S L O W L Y

Grump...not a happy doggie

Finally! The laptop is returned to its box and ‘for emergency only’ status, and there is a decent, new-used desk top computer flexing its muscles in my home office. The turbulent weather is screwing up the satellite, and keeping the machine from showing its full potential, but I have full confidence that we shall get along just fine! AND it has speakers now too – so let the music play!! And let this lady remember to do backups…just in case.

Today, at 5:00 PM, the bank deposited the money in my account. I will take the necessary steps tomorrow to transfer it to my Company, and it will be with great pleasure that I distribute delayed pay cheques to the employees…. myself included! A couple of my clients also showed up at the office and paid their invoices, so things are looking up!

More good news – Grump is beginning to eat again. I’ve been practically force feeding him since Bud’s passing; he was that depressed. The long walks at night help too, I’m sure….and the extra cuddles.

You see, Grump was more my friend’s dog than mine. He was already having some difficulty in accepting the disappearance of his master; he seemed to be still looking for him with every car that drove nearby. It’s no wonder that the second loss knocked him for a loop, poor thing. We’ve had to console each other now, and I think he has come to realize that I need him as much as he needs me. We have grown much closer in the past 2 weeks and, because Bud is not there to steal the show, I am beginning to discover qualities in this younger pit that I had never noticed…or maybe I was just not paying so much attention. Bud filled such a huge chunk of my heart, and Grump was forever the obedient follower. I have begun to appreciate his solid but unassuming character and his sense of play. As Pat_B commented, we are s l o w l y getting back to normal.

It looks like my Demons have returned – snow is falling and falling and I’m delighted! If we are going to have winter, let it be a real winter!! It was beautiful walking outside last night. I couldn’t resist pulling out my toboggan and going for a scoot down my driveway hill. Grump got a little excited in his chasing, and we ended up head-over-tea-kettle when we reached the bottom, LOL! I won’t dare mention it to my kids, but both of us were limping slightly as we gasped our way back up to the house. Nothing the Jacuzzi couldn’t fix for me, and Grump was no worse for wear within the hour, so all is well.

We are entering tax season, and hopefully it will be so busy that I’ll be complaining by the end of April. I intend to do my best to write at least a short post each day, no matter how many hours I work, but we all know how that can turn out! I do promise (and this especially for Karen) that I’ll do my best to come in and make a little noise, no matter what my mood. At least now that my windows are safe. My laptop came SOOO close to being hurled through them on more than one occasion!

Wishing you all sweet dreams, folks, and hoping the huge SMILE I am cyber-spacing out to you will help them along!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

THE BUD SAGA - PART 19

Beautiful! As much as snow is an inconvenience for many, when one is standing at my window this morning looking out at my mountain, the demons can be forgiven. The scene is awesome. Of course, it would be even more so is one could stay inside and admire it all day…which is not the case. It’s out to brave the traffic we go, some of us having to shovel and clean the car before attempting to ram through the banks the plough left right in the driveway entrance. The joys of winter are slightly tempered by the extra effort needed to get to where we need to be, LOL! Gotta love Canadian winters!!

We have finally had a breakthrough in the Healthcare market. Yesterday we scheduled the first of our nurses. Because much care is used when screening our candidates, the inevitable result is that their work is appreciated, and that means being called back, which is exactly what happened. We received 5 more requests before the end of the day. The ball is rolling.

I need to be on my way, so here is the next chapter in the Bud Saga.

YOU WANT ME TO BABY-SIT WHAT??? – Leader of the Pack

I can’t even describe how I felt exactly. Many emotions went jet-streaming through my body. Astonishment? For a heartbeat. Fear? Certainly. But the predominant wave that washed over me was insult, immediately replaced by anger. An overwhelming, white, cold, very still, very dangerous type of anger. How DARE he?!!! Then I lost it.

It started out softly “You little SHIT!!” but the last word came out a high pitched roar! I’m sure he was as surprised as I was when I attacked him And I do mean attack!

