Just for Giggles, and a Good Cause

I spent a Sunday volunteering at a local fundraiser. To say 'the day' is a bit of a stretch. But, I set my alarm for 6am on a Sunday so I'm rolling with it. My friend knew where we were going so I followed her like a lost puppy. Once in the storage room, it was actually more like a huge garage, I saw two tables to my right with pink disposable table cloths. I entered the room. Adjusting to the lights, the back of the room was filled with canoes, kayaks, and stand-up paddleboards, all organized on wooden shelves. To the right, just as we entered were paddles and life jackets of all shapes and sizes. Sign me up. Let me into the water. But, I had an assigned job.  Kind of. I was to help my friend set up the silent auction table. Turning my attention to the left, the one table was half-filled with items. We were handed a pile of sheets with pictures and descriptions of a number of items, waiting for bids. At a quick glance at the pics and the items, there was a problem. 

"I'm a bit confused. These don't match," I said, holding the papers out and pointing at the table.

"Some of these things are gifts." The coordinator began pushing items to the side. 'Gift prize... gift prize."

"Okay, so what about the rest of the stuff?"

"The auction items are coming," the organizer assured us.

She was super cool without a care in the world. For a woman running the entire event, not delegating anything to anyone, that amazed me. 

The auction wouldn't close until 3pm, so, I suppose there was time. I've been involved in volunteering for more charity events than I care to admit. I could handle this. Kathy and I could handle this. "Okay. We will do what we can."

We were left to work. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, more items slowly drifted in and we shifted things around. 

My work was more or less concluded within a few hours.  We weren't about to stay in the garage while the bulk of the activity took place near the water. 

One of the best parts of the day were the costumes. We saw a lot of TuTus. On women, men, and even the dogs. Yes, I did say dogs. Most of the critters wore life jackets. They all wore TuTus. 

I can't imagine trying to get my dog to wear that. I think she'd swear at me as I attempted to put it on her. She certainly doesn't think much of her winter coat. These dogs were troupers. 

  

















The games were the most comical part of the day. Paddleboard races. The ladies were 'nice and sportsmanlike' on the water as they paddled around a buoy and returned. The men on the other hand were more fun to watch. They were more competitive and more willing to tumble into the water. They attempted to jump onto each other's boards. Have you ever tried to steady yourself, on long inflatable material, let alone jump from one to another? They tip, and tip easily. It isn't a sport for those without balance, That was apparent as I watched them. The better the boarders were, the more willing they were to go in. And they tumbled and went in with a splash.

There were a lot of fit people that were huffing and puffing after the races.

Overall it was a great day. Kathy left with a new paddle, a silent auction item that we kept an eye on. Her hubby would be one happy man. The dark clouds blew over without releasing a drop of water on our area. We never heard a single crack of thunder. The dogs appreciated that. The charity raised 22K, so mission successful.

See you next year. 

One of the stand-up paddleboard instructors. His dog also works with The St. Johns Ambulance as a therapy dog. Dogs with jobs.

Country Life

I love living in the country. The sights the sounds and yes, most of the time the scents. Although I must admit there are those lovely spring days when the farms are spreading liquid manure, yup, the fancy name for liquid poop. Nope, I don't think so much of those days. When I walk outside outdoors I could swear we've had a massive sewer backup. I step back into the house, take a deep breath of nice clean air and go outside again. Yup, the farmers are busy. I can only pray mother nature is kind and supplies a bit of a breeze. Blow that stink away. 

Living in the country, I never question where Walt Disney got his inspiration. Nature does not live in harmony. Ever. Critters are bossy. Especially the female birds. Their colouring allows me to tell some of them apart, but not all. Our blue Jays have me baffled. 

The other day, a blue jay flew to our jelly-filled oriole jelly feeder. Normally, he or she is a seed eater. I watched as he took a bite of the jelly, swallowed it, and proceeded to try another. 

I could hear his voice in my head.

"Ugh, that is too sweet.  Why do Adam and George and Lila eat that stuff?

He flew away.
The conversation in my head continues when that lovely blue and white bird gets home. Settling in with it's partner, the loud, smelly toots begin. 

"Where have you been and what have you been eating?" The blue jay mate shifts it's wing to cover it's beak. I suddenly sympathize with them. "I can't even send you outside. We live outside. Go.  Stay away until the rumbling in your stomach stops."

And the blue jay is all smiles as it flies off. It has an excuse to continue to gorge itself. 

See, critters are more human than we give them credit for. 

Squirrels versus Humans

I love my critters. We keep 5 feeders on the go. Yes, that isn't a typo. Five. We have a feeder with a corn mix, sunflower seeds, nyjer, and suet. Then we have a larger feeder at the front of our property with more mixed corn and sunflower. During the summer we also put grape jelly out for the oriel and sweet water for the hummingbirds. The wild critters do not go hungry. The birds make a mess and the bunnies come around and dusk for cleanup duties. Life is good...

