The Face of Supper

The prairies.  Farmland.

 

Prairie Grasses abound in the spaces between road and crop.

And.  Sadly.  There are cows.  Lots of cows.  Why so sad?  I eat steak.  When people ask what is the traditional food where you are from, the only thing that comes to mind is steak and potatoes.  And there are ranchers in Saskatchewan.

But one day, many years ago, I was driving down a gravel road and there was a cow with its head looking out between the barbed wire fence.  It was close enough I looked into its face and its eyes, and cows became "real."  Now I still eat steak at a fancy restaurant, or when I am at the farm.  I am not vegetarian, or vegan in the least.  But...I started avoiding McDonald's and A&W for more than just reasons of health consciousness...that little face nags at me from time to time.  I started buying way more chicken and fish -- yes they too are living creatures, but I am trying not to make eye contact with them...the cow and I made eye contact and I can't change that.  I started ordering salmon in lieu of steak here or there.  There is a term "ethical eating," choosing products that you find conscionable.  Free range eggs, never foix gras, whatever you set your limits at.  For me, sometimes I look at tasty ribs on the menu and go for it, and other times I just see that little face.  Choosing to eat a little less beef doesn't make that big a difference -- no rancher will go out of business on my decrease, the ozone layer will not replete itself in my lifetime...but my carbon footprint gets a little smaller, my conscience a little lighter as I drive around Saskatchewan and see these critters everywhere.  Just wanted to share them...and let you think whatever you wish.

The Harvest Begins

Harvest is the most exciting and the most stressful time of the farmer's year.  Certainly there is that reap what you sow part -- where you can be rewarded for choosing the right crop on the right land, planting at the right time, with the right aids, and having it become ready, in high quality and high yield with enough time to harvest it before the frost, snow, and winter come.  And of course, it is also the time of year where you can feel punished by nature due to no fault of your own...insect damage, hail damage in summer storms, loss of quality, yield, and dollars due to weeds, late rains, early frosts, etc.  It's a time of watching the skies and hoping for just the right weather and amount of time to get done what needs to be done.

 

It is a bit of a cheat to post a blog on the beginning of harvest in October.  Most people are done already, or wishing they were.  But I am shamefully at least 6 weeks behind in pictures and stories, so will have to slip this in and try to catch up later.

 

So, for you city people, this little unit below, is a grain truck, which my mom loves to drive.  Farms have gotten bigger, so this is used in conjunction with semi's now...but when I was growing up this was the big truck.  We call it "The Root Beer" around our place due to it's A & W colors.

 



The first crop we were harvesting this year were the Meadow Peas.

And this unit below (again for city kids who have never made it out to the wilds of the prairies) is a combine, which cuts the stalks, picks up the grain part, and separates the grains (or in this case peas) from the rest of the plant and collects them in the hopper.  The rest of the plant gets spit back out the back.

As the grin shows, combining makes farmers happy (when all is going well).

I just liked this picture because it shows how large and tall the machinery is when standing by the operator's cab.

In addition to farms, hawks love combining too.  Cutting down the thick crops exposes all sorts of little rodents, and the dinner is made much easier.  I counted 13 hawks scouring the freshly combined area of one field at one time.  They allow the combine to get pretty close, which is amazing since it is big, noisy, and dusty.



Combining days are long days.  The work rarely stops at sunset, but rather is dictated by either weariness, weather, or moisture content of the crop which can rise to undesirable or impossible levels as the cool damp night air of fall sets in.



The end of another pretty Saskatchewan day....for me at least.  The combine kept going after
I left.

s

Old Yards

When I moved to Bermuda in 2009, it was celebrating 400 years of settlement and history.  The current presence of or history of human inhabitancy covers every square inch of the tiny isle.  Saskatchewan is a stunning contrast.  For example, Bermuda is 20.6 square miles while Saskatchewan is 251,700 square miles.  Bermuda's population density is 3,293 people per square mile while Saskatchewan is 4.5 per square mile.  No wonder I like my space.  As for settlement of Saskatchewan....that's a tricky question.  It is known that the Blackfoot, Cree, Assiniboine, Sarcee, Salteaux, Atsina, and Lakota Sioux called Saskatchewan home (thank you Wikipedia for making me look knowledgeable).  However the first European settlement was in 1774, a Hudson's Bay Company trading post. Most of Northern Saskatchewan eventually belonged to the Hudson's Bay Company, but a bit of Southern Saskatchewan was held by the French, and transferred to the US in the Louisiana Purchase.  It wasn't until 1870 that Canada acquired the land belonging to the Hudson Bay Company, and everything between British Columbia and Manitoba fell under the North West Territories Region.  The human demographic changed a lot over the next decade -- the government would give free land to those willing to go west and settle.  These were the homesteaders.  And then in 1874 the Nortwest Mounted Police marched in to establish outposts for law and order.  In 1876 Chief Sitting Bull moved the victorious Lakota Sioux into the Wood Mountain, SK area after defeating Custer's army at the Battle of Little Bighorn.  The Canadian Pacific Railway expanded west in the 1880's, bringing more workers, settlers, and...soldiers.    And in 1885 when Louis Riel led and lost the Northwest Rebellion of Metis against the Canadian government, people were scattered across the prairie once again, this time by the government to quell future rebellions.  In 1905, Saskatchewan became a province, and it's borders have remained the same since.