It happened so fast….one moment I was standing there, the next I was on him, the ‘Budwacker’ swinging into his face. He snarled and lashed out at it, catching it in his powerful jaws, but he’d reacted too late. My other hand was already wrapped around his choker collar, and I pulled up hard! With strength I didn’t even know I possessed, I lifted him so high that his feet were off the floor. I was still smacking him wildly about the head with the torn residue of newspaper, each slap accompanied by a screeched ‘How DARE you?!’ He turned and twisted, struggling to get his head back around, trying to escape, until the snarling gave way to gasps for air. I kept him up and away from me, then half-carried, half-dragged him to the patio door. In spite of his choking, he fought me every step of the way. Hauling him off the floor again, I violently shoved the sliding door open and threw him outside, landing him a swift kick on the butt to help him along. I was wearing those dollar-store slippers, so the action hurt me more than it did him, and I was limping when I went to sit down on the couch after slamming the door closed. I was swearing loudly, shouting through the glass at him, releasing all the pent-up frustration of having endured his attitude for those many weeks. The labs, totally awed by such a scene, cowered as if to sink out of sight.

Shaking from both anger and the exertion, I stood up, limped around the room, sat down, over and over again, constantly giving him a piece of my mind. He stayed sitting outside the door, watching me, the rain pouring down on him, thunder and lightning playing out behind him. And he was going to stay there. No way was he coming back in the house!

It took me at least two hours to control my emotions. The pit had not moved, and I could see he was trembling. His short fur was poor protection against the cold, wet rain, and I suspected that the force of the storm, and it was a bad one, was scaring him, but I didn’t care. Like a petulant child, I sat on his couch, knowing that he could see me there. Every now and then I would look out at him and give him the finger….the universal ‘bird’ sign….and taunt him that he wasn’t so smart now, huh? And a few other choice phrases that I won’t put into print. I made a point of caressing the labs and telling them they were good dogs, knowing that Bud was still watching. All very churlish, I know, and if anyone could have seen my antics, shadowy in the candlelight, they may have found it somewhat disturbing.

I finally relented when he started to whine, then began those short, single yelps he had used in the cage. I made him wait a little longer, letting him watch as I rolled up ‘Budwacker the Third’. I had it in my hand when I slid the door open, and motioned him inside. He entered slowly, his head down, and his tail between his legs….nearly. Keeping me in view, he trotted over to the couch, but didn’t jump up. Instead, he turned to look at me, waiting. Whoa, what’s this? He’s asking permission?

He was soaking wet, but I had a point to prove, both to Bud and to myself. “Get up there and lie down. Now!” He obeyed immediately, and lay there quietly for the rest of the evening, licking the water from his fur, glancing at me warily every time I moved. I ignored him, determined that he know I was serious. There could only be one master in this house.

I was exhausted when I crawled into bed, and expected to fall to sleep immediately. Instead, memories came unbidden to keep me awake. I was a child on the farm, and had received a ‘lickin’ from my grandmother for something I had done. Each time that it happened (all of them well-deserved….I was a brat), my grandmother would come to my bedroom when the house was quiet. She would sit beside me and explain why the punishment had been meted, then hug me and assure me that she still loved me, that now we had turned the page, that everything was okay.

I don’t believe in coincidence – there was a reason for suddenly remembering this particular scene. I reluctantly got out of bed and went downstairs. I could hardly see in the dark, but knew Bud was watching my approach. I walked over to the couch and sat beside him, then reached casually out to fondle his ears. I talked to him softly, repeating the same words I had been told so many years ago, all the time stroking him gently. He sighed audibly, then lowered his head, his nose touching my knee. I leaned back into the sofa cushions. This was good.

For the first time, there was no revenge pooh on the floor the next morning. I awoke, stiff from having fallen to sleep half sitting, half-lying, on the couch. Bud was curled up beside me, his head warm on my hip. When I moved, he looked up at me and yawned. I had to smile; his expression reminded me so much of a groggy child.

In a perfect world, Bud and I would now be insta-friends, there would be no more contest between us, and no further use for the ‘Budwacker’. But Bud was his own dog, and although both our attitudes had changed enough to make a lot of progress, it didn’t happen overnight. It took a lot of work. The website had said obedience training was a “must” for pits, and it was true. However, I could tell that I was no longer just the babysitter….there was an element of respect there now. Although he would never be as obedient and as compliant as the labs, he at least paid attention and, most of the time, would go along with what I wanted. Happily, the revenge poohs became a thing of the past.

On my part, I began to see his qualities, which far outnumbered his faults. When I started to show him love, he returned it with everything in his huge heart. The night after our episode, at my request, he came to join the labs and myself by the fire. He stood leaning against me with all his weight as I scratched behind his ears, then offered me his thanks with a lick on the hand. Then, being Bud, he forced his way in closer, pushing Beef aside. He had to be nearer to me than the other dogs….the prime spot would now be his.