But there are days. Squirrels are pigs. Pigs, in that that eat, a lot. 

I was in the kitchen working on my computer as my husband sat in the next room playing on his. 

"The squirrel is back," he informed me.

He'd got up a couple times to tap on the window and 'encourage' the squirrel to leave.

Glancing up, I can see the feeders from my chair. 

The lovely, chunky critter was on the sunflower feeder, filling his cheeks his bulging cheeks to capacity. I'm certain he has enough body fat the survive our long winter months. Now, I admit, it takes a bit of work for the little darling to get to the feeders. He has to climb inside a Christmas tree hedge, get to the halfway point and then jump to the feeder to avoid the cone-shaped apparatus that we have designed to stop the four-legged critters. Obviously, our engineering wasn't overly successful. 

I rose from my chair, walk down the three steps to the sunken living room, and head for the window. Using my fingers, I tap on the window. The little brat just stopped and looked at me. I could almost hear his little mind at work. 

"Agh, you're harmless."

He continued stuffing his wee face.

"Ugh," I groaned.

I opened the window and clapped my hand.

The little fellow changed his position, able to keep a better eye on me, but he had no intention of getting down. 

"Ba-ad squirrel," I lectured. "Ba-ad squirrel."

The dog looked up from her sleeping position on her doggy bed in the kitchen. Hubby chuckled at my pathetic attempt. 

"Ba-a-d squirrel," I continued, putting anger into my tone. "You are a ba-ad squirrel."

The little fellow looked at the scowl on my face, turned, and jumped down. 

"It worked," I informed my husband with pride. I showed a very pleased with myself smile. "The dog doesn't think much of being called bad either."

Only in Canada?

Canadians are known as a very loving, compassionate bunch. I'm a proud Canadian. 

My husband and I were on the way home from town, driving our side road. Normally there isn't a lot of traffic on our road, at least compared to a highway. 

I noticed something on the edge of the road, close to the intersection. At first, I thought someone had dumped their garbage. It doesn't happen very often, but it infuriates me. Either way, I don't want to hit it. 

As we approached I watched that object. It wasn't garbage, but a Canada goose. That intersection happens to have a white line that goes halfway across the road. Almost like a crosswalk. This is not the least bit normal for a side road. Anyway, that crazy, or perhaps intelligent goose was standing by the line, looking around. 

"Smart goose," I inform my husband. "Momma and Poppa taught her well. She is looking both ways before crossing."

Not trusting the goose to dart across, my husband stopped the car, before he reached the line. Within a minute, cars were at all four points of the intersection. No one moved. All four cars remained still as the people in the vehicles watched the goose. 

The critter never moved. 

"This is crazy," my husband informed me. "We could be here all day." He pulled out, and slowly passed the goose while I watched from the side window, ensuring the critter was stationary. We proceeded to go through the intersection. Watching through the side mirror, apparently, the goose decided it was her turn. After all, pedestrians do have the right of way.

She slowly worked her way across the road. Keeping an eye on the vehicles, no one moved. Two trucks and a car could easily cross the east/west intersection without harming the little darling, but no one moved. The goose made it across and the traffic resumed as usual.  

Only in Canada, eh!

Dreaming

Do You Dream in Black and White or in Colour?

No question, I dream in colour. Very colourful and very realistic. Over the years I have woken questioning how much of my dream was factual and how much was my imagination. It’s a trait I gave my character Keeghan in The Natasha Saga. We both wake in the morning and have discussions with our husbands.

I remember one day being thrilled we had the pileated woodpecker at the suet that hangs with the other bird feeder. It was the male bird given the fact that flaming red crest went down to his beak. This is the guy that the cartoon was based on. Crow sized, at 40-49 cm, 16-19 ½ inches for my American friends, he warrants the respect of other birds and the salutation Mr. According to ‘Birds of North America’, there are 17 varieties of woodpeckers. No question, Mr Pil is the bird in charge. The others stand at attention and move over when that giant shows up.

That thrill turned into a thriller in my dream. I can still picture that scene in my mind. That beautiful, historic-looking bird was huge. A 6+ foot creature with midnight black, evil eyes with creepy yellow pupils. Razor-sharp claws appeared from under his massive muscular wings that could rip me apart milliseconds. The beast stood at our patio door, banging his rounded beak against the glass. The entire house rattled like we were in the middle of an earthquake. That bugger was determined to get into our home. He wasn’t looking for more suet. Nope. That beast wanted to devour me. In one big gulp. Trapped within my own home, with nowhere to run…

I woke up with my heart pulsating into my throat, wide-eyed, and pushed myself to a sitting position. Dreams always end so abruptly.

“What’s wrong?” my husband asked.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t move. Hubby rubbed my back.

“It was just a dream. Go back to sleep.”

Just try to get back to sleep after that one. We had quite the chat the following morning about that dream.