 

When my mom was a young mother, she collected arrowheads she found still present on the land from generations ago. The churning of the land in modern agriculture has probably ground up any that remain,  What remains now is the remnants of homesteaders, early and later.  The early homesteaders, had soddies first, and wooden homes second.  A homesteader could farm much less land with a horse and plow than a modern farmer must today to make a living, so frequent farms dotted the land.  Most of the old homesteads are gone -- the land long ago foreclosed in "the dirty 30's" or sold to larger farmers as people retired, moved to the cities that formed after the railway moved in, or simply passed on, the land passing to the following generations.  Across the land you will see many solitary stands of a few trees....this usually indicates an old yard, though the houses were moved or simply fell back into the prairie landscape.  You will also see many yards standing from a generation or two ago -- homes, barns, machinery, wooden grainaries built when the land owned and used by a family was much smaller.

 

 

This patch of prairie grass shows the field in the distance, and the natural prairie grass that grows naturally in an unmaintained old yard



This house on that same land was build around 1910 -- a homestead home, quite grand in its day.  My grandparents, Frank and Jean Monette, bought it the 60's, and my mom spent her teens here.  The roof, French doors, and flooring were later removed and reused in the 1980's in some more modern homes as far away as Edmonton.

Water is another issue that Bermuda and Saskatchewan share.  Bermuda is surrounded by seawater, has no rivers or water source available but rain.  And so collection tanks are built below every building to collect water for drinking, washing, etc.  Rural Saskatchewan also must fend for itself, and most farms dug wells down to the level of the water table, and pumped the water to the surface by a hand pump.  This is the well in this same old homestead.

 



Dotting the land are more pieces of outdated machinery.  Left in place when newer equipment was designed and purchased.

Old cars and trucks also sometimes dot the land, becoming part of the landscape itself.

 

 

Interspersed with these now stationary reminders of the past are modern buildings and motion.  Still on this same piece of land, past the old well, the old house, and the old diskers and old car, a modern shop stands and a 1997 Case Combine roars to life at harvest.

 



 

The busy season for my brother now begins in this sleepy old yard.

 



Timeless Skies

 

Saskatchewan.  Our slogan has long been "Land of the Living Skies."  One of the things I was looking most forward to about being home for the summer is watching the ever changing skies, a canvas of light and color above endless prairie.  I was not disappointed -- the night I returned home I drove towards a stunning display of lightning....and into a summer storm of rain and hail so thick the visibility was near zero and I had to pull over.  The following days did not disappoint -- the spectacular Saskatchewan skies that amazed me as a child amaze me still....and I am sure they had the same effect on generations of Saskatchewanites before me.

 

This particular day dawned with skies of bright blue.  The tractor in the picture below was the workhorse of our farm when I was growing up.  She still runs, but this "horse" is basically out to pasture now in her later years....free to enjoy sitting under beautiful blue skies like this.

 

1981 Versatile 555or "Triple Nickel"

And to watch beautiful sunsets like the one that came on the eve of that same day. 

 

The 555 below a colorful Saskatchewan sky

Years before, John Deere tractors were the main beast that roamed the land.  This 1924 John Deere D has seen 90 years of sunrises and sunsets in Saskatchewan....built tough, she is still intact and could be ready to go with a bit of tuning I bet.  I am not sure we humans are still built tough enough to drive her all day, without the comforts of an air conditioned cab, and vibration resistant seat.

1924 John Deere D

The "cab" of the 1924 John Deere D -- metal seat, wheel, throttle.  No bells or whistles but she did the job well.

This 1955 John Deere D had some added features, like headlights which are jutting up onto the horizon.