From that night on, he would greet my arrival by grabbing a mat (any mat!) and shaking it, while prancing around like a trotter. It was his way of saying he was happy to see me. When we took our walks, he would follow along with us for a little while, then return to doing his own thing, chasing stones up and down the hill, keeping an eye on our whereabouts so that he could join us when he felt like it.

Since the ‘intruder’ event (who, by the way, never dared come back!), Bud had not shown aggressive behaviour to anyone else. He didn’t have to. Most people, whether they knew him or not, would stay in the car and honk the horn for me to come outside before opening the car door. Just the sight of him, with that dead stare, was imposing enough. However, once visitors met him, they would admire his tenacity, and be amused by his antics with the stones and his energetic play. Because I was not going out in the city hardly at all anymore, friends and family would often come to spend the weekend – what’s better than escaping to the country during the balmy summer days? Many evenings were spent outside around a campfire, and the dogs enjoyed it as much as we humans did.

The months went by. My friend would call whenever he got the chance, and I would update him on his beloved dogs, and the developing closeness with his mother, Helen. He still did not have a definite date for his arrival, so was comforted to hear that I had settled in, things were going well, and that Bud and I were finally friends. There were subtle insinuations of ‘I told you so’ in his comments, although he never dared to come right out and say it.

The crisp fall weather had arrived, and we were back to me rocking in front of the fire, this time surrounded by three dogs instead of just two. Bud had forsaken his couch, preferring instead to sit leaning against me or with his head heavy on my feet. Some nights I would turn up the CD of Ozzy or AC/DC, and the four of us would dance around the room. The dogs loved it! I rarely watched television, but when I did, Bud would stretch out on the couch with me, with Ben on the floor right under us, and the comical Beef sitting his butt on the edge of the sofa, much as a person would do. It was a warm and peaceful existence. We were a family now, and each of us flourished within it.

It was the third month of winter when my friend phoned to say he was coming back. He would arrive in four days, and asked me if I could pick him up at the station.

“Of course! This is great! I’ll be there!” I hung up and turned to the dogs. “Your master’s coming home! Hey, guys, he’s coming home!” They caught the excitement in my voice and started to jump around me, tails wagging. Bud grabbed up a mat and shook it wildly. It was celebration time. Or was it? My friend’s arrival would mean my moving back to the city.

I sat down as realization hit me hard. I had come to regard this place as my home. I felt as if the trees, the rolling mountain, even the muddy garden were part of me now. And the dogs….

My heart caught in my throat. The thought of leaving them was almost too much to bear. I looked at them - Big Beef, the way he thanked me after eating by rubbing his huge head against me like a cat, his amusing position when he’d sit his butt on the couch, and his barking and hopping up and down, front legs stiff, as he encouraged Ben to find the stick in games of ‘Fetch’. Then Ben, the most obedient and intelligent dog I have ever known – he who should have worked with the police, because he was so quick to grasp what was wanted, and could find anything – he who noticed and would bark at anything new, be it a person, or an object moved from it’s usual place in the yard to another location. And Bud – especially Bud. As much as I had hated him, I now loved him dearly. Not coming home to him each night was unthinkable.

Sensing that something was not right, the labs came to me, shoving their heads under my hands, offering their comfort. Noticing their actions, Bud dropped his mat, pranced over to us, and rammed his head under my arm, clamouring for attention. I tried to hug them all to me at the same time, burying my face in the fur of first one, then the other. It didn’t dry my tears, nor change the facts. This was not my home, and we would no longer be a family. We had four days, then I would be leaving. It was breaking my heart.

I took a deep breath. Okay – unpleasant – bite the bullet. I needed to prepare for my friend’s arrival, and for my departure, both physically (it was unbelievable how much stuff one can gather in few months….there’d be a lot of packing to do) and even more so, emotionally. I hugged the dogs to me again. This is not going to be easy

But fickle Lady Fate was at it again, and even as I struggled to stabilize my emotions, events were taking place that would send them hurtling through the roof.

(To be cont’d)

Yep, there’s more, but we’re nearing the end of this story. Looks like I’ll have to hunt around for something else to write about, LOL.

Have a good day, folks. Whether you like the snow or not, try not to think of its inconvenience. Instead, take the time to look around and admire at least its beauty; it will surely make you SMILE.

