There were always a few friends who were invited to my birthday party. We would play games outside under the watchful eye of my foster mother, who we called Grandma, then gather around a table to drink Freshie (a brand of Kool-Aid) and eat small sandwiches with crusts removed for the occasion.

The pièce de resistance was the cake; a round, layered white cake with sweet, coloured icing, crowned with little candles to be lit at the last minute. Surrounded by joyous sound of voices singing the birthday song, I’d close my eyes, make my wish, and blow as hard as I could to put them ALL out! Being in the place of honor insured me the first slice, but I knew I had to wait until the others were served before even thinking of taking a bite. In any case, all of us would use our forks to search for the coins which we would find in each piece. Pennies mostly, a couple of nickels, maybe a dime or two, but the coveted prize was the one quarter that had been inserted between the baking and the decorating. Finding the quarter made you King or Queen for the moment and merited applause from the group. One could buy many things with a quarter in those days. With all the present hype on health and hygiene, I can’t help but wonder how many eyebrows would be raised about that practice now. I wouldn’t be surprised if Grandma hadn’t thought to wash those coins before they were put into the cake. I do know they were cleaned afterwards by children putting them in mouths and sucking off every crumb.

The party would only last a couple of hours. Farmers have work that must be done, and children, unless you were the birthday girl, were not excluded. While the others were dispersed to do the daily chores, I was allowed to curl up somewhere with the new book I had received as a gift. There would always be one; my reputation for love of reading was well known even then.

Simpler things for simpler times; there were no clowns, nor hired pony rides, nor magicians, nor days out at a MickeyD’s or amusement parks. Gifts were often homemade, as was the food. We had just as much fun, and the memories are maybe more precious, because parties were a rare and special occasion then; not so much the ongoing events that many kids seem to thrive on today.

Before I get to sounding too much like an old fogey...my plan for the day is the minimum of office work, a start on sorting what to keep and not to keep from the closets and, for old time’s sake, some quiet hours with a good book.

I’ll be wearing my Birthday SMILE, and it’s a biggie!! Sending you your share...!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

WHO SAID BELFRY?

One of my favourite inventions is the cordless telephone, in spite of how often I have to hunt for the darned thing when I need to use it. The reason I like them so much is that I don’t sit to chat on a phone – I’m a stroller. I can walk through every room in the house while having a good conversation. Up and down, all around I go. It’s a habit that can drive any occupant residing with me crazy, especially when I wander into the immediate area where that person is watching TV. My voice carries well too, so the combination of these things can be slightly annoying.

All this to tell you that I was having a charming conversation with a friend last night, taking my usual stroll... and something caught my eye. What was hanging from one of my lampshades? Still chatting, I edged closer, wanting a better look. Wow, I thought silently, that’s some huge butterfly!

I was engrossed in my conversation, so the first glance was just cursory. I went on by, turned and came back, passed it, maybe five or six times, each time looking at it a little longer. No –not a butterfly. Maybe a giant moth?

Finally I bent over to look at it from underneath. It was the weirdest moth I had ever seen.

“I’ve got this thing hanging from my lamp,” I tell my friend on the other end of the line. “It looks like a huge moth, but I don’t know...” While describing it to her, my suspicions grew.

"What does a bat look like?" I asked her. With her help, I determined that, yes; it was a bat, albeit not a very big one. I know very little about them. They are (were) not a creature that held my interest; in fact I was leery of them. Still, I couldn’t just leave it there, so we said our goodbyes and I stood back to stare at it. A plan of action was needed.

I have encountered bats in buildings now and then, but there had been males around to chase them away. This time I was on my own. It didn’t seem to be nervous – I had walked right up to it more than once while still on the phone. I decided to chance it staying put, and went to faithful old Google. When I typed ‘Bats in the House’, a load of information was at my disposal, and many myths died a sudden death.

The two most important points: it could have rabies (bad, but it’s rare); it eats millions of insects, like pesky mosquitoes (very, very good!). Unless there was a possibility of it having bit someone or something, just put it outside and let it go.

The doggies were outside. I brought them in through another door and shut them away. I opened all the doors and windows that led to the exterior, put on the lights, then grabbed my leather gloves and a broom. We were ready. Oops – where’s my camera? Like the phone, I can never find it when I want it!!

The dogs were making noise on the other side of the door, so I quit hunting for it, even if I really wanted a picture. Maybe I was pushing my luck. It was time to get things done.

