Still Filling the Well in Bayfield, Ontario

The view from my hammock in Bayfield, Ontario.
I am currently blogging at my group blog - Four Mugs and a Crock. Come and check us out.

Weekend Mucking About at the Trailer

Along with trailer ownership comes trailer maintenance. On Friday night there were severe thunderstorms for about 2 hours, and when I went outside in the morning I could hear a steady drip drip drip.

I found that water was dripping over the edge of the eavestrough at the lower end. That can't be good I said to myself. Who knows how long its been since the eavestrough had been cleaned out but I was up for the job, so to speak, at least once I got out the stepladder.

I had no rubber gloves and the only tool that would fit into the narrow trough was a garden trowel. Up the ladder I went, trowel in hand. Wow, you can see all around the park from the top of my ladder - cool.

However, the black sludge in the trough, years old accumulation of maple leaves and maple keys, wasn't so cool. It smelled. Bad. Like manure. But being raised by a man who could stick his bare hand into the entrails of a dead chicken I am no wuss, but I do admit to wrinkling my nose. I scooped with the trowel and bravely dug down with my left hand to lift masses of oozing black guck out of the trough and then tried to toss it onto the same spot on the lawn, over and over again.

Oh, and did I mention that all this goo (I think a few more years and I would have had my own source of petroleum) was lying under several inches of brackish water? No? Well it was, and as I gradually worked my way down the front of my porch the water slowly started to trickle down the spout out onto the lawn. By the time I reached the downspout most of the water had successfully escaped but looking back I could still see small bits of sludge here and there that I had missed when it was still underwater.

Not one to leave a job partially done I pulled the hose over and started at the other end again spraying water down the trough till it was totally clear of yucky stuff.

I was a little smarter when bagging the goo I had tossed down. Not really yearning to immerse my hands once again in black slime but lacking gloves I put my hand inside a plastic bag and then cleared up the manure pile. Farmer Hazelnut!

I was able to sleep much better that night knowing my troughs were clear.

Monday Memoirs - Turkey Point

When I was a kid, yeah that's me kneeling on the blanket, my gramma Catton used to rent the same cottage at Turkey Point for a week every summer. This was quite a few years back and it cost about $30 for a week of sunburns, underwater handstands, potato salad and cucumber sandwiches. Yeah, pure bliss! Seated beside me is one of my older brothers - Kim, and one of my older sisters - Dale. I still remember that short set I was wearing - I thought it was so cool. It was white but had these red and white striped thingys you could tie into bows at the neck and on the legs of the shorts.

It was a great place to spend a week - the beaches were sandy and the lake full of dunes - you could walk out a mile and the water would only be up to your armpits. Not that I was a great swimmer, but I never came too close to drowning. The water and the food and the freedom were the best part for me, (no mother telling me to eat my vegetables or not to go out into the lake too far - just gramma who never said no to a second ice cream cone) however, from what my sisters remember it was the gin that my gramma doled out in generous amounts mixed with Wink that provided some of their best memories!

We always rented the same cottage - cottage #4. It is still there, now part of the "Whispering Pines" group of cottages, though updated and a bit more pricey at $535 per week. It has new siding, new windows and linoleum and I don't remember there being a firepit.

#4 was our favourite because in addition to 2 bedrooms it had a sunporch with a couch where another person could sleep.

Here's the sunporch now and you get a good view of the road leading down to the beach - the water isn't too far away. My cousin Murray and I would play on the road with our cars and trucks making roadways in the sand, impatiently waiting for gramma to announce that it was time to go to the beach. There was also a swing at the other end of the road behind a little hedge and a spring coming out of the side of a hill by the swing with cold wonderful tasting water. (Pesticides?)

My cousin Murray usually only lasted til about Tuesday or Wednesday when his dad would have to come and get him because he'd be sunburned so badly. No sunblock in those days. I survived somehow and usually only ended up with the usual assortment of scrapes, cuts, bruises and second degree burns.

Honestly, I was the most battered looking child ever. I was such a tomboy I was forever falling out of trees or falling while climbing over a rusty barbwire fence. Yet I never broke a bone or poked an eye out like my brother Kim. In fact, (correct me if I'm wrong ceeb) I don't remember a single broken bone in our entire family. I give all credit to our mother...."get down from there"...."put that down"...."get off the roof right now"...."stop shooting those arrows at your sister"...."no you can't play with your father's rifle"...."no, you can't drink that"....etc etc.

Now I have my own trailer to go to at a different lake but the feelings are still the same. Everyone needs a place to escape to in the summer, a place to let your hair down with no boss looking over your shoulder, no deadlines....just pure bliss.

Monday Memoirs - Life Cycle of a Laying Hen

Chickens have always played a large role in my family. What an odd statement. But true nonetheless. There's my dad holding a chicken in his arms at age 4. He lived almost 80 more years and raised countless chickens.

Unfortunately not all of my experiences with our chickens were pleasant. I have memories of one flapping around me when I was about 3 and digging its talons into my bare back. Not a happy memory. And I was always a little hesitant opening up the henhouse door when I had to collect the eggs. Hesitant was good because if I opened the door suddenly all the hens would fly up and flap their wings and the air would be full of squawking and feathers. Tiptoeing in was better and gently gliding my hand under their bums in one smooth quick movement to clutch and grab the still warm eggs.

I have to admit there was a certain fascination for me in watching my dad select an old hen for the stewing pot. He had a long metal hook and would reach with it into the chicken coop and give a quick yank on the neck of one of the older hens. Then he would chop its head off with an axe and yes, I have seen them run around headless, but not for long. Then he would dunk it into boiling water and pull out the feathers.

Now for the insides. Dad would spread newspaper over the picnic table and carefully explain to me each organ as he would remove it - I was spellbound but in no way did the experience make me want to be a vet or a doctor. It was more an interest in the whole process - from a live chicken in the coop to a simmering chicken pot pie in the oven. Yum.

I never remember feeling sorry for the chicken, I do remember feeling "lucky me"! Chicken for supper! I mean, that's the way it was. We eked out our diet by raising chickens and growing a large garden. The chickens roamed free most of the time, had a good life laying eggs and scratching about in the dirt, then when they were old and couldn't lay eggs anymore, sacrificed their lives to give us one more meal.

I just can't feel sad about that!

Trailer Made!

You will notice that my blogging output decreases in direct relationship to good weather and "trailer time!" Last July I purchased a trailer in a summer park just outside Bayfield, Ontario. It was the best money I ever spent. I lead a somewhat (hah!) stressed existence as a single parent of a university bound 17 year old child/teen/woman (cheeman...chilteman...cheenan?)

The other major stressor in my life is my job. I love my job, don't get me wrong, but it wakes me up about 3 or 4 times a night. I jolt awake and wonder how to convince "Sam's" father to accept some help, like a support worker for Sam, a medical checkup....etc when he sees any recommendation as a sign he is a failure as a father (she just moved in with him last August after her grandmother died and we just want to help him out but he sees it as interference). A little while later I open my eyes and worry about "Tanya", a student with autism who is graduating this year, she is 21, as her parents have made no plans for her - what is she going to do all day? Then about an hour before the alarm goes off I sit upright and hope that "Rusty" remembers to take his medication for epilepsy when he goes on his overnight trip with his Gr. 9 band class. And on and on it goes.

When I go to the trailer I can leave all of these worries behind me. When I am at the trailer I am no longer a teacher. Instead, I am someone who can take apart a large, heavy sofabed with a hammer, a screwdriver and a pair of scissors. (It came with the trailer but it needed to go and it wouldn't fit through the door so I took it apart- it was for the best as I was able to recycle all the metal and kept the wood for burning in the firepit!)

When I am at the trailer I become a beachcomber, walking the shoreline everyday picking up kindling for that night's fire. I become an expert at recognising birdcalls, and keep my eye on the birdfeeders and bird houses nestled in the trumpet vines across from my trailer. My heart rate slows down and the most important thing I have to do is ride my bike into town to drink iced coffee in front of the Bean Bag, buy delectable pastries at the bake shop for tomorrow's breakfast and a bottle of wine for tonight's BBQ. Well, that's important!

This week's trailer task is to take up a futon to replace the sofa bed and two storage ottomans to hold my daughter's clothing/stuff. Hopefully it will be sunny so I can finish raking the leaves and plant the climatis I bought a week ago and plant the native grass seeds a friend gave me. Then we'll be ready to stay through the Victoria Day weekend, better known in Canada as the May two four weekend (in reference to a case of 24 beer bought by millions of Canadians as we kick off the long-awaited summer party weekend season.)

I'll stick to a six pack myself.

An Embarrassment of Riches

My Can Cupboard

I've heard the first step in resolving a problem is first admitting you have one. Alright then...I have a problem. I call it my "Little House on the Prairie" syndrome and I have been this way since first moving out on my own....32 years ago!

As a young girl growing up I used to go to the village library at least once a week to take out 4 books. The librarian, Miss Lossing, knew my card # by heart, I didn't even have to get it out to show it to her (#222 - yes it was an easy one). Miss Lossing also served in the role of censor, shaking her head slightly when I veered too close to the young adult section of the library. Rats, caught again. Was it a coincidence they were located behind and just to the left of her desk? I think not!

As a result I read and reread all of the books in the Little House on the Prairie series and fretted along with Ma and Pa as they worried whether they had stored enough food in the loft for the upcoming long cold winter season. No trivial event to run out of food in the midwestern United Stores in the days before corner stores...or close well-stocked neighbours!

My Refrigerator

So while that is my excuse I really have no valid reason to stuff my cupboards, fridge, freezer and pantry with enough food to feed a small nation for a month. Believe it or not there is only my daughter and myself to feed. I could very easily not shop for a couple of months and we'd still eat quite nutritiously.

My Freezer

In these scary days of increasing food prices, looming food shortages, grain being diverted to make ethanol, drought, and dwindling reserves I feel embarrassed, nay ashamed, by the riches in my kitchen.

My Pantry

We are used to such variety in our diets. Although I eat oatmeal every morning (but that's another story best read about at my group blog) my daughter is quite accustomed to eating a different cereal each day of the week. Watching the Free Rice video where children were so grateful to eat rice for every meal made me feel kind of sick.

So, while I can afford to eat pretty much anything I want, should I? Will my good fortune continue in this uncertain world of vanishing resources or should I begin to prepare for a more meagre future? Where should I start? Well, I can think of a few places.... I need to get my food purchasing under control. No matter how long winter is here in southwestern Ontario I can think of half a dozen grocery stores within walking distance - I'm not gonna starve!!

Stay tuned for future developments.

Warm Weather Keeping Me Outside!

I've been putting a few miles on my sneakers this week. In southwestern Ontario we've been treated to about a two week preview of late spring/early summer weather and it has been heavenly after a long winter of being cooped up inside. So at lunchtime and after school I've been strapping on the sneaks and walking around the neighbourhood soaking in the sights and sounds of spring.


Many flowering trees are in bloom, along with forsythia bushes and the ever popular pussy willow. Robins are nesting, sitting on a new brood, and the air is filled with the chirping sounds of a variety of very happy birds. It's a good time to be alive. The other day my neighbour and I toasted the beginning of BBQ season by sitting on my newly cleaned up patio with a glass of wine. Ah.....good times.


Of course, all of this outdoorsiness means less time spent in front of the computer but nature calls, so to speak. This past weekend saw me up at my trailer just outside of Bayfield raking leaves and discovering new plants and flowers poking up. I also spent 4 hours taking apart a 20 year old sofa bed as that was the only way to get it out of the trailer. A light rain fell for part of the morning but I was very cozy inside with my hammer and screwdriver, tunes playing from my iPod, the raindrops hitting the metal roof, coffee close to hand.


The good news is that I can now access the internet at the trailer park so will be posting from the comfort of my hammock this summer as I watch the hummingbirds at my feeder, the white geese ambling across the road and the little chipmunks chase each other around the silver maple.

Bliss!

Drought in Canada

Pictured above: Georgian Bay taken while hiking in Lion's Head, Ontario

I must apologize for something stupid I wrote the other day.... "I have an endless supply of fresh water" ...I stated in this post called Living Simply vs. Simply Living. Perhaps I can be forgiven for thinking that way as I live in an area surrounded by lakes - Great Lakes to be exact. I can take a short drive south (40 minutes, 30 if I hurry) and walk out into Lake Erie, pictured below.

I can cross the border and get up close and personal with Lake Michigan, pictured above during last summer's trip to Chicago.
Or I can drive for an hour north-west and watch the sunset over my beloved Lake Huron. All fresh water, seemingly endless.


However, I am wrong....very wrong. This chart shows where the world's water supply is located and freshwater lakes account for only 0.0070% of which 20% is located in Canada.

Estimate of Where the Earth’s Water Can be Found
Oceans, saline lakes and other saltwater 97.4800 %
Icecaps/glaciers, frozen and underground freshwater 2.5100 %
Freshwater lakes 0.0070 %
Soil moisture 0.0009 %
Atmospheric water vapour 0.0009 %
Marshes and wetlands 0.0009 %
Rivers 0.0002 %
Incorporated in biota 0.0001 %
Total 100.0000 %
http://atlas.nrcan.gc.ca/site/english/maps/freshwater/1

Approximately 60% of our fresh water drains to the north while 80% of our population lives close to the Canada/U.S. border. I sense a problem here. Also, over the past few years our prairie provinces have been experiencing drought conditions, and with the effects of global warming this situation will only worsen.

At http://www.goblue.org/ you can calculate your water footprint with a one-minute calculator. The average Canadian uses 125,000 litres of water per year while in Europe the average per person is only 73,000 litres per year. I was a little worried but then happy (sort of) to see that I am using less than half the national average. My water footprint is about 67,292 litres per year. That number still seems unacceptably high. The challenge at this informative website is to cut your annual water useage in half.

I think I am up for the challenge but I may have to cut a foot off my daughter's hair! Tee hee. Seriously though, I think there are some things I can do to decrease my water consumption. I am going to go over all of the tips at Go Blue and I'll get back to you.

Living Simply vs Simply Living

Recently we held a multicultural day at our school. We do so every year because we have students from over 90 different countries at our school and we like to set one special day aside to celebrate our diversity. At an assembly that morning Kathy Mueller from London's A Channel came to speak about her trip to Sudan. She had accompanied a group of fire fighters who were helping to build a school.

One thing that Kathy said really stuck in my mind. It was a quote from Ghandi who had said we should "live simply so that others can simply live." I've been thinking about that a lot. This past Sunday my pastor spoke about what it means to have "an abundant life" and how different that is for us, in an affluent country, as opposed to the billions who struggle to "simply live" from day to day.

This morning when I got up for work I took a shower. I really enjoyed that shower, as I do every morning. I made the water as hot as I could stand it and by the time I was done I was wide awake and ready for another day of teaching. I don't think my shower is under 3 minutes, a record set by my famous relative ceeb at Four Mugs and a Crock (see this post for other water conservation tips), but it isn't much longer. I have to be quick, you see, because my 17 year old gets in next. We use more water each morning to make coffee, brush our teeth and flush our toilet.

I live an abundant life and I take it for granted. When I walk over to the tap I don't worry if anything is going to come out. I don't even have to think about it. I have an endless supply of fresh water. Once at work I make more coffee and after a second cup I switch to drinking water for the rest of the day - refilling my bottle several times over the course of the day. It's so easy. Perhaps it's too easy.

Kathy described how a woman's day in Sudan is all about obtaining water and food for her family. That is her career. Instead of walking over to the tap a Sudanese woman walks to the river or a well, perhaps a two hour journey or more. With jugs of water full she walks another two hours to get home, through countryside that hasn't seen rainfall in many months. No pitstops along the way for an iced capuccino. No car or bus to hasten the journey. While she is away her babies are looked after by the older children.

The New York Times reported today that 3.2 million people in Sudan face food and water shortages due to civil unrest and a longlasting drought. Food drops have already begun.

The next time you turn on your tap and fill a glass full of clear, clean water stop and think for a moment. Feel gratitude for your abundant life and find ways to conserve and share your abundance. There are many ways to help - CARE is one of them.