Clickety Clack. Clickety Clack.

So we drove home today through the Fraser Canyon.

Somewhere near being across the river from Keefers, we could see a long train that was sitting and waiting on the tracks.

And I was brought back to my childhood years of when I in fact lived in Keefers, in the middle of nowhere.

Those parked trains were a big part of our wilderness playground.

We'd climb the ladders and peek inside the open-top cars or run on top of the boxcars.

We loved to put pennies on the tracks and collect them after the train rolled over them and flattened them to smithereens.

Many a scorching hot day, we'd steal an egg or five from the chicken coop and crack them on the sizzling tracks and watch them fry.

Though I was never brave enough, (I had just finished grade three when we moved away, so I suppose I'm excused for my lack of courage) but the boys used to hang onto the boxcar ladders and test their stupidity, er... I mean bravery, by seeing how long they were willing to hang on when the train started going again, before jumping off.

We loved counting the cars as the trains whizzed by.
Back in the early 70's graffiti was realitively novel and it was a thrill when we saw it.
There were cars stacked high with lumber.
And tanker cars loaded with various fluids.
We saw many cars filled with pinky red potash. To be honest, I don't actually know what that is. But it was pretty.
I loved the black cars piled high with yellow sulfur. I loved the smell. Ok, I actually loved the taste. Yup. I tasted it. And still to this day I like the taste of a burnt match. Hey, don't judge me.

And next to getting to witness and wave to strangers in a passenger train, I think my favourite were the cars loaded with new vehicles.

While my memories were still flooding through my mind, we caught up to and drove alongside another train on our side of the river today. It seemingly went on for miles and miles as we eventually got past it.

And there were no passenger cars. No new vehicles. No lumber. No pretty potash. Not even any graffiti.

Each and every car on both trains were the same:

Made up entirely of flatbed cars each carrying two seacans.

Miles and miles of seacans.

No Canadian natural resources.

No Canadian passengers.

No Canadian-built cars.

It made me a bit sad to consider the changes that have come to our world in the last 50 years.

But I brightened a bit when I scanned up and down the train and wondered if one of those shipping containers was carrying my Amazon package.

Life. She's a Funny Thing Sometimes.

Facebook reminded me today of this memory from five years ago. When I came 'out of retirement' to begin making money as an artist.

It took a bit of an attitude adjustment to be able to call myself 'an artist'. I always felt like a bit of an imposter or something. Not a 'real' artist.

I started joining fb artist groups and following other artists, including a local super-talent Erin F, pencil artist, who creates under the name "Velvet Lead Designs"
Oh, I admit to creeping on her profile and being a wee bit envious of both her beauty AND her talent. And though some of her subject matter is perhaps a bit dark and/or provocative for my decor style, it has an innate ability to evoke emotion. And I admire that. I dreamed of maybe one day having a piece of Erin's art in my possession.

What I NEVER dreamed was that within five short (long??) years, I would be a step mother.

And not only a step mother, but a step-mother-in-law.

Yes, I am a step-mother-in-law.

To the one and only Erin F.

And a piece of her art hangs above my bed in my brand new house.

Who'da thunk it!

Happy 1st Anniversary BiFF!

Many people refer to their wedding day as the day they married their best friend.

On August 3, 2020 I truly did marry my best friend.

We didn't fall in love and then become the best of friends. We didn't date to test our relationship for compatiblity. Quite the opposite occured. He had been my very good friend for many years when circumstances played out and put him in the position of being my best friend. My BFF. Or BiFF, as I like to call him.

And love just sort of snuck up on us.

And 365 days ago we commited before God, family and friends to remain BFF's forever.

It's been a crazy year.

And I've loved every moment of it!

I'd do it again tomorrow. And tomorrow after that. And tomorrow after that. And every tomorrow to follow.

I love him more every single day. Each day I truly am even more grateful for him than I was the day before.

I am so so blessed.

Nothing looks the same...

When we put the house 'at the farm' up for sale in 2005, it was life-changing for me.

While I loved raising my kids on acreage in the best community ever, I hated the extended snow season that came with living on the north side of a hill in the Hart region of our city.

I convinced Albert that it was in the best interest of all that we move to town after Jed, our youngest, graduated highschool.