The bat hadn’t moved. With a soft stroke, I brushed it off the shade. It fell/flew to the floor and stayed there.

"You’re supposed to fly outside!” I said. It wasn’t budging. Okay, on to plan number B.

I retrieved some cardboard sheets from my office and a plastic dish from the kitchen cupboard. Moving slowly, I put the dish over the little bat, then slid the cardboard under the dish. I picked the whole thing up in gloved hands and walked outside, then shook the dish over the gallery railing. My visitor disappeared into the darkness. I couldn’t see if it flew, or if it just sailed down onto the lawn.

It only took a few minutes to close everything up again. I kept the dogs inside. If the little creature was still in the grass, I didn’t want my hunter, Smooch, to find it. No use taking chances.

Proud of my ‘sang-froid’? You’re darned tootin’! Besides, I learned a lot from this episode, and now have a healthy appreciation of bats.

I’m even more delighted that I didn’t have to kill it. That thought alone makes me SMILE.

Sharing it with you as always, folks!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

PLAY HARD, WORK HARD

It was a nice time – it always is with this group of young ‘uns. Because the party was held a week in advance this year, none of my personal friends were able to attend, all being busy elsewhere. Besides my own kids, there was also most of those who were on our Mexican trip, so I guess the appropriate term here would be ‘extended family’, LOL! We were in and out of the host’s in-ground pool; adults laughing good naturedly when splashed by bomb dives of the children; chilled sangria punch and an ample cold buffet were distributed by the now-adolescent girls and, darn – but they have grown up so fast since last year!

My youngest son, daddy to the rug rats, had opted for a break from his gruelling schedule of work, boys and renovations. He came alone, and was happy to join me in my truck for the ride back to the house at 3 AM. He crashed on the huge sofa, and I went outside with two very joyful doggies. Our stroll lasted until the sun came up. At 5:30 AM I crawled into bed too, grabbing a short snooze before my son stirred. I drove him back to town for his vehicle, strolled once more with the dogs when I got home, then hit the sack again. I did nothing but sleep off and on the rest of the day.

With Suzie being here, my house has been neglected. Suzie left for Michigan this morning, and I won’t be rug rat sitting for the next two weeks, so it’s the perfect time to get back to serious work (on the business side) and a deep cleaning and shuffling and de-rat-packing...and have I created a new word?

Now that Fred’s little lady is living downstairs, the closets there need to be emptied of stuff that has been stored for ages. She could use the space. My higher level is in the same condition – as are many of the closets on the first level. It will be a Summer-Spring cleaning. I’ve made a self-promise that I really will shut my eyes and throw things into bags and boxes and actually rid myself of them. I mean it this time. Sigh.

One thing that I have been routinely doing is working with Smooch, and it is paying off. Although not yet totally well-behaved, he was much calmer when greeting my son this morning and, although he hesitated some, he did listen to commands in spite of a guest presence. It’s a huge improvement from even a few days ago.

My baby is growing up, and that makes me SMILE.

Sending you your share of those SMILES, folks, and wishing you the sweetest of dreams.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

BACK TO ROUTINE

Suzie is leaving early tomorrow AM – on her way home to Michigan. Her two week vacation passed quickly. We try to see each other as much as possible when she is here. Unless I can make it down to visit her this autumn, it will be Christmas before we meet again.

The poor girl – she lost both an aunt and a cousin during her visit this time – her cousin was only 57 and succumbed to that dreadful cancer. The funeral is today, so Suzie won’t be attending our annual birthday bash celebrating both my son and me. It’s happening this afternoon too. Who would feel like walking into a party right after saying goodbye to a loved one?

I’m sure my doggies, if they could be aware of what’s going on, would be happy to see her go. For the past two weeks I’ve been away every night for more than a few hours. Although she cares for animals, Suzie is not at ease around canines, so I’ve been going to her house after work. Now the normal routine will slip back into place; mistress will start giving them her undivided attention at day’s end. Because my son and his lady are on vacation too, I won’t even be away with the rug rats. These hounds will be in their glory!!

And I’m sure you have all seen how a doggie can SMILE!!!

Sharing them with you (Even one for Mr. Graysome!!)

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

WHY?

Nalou


Since school has shut down for the summer, the oldest of my rug rats, Nalou, has been spending his days either with his maternal grandparents or with me here at home. He has always been an observant child. Now, instead of just studying things in his quiet way, he has become a delegate for the word “Why?”. I’m sure he asked me a thousand questions yesterday, some that were not thought out, and each followed by another ‘why?’. My patience was getting frayed; concentration on my work was impossible.

