SPT: Icecream, You Scream

What does a fresh baked cookie girl do with day-old cookies?

Buy locally

Carmen and her friend made $45 dollars at their lemonade stand at the end of the street on Friday afternoon.

How great that my neighbors decided to buy locally!



I like the idea of buying locally, but going to the farmer's market is a major excursion. I'm trying to do it more often because the rumblings out there are that it is more healthy to buy locally grown food. I'm warming up to a new theory: the wing-nuts might be right. (Remember when we debated the reality of global warming? Wasn't it the wing-nuts who believed in it first?)
Fifteen years ago I had a friend (mild wing-nut) who wouldn't put plastic cups through her dishwasher, and despite the chaos of her life and home she washed all her plastic dishes by hand. Score another one for the wing-nuts because now we all know about pseudo-estrogens in our plastics that become unstable at high temperatures, like in the heat in dishwashers, and that we should be hand washing our plastic water bottles. Or throw away our plastic water bottles and buy metal ones. (Scary BPA's!)



In my grandmothers' time there was some belief that aluminum pots contributed to Alzheimer's, but we're still using aluminum foil. Different? Or were the wing-nuts wrong on that one? I don't know. Yesterday for dinner we had baked potatoes with sweet peppers and onion inside for moisture and seasoning - my favorite way to have a baked potato. We first had these on a pack-in horsey camping trip with Ken's family (let's see . . . how old is Ross?) 17 years ago.



Here's a buy-locally product. This organ was $5 in a garage sale right around the corner from me on Saturday morning. Ken wasn't home to talk me out of it, and Jaclyn was home to talk me into it, so now we have a little organ. Tomorrow night the home teachers are going to carry it upstairs to Jaclyn's room where she can practise hymns and occasionally creep us out with a little bit of Phantom of the Opera. Jaclyn played the organ (foot pedals and all) for Sacrament meeting 2 weeks ago, and I think this little organ will cut down on trips to the church to practise. Ken wonders if we are blessing her or cursing her with this particular area of talent development.

I'm considering organ lessons myself for the second season of The Year of Barb. But I might keep it a secret. So I won't tell you if I do.

Cliff Jumping

The first half of this week I was supposed to go to Lethbridge with my kids to spend some time with my parents, but my mom broke her clavicle, and my dad said don't come. I know this sounds backwards like I should be there helping my mom, but my dad works from home so he's with her, and if I showed up right now she'd put on her hostess face and wear herself out by our sheer presence.

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If we'd gone to Lethbridge we would have hit Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump on the way home, but with our change in plans we made the trip down to the Jump and back today.

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I was working on a self-portrait when someone offered to help me out by taking my picture, and I'm glad I accepted because I hadn't noticed that the shrub behind us was trimmed to resemble a bison, and that wouldn't have turned out in my arm's length photo.

The first thing we did was settle ourselves down for the native dancing that is done on Wednesdays. It was highly entertaining. Our host first talked to us about how Natives have been misrepresented in old Westerns. I thought okay, here we go, a little sensitivity training. But I was wrong. So very wrong.

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He had everyone do the Warrior-Chasing-John-Wayne-Indian-Call. What????

I couldn't believe it.

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Then he explained that the warriors yip and yell but it's the women who do the "Shrill" (to express their approval in some way) and that it isn't done with the hand, rather, with the tongue. There you go.
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We were then treated to some dancing - this was the Shawl Dance.
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This one was really called the Chicken Dance.
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The kids and I all joined in when we were invited to participate, but I got to hold hands with the Bustle Dancer.
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After the dancing we checked out the interpretive centre and climbed up to check out the jump.
We'd already seen the movie indoors about how the buffalo would go over, and Chloe was a little afraid to follow our interpreter to the actual jump. I assured her that we wouldn't go right up to the edge, and we didn't, but I like that my picture makes it look like we did.
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A storm was rolling in over the canola fields on our way home and was probably the prettiest sight of the day. At least for me.
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Some of the kids thought this was the prettiest sight of the day and wanted me to buy them Slurpee's, taquitos, fried chicken & potato wedges (only at Claresholm's 7-11). I reminded them of dad's rule about no food in the new van and then they told me that last time they drove through with dad he bought them all that food. It seems that we break the rules for food that Ken wants himself.
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So though Ken was downtown working today, he was with us in spirit as the kids shimmy-shaked their Slurpee's (to keep the syrup evenly distributed) and ate their chicken (heavy on the napkins).

