SPRING 2011 ON THE PRAIRIES

ISLAND LIVING

By Jocelyn Hainsworth

Be careful what you wish for.

All you people out there who buy lottery tickets and promptly take up dreaming of spending their winnings on a remote island where they will live out their days in peace and luxury – pay attention – a word of caution here; you need to be more specific!

We’ve all seen the lottery commercial with the young, gorgeous couple wandering their personal island, ending up on the patio of their exquisite beach house to relax in the sunshine ... the beach sand is white, the palm trees are perfect, the rum and colas are ice cold and are served with as much lime as they want. There is a boat on the beach in case they should ever want to leave, but get serious, who in their right mind ever would?

There is absolutely nothing wrong with the desire to live where the weather is warm year round. It’s a perfectly great idea to want the peace and solitude of living separate and away from the mainstream world. Who doesn’t dream of being served by handsome cabana boys – oh, whoops, probably about the half the population, but you know what I mean - when you’re dreaming you may as well dream big.

Dreaming big is fine; my warning is to be sure to dream more precisely. This can be very important. We had a little lesson in precise wishing last week, and I thought I would share the experience with you so that you don’t make the same mistake we did.

You see, even though I’m enthralled with the tropical island dream on TV, and picture myself wandering those same beaches, when I actually speak of what I would do with my imagined lottery winnings, what I actually say is “I sure would like to try that island living!” Did you note the lack of detail? Did I mention all the things I was picturing? Did I even imply the sand? The rum and colas? The cabana boy servant? No, I did not. How is Lady Luck to know about all of these things if they are not spelled right out for her? She’s a busy lady, you know. She can’t be blamed for the lack of information.

This subject comes up this week because last Thursday we woke up on an island. I can’t say as it was due to a big win in the money department, but I can assure you, it was a big surprise! There was water to the west of us and a waterfall just up the road. There was water in the Quonset and completely covering the Sask Power box in the front yard. There was water to the east of the house and the sump pump was running steady. There was water covering the entire yard, garden and well into the spruce trees in the shelter belt. There was water running uphill out of the barnyard to the east, and there was water within a foot of the top of the well cribbing. There was water across the driveway. We were on an island.

But it wasn’t at all like I had imagined it to be.

It was cold and dark, and dirty snow protruded from the water like icebergs. There was not a single palm tree on the horizon, and although I really could have used a good stiff rum drink for breakfast, there was a real lack of serving boys around as well. Sunshine did not warm my shoulders. Exotic tropical birds did not flit from tree to tree. The dog stood at the water’s edge and tried to get his bearings. This was nobody’s dream come true.

But, it was a lesson learned: be careful - and PRECISE - in what you wish for. I went to work and the Farmer took up some serious wishing of his own – mostly that the weatherman was right and it was going to get much cooler for the next few days so that the meltdown would slow down. He must have done something right because we’re only living on a peninsula now.

THE PRAIRIE MELTDOWN

It's been a rocky start to spring - we've had two substantial blizzards since the official first day of spring and the weatherman says we might well get more rain or snow tomorrow - people around here are starting to think that this is never going to end. I swear I'm going to dig out my spring coat and just wear it in defiance! Maybe we can ignore winter away.

When the sun shines there is good strength to it - I was amazed tonight when I left my office at how much the snow banks had receded from the sidewalks since I had walked in this morning. And the puddles are definately growing, which is just a warning of what is to come. All around town today you could here pumps running trying to keep the water at bay. I saw on my way out of town that they seem to be winning at the elementary school yard - yesterday there was a lake, today there was a large-ish pool. I'm sure the kids were fine with the water theme park, but the teachers are probably relieved that it's gone.

Farmers are sitting still. There are some years that they would be out on the land already, or at least have the equipment out in the yard getting ready to go. This year nothing like that is happening. Too much snow, or if the snow is gone, there is deep water or mud in its place. Glen is home from his work in the oil patch and expects that "break up" will go on a very long time this year. The ground is so saturated that they were having mud problems when it was 40 below. They would clear off the top frozen layer and find mud - which of course, being warmer than the air, would let steam of all day long. By dark the steam would be gone, they would go home and the next morning they would open it back up and start all over again. Even though these stories are great to tell, I think he would be pretty happy to just have dry earth to work with. There is no finesse to a job done with mud - frozen or otherwise.

I've spent the day thinking of my sister who spent most of her day in surgery to deal with cancer and reconstruction. Sounds like everything went as the doctors planned but texts only give the bare minimum of news - guess it's time to go give them a call.