“Why is your favorite word, isn’t it?” I finally said to him. That knowing little smile of his told me he knew this adult was near her point of exasperation. He nodded, and waited for all of 3 minutes to let things cool down before starting all over again. I put my accounting work aside. My grandson’s eyes widened with pleasure when he realized that he now had my full attention. What he didn’t know, and was about to learn, is that I’ve remembered how to deal with this. My oldest son, Bow, was the champion for questions when he was Nalou’s age.

“Why do you keep asking me questions?” I was looking straight at him. He shrugged, staring down at the pencil he had been twirling on my desk.

“Because I want to know,” he replied.

“But why do you want to know?” He looked up at me.

“Because I’m still young. I have lots to learn.” No doubt his dad had given him that information!

“But why are you still young?” He thought about it.

“Well...because...” He looked to the side – this was one he had to think about. “Because I was only born a little while ago.”

“Why were you only born a little while ago?”

His response was more a question than a statement. “Because my mother and father waited to have me?”

“Why did they wait to have you?”

Our conversation continued on in this vein, but it didn’t take him long to figure it out.

“I know why you’re asking me these questions,” he declared.

“Why am I asking you these questions?” I was trying to keep a straight face.

“Because I’m being a pest by asking you why all the time.” Another piece of information no doubt imparted by his dad.

“So you know that - and often if you think about it you’ll know the answer yourself!” He nodded again, pursing his lips in the ‘busted’ expression.

“Then why are you still being a pest?” I couldn’t hold it back any longer. He saw my grin and started to laugh.

“Aww, M’mere!!” he answered. That was quickly followed by a “Can we do something else now?”

Sure we could. I pulled out the hose for my central vacuum, gave him a few instructions, and let him go at it. It kept him busy for a half hour or so. By then it was time to pick up his younger brothers from daycare. We had not left the driveway when he pointed to the infuser hanging from my mirror.

“What’s that?” he asked?

“It’s to make the truck smell good.” I answered.

“Why does it make the truck smell good?”

“Why do you think it makes the truck smell good?” I parried. He caught my glance, and replied quickly.

“Because it’s an infuser.” He said. I looked back at the road.

“Uh-huh!”

Comfortable in our truce, we both SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

MEET DORA

Little Dora - a new tenant!


It was 5:30 AM when my grandson came upstairs to hug me goodbye. He’s off to the other side of the country for another 30 days of work. His little girlfriend will find it difficult, I know. I remember how just a few hours of separation from ‘the love of your life’ can hurt, can seem to last forever. No matter the thought that it would be worse if he was going to war – he isn’t, but it’s the absence that counts at the moment, not the reason.

She is planning to bring in plants, has pictures ready to hang on the wall, and has already moved in her little kitten named Dora. The door between our respective living spaces is always closed, and Dora will be an ‘indoor’ cat, but I will still have to keep a very careful eye on our hunter, Smooch. It would take one second for someone to forget closing the door tight...and I don’t even want to think about the result. I’m trying to train Smooch to not hurt smaller animals, but the instinct is obviously there. Can one change instincts, I wonder?

Marie and I don’t know each other well. “I don’t think you’ll see her that much,” my grandson told me. “She’s very shy.”

We didn’t get to spend time with one another since she moved in; those ten days were reserved for Fred when she wasn’t working. Last night, suspecting that she would be more at ease if I spoke to her in his presence, I knocked and went down to chat a moment. Well, okay, I wanted to see the kitten too, and to make sure the mouse poison had been safely removed. I told her to come on up (‘Just make sure you close the door behind you!’) if she needed anything. I also mentioned that she might want to give me her work schedule. During those periods when Fred is away, I do my vacuuming or laundry at 3 AM in the morning if I happen to be up...read often... and I know her summer job involves shift work. The central-vac is located just outside her bedroom, and it makes one heck of a racket, and the laundry room is downstairs too. I may have to change my ways, LOL!

I hope she will be happy here out in the bush, for her sake as well as that of my grandson. Time will tell.

In the meantime, I will also have a regular visitor in my 7 year old grandson, Nalou. School being out, he’ll be spending some days working with M’mère when his parents are on shifts. We go to pick up the two younger boys from daycare at 4:30, then I take them to their own home for supper and bath and bed.