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

THE BUD SAGA - PART 16

I was right – the wood was 30$/cord MORE expensive than in the spring. Fortunately, I only need 3 cords to finish the winter. Even more fortunate is that the farmer who sold it to me was a gem – he and his wife came to deliver, exactly on time, and the wood is much better and the cut is varied; small starter pieces, burning pieces, and all-nighters for stoking. He is making me a good deal for the 20 cords I’ll buy at the beginning of spring too. Everything happens for a reason – if I had not run out before the end of winter, I’d have ordered from the former dude who sells for more per cord, with poorer quality.

I also got another little surprise, not so pleasant. My water pipes in the apartment downstairs sprung a leak. That had to be fixed immediately, no matter the cost, so Leo is here today with pieces and he & Heinz will attempt to do the job. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the bill won’t be too high. So the pay cheque was received on Thursday, and I just waved ‘bye-bye’ as it flew right by me. Ah, well – you can’t win ‘em all.

I have some groceries to pick up, and want to stop in to see how my brother is doing, so am leaving you with the next chapter of my Bud Saga.

YOU WANT ME TO BABY-SIT WHAT??? - A new beginning.

I stared at the empty cage. It stood there, a blatant accusation, its emptiness the result of my incompetence. During the frantic drive to the bush, I’d rejected the nagging fear that I was too late. There was no denying it now.

Slowly I walked over and sank down onto the couch….Bud’s couch….the guilt overwhelming. My face was buried in my hands, and I think I was mumbling “I’m sorry” for the third time when I heard a noise. I looked up. I waited, holding my breath. Silence. Was my desperate mind playing tricks on me?

“Woof!” That sounded like Beef’s “Let-me-in, please” bark! I jumped off the couch and went quickly to the patio doors. Nothing. But I was sure I had heard…..

”Woof!” It came from behind me. I swung around. Of course! Helen always shut them in the basement. I ran to open that door, and the labs came swirling around me, their greeting more exuberant than usual. I knelt and hugged them gratefully, at the same time trying to peer past them to see below. I knew it even before my eyes confirmed it. The pit wasn’t there.

Not sure how long they had been shut in, I slid open the patio door, and both labs hurried outside. The phone rang. It was my son.

“For someone who promised to be careful, I see you got there in record time.” Then without the sarcasm, “I finally reached them on the cell phone. They’re on the way back from the vet’s now. They should be at the house in another fifteen minutes.”

I closed my eyes, swallowing hard. So it was over.

My son’s voice was worried when he spoke again. “You gonna be okay, mom? You sure you want to stay there?”

I took a deep breath. “Yeh, I guess….” I swallowed again. I had to ring off before he could notice my state. “Look, I need to check on the labs.” His reluctance was evident, but he told me to call if anything, then hung up.

Fifteen minutes, my son had said. Panic again. Before facing them, I needed some alone time. I grabbed the flashlight, opened the door and hurried out to join the labs. Beef and Ben would show no censure for the outcome of my selfish, scatterbrained actions, but would welcome my company, and that was exactly what I needed right then.

The light snow danced in the torch beam as we traced our regular path through the trees. If only we could turn off pain like we do a light, I grieved. And my misery is nowhere near to what my friend will feel when he hears what’s happened to his favourite dog. His ‘baby’.

My eyes were tearing, and after I stumbled the second time, I turned back. We stopped at the top of the hill, the one where the pit spent hours romping with his pieces of ice. As we stood there in silence, headlights swept through the trees above us. Helen and my comrade were back.

I stored the flashlight in my coat pocket, then sat down on the edge, my legs stretched straight out in front. “This one’s for you, little Sh*t,” I murmured, and shoved off with my hands. Down I flew on the seat of my pants, the tears flowing freely now, their path warm on my cold cheeks. I could hear the labs barking and ploughing their way down with me, and we all ended up in a heap at the bottom. I lay there for a moment, then pushed them away so that I could rise, trying to pull the light from my pocket. I had it in my hand, and had just managed to get to my feet when, WHAM! One of dogs hit the back of my knees so solidly that I rolled, head-over-teakettle, the flashlight flying into the great black yonder.

“Hey!” I yelled, and was not quite standing when BANG! Down I went again. I was covered in snow, and totally confused. I had never known the labs to play this rough! On my hands and knees, I lifted my head to look around carefully. That didn’t do much good…it was so dark, but I spotted something…I sensed the motion, and had already ducked before it nailed me. The hit wasn’t square on, so I was able to keep my balance.