1955 John Deere 70

Not all Saskatchewan horizon is filled with ancient monuments....there is a whole lot of unobstructed view of the skies here as well.  I have always said there is no more beautiful sunset than Saskatchewan....Bermuda, Belize, Vancouver...I always expected the ocean, or mountains to top the view from my simple Saskatchewan home, but they  ever did.  Take a moment to look at the colors below...the pinks and purples and oranges that sweep across the sky rather routinely here have seldom shown up anywhere else I have been.  These skies that were likely near mystic to the Sioux and Cree remain so today....and will long after I, and even these tractor sturdy old tractors have long gone.

 

 The next morning brought new skies over another some other old friends -- a 1928 John Deere that is still operational, rolling down the street on its metal wheels in the odd parade, and its mini-me...the ever busy lawnmower for the farm.

 

1928 John Deere C with a modern John Deere lawnmore at its side

 

 

Goodbye For Real This Time

Sunday dawned the last day in Vegas for me.  We went for breakfast, laid out by the pool as long as we could, said goodbye to the Edmonton crew, and headed out for one last adventure minus the Dev, who muttered "Vegas always wins..." and stayed in for a nap with one eye on his Vegas prize....the 64 ounce leg glass from Freemont Street.

So as it was, we met at the Aurora in the lobby, and dabbled in a little electronic poker.  Kinda looks a bit like Flanagans when you put the usual faces in place.

The plan for the evening was to get some pictures of the Bellagio fountains, and so we hopped in the cab and headed that way.  One good thing about Vegas in August is that its not as crowded as some of the cooler months. 

Ah, pretty Vegas lights

And 5 years in Bermuda makes summer in Vegas easy to handle.  We stopped for a group photo -- now Joy from Bermuda gave Siobhan a "selfie stick," and this delighted the crowds wherever we went...especially Eileen as you can tell by this grin.  Most of the time we still missed a head, but we had a lot of fun trying, and refusing offers from people passing by offering to take our photo.

We had a great spot to stand and view the fountains as they "danced" to what I think was Pavarotti playing over the strip.

Once the fountain show was over, we started making our way down the strip towards the Cosmopolitan.  Music was still playing over the street like an extra companion, and an oldie but goodie "Queen of Hearts" by Juice Newton came on.  Eileen was bopping and dancing down the street as we sang along (which reminds me that Lizzie was dancing along to the music of a street performer the night before, and soon a crowd was watching HER perform...someone even threw in money so she is officially a Vegas showgirl in our legends).  It was one of those moments that the world slows down a moment, and I looked at my smiling, laughing Bermuda friends and realized that after months of putting it off, this was really it, the last night before time and distance would interrupt our usual and casual unusual and awesome flow of our escapades.  Eileen, Lizzie, and George would go back to Bermuda.  Siobhan would complete her disjointed Bermuda-Canada-US move back to Ireland.  Dev would go back to Qatar, although we always know he will pop up again soon, and I would be off to the States soon (or so I thought at the time).  So the moment in time is frozen in memory, and whenever I need a smile I can pull up these guys, bopping down the strip in Vegas.

Our next stop was the Chandelier bar at Cosmo.  We decided to get some Veuve Cliquot and toast the good times.  I don't think there is a sparklier place in Vegas than this, so it was the best spot we could think of!  So we toasted a good weekend, a good run, and future meetings, and ended our little journey on the same path...for now.

And on the way out the door I finally consented to letting Siobhan buy me something for a birthday present.  We found a vending machine that dispensed gifts...souvenirs, electronics, flasks, watches, and I had been determined all week not to accept Siobhan's offer of a gift.  But....there was a little stuffed dog wearing a bear suit, and when it was pointed out, I couldn't deny that it was adorable.  And so we headed back to the hotel, 2 scots, 1 Brit, an Irish lass, a Canuck, and a dog in a bear suit -- now adorned with lipstick kisses from all the girls and even George...the perfect souvenir :)

Farewell Captain Mark

I was very saddened to receive the news that Captain Mark Whayman of Sand Dollar Cruises passed away in Bermuda early Monday morning after sustaining a head injury Sunday evening.  You might recall Captain Mark from a few of my last posts in Bermuda Castle Road, The Last thing on the Bermuda Checklist, The Last Bermuda Pictures, and it was aboard Sand Dollar that I took the photos for Stalking Cinderella.

Here's what I know about Mark.  He was born and raised in Bermuda, and although he did a brief stint off island for some education and training, he came back and eventually built a life revolving around boats.  I sensed an easy peace in him.  A happiness to call Bermuda home, and appreciation for the life he had there, and a respect for the people and things around him.  That may be a lot to infer from someone you only knew briefly, but I feel pretty confident that I have it right.

When I was looking for a charter, the first place I called was busy on the day we were looking for, but the captain of that boat had no hesitation recommending Mark.  From that I know he was respected by colleagues.  When I spoke with a retired gentleman aboard the glow worm cruises, he too recommended Mark, not just as an excellent captain, but as a friend, a knowledgeable guide, and a nice person.  From this I know Mark had the respect of the community.  When the day came for our cruise, Mark was a little bit late.  A couple of men fishing on the docks reassured us that "Whayman will take good care of you guys," and that they had seen a sailboat coming around the outer edge of St. David's from the road.  I think it was the only boat out there, because the waters we very rough that day and it was a challenging course for him to take to come pick us up.  Mark also had some extra passengers that day -- a family of four that he met in St. George's at supper the night before, had invited to his home afterwards, and out on the boat the next day.  Some business owners may have charged each guest a flat rate and picked up a little more cash for the day, but not Mark, he took us out for longer than he had promised, and charged us all even less than expected....in fact we all paid 50% more than he asked because we would have felt guilty paying the reduced fee he asked for at the end of such a great day.

Captain Mark coming to get us in his bright yellow and blue skiff -- the first boat he owned he told us proudly

On board, Mark was an excellent host -- providing beverages, his own rum swizzle recipe, snorkels and masks, and when we dropped one overboard, he was most graciously nonchalant about it, and bad it retrieved while we snorkeled around the area.  He was a very knowledgeable tour guide, telling us about the history and current information of properties and forts, and he knew a lot about the local flora and fauna as well.  We all had a perfect day in the care of Captain Mark.  However, as I stayed on deck to take several hundred photos of longtails flying above, he remembered that I said on the phone I wanted a picture of Castle Island, and it had been too rocky on the oceans to dock there.  So he invited me to join his family and friends in 2 days as they were visiting the area again and expected better sea conditions.  I got the impression that he was just that kind of guy, who went out of his way for others.

And so on the second cruise, I saw more of this selfless, outgoing person.  The one who offered anything on his boat to anyone, be it food, beverages, supplies, or a camera.  The one who knew most of the other boats in the area and had a wave for everyone.  The guy who smiled as he pulled a sand dollar out between his toes, the namesake of his boat, and gave a little sand dollar lesson.  The guy who led a hike on a remote island where we found a longtail chick on the trail, and peered cautiously at it trying to see if it was injured or ok, and promised to call the Conservation officer with its location.  The kind of guy smiled and waved pleasantly at the family with the dog who were docking on that same island right below the no dogs sign and reminded them that there were no dogs allowed due to the wildlife.   The guy who knew how to find a parrot fish beak in a rock to show his guests, and who enjoyed a day floating in the water as much as sailing his boat.  The kind of guy who invited people back to his house for a barbecue at the end of a day, who watched his neighbours cats and dogs in addition to his own cat, who did modifications and repairs to other people's boats.  The kind of guy who offers you a ride to the airport when he hears you are flying out.  The kind of guy that when you tell everyone about your fabulous day aboard the Sand Dollar that they say "oh yes, he's a great guy, we sailed with him...."

So that's the little I know about Captain Mark Whayman.  I am sure there is much more to say from those who knew him better, knew him longer.  But Bermuda has lost a good son this week, a great ambassador.  May his family and friends find comfort in the many good memories they must hold.  Farewell Captain Mark -- it was a pleasure to meet you.

Captain Mark looking out on Castle Harbour

Viva Las Vegas

The final stage of this road trip....a flight from YYC to LAS (Calgary to Las Vegas).  In the cab between the airport and the hotel, the cab driver told us that the convention in town this week was the Hacker Convention.  "18,000+ registered, and let me tell you, you can pick those guys out a mile away, with the little backpacks and their faces glued to screens."  Siobhan and I had a little laugh, leave it to us to pick "nerd week" of all weeks.  After we checked in, we headed go the little lobby bar, because the free wifi at the hotel was only available in the restaurants and bars.  I don't want to say I go to Vegas a lot (but it is probably exceeds the amount of times I have been a bridesmaid, which is remarkable for any event go do, and interestingly, the two events have never happened at the same time.  I will come out of bridesmaid retirement for a Vegas wedding one day...), but when we sat down at the lobby bar I recognized the bartender.  He did not recognize me though, and to Siobhan's delight, when I flicked open my beloved Surface Pro to let everyone know we had arrived, the bartender said "Are you here for the convention?"  "You're a NERD!" Siobhan squealed!  I did not hear the end of it for the rest of the weekend.