Ok, it mighta sounded more like, "Jed and I are moving to town where there is bus access for him and I don't have to drive 30 minutes to get to work, church, groceries etc. Do you want to come with us?"

I spent most Sunday afternoons from December to March driving around neighbourhoods in PG assessing how much snow they had, how many kids hung out in the streets, and where the bus stops were.

We had discussions. I had dreams. I had visions. We toured homes. I X'd off various neighbourhoods.

And on July 19, 2005 we took possession of our "town house" on Sanderson Rd.

It wasn't a dream home.
It didn't even have giant potential.
But it was south facing. It had a shop. And city garbage pick-up.
I was convinced.

It didn't take long for Albert to realize that moving to town was indeed the right thing to do for our current lifestyle. But moving was hard. It was an adjustment. And he wasn't ready to do that again any time soon. While he admitted it was the right thing to do, he adamantly told me that we wouldn't be moving again for another 18 years. (the length of time we were in our house at the farm) I mentally calculated that I could begin house hunting again in 2023.

And sometime about 2017 when we'd been in the house about 12 years and made many adjustments, additions, memories, and renovations, Albert realized that his "18-year plan" was zooming in all too fast.

"I take back my 18-yr plan," he said. "I'm not willing to move again. Ever. I am going to die in this house."

And he followed through about a year-and-a-half later.

So here I am in 2021.

Two years before our original plan to sell our Sanderson house.

And at sixteen years and four days I posted a "For Sale" sign on our home.

My house looks nothing the same. My life looks nothing the same.

Faithfully using the bidet...

So, a few weeks ago I opened a new package of toilet paper.

And I said to my love, "This will be the last package of tp we open in this house."

He wasn't so sure. We have bets on when we move into our new home. June 11 is my guess. He's a bit less hopeful weighing in with June 15.

Here's what the remains of that pkg of tp looks like tonight:

As a precaution I had purchased a backup supply.

But I'll be faithfully using the bidet, and encouraging Jed to do the same, to extend this final roll of tissue just so I can be right. HaHa.

We are getting really close to receiving our occupancy permit. And every day we drive up to the house for a wee inspection. And every day we stand in awe at the blessings we have.

And every day we check the C-19 restrictions.

And we giggle with the anticipation of being in our new home. Our true new beginning. And being able to share it with you.
Soon.
Very Soon.

Free Cheesecake. No Fridge.

I've been craving cheesecake for a while.

JimE sat down to practice guitar tonight and I thought, "I haven't blogged much at all this year. I think I'll order a cheesecake through Skip and blog while he plays guitar."

I've used Skip the Dishes a grand total of 3 times in the past 3 years. One of those was in Coquitlam. Turns out I had a 7 dollar credit off my order. I'm not sure why. However it helped with the guilt.

The nearest cheesecake was from Mr Mikes. So I threw in a sticky toffee dessert knowing JimE would eat half my cheesecake. If you are gonna throw all your healthy eating efforts out the window, you might as well make it worth the guilt.

I left my phone open so I could watch Navjeet's progression while I typed at my computer...

....

At the end of November our new house wasn't much more than a hole in the ground with some cement footings and walls buried underground.

Our contractor consultant suggested we get our appliances ordered. I admit I thought she was a bit bonkers since it was going to be a minimum 5 to 6 months before the house would be ready for them. However, I never miss a good opportunity to shop.

We (the 'royal we') did some research and narrowed down what we did, and didn't, want.

We headed off to Moore's Appliance where we were informed with a casual gesture towards a fridge on the floor, "If you want that fridge, you can expect about July for delivery."

Yeah, that won't do for us. And we headed off to Andre's Electronics on the recommendation of our consultant.

Andre's. Who knew? It's not the first place (or likely the 10th place) that comes to my mind when shopping for appliances. However they offered us decent pricing and according to their computer system our appliances would start arriving in January, and the fridge, the most delayed item, was listed as arriving February 17. They'd hold everything in the warehouse until we were ready. Perfect.

Sometime around the end of March I touched base to confirm everything was here, even though we knew it was still going to be at least 2 months before we needed it - our expected beginning of April possesion date had been delayed. Partially due to our countertops being hung up (no pun intended) in the Suez Canal fiasco, so everything kinda became not such a rush.