“HEY!” I yelled again, scrambling to my feet. I heard laughing. I recognized my comrade’s voice. The flashlight beam came on, shining right into my eyes. I put my arm up as a shield, and, after a couple of seconds, he lowered it. He was still laughing as he asked, “You seem to be in one piece. Are you okay?”

“Besides feeling like a snowman, you mean?” I asked tightly. “And what was that all about? Why’d you knock me down?”

“Not guilty!” he said, still chuckling. “I guess the pit was giving you pay-back for his cage time. Plays pretty hard, doesn’t the little bugger? He heard the barking and came out of the car like a bullet, then disappeared over here. Next thing I know I see the flashlight go flying…with you right behind it!”

My heart leapt as I struggled to understand. Had I heard him right? “The pit? Bud, you mean?”

“Of course, Bud. Why?” When I didn’t answer, he directed the light onto my face again. I guess my eyes told him what I was feeling.

“Oh damn!” he swore softly.” When your son called, I should have told him Bud was with us. Without the cone, he had chewed all the bandage off his paw. We couldn’t get an appointment until late and even then we waited for a good while…” He stopped, then came to put his arm around my shoulders. Once again, the lump in my throat was keeping me silent. “Hey, sorry. You were thinking that we’d had him put down, weren’t you? I can imagine how upset you’ve been.” He tugged on me gently. “Let’s go in and get you warmed up.”

Later, sitting around the fire and sipping hot chocolate, the three of us planned how to improve the situation. Helen was happy I was staying on, more for her son’s sake than anything else, of course, but she insisted on her willingness to help however she could. It was decided that she would stop by and let the dogs out for a bit each day while I was at work. I would make arrangements with the office for shorter hours, so the dogs would get exercise in the evenings too. A tired pit is a happy pit. Adamant about no longer using the hateful cage, I asked my comrade to dismantle and take it with him.

Remembering the dog-lover lady’s suggestion, I rolled a newspaper up tightly, waited for Bud to make a move on one of the labs, then said his name, simultaneously striking the paper smartly on the table. It worked! Startled, he stopped, then slunk back to the couch, watching me from the corner of his eye. We toasted that small success, affectionately dubbing the flimsy discipline tool the “Budwhacker”.

When they left (the cage with them), I sat in the rocker, the labs by my feet, and the pit sleeping on the couch. I studied him, reflecting on the tumultuous events I had lived since Helen’s first call for help. I wasn’t kidding myself….the pit’s behaviour had not changed…but maybe with my new attitude, Helen’s help, and the ‘Budwhacker,’ we would have an easier time of it. I got up to prepare for bed. Bud, ever alert, lifted his head. Remembering my promise, I slowly put my hand out, let him sniff at it first, then rubbed the back of his neck just behind his newly installed cone. A similar touch would get an immediate tail-wag from the labs, but not the pit. He was still, then lowered his head between his paws when I removed my hand. A buzzing fly would get more reaction!

The next few weeks were relatively quiet, compared to what I’d already been through. The cone around Bud’s neck kept him from chewing anything, and he couldn’t really make his teasing of the labs count, although that didn’t stop him from trying. Helen letting them out to run around each day helped drain some of his excessive energy. The ‘Budwhacker’ was doing its job. Every time I needed to wield it to make him listen, he would cringe and move back to the couch. One night I forgot it on the rocker when I went to bed. The next morning, little pieces of newspaper covered the floor. Bud, his expression inscrutable, sat on the couch, his head high. He had destroyed his enemy. Smiling at his innocence, I picked up the Gazette and fashioned a successor, then slapped it down on the table to test it (well, okay…I admit I wanted to show the pit he had lost this round). Bud immediately lay down, his head between his paws, and his eyes averted.

Ah….victory was sweet! But short-lived.

(To be cont’d)

The sun is shining out there today, but if the Weather Network is right, we’re in for lots of snow this coming week. The Demons are back! Contrary to some, I like the little fellows, as long as they leave by the end of March. In the meantime, Canadian winters offer spectacular scenery out here in the bush. I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else.