 

Well, Siobhan and I never did make it out of that lobby bar that day.  Eventually "my Scots," Eileen, Lizzie, and George (Lizzie is more of an honorary Scot, since she moved from England but has some Scottish ancestry, but I lump her in there anyway) arrived at the lobby bar.  They had been out touring Vegas all day, and already had some interesting adventures and logging some time at places like the Twisted Kilt....and had a drink on the go on the other side of the lobby, so just popped in for hugs while we waited for...The Dev.  When "The Dev" arrived, he had been in transit for 34 hours from Qatar, so Siobhan and I expected an early night.  However, in true form of the legend that is Dev, something like surviving 34 hours in airports and planes is cause for celebration, and the long island iced teas started rolling.  Our bartender was about to experience the legend of Dev, and the evening was not going to be an early one after all.  Somewhere along the lines, John from Bermuda popped in, who was in Vegas on vacation with family, and a little while later Davey just rocked up, which was quite the surprise since he left Bermuda at the end of July and we weren't expecting him to pop up in Vegas!

 

At some point, Dev started talking to another Australian lad, who was indeed in town for the Hacker Convention.  In the best of Long Island Iced Tea laced intentions, Dev was pulling out all the stops to "be my wingman" and set me up with this Australian Hacker lad.  It was not going to happen. But he was a nice enough lad, and travelling on his own, so we told him the group meets every night at the lobby bar and he is welcome to join.  Still delighted by this hacker convention and nerd line of conversation, Siobhan was delighted to say "I can't believe it you pulled on the first night in Vegas, and a nerd!"  Again, he wasn't really a nerd, just a hacker, but there is no point arguing terminology at 3 or 4am, so I just said "Hey, that's Dev's nerd, thank you very much."  Despite this being an entire 'Act of Dev,' this is yet another thing I will never live down.  There is still lively debate on whether he belongs to Dev or me.

 

Friday morning...er early afternoon...dawned and began with a little shopping.  For once we were not fashion mission orientated, but utilitarian mission orientated.  The strip is not designed for utilitarian shopping, for future reference.  Early in afternoon, Barb and Heather arrived from Edmonton, and we had time to catch up before meeting the group in the lobby bar and heading to the show of our choosing.  Our hacker friend was waiting, and so our group expanded by one.  The taxi driver's were just fascinated with us, because for once they couldn't figure out where the group was from, with a mix of English, Irish, Scottish, Australian, and Canadian accents in the group...and it was even more confusing when we said we were mostly from Bermuda, except for "that guy we just found yesterday," which became the running joke for our hacker friend.  I think he quite enjoyed the humour, which is good, because we used that over and over on him.

 

The show we agreed on was....

 

 

 

...Rock of Ages, and we all loved it.  Loads of 80's and 90's music, the quality of the show was excellent....and they sang Journey "Don't Stop Believing," which is sort of the requisite for any good weekend with us anyway.

 

Pre-show

After the show, those of us still up for an outing made a brief pitstop at the Rock of Ages bar, where we were streamed live (a little too much like my last night at the Hog Penny), so we headed to a favourite Vegas haunt for all of us....Nine Fine Irishmen at New York New York.  This next photo was taken compliments of our hacker, minus solid attempts and hilarity of Shibby and the selfie stick.





 

 

Saturday it was necessary to put in some pool time, with the evening plan being to go to Freemont Street, just to go there, and also because Seether was playing a live free outdoor concert there...awesomesauce!!!  We had to take 2 cabs, and even with the split, we ended up with 6 and so it was necessary to rent a stretch SUV and travel in style.  Here are a few photos from the drive.

 

 



This ride is an excellent investment.  $60 is a flat rate fee, takes up to 8 or 9 people, and he toured us around for over and hour before dropping us at Freemont Street.  He also suggested a stop at a liquor board first so we could enjoy the cruise.  This is definitely the way to travel in Vegas.  Once we got to Freemont Street, we found a streetside pub and got a drink so we could get a couple of chairs, and settled in to enjoy the concert.

At one point I went into the Golden Nugget just for the point of it and put $5 in a slot machine.  This is what it looks like when you win $50!

Dev kept putting his head in the wrong spot for Heather's pictures, and after hearing about it a few times, he just decided he might as well do it on purpose.

Probably the tipping point of the evening was when Dev spotted this 64 ounce beer glass that was oddly reminiscent of the leg lamp in "A Christmas Story."  After that, well....there is a code about Vegas and I will plead that.

At some point a few of those left standing made it to this wheel, the new observation point in Vegas.  They include a few drinks in the ride, which we probably didn't need at this point, but Shibby and I were happy to have completed the original plan, even if it took til 2am or so.