Big Dog + Small Yard+ Winter = You just don't want to know!

Winter in Edmonton lasts approximately 12 months...okay...maybe 7 months...So the reasoning that follows like this makes a lot of sense. "We'll leave the dog s**t until winter is over" I mean who wants to go out when it is 40 below and pick up dog crap. Espescially when you can spend the first warm days of spring (sometime in July!) raking up a winters worth. She is a large dog and it is a small yard...basically every square inch is covered...in one way or another with s*

Lancelot "Capability" Brown was born in Kirkharle, Northumberland in 1715 (more about his nickname "Capability" in a moment). Young Lancelot was educated at Cambo School, before serving as a gardener's boy in the service of Sir William Loraine. From there he moved on to Wotton, owned by Sir Richard Grenville. He became England's most famous gardener. Basically he was the guy who convinced rich English people to change their gardens from tight formal Versailles type gardens, into wild and infomal...rambling gardens.

Lancelot Brown soon acquired the peculiar nickname "Capability" from his habit of telling clients that their gardens had "great capabilities". In his talented hands, they certainly did.
Brown has been criticized, with some justification, for destroying the works of previous generations of gardeners to create his landscapes. He worked with a grand vision, and preferred to sweep away the past and create a fresh garden to his own standards.

What does that have to do with the winter and the dog? Well the way I see it...the yard, our yard had great capabilities... and it is kind of wild...not too wild....just kind of wild. It will take some work...but I think I can wrestle the garden from the grip of the big black dog...maybe even teach her to do her business in one spot...so that we can put in multiple flower beds and trim the grass....(not too trimmed...just a little trimmed). St. Jude pray for us!

Last week...was spent in Toronto...well not exactly in Toronto...somewhere on the outskirts... near Markham, Richmond Hill... It is one of the ironies of my job that the time we spend in Toronto I could be in any light industrial area in Canada...and the week is so jam packed that there is little time to see what everyone is talking about...when they talk about Toronto.

However...this summer Tage and I will go with a team from our church to work with youth in three inner city churches there. It will be fun...I am a chaperone...a chaperone...what a crazy mid-victorian word. I am excited...I think we will have a great time. I am a chaperone...yikes! I am sure we will see more of TO than I have on my previous trips. God said to Jonah, "Shall I not be concerned for this great city?"

During my last trip there it was great to connect with some great people. A very memorable sushi night. The cool thing about this job is you get to know people from all over North America...it is definately a perk! The conversation went on and on...and there was depth and insight as well as some great laughs.

Then there was an unbelievable encounter with Thai Food. It's not that the Thai food was great...it was just...um...unusual. The adventurers with me wanted to order something different, so we ordered "Pompano with Papaya Sauce". We did not know what a Pompano was, but we were quite sure that if there was enough Papaya Sauce, we could handle anything!

It turns out that Pompanos are...big round, flat fish...and they are served whole, with heads and tails and we are pretty sure, entrails! We ate it. It turns out they look a lot better in the ocean than on a plate. It turns out that they are...those shiny fish that show up in every show about coral reefs...they are not beautiful but they are plentiful.

Strange thing about strange food. It goes in and just sits in your stomach. You know the feeling. It just sits there...waiting. For me it waited until I got to the airport...and then it got angry and wanted out...WHAM!

After my last trip home from Toronto...this one was uneventful. It was great to get home and be greeted by a good friend.

Coming home always is a bit of a decompression as compared to sales conferences...there are chores to do, a back-yard to clean up, kids with questions and work to do.

Nearing completion...

I haven't always been a handyman...some of my biggest fights with my dad revolved around plywood and circular saws (think Kelly Clarkson...singing "Because of You" in a garage full of powertools!). But as I have said before...my thriftyness (I get this from my Grandmother) prevents me from hiring someone to do something I am quite sure I can do myself. And in the day and age of internet everything...you can basically find a how to for any project on the world-wide web.

The countertops I put in...were preformed and just required one cut to fit them into the kitchen. Tage and I did these cuts one afternoon, after Peggy had left the house (she doesn't like to be around for my manic renovation episodes...smart lady!). Although they only required one cut...I felt like a diamond cutter...sweat broke out on my brow and my hands trembled...one major mistake and I could ruin the economic and resourceful advantages of doing it myself.

Yesterday I tiled in a backsplash...may I boast? It is a work of art...really beautiful. If you had asked me ten years ago to tile anything...I would have suggested sticky-backed vinyl tiles. Grout, Portland Cement?...no way! See how things change!

You might be wondering how hard I am on my own son during construction...well....the truth be told we work well together...and "seldom is heard a discouraging word"...besides...he has better tools than me...so I have to keep him happy!

It is Saturday morning...and it is one of my favorite times of the week. I get up generally before anyone else (one true fact of aging...is that you are ruined for sleeping in...I would like to blame my kids...but truthfully I should blame my bladder...or the dog's bladder!).

Regardless, I put on some coffee (Kicking Horse, is the brand de-jour...so dark you could mistake the whole beans for dark chocolate), and read the local newspaper while Tage gets himself ready to for work. What I am waiting for though is the arrival of the Edmonton Journal. The Saturday journal is a bit of a legend in our home. During a dreary winter of unemployment, the Saturday journal held a bit of promise for me each week. It wasn't just the classifieds...it was the pages of larger "Career" ads that lit the light of hope in me. In fact it was one of those ads that got me a job in a woman's shelter!

So now I return to the Saturday paper, not because I need a job but because it is comforting...in the way that some people find oatmeal or macaroni and cheeese comforting. I just heard the screen door slam...the Journal is here!!!