Have a nice weekend, friends. Mine hast been costly so far, but SMILES are free, so I’ll send you as many as you want!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec

ALL ABOUT NOTHING

This whole month feels like tax-time. I seem to be running when I hit the floor in the morning, my brain still pedaling when I finally get to bed at night. It’s a never ending game of ‘catching-up’. Granted, winter is busier on the home front. There’s wood to bring in, ashes to take out, more cleaning with the doggies tracking in muck, etc., etc. One also has to consider the hours lost by sitting in traffic on the journey back & forth to the office. Then again, there are the three new companies, which means more employees, which, in turn, brings more action. Mind you, I’m not complaining. We see enough people each day desperate for a job, and I realize how lucky I am to be working. Probably much of it has to do with age. I used to be able to handle full days, then go out and dance my tail off in the evening. Not anymore. My idea of a good time now is sitting by the fire, glass of wine in hand, doggies at my feet – or stretching out in the Jacuzzi. .LOL! My mom would never have believed it!

The Dunany Demons sprinkled a few snowflakes last night on the drive home. It reminded me that it is time for snow-tires. I usually have them installed by October 15th each year. No-one living in my area would try getting through the winter with four-season tires, and that BEFORE the new law made the change an obligation! I hear my friend, Kilroy, is still roaming around on his bicycle. How do you winterize that mode of transportation? LOL.

My son, Jo, is back from hunting empty-handed. His lady, May, is at home on maternity leave now. Bow will be leaving for Florida in a couple of weeks for a golf holiday. Yoshiko is saving her vacation time for her next visit to Japan, so won’t be going with him. And my daughter, Shan, will be heading down to Mexico with some friends in early December. She turns 40 this year, and both her and her best friend, who is the same age, are planning to celebrate their big 4-0’s in the sun together.

I’m going to post this just to let you know we’re still all alive. Other than that, I would scrap it, because reading it over, I find it extremely boring! I had nothing to say, and said that quite well, didn’t I? LOL.

On the road again…off to the city. Take care, everyone – practice your SMILES, and enjoy the frisky weather!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.

A WEEK LATER....

My nice computer doc finally showed up yesterday morning (early!), waded through the mud outside, then spent 2 hours working on my machine and voilà! I nearly kissed him as I paid him – I was that happy. The borrowed laptop I’ve been using to feed my cyber-addiction is one we purchased for training. Unless it is hooked up to the central server at the office, it is extremely limited in what it can do. The keyboard is much smaller too; my fingers seemed way too large, and there was constant backspacing to delete surplus letters which just appeared out of nowhere. This morning I breathe a sigh of relief…I’m back in my element.

It was a crazy, hectic week. I would crawl into bed late at night, numbers running through my head, then be up at 4:30 AM and they were still there. One thing I did do last Saturday (it has been that long since I last blogged in here!!) was put everything on hold, and read my book, Roots. Thanks to all those whose advice leaned that way, lol. Actually, the book being thick, I spent a lot of Sunday doing the same thing. Then, of course, I paid for it by playing catch-up in the days that followed.

Two of the stagiares said their goodbyes on Friday. They are heading back to their studies after practicing in the real world. One of them, a nice little lady from Peru, gave me a pretty souvenir ashtray, made in her country, as a farewell gift. The other, a tall, graceful lady from Haiti, offered something completely different.

During a lunchroom conversation, a discussion about the trials of life had prompted me to mention an admired Blogit writer, Muley, who wrote that our enemies could actually be close friends from our previous lives, sent here to help us learn a needed lesson. There were mixed reactions; sceptic from a couple, thoughtful from others, and agreement from my Japanese daughter-in-law. I noticed the tightening of lips and slight shake of head from the Haitian stagiare, she who always bowed her head and said silent grace before eating. She was too shy to argue in words, but her expression left no doubt about her refuting such beliefs. I suspected that she was very adamant in her religion, whatever it was, and she proved it by handing me two printed tracts as she was saying goodbye. The cover page on one shows a clear picture of hell, complete with fire and brimstone; the other has lights streaming down from what is obviously heaven. I thanked her politely, assured her that, yes, I do read the bible, and wondered if I should try to convince her that spiritualism does NOT mean denial of God’s existence. I imagine I’d have wasted my breath. Her stance was telling me that only her religion saved souls. She meant well, so I accepted her gesture. To each our own. I couldn’t help laughing though when, at the end of the day, Yoshiko (my daughter-in-law) stood by my desk, glanced down at the pictures, then politely asked me, “So which one are you, Mom? The devil or the angel?” Then with a small smile, “I guess it depends on the day, huh?” I just love that girl!!

It’s Saturday, the sun is shining out there on my mountain, and I’m off to enjoy it while it lasts. My Dunany Demons whispered that there’ll be snow next Friday…already. Time flies whether we’re having fun or not, so sending you a big, warm smile and sincere wishes that y’all have a super day!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec.