Ann’s Weblog

Here’s a little dog who has as much heart and dignity as any big dog who comes for grooming or boarding. Mickey is a poodle cross, and her mother is due to have another litter of puppies (by the same stud dog, a Shih Tzu).

I would be one of the best references for the new adoptees, well able to vouch for their temperaments, as Mickey is not the only pup that I groom from one of the previous litters. This gal is stable and gentle with “her” human children… a treasured family pet. Of course lots of credit goes to the people who have raised her!

It has been a lovely day. I groomed Mickey, and a little poodle, Mouse, who has been featured in this blog at other times.

Though officially the “nursery and perennial sales” have ended for the season, NINE trees which were previously reserved were picked up today, and I sold the guys who were transporting the trees the last three of my Colorado Spruce. This is a relief, because I still have to “heel in” the remaining shrubs, trees, and perennials in order to have them survive the winter. I’ve sold quite a few, but there are many left to keep for the spring, also.

The nursery AND the Pet Hostel have slowed down, and the Farmer’s Markets have ended. There is a nip in the air (sorry… that’s rather cliché) and I hope I can get autumn work done before we have serious winter. People are starting to ask about Raggedy Ann dolls again, so I’m already thinking dollmaking, Christmas giving, and so on.

Yippee!! At least two of my three darling daughters plan to come for Thanksgiving!

I’m going to go find my friends in the Yahoo Garden Chat room. The “Yahoo!” network made chat INCOMPATIBLE with Macintosh computers about 10 months ago. For all that time, I was “chatless” though I maintained some friendships via other means; NOW I have purchased an inexpensive DELL laptop and can hang out with gardeners and others from all over the world.

Sometimes my chatting friends ask what I’ve been cookin’: tonight we are having pot roast. Didn’t plan a dessert. Later, I’m going to bake cookies for a care package for a starving relative, to go with many other groceries we will send.

Thanks for reading my blog.

~Ann

Here it is, for those who have asked.

While too shy to wear my open toed shoes to “town”, here are the toes for my public weblog.

~Ann

I felt tired and woozy from the time I got up this morning. It seemed an effort just to put one foot ahead of the other.

I’d been feeling guilty because Gary was outside splitting wood by hand (he’s ordered a hydraulic wood-splitter, and will be thrilled when it arrives!), so when he started throwing it into our basement, I got busy stacking it downstairs. I felt better for getting the exercise.

 Later, when G. went to town to get his trucked worked on, I thought I’d just bloody well force myself to do some of the flower gardening tasks. After digging, planting, weeding for a couple of hours, I set about to cleaning up the mess I’d made… piles of weeds and sod and thinned-out perennials. The  whole task seemed daunting, again, as it did in the spring: “how do the weeds take right over even in places I made tidy such a short time ago?” When I thought about what there is still left to do before freeze-up, and that I seem unable to work as hard for as long, I felt overwhelmed.

Too much, too much, too much. I was exhausted to the point of tears, having not done a good day’s work.

I put the trash from weeding into the wheelbarrow and ferried it over to one of our compost heaps, thinking I’d treat myself to time surfing the ‘net, answering emails and chatting, though the weather was still pleasant and the day, young. As I tipped the wheelbarrow, somehow my shoe caught the corner of a piece of plywood lying on the ground (where I had it for a purpose), I lost my balance and fell upon a “little red wagon” that was overturned nearby. Because the wagon was upside down, the steel chassis was what I landed upon, and THEN the wheelbarrow tipped onto me!

The effect of this fancy maneuver was that I was in some pain from my right hip and thigh, and somehow the wheelbarrow had hooked itself on the framework of the wagon. I couldn’t, for a moment, move or even see why I seemed “trapped”! Considering that I was alone on the acreage, I had to get myself out of that pickle, WHILE completely “losing it”: screaming, crying and swearing. I can’t think of any human who has witnessed such a performance on my part (no, not childbirth).

Eventually, I extricated myself from the mess, and sniffling and limping, made my way into the house. Then, I felt I had truly earned a hot shower, tea, and some TV viewing and haven’t done anything except prepare supper since. I think chocolate cheesecake for dessert helped.

Here I am… hip bruised (though well padded: could’ve been worse!), feeling much less sorry for myself, and chatting to you. It was a “trying” day but no longer a “down” day, pardon the pun. Tomorrow I have more of the same kind of work planned, without the falling down part, and I even have a pedicure scheduled. Ah, certainly life ain’t so bad.