I knew it

I never cut the grass. Never. I was taught once when I was about 13 years old, but it turns out that's what brothers are for. And husbands. And sons.

I've always suspected that boy work is more fun than girl work and today I confirmed it: sweaty and satisfying, just as I always thought.

SPT: Shade

We've had a fairly cool summer, which hasn't had me running for shade very often. Finally yesterday we had a scorcher. Jaclyn wasn't completely impressed that I chose such a hot day to go to Calaway Park, but off we went and we had a good time. At first Jaclyn stuck with Chloe and I while Steven and Carmen ran off together, but then when we met up with the 'middles' we re-grouped and Jaclyn went with Steven and Carmen.

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Chloe was thrilled to be in the pink zone - there were plenty of new rides or independent rides for her. She made new friends on every ride and by the end of the afternoon there were a few hugs good-bye to children she'd run into again and again that day.
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We all ran for some shade around 5pm and settled down for a bit with our mini-melts (aka dip-n-dots the freeze dried ice cream droplets). I'm not usually a big fan of the mini-melts but for some reason the banana split flavor totally did it for me yesterday, so after I had a taste of Chloe's I bought a bowl of my own (for the first time ever).

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The larger camera is a greater balance challenge for a one-armed self portrait.

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(Yes, I know I'm a week late on the shade spt, but I've had a lack of material up until yesterday. Kinda like the grass element: my main interaction with grass happens when I'm doing the laundry, which I guess is where I should attempt the grass spt.)

Where I'm At

Yesterday Brother Shaw told me there's a Nova Scotia saying that says, "Stay where you're at and I'll come where you're to."

Here's where I'm at today:

For some reason the new camera orientation class at The Camera Store was cancelled Saturday but Ken and I went down to the store anyways, and we bought a new camera bag for me.

I'm hoping it's just the right size for my camera, my wallet, and my cell phone so that I'm not trying to carry around a camera bag and a purse at the same time.
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It's probably for the best that I'll have to wait a couple of weeks for the DSLR class. The more I use my camera the more questions I have, and therefore the longer I wait the more valuable the class will be. However, close-up photos have been instantly better.
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Especially for subjects that will stay still like my favorite roses in my backyard. Too bad most of my subjects are in constant motion.
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This morning I had a bad dream. The kind you have to fight your way out of and wake up from to make sure it's only a dream. Then, soon after I woke up, I heard Steven in the bathroom and I remembered we had committed to running together every morning for the next 2 weeks to train together before football tryouts start on July 28. I really didn't wake up feeling like a run, but I dragged myself out of bed and off we went. We did my 5K route. We've never gone for a jog together before, and it turns out we are perfect running partners because our strides are almost the same length. Steven is stronger on sprinting than long distance, and he's pretty sure that sprinting is more important in football, but we think that endurance will be a factor by the end of the 2-hour tryouts every night for a week.

When we got home Steven ate 4 breakfasts, and I went upstairs and did a little crying in the shower because my dream came back to me. Where were the running endorphins? Not chasing the sad feelings from my dream away! What I dreamed this morning was that Chloe had died as a baby and that it was the anniversary of her death. It was crushing.

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Focusing on picturing her 7 year old face in my mind helped.

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Moving on.

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This coming week we have nothing calendared, but we have a long list of things we want to do this summer, thanks to Auntie O's visit last week. Milly's mom sat down with my old Martha Stewart Kid's magazines one night last week and made a list of fun ideas to do with Milly the rest of the summer, and Chloe couldn't stand not having a list of her own, so she started one herself. We're going to Calaway Park, Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump, the library, making treats, going to a splash park, doing crafts. . . and that's just this week.

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We do have one thing calendared on Thursday: Steven has an interview with the Bishop to receive his Faith in God Award which he has worked on over the past 4 years - saving memorizing the Articles of Faith for last. The interview is also going to cover preparing to be ordained a deacon on August 10th. I'm really excited about Steven's upcoming ordination - he's so ready. Ken and I both marvel and the growth we've seen in our boy in the past year.

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I remember a long time ago a mother, who was further along in mothering than I was, remarking to me that 'there is nothing more thrilling than normal growth and development.' As I watch my kids grow and develop there doesn't seem to be anything normal about it, miraculous seems like a better word to describe my wonder. She was right about one thing: it is a thrill.

