One afternoon this week, feeling melancholy and missing Maya, Gerry and I went to the Wakamow Valley and walked to the place where, once upon a time in my childhood, there was a wild animal park. I’ve wanted to find that spot since last summer when we visited Moose Jaw and made the decision to…
It’s raining. Not so much cats and dogs as deer and antelope. Real rain. Prairie rain. The overflow on our rain barrel pours into a row of lilacs. My little garden beds drink it in. There are unconfirmed reports of the first tornado of the season south of us and pictures of funnel clouds posted…
It’s been a busy week. Gerry has worked hard to put down mulch in our front perennial beds, which involved sorting weed from plant and disposing of the former first. The beds look great. I’ll share photos after more than just columbine is in bloom. The backyard is ready for serious work we’re planning to…
An afternoon with no commitments and Gerry and I head off to explore. With coffee in hand, I direct the way to where we’re going and, later, my adventuresome husband takes us down dusty prairie roads we think will lead us eventually back to Moose Jaw. (They do. Eventually.) It’s a lovely afternoon, just the two…
I liken May to January as a month of making plans and setting intentions. Apart from gardening plans (which are slow in coming as I wait to see what surprises will be revealed in new yard), I like to make personal writing, reading, and other creative plans. I envision lazy afternoons spent in the new…
This is the view from my car every afternoon around 3:25 p.m. when I join the line of cars waiting to pick up kiddos from school, now and for the foreseeable future. Caronport is about a 20-minute drive from Moose Jaw. Every weekday afternoon I am presented with a choice: go up memory-laden Main Street…