Changes! I spent over a year living here alone with Bud and Grump, then just Grump. Slowly but surely the house is filling up again, and that thought makes me SMILE.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

A FRIEND

Suzie has been here for the past week. My kids love it when she comes up from Michigan – she gets me out of the house, they say, and they’re right. This afternoon we attended the area’s annual German summer party. It’s held on a beautiful site deep in the bush, at a club they built with the help of Suzie’s father many years ago.

We were enjoying the scenery, the food, the chatting, and the live music. The one-man band fellow was well set up, and he had a nice voice. He had been playing for an hour or so when he knocked me for a loop. I heard the opening bars of the tune and I froze. It was Kris Kristofferson’s ‘Sunday Morning Coming Down’. That was Bird’s favorite song; the one he chose for his funeral, and I hadn’t heard it since. I didn’t want to hear it now. Everything inside of me just kind of shut down.

I treat grief as a private thing. I know that holding it in is not good, but damnit, I was surrounded by people who were partying and this was not the place for tears. They came anyway.

I didn’t realize that I was holding my breath until I felt her take my hand. She had been on the other end of the table, but now Suzie was beside me, holding tight. She remembered the tune too, and knew what I was feeling.

“Bird must have wanted to hear his song,” she said in my ear. “Let’s listen to it with him.”

I guess I nodded – I know I hung onto her until it was over. If anyone else noticed, they pretended not to. My mood had changed. A short time later those riding with me piled into my truck for their lifts home, Suzie included.

The phone rang an hour after I got to my house.

“You okay??” she asked.

“I will be,” I answered.

“I know,” she said.

And she does.

I realized again what a precious friend she is, and I SMILED.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

FIRST LOVE

My grandson and his love - so cute!!


“So you’re going to have a new tenant?” My daughter smiled as she handed me a cup of coffee.

“Am I? Who? And when?” I inquired. It was no surprise that I was being told instead of asked. My offspring has been doing this to me since they were teenagers... with my blessing, I must add. More than one kid has spent a few nights in my spare room or on my couch for one reason or another. It was safer trying to fix problems from there than out in the street.

Names were shifting for position in my head. It couldn’t be my daughter herself; she had rented a beautiful apartment not long ago and I knew she loved both the place and the neighborhood.

There was my granddaughter – during her summer vacation she was working nights in the town closest to me. Her dad had moved into the city, and it was at least a 40 minute drive to her mom’s. I had offered my room upstairs at the time, but she had opted to stay either at her boyfriend’s place or up at her Dad’s cottage, both within easy hailing distance of her job.

My sons seemed quite happy in their relationships at the moment, so....

“Are you going to tell me now, or do I find out when they show up at the door?” I grinned at her. She was laughing when she answered me...

“Fred’s girlfriend came to supper last night. She told me she was moving in with Fred when he gets back from Alberta next week.”

Surprised? A little.

Since Fred had rented the apartment downstairs, I had only heard him mention one girl. It was obvious that he was smitten, but for the first year she never came around the house, and I suspected it was pretty much one-sided. Then last May, while home from Alberta for his 10 day break, I hardly saw the lad. He would come in and pick up some clean clothes, then be away again. When questioned, he told me he was staying at Marie’s place.

Ah – First Love! I smiled as I watched my oldest grandson swim blindly in the throes of it. He was totally oblivious to anything else. I don’t think he took out the garbage once the whole 10 days, nor do any other of the tasks expected of him. He showed up with only minutes to spare before his flight back to work out west. My daughter, who was here waiting to drive him to the airport, was not at all pleased.

“You don’t remember your First Love?” I laughed. “It’s the most exhilarating feeling in the world, but you become a zombie.”

“Okay,” she grumbled. “He’s had his 10 days of zombie-ness – now it’s back to real life.”

I guess she talked to him – we never discussed it, but I have noticed a change in his behaviour since his arrival last week. He’s back to being our Fred. His apartment is tidier, he’s in every night, and yesterday he spent a good 3 hours cutting my grass without being asked. I know his girlfriend is here too, although I’ve only glimpsed her coming and going. Then again, I’m still helping with the rug rats, and Suzie is here from Detroit, so I am in and out often myself; we kind of wave to each other in passing, LOL.

“Is Marie staying here when Fred goes back to Alberta next Tuesday?” My daughter answered my question with “I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her?” Of course!

But I don’t think I need to question – when I stopped at the mailbox yesterday, I found among others an envelope addressed to our little Marie, at this address obviously. It looks like I do have a new tenant.

