Archives for the month of: January, 2009

On Being Tired

January 26, 09 //

Is there anything asÂ lovely as being completely utterly, impossibly tired and then sinking onto a bed that you can sleep on?

I remember being a kid driving home from somewhere late in the evening and wanting nothing more than to be back home in my bed–instead of flopping around in the backseat of a noisy, bumpy car. As a kid in the backseat with my elbow on the door rest, I’d try to balance my head on my hand but it never worked.

Right now I feel like a kid in the backseat, and I’m just about to crawl intoÂ a plump, plush bed. I’m twenty seconds away from heaven, and I can’t wait.Â

Pizza at Twenty Below

January 22, 09 //

A long time ago, we used to dream about moving to the country (for us, we dreamed of moving to PEI). We used to pore over Greenspree’s blog and try to get a sense for what it was like on Prince Edward Island.

Somewhere along the way Greenspree wrote about converting a chest freezer into a super-energy-efficient fridge, and we thought it was a great idea. (Greenspree has lots of good ideas.)

All fridge, no freezer

A few months ago, we bought a chest freezer and reduced the freezer’s temperature, which, in effect, turned it into a fridge.

As a result, we had a big fridge–but no freezer compartment in which to store such necessities as ice cream healthy frozen fruit and frozen pizzas frozen items involving lentils because we’re really healthy like that.

So, without a freezer, we have just been staying away from frozen foods.

But now that the temperature has dropped below zero–sometimes dropping as far as twenty celsius below zero–we thought we’d buy a frozen pizza and store it in a box outside.

Well, it turns out that twenty below is a little too cold for frozen pizza. After a few days out in the cold, the pizza got all…freezer-burny.

But it still tasted good.

PS: I don’t eat pizza anymore!

Farm Life versus Work Life

January 20, 09 //

I am torn between “country living” and “work”.. One minute I am helping Cameron stack firewood and the next minute I am taking a business phone call. Having a foot in each camp is bizarre, and I’m not afraid to admit that these polar opposites have a tendency to freak me out.

Case in point

It’s bitterly cold and I am heading to a business meeting. Our vehicle, very farm hardy, takes twenty minutes to warm up and start, and I am dangerously close to being late for an important meeting as a result. My hair is perfectly coiffed, but I am scraping my windshield and getting blown about like a plastic bag in a parking lot.

Similarly, I want to keep our costs down. But if I’m attending a brightly lit seminar with twenty gorgeous women I want to at least be wearing spiffy shoes that don’t scream “I live in mud!”

This battle between farm life versus professional life has been a recurring theme, and I am learning to adjust to it.

Sometimes I feel like two people, and I don’t like it when my worlds collide.

I Don’t Get Out Much

January 15, 09 //

It seems that in the winter I don’t get out much.

Sometimes we get groceries. I go curling once a week, and Cameron curls twice a week. Sometimes I attend meetings, groups, and events. We almost went to the movies once.

Other than that, I am inside.

We’ve lived on the island for over a year, and we still haven’t swam in infamous Cavendish beach. In fact, we haven’t even seen it.

We haven’t touched anything Anne of Green Gables. We haven’t heard the Singing Sands. We haven’t watched the wind turbines whip ’round and ’round. We haven’t tasted the cheese lady’s gouda, haven’t been inside the bottle house, or haven’t done much else for that matter.

The only adventures we’ve really ever taken here on PEI have been:

Attending the Dundas Plowing Match Fair;

Spending Canada Day in Charlottetown;

Doing a scavenger hunt at the Montague Summer Days Festival;

And being pleasantly forced by our friends to go to the beach once:

This is not to say that there’s much to do; it’s just that we don’t get out much.

A Day in the Life of Cameron

January 12, 09 //

I don’t seem to mention much about Cameron these days. It must be because I am trying to collectively ignore him. If I didn’t ignore him, my guilt would explode into a thousand crystal niblets and I’d be left lying in a crystalized pile on the floor next to the mountain of broom sweepings (that did get swept up…eventually).

You see, for the first eight months that we’ve lived in this house, we’d been working as a cohesive unit. We did the roof together, we drywalled together, we were one little happy renovation machine. We listened to CBC Radio all day together while we worked, and we were full-time renovators.

But then, in September, I stopped helping. One day I just stopped helping with the renovation–cold turkey. We agreed that I would focus on our business, and he would continue on with the house renovation…all alone.

Over the past three-to-four months he’s been working by himself on our house for 10 hours a day. While he’s upstairs working away, I choose to ignore him. I sit on my computer doing work. Or reading blogs doing research. Or writing Whimfield posts. Or drinking hot chocolate. Or maybe talking on the phone. Even right this second, he’s sanding a door or a wall or something. I can hear it, but he’s all alone up there.

