(no subject)
I am in Saltcoats, Saskatchewan. If you don't know where that is, can't say that I blame you, but getcherself a map and check. Find Saskatoon, go SE, find Yorkton, go a bit further SE, find Saltcoats. My Mom grew up on a farm near here. Both my grandparents grew up on farms near here. My great-great grandparents homesteaded the farm my uncle still farms, which is the farm where both my Mom and my Grandpa grew up. I know that farm and this town and my grandma's house so well that even when they change I can still find the coffee mugs.
I'm staying with my Grandma. Wake up early, have breakfast either in the kitchen or on the deck, depending on how hot the morning is. Watch birds over the lake, water the flowers, watch neighbours go by and comment on what they're doing. Life in a small town is all about knowing who's doing what when where. We don't lock the doors, and everyone waves, and when I walk into Thorsness Hardware they ask me who I am. This is both the beauty and the utter horror of a small town! I like visiting here, but I could not live here.
This morning I helped my aunt and uncle strip old wallpaper from the house they're renovating. This afternoon I'm sewing my edding-way ess-dray and then picking raspberries for supper.
Working on my prairie cadences, picking up on my Grandma's expressions and regaining my own use of them, realizing that I still know when a field of wheat looks good and that I still watch the weather like a proper prairie child. I still know what a red-winged blackbird sounds like, and I still love the smell of sweetpeas.
This all sounds very fanciful, doesn't it? I couldn't live here, as I've said, but it's really good to reconnect to this part of myself. I needed this break, and not just as recovery from the previous break in the Pdot Sdot.
I need to come visit here more often.
I'm staying with my Grandma. Wake up early, have breakfast either in the kitchen or on the deck, depending on how hot the morning is. Watch birds over the lake, water the flowers, watch neighbours go by and comment on what they're doing. Life in a small town is all about knowing who's doing what when where. We don't lock the doors, and everyone waves, and when I walk into Thorsness Hardware they ask me who I am. This is both the beauty and the utter horror of a small town! I like visiting here, but I could not live here.
This morning I helped my aunt and uncle strip old wallpaper from the house they're renovating. This afternoon I'm sewing my edding-way ess-dray and then picking raspberries for supper.
Working on my prairie cadences, picking up on my Grandma's expressions and regaining my own use of them, realizing that I still know when a field of wheat looks good and that I still watch the weather like a proper prairie child. I still know what a red-winged blackbird sounds like, and I still love the smell of sweetpeas.
This all sounds very fanciful, doesn't it? I couldn't live here, as I've said, but it's really good to reconnect to this part of myself. I needed this break, and not just as recovery from the previous break in the Pdot Sdot.
I need to come visit here more often.