Someday, I will figure out how to write that dream into a plot. The question is, a suspense or a comedy. I could certainly flip it into something silly. Who has ever heard of a 6-foot woodpecker? Hmmm.  Add it to the list of the other plots stirring around in my crazy noodle, begging to escape. No worries. I will give my story a proper ending. 

Yikes

I thought I was pretty strong in my beliefs regarding nature until I met an acquaintance. This isn't a person that calls occasionally for a friendly chit-chat. Nope, this person lives close by. A couple houses away. I am sometimes honoured with face-to-face chats with her.

We live in the country. We get critters and lots of them. Deer, wild turkeys, lots of birds, squirrels, chipmunks, you get the idea. Her love of critters can be a bit extreme. Now, don't get me wrong, raccoons have a beautiful face, but, they can be destructive. So can skunks. Given the fact my dog loves the great outdoors even though she sleeps beside our bed, I really don't want either raccoons or skunks nosing around on my property.

This acquaintance encourages both raccoons and skunks to set up house around her deck. I'm serious. Yes, their deck is attached to their house. When I complain about the broken bird feeders, she tells me to stop feeding my birds. Apparently, her feeders don't attract the critters. 

"If there isn't any bird feed, they won't go there." 

Ugh. I refuse to argue with that. I'm not going to stop feeding my birds. Not going to happen. 

She came over a few weeks ago, as spring was ever so slowly springing. In late April, I still expected cold nights and the potential for frost. She had put her hummingbird feeder out and wanted me to put mine out. Not trusting mother nature, it was too early. 

"But the hummingbird needs food," she informed me. "I don't want him to go hungry. I've had him at my feeder."

"How do you know that? Have you actually seen him?" I asked.

"No. But there is poop on my deck. It's so small, it must be his."

I've never fought as hard to restrain from laughing in my life. OMG.  Send for Bird Poop Analysis. As I relayed the story to my husband, it dawned on me. I think our property value just decreased. 

Do You Believe in Fate? Yes or No

I must admit, I do. Fate brought me and my husband together.

I can’t say it was love at first sight. Not even close. He was a client at the bank I worked at and curled at our local curling club. He was a social curler. I had, and still have a bit of a competitive edge. A bit is an understatement. I want to win while I have fun.

So why wasn’t it love at first sight? Well, his wife had a big say in that. Now before you ruffle your feathers, allow me to assure you, we did not break up a happy, unhappy, or anything in between marriage. A greater being had other plans for his wife which is truly a shame. A friend, she was a remarkable woman. My husband visits her regularly at the local cemetery to chat.

A few months after his wife passed, the social put us on a team together. During one of our games, he fell and banged his knee on the ice. My first response was ‘Are you okay?’ Honest, I was sincere when asking him that. I do have a bit of a heart. But the moment he said he was fine, I burst into laughter. He responded to my laughter with a joking ‘I hurt my %&@$% knee.’  I think he was looking for sympathy. Nope, I wasn’t going to allow him to get all sucky. Instead of sympathizing, I howled with laughter. I can be so mean. Then he laughed at me laughing at him. I think deep down, we both knew, then and there, we had something special. A strong friendship, plus.

I found myself a gentleman who still believes in chivalry. What are the chances? I’m not overly romantic, but I do like being treated like a lady. Hubby opens doors and assists with my coat. Sorry ladies, he does not have a brother. I’ve been asked that more than a few times.

Best friends, we make each other laugh. Even going through emotional storms, we bring smiles to each other's faces. I think storms make a person stronger. They make you dig for your emotional strength.  We still joke about that day on the ice.

Fate brought my characters, Stewart and Natasha together. A chance meeting at a river. It was love at first sight, but I wasn’t kind to them. Instead, I test their fortitude with twists and turns and chuckles along the way. I do not allow them to wallow in self-pity. My novel is not a fairytale romance. Life isn’t like that.

Stewart possesses my husband’s wit and intelligence. Don’t tell my husband that. It will be hard to live with his expanded ego.

I remember when I finished one of my first drafts, I gave the electronic manuscript to my husband. An avid reader, I was half expecting him to say, ‘hmmm, not really my thing.’ A polite way of saying, ‘I don’t like it,’ without the risk of pissing me off.  A happy wife and all that fun stuff.  Instead, his response was, ‘This is good, but you can’t end it there.’

The novel took me over 10 years to write. The plot grew, new characters were added and developed. Crises and, well … you’ll have to read it for yourself.

Speaking of reading it, I received an amazing review through Goodreads. It’s a long review so I’ll just give a wee snippet of it.  The review is from Holly:

‘Sometimes I get the rare chance to read a book series or in this case, a saga that leaves me speechless and deeply moved. This series has touched my heart and soul at the deepest level. …Heather Greenis has done a brilliant job as a master storyteller with this saga. Her amazing skills as an author have resulted in a story that will touch each and every reader in the deepest way possible.’

This review tells me, ‘mission successful. I accomplished my goal.’ If you decide to read it, I hope you enjoy the plot.