When he comes downstairs through my office area, I don’t look at him. I’ve set up bizarre rules that are as follows, “Cameron cannot interrupt me while I am writing and working. I am a delicate genius; I cannot be disturbed.”

Occasionally he comes downstairs for a glass of juice or a bagel. He’s covered in drywall dust and exhausted from head to toe. I glare at him for disturbing me. He tries to tip-toe past but it’s not quiet enough for my liking. I glare some more and rip open a package of ear-plugs with my nose in the air.

He drinks juice and slides back upstairs and commences grinding and sanding for six more straight hours.

Sometimes I yell upstairs. “Cam, the internet is not working!!!!!” and he comes downstairs to perform feats of magic on my computer. I then say, “Thanks, goodbye!” And he slinks back up again to his mistress, the belt sander.

And this is how it is in our household is these days. Sometimes we come together for meals. But more often than not he’ll come downstairs at the end of the day and I’ll say, “I already ate cereal for dinner because I was hungry and you were still working. There are no more clean dishes. Can you blow out the driveway now? By the way, my internet is not working again. Thanks, goodbye.”

Cameron, do you still love me? I love you. You’re the hardest worker I’ve ever met. You’re a delicate genius, too. Thanks for all that you do.

Demise of a Christmas Tree

January 10, 09 //

Here’s a photo of our yard. Looks inconspicuous, no? Well, I’ll tell you what to look for in a minute.

I am an inadequate home-maker. I don’t clean and I don’t cook. Along the same lines, I have a terrible history of leaving Christmas trees up for way too long.

But this year, I took down our Christmas tree about three days after Christmas, because our house is a mess and the tree was just adding to the clutter.

I mentioned the fact that I am lacking in home-making skills, so perhaps you won’t be shocked by the following. And maybe if I just say it really fast you won’t actually absorb what I am about to say: by-taking-down-the-tree-I-just-meant-removing-the-decorations-and-opening-the-kitchen-door-and-launching-the-tree-out-into-the-yard. (But we live in the country. And that’s the glory of living in the country, because you can do such things.)

But the point is, I threw the tree into the yard and just left it there for a few days. But then the blizzard came, and now the Christmas tree is buried under three feet of snow.

All that’s peaking out is that little sprig, where the angel sat. Isn’t that sad?

Snow Drifts in the Driveway

January 8, 09 //

The never-ending snow that builds up in our driveway has been downright depressing over the past week.

After the recent blizzard, Cameron began blowing the driveway out with our little pushable snow-blower. He certainly wasn’t making much headway, strong as he is.

In the distance we heard a powerful noise. Lo and behold, our neighbour was making his way up our driveway in his tractor–blowing the three-foot snow drifts out as he came. We smiled. We cheered. We were very happy with this turn of events. While our snowblower is tiny, our neighbour’s snowblower is huge.

Our neighbour made several passes up our driveway. When he was done, our driveway was pristinely passable.

We talked a little shop, thanked him, and we all parted ways.

The snow had stopped coming down, and we thought that was that. Driveway dealt with!

Well, the snow had stopped. But the wind hadn’t.

Because of the lay of the land and the way the trees line our driveway, our driveway is the devil. Just as soon as we blow the driveway clear, the wind pushes the snow right back in again.

It’s kind of like one of those trick birthday candles… As soon as you blow the candle out, the flame comes back to life again.

And so it has been with our driveway over the past few days.

Before we can leave the property, Cameron must blow the driveway for hours on end because of the snow drifts that cover the driveway–even when it isn’t snowing. On occasion, our kindly neighbour will shake his head, smile, and bring in the big guns to set us straight again.

We realize that we need a tractor of our own, and that will come.

Today, the temperature warmed up, which made the snow heavier…so now it doesn’t blow across the driveway. But this past week has been trying. I think I’ll go and read my lovely post, “Why Snow Is Like a Good Friend” to remind myself to take deep breaths and smile. (Did I write that? Sheesh. Such starry-eyes!)

The good thing is that the snow isn’t always so light and fluffy. And it isn’t always so windy, so the entire winter shouldn’t be like this. (Right? I’m right, aren’t I?)

Blizzard on Prince Edward Island

January 1, 09 //

Imagine my surprise when I looked out the window this morning. Blustering, whipping snow and huge snow drifts. I thought, “Oh, blizzard!”

I then checked the weather online and saw the weather forecast: “Blizzard.”

I didn’t realize that blizzard was a technical term. I thought it was just something you said!