The range, washer, dryer and OTR microwave were here. Dishwasher is scheduled for May 5 and fridge for May 21. Ok, decent. We won't need it before that.

Today (May 28) we decided to include a little deke into Andre's on our neighbourhood walk.

Dishwasher is here.

Fridge is re-delayed. Should be here about July 21st. July!!??!

Apparently it's on the same boat that is bringing our Fjord livingroom furniture from Norway that we ordered from the 'quick ship' program at the beginning of February, scheduled to arrive by end of April, that's rescheduled to 'arrive in the US' in July to be assembled before delivery to Canada, that takes about 3 months.

Holy crap, CV-19 has played a number on our 'normal.'

With nobody travelling, they are pumping their travel dollars into renovations and home improvements. Resulting in deliveries being delayed way beyond what would have been acceptable two years ago.

....

Ding-dong

....

Skip has arrived with my cheesecake.

I open the door and take the hand-off of the paper bag from Navjeet.

It smells like spices.

I use my best "white girl" manners and think, "The spices smell delicious and I'm sure they won't affect the taste of my cheesecake."

I open the food container.

And there sits a Mike burger and fries.

I'm not sure how to explain the excitement dashed, while simultaneously being exhilarated.

Here sat what I knew would be a free burger and fries, yet knowing my cheesecake was gonna be another half hour away.

A quick call to Mr Mike's resulted in the voice on the phone saying, "Oh, I'm sitting here waiting for your call. I knew that the previous order had been duplicated. I have your desserts sitting in a bag right here, I'm jumping in my car and heading your way right now. Feel free to eat the burger or toss it in the garbage."

We inhaled the burger and spicy fries before she arrived a few minutes later with our cheesecake and sticky toffee cake (that they had doubled to 2 servings) with a $10 gift card attached, with the $7 credit, making the entire orders pretty much free. This botched delivery helped to ease the pain of knowing we'll be 2 to 3 months or more in our new house without a fridge or swivel recliners from Norway.

Online shopping: The Triple Blessing

I love Christmas. I love all it represents. I love that Jesus was willing to be born to humble parents in an even humbler environment. I love that it brings family and friends together. I also admit I love the opportunity to shop for things to bless my peeps with.

I enjoy boosting my pedometer with steps as I wander trough Homeworks, Gingerbread Toys and Everything Baby & Kids.

I like to think that I support local. But truth is, I support whoever provides what I want at the best price. So I also love the steps that I get in Winners and Costco. I generally resist spending my dollars and steps in Walmart, but admit I'm not completely opposed. And I confess that many, many of my dollars go to Amazon and Wayfair.

These days it feels like Christmas to me.

We are closing in on moving day, when we will be handed the occupancy permit and the keys to our newly constructed home and our official new beginning.

JimE's official job is to work his butt off and renovate this house we live in to prepare it for sale.

My job is to sit on my butt, research, and shop for detail stuff for our new home.

Sitting on your butt to shop is the new reality. We say that C-19 has brought this about. But truth is, while it may have accelerated it, butt shopping was well on it's way to becoming our reality long before COVID.

And I try to do all my eating and drinking at my computer with my left hand so my Apple Watch will register each nibble as steps.

Amazon, Costco.ca and Wayfair all love me.

And every day feels like Christmas.

The doorbell rings. And we play the guessing game.

Is it the coffee table from Wayfair?

I think it might be the loveseats from Costco.

No, I'll bet you fifty bucks it's the doormat from Amazon.

It is just like Christmas.

I get the joy and blessing of shopping and hitting "submit order". And then when it arrives, it's like a second joy and blessing to open the package and see what arrived.

At Christmas you get the triple blessing when you get to watch the recipient unwrap and receive the gift.

This time we will receive the triple blessing when we get to open the boxes ourselves and place the items in their intended locations in our new home.

I don't even know if I have the ability to vocalize just how grateful and blessed we feel.

And though it's hard work - renovating, packing, downsizing, deciding what memorabilia to physically take with you, and which to donate, and which to dispose of all together, it's exciting putting together our home. Our new beginning.

And we are grateful. So grateful.

For what was. For what is . For what is yet to be.