~Ann 

Since I last wrote, I groomed this little poodle. Her owner likes for her to be kept short, and never lets her be cold.

Mindy is a dainty house dog, and one of my poodle clients that I treasure most.

~Ann 

This is one of my favourite customers. Nala is a spayed female of about 10 years old.

While our company was here (okay, I realize I haven’t written about that yet), our three nieces lavished attention on all the animals: dogs, horses, cats. The littlest girls, who are 7 and 9 years, often wanted to walk Nala and Buddy, who is our little old American Eskimo stud. Nala doesn’t really need “walking”, but since I knew she wouldn’t run away when the leash was dropped, I let the girls walk her whenever they wanted.

Nala was always joyful when she saw those young people, and I think they would like to find a dog just like her for themselves. Nala dropped a few pounds while she was here; like many of us, once she lost a little weight, she “picked up speed”. She acted like a puppy a great deal of the time. She frolicked about, sometimes eating up the cat’s food, at times trying to mooch from our outdoor buffets, seeming to have a great time every day. She had some arthritis medication which, as instructed, I gave her occasionally, and I’m sure that helped as well. We miss Nala now that she’s gone home.

While I had the camera out, I also took pictures of Lady, in typical poses…

I need to get on with my day! I slept in this morning and I don’t have the HOURS to weed and water before my first dog grooming customer. I might see you again here later. Thanks for stopping by!

~Ann 

Our Virginia Creeper vine on the porch has already turned red and has lost many of its leaves!

Don’t get me wrong… the weather has been fantastic! It has been very warm for the last few days, with hardly any rain for a month. The lack of moisture is a concern, and we’ve been hauling tanks of water to recharge our well.

We had Gary’s brother and family here for almost a week; now they’ve been gone for a few days and I still miss them all terribly. Our three nieces are 7, 9 and 13, and they seemed to have a terrific time here. I’d write more about that, but I’m getting tired. Perhaps another evening, I’ll find some pictures for you.

Our skies are hazy because of smoke from forest fires hundreds of miles away in Washington. Very recently, the fires have crossed the border into British Columbia, but they are still far from us, although still threatening the homes of others. 

Finally, I’ve found a little time to write to you. Thanks so much for your patience, and for checking my blog. I appreciate your friendship.

~Ann 

I heard something about Andrew today; he told a friend that no one in our town likes him because he’s “too smart”. He IS a very intelligent person, but now I’m piqued because he is arrogant.

Yesterday I wrote for almost an hour in this weblog, and then my browser quit. That is why there isn’t a glowing report about an interesting exchange with this old Hungarian dude already. He asked me to make Blackberry Jam for him, and I sold him that and gave him a head of our own garlic.

I also asked if I could take his picture. I think I took him by surprise, and he said normally he would refuse. I even told him that he would be on the Internet. Friends who witnessed this exchange were amazed that I “got away with” photographing Andrew, as he is very worried that others will find out where he lives.

Andrew comes into our little town on the train once per month to shop and presumably exchange pithy words of wisdom with SOMEONE. He calls me “Lady”, as in, “Lady, that was good jam, but I’d like some blackberry jam without papaya in it, and not as much sugar, and not in those fancy jars, but in bigger jars.” When I gave him the head of garlic, he said that he was going to photocopy some information about the medicinal properties of it and leave it somewhere in town for me next time. Okaayyyy

So this is Andrew, one of Robson Valley’s colourful characters. I haven’t told you where he lives, and I’m told that his Hungarian last name is virtually unpronounceable by we English. Just as well.

About a week ago, I “inherited” a very, very old cat.

An elderly lady in my town had died, and her adult children left behind “Hannah” in a shed, with instructions to a neighbour to feed her. When it occurred to the well-intentioned neighbour that the cat was not thriving, he offered it to me, or more accurately, asked for my help.

When Hannah was brought to me, she was almost comatose. We had three little girls visiting here at the time, and they thought the 21 year old cat was beautiful; they lavished her with kind words without handling her. I dribbled chicken broth in the cat’s mouth, and after a day, when Hannah looked like she was going to live, I sponged her filthy emaciated body gently and dried her. That seemed to perk her up further.

During the week, Hannah mostly slept but got up to eat and drink the “real” tuna that we had for her, canned cat food, milk and water. I thought perhaps that the old cat had a couple more years, or a couple more lives.

Despite our loving efforts, Hannah died this morning. She simply awoke, ate a little bit, and curled up to sleep again, this time for the last time.

Goodnight Hannah, dear old cat.