Just call me...

The Pine Needle Princess.

It's the semi-annual time of year when the regional district allows homeowners to put out for collection "as many bags of garden refuse as they want" as well as "prunings tied in bundles". In The Old Days we never did this. We had a car with a hitch, the trailer would be loaded, runs to the dump would be taken. Still have the trailer but Agnes is, thus far, hitchless.

This afternoon, I raked, bagged and stacked 41 garbage bags of pine needles. And took out 4 junipers. A pick was used. Also rakes: garden and grass. And a shovel. And some applied physics: a 9ft 2x2 makes a rudimentary ("better than no") yoke. If the Garden Refuse Crew doesn't come tomorrow, there may be more.

If I can lift my arms.

Liniment would be nice as would someone to rub it into me but in the absence of both, I have learned how to reset the hot-tub. Maybe a massage later in the week if not a chiro treatment. Thanks be that The Jr Boy left some beer.

I am proud of myself. And hoping the GRC will take the junipers even though they aren't officially "prunings".

They aren't tied up either.

Worst case: I can load those suckers into Agnes and deliver them to the dump myownself.

Still breathing.

And hoping my arms will move tomorrow.

Next up

Road trip to the Island starting in about an hour. Agnes has new pneus des neiges which is a damgood thing as there is new snow down the hills across the lake and the highway cams show "slush" at the high points (altitudinally) of the proposed journey. An uncle and his dog are waiting for collection and I am hoping the ferry gods will let us get to the Island today.

The call of Family Thanksgiving is echoing across the land. GreydogBusCo puts all the extra dogs on, fills them with grandparents who no longer drive and students who can't afford the time or the insurance and delivers both to the gathering of the clans. These gatherings are variously cussessful: do I have to eat Auntie's jellied salad? (No) who is responsible for the the cranberry sauce and will they remember? (Me and whaddaya think?) why can't people leave me alone? (because ......) is the turkey done? (Let's have another glass of wine to be sure) but they happen because something makes us drive for hours and sit on jamcans of ferries to sit around and eat too much, listen to old and new stories, then ferry jam, drive for hours again. What is that something? I have no idea what it is for anyone else but I have a small collection of ideas about my "somethings".

For years, our small tribe of four went to the cabin and cooked turkey in a pit and seven vegetables on a two-burner camp stove. We made the pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce at home and carried them with all the kitchen and camping gear to the place The Sr Boy and I had built with salvaged wood, windows, and fireplace. It was the family gathering with few expectations: we would be together as a family and eat some excellent food. There were always walks: beach for preference, woods or road if the tide was too high. The locals we saw once a year at church were always welcoming if bemused that we were cooking turkey in a pit yet again.

I am not going to the cabin this year; The Jr Boy has to work and The Jr Girl has to travel.

I am going to the Island, though. There will be expectations but the only ones I am willing to participate in are excellent food and a walk. Maybe church. I can do those.

Everything else will have to be put back into the box for another time.

Thanks giving

and still breathing.....