It's like I got a new haircut

It's like I got a new haircut, but I don't know how to style it.
It's like I switched from Supercuts to an uptown salon, and I know it's better, but so far I don't look any better. Because I don't know how to style it.
It's like I complained about my Supercuts hairstyle and then Ken surprised me and gave me a gift certificate for an uptown salon.
Or more like he blindfolded me and drove me uptown himself.
Or more like he brought the uptown hairstylist to me.
And I know it's better, and I've wanted it for a long time, but I don't know how to manage my new haircut, and so it doesn't actually look better (because I don't know what I'm doing).
So I'm hiding out.
But tomorrow I'm going to that uptown salon and getting some lessons.
On my new *haircut*.

Dinner in the Barn

(It's a Stampede thing)

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Yep, in an actual barn.

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We should have sat in the driver's seat for our picture, dagummit. I am much more duded out than Ken is, but this was my one special Stampede night and Ken had to dress western for work all week, so he paced himself. He is wearing cowboy boots, you'll have to trust me on that. And his shirt has a pony on it.

Ken and I were invited by his bankers from work to have dinner with the driver of their sponsored chuck wagon, and then to stay and watch the chuck wagon races. The dinner was spectacular, though Ken and I ate ours just outside of the barn at the rain barrel tables.

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The best part of the night was getting a tour from Chad Harden, the chuck wagon driver, and learning about his horses. He brings 24 horses to the Stampede, but only hooks 4 of them per night. He considers the racing situation and strategically plans which horses to use based on which barrel he's starting at and the conditions of the field. And which horses get along with each other. I liked the short explanations on the signs next to each stall. (Do you think the bankers are getting enough recognition from me here? Without me actually typing out the name myself?)

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The races started with O Canada. The chopper must have been brought down from the army base in Edmonton just for the Stampede, because the Calgary base has been closed for several years.

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The races were much more exciting to me this year now that I know what goes into putting together a chuck wagon team.

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Plenty of Stampede is cheesy, but I thought our police officers looked pretty great in their cowboy hats.

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Too bad that girl over my left shoulder didn't get a tour of the barn, she might have enjoyed the races more if she had.

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Ken's stampede experience wasn't complete until he grabbed a giant corn dog on our way out of Stampede Park. I was too full from dinner to buy myself an entire bag of mini donuts (my Stampede must-eat food) but I still managed to leave the Stampede (ful)filled because I ran into a friend on the way out who offered me one from her bag. Yee-haw!

End of The Reign of Terror

/The thing about summer birthdays is that your family has to put up with you all day, and submit to your every whim. All day.

The birthday girl chooses what we eat, what we do, what we play, where we go, and what we watch on t.v. because it's her birthday. I myself have an October birthday so I probably spent my 7th birthday in school where birthday privileges are limited, but I imagine *queen for the day* is quite a heady experience.

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Chloe chose the cake, how to ice it, and where to position the candles (though when it was time to eat she regretted the vanilla icing and wished she'd gone all chocolate).

Happy Birthday Chloe. Sweet dreams. Tomorrow is a new, and different, day.

SPT: WATER-ton

Last week, after YW's camp, we headed to Waterton for 4 days with our own kids and 3 of our nieces. Waterton is the national park of my childhood, and though I now live closer to Banff, it will never be the same for me.
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Waterton Lake viewed from The Prince of Wales Hotel.
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My favorite water attraction in Waterton is Red Rock Canyon, but our weekend wasn't quite warm enough for nature's water slides. Another time.
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Here's as close as I got to a self portrait together with my horse (without the horse eating my camera). You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him pose for a double self portrait.
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Ken thought that my color & plaid coordination was funny, perhaps the Camelbak coordinated just a little too well . . .
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But I didn't bring the Camelbak for fashion - it is a hiking essential! We climbed Bear's Hump between multiple thunderstorms on Friday, with hot, oppressive storm-building sunny breaks. The humidity and pressure made that 'easy' hike a little less easy.
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It is satisfying to look down on the town of Waterton and spy the cabin you are staying in.
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Top of Bear's Hump with Waterton Lake in the background.
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Cameron Lake, with the distant (Glacier Park) end still being fed by melting snow.
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We had such a great time, I can't wait to find out where my feng shui summer will take me next!

Where in the world can you . . .

chase down deer in a Surrey Bike,

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have a keep-your-feet-in-the-cold-water-the-longest battle,

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go horseback riding,

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climb the same mountain for the millionth time,

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race paddle boats,

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kiss a frog,

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chillax in your friends' spare cabin,

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play games in your backyard by day,

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and observe bears in your backyard (50 yards from the deck) by twilight?