And the thought makes me SMILE. Sending you all your share, folks!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

SMOOCH AND 'BACK'

I take time each day to work with Smooch, who is now 6 months old. Because of the other dogs running around outside, most of the training is done in the house where he can focus. One activity that he enjoys is when I roll a ball to the end of the hall and tell him to ‘Fetch!’ He learned pretty quickly that obeying my command to “Bring it back” merits a yummy treat and high praise.

The first thing I do when we go out for our walks is hurl a ball down the hill. Smooch looks forward to the chase. Sometimes I don’t ask him to fetch right away, instead leaving him to play for a bit before we begin to train. He’ll pick it up and throw it further down the hill himself, running after it, doing it again and again. When the training does start, he may or may not return to me immediately. His response, especially with Grump as a distraction, is rather erratic. He is getting better though, yet the other day his obedience was the last thing I wanted!

I had thrown the ball onto the lower lawn, and away went Smooch, ears flapping in the wind. “Fetch!” I called to him. He was halfway down the hill when something on the ground caught his attention. He abruptly stopped, whipped around, and with his nose to the ground, went off to the side.

“Smooch!” I yelled. “The ball! Bring it back!” The darned pup didn’t even look at me. I saw see him pick something up and shake it.

“Not another poor little chipmunk!” I was thinking as I hurried toward him. Whatever is was escaped for a second, but man - that dog is fast!! It looked like he was spitting out grass before he pounced again, and I knew the victim was once more in his jaws. I kept repeating loudly for him to “bring it back”, attempting to remind him that he was supposed to be listening. He looked up at me, saw that I was getting closer, and decided that he would do as he was told. Only then was I able to see what he was carrying, and OH MY GOD!!

I froze! “No-no-no!” I yelled in panic. “NO!! Get back – Smooch, get BACK!!!” Understanding only the word ‘back’, and no doubt expecting a treat, Smooch kept trotting toward me...and I still don’t know how I was able to stay upright on my suddenly shaky legs, for dangling from his mouth was a writhing SNAKE!!!

Somehow, in my haze of terror, I realized that “Back” was not a word I should be using unless I wanted that thing dropped at my feet. I believe I started screaming ‘PUCK OFF WITH THAT, SMOOCH!! GET AWAY!”, but I wouldn’t swear it. Maybe I was just thinking it, because I was beginning to hyperventilate. I’m not sure I even got a word out. I certainly didn’t want him near me...and I feared that within seconds I’d be crumpled on the ground, a weak mass of shudders and shivers. I don’t know whether it was the confusion caused by my contradictory commands, or if that thing just managed to wiggle free – but Smooch lost it. He was spitting over and over. Being the hard headed pit, he continued trying to pick it up again. Unsuccessfully, thank the Lord!

I don’t know how long I stood there, gasping and trying to calm my nerves. My legs felt like jelly – but there was no way I was going to even kneel with that reptile still crawling around out there somewhere! Grump came over and nosed my hand, wondering what the fuss was about, but Smooch, after having pawed under the rocks for awhile, realized that his prey had escaped, so happily retrieved and continued to play with his ball. Needless to say, it was the end of training for that outing.

I live in the bush, and am aware there are creepy, crawly things here. This is the first time I have actually seen one on my land. I expect the dogs moving ahead of me make them scurry to hide, letting me enjoy my walk, pretending that they do not exist; out of sight, out of mind sort of thing. Smooch spoiled my illusion. He must have wondered why I was shunning him the rest of the day. UGH!

Yes, well, things happen for a reason. I have dreamed about snakes on occasion, and I would awake sweating, terrified to even put a foot on the floor beside the bed. It would take a light and much self-talk until I could come to my senses. I can’t explain why, when a snake showed up in my dream that night, I was quite calm, even when I recalled it the next morning. I stand in awe – I can actually think about one and not shudder. Could it be that Smooch inadvertently cured my phobia?

Maybe. We’ll see with time. I’m sure not going hunting for one to confirm either way. I’m also avoiding that patch beneath the rocks where all this happened. I watch very carefully when Smooch goes running, his ears alert, if it’s not in the direction of a ball. I’m sure any neighbor who sees me is wondering about my sanity and why, in all this heat, I am wearing rubber boots instead of sandals.

I’m sure you can picture it – and I expect it will make you SMILE. That’s okay – I’m laughing about it now too, so can SMILE right along with you.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.