Okay, so here's the deal

The kids and I are pretty much shacked up at the farm now, and they start school tomorrow.  

Poor ol' Jethro is still at the house, going to work, until our house is sold.

Of course, we'll have to actually put a For Sale sign on it to sell it.  

After that, we temporarily live here until we can find a farm of our own.  

I have mixed feelings about the whole thing, which I'm telling myself is perfectly normal.  Hey, I'm being normal!!!  Wow.  I mean, I love being in the country.  But I miss my little house and my friends.  I really miss seeing my man regularly.

The good thing is, I like my folks, and that's handy when I'm living with them temporarily.  

More good things:

Lucy the Feral Housecat in the Sky with Diamonds absolutely LOVES this big old farmhouse with all its hidden nooks and dark corners.  

Dobby the Former Town Dog is really digging this whole country life thing.  We don't go for walks on a leash anymore.  We go for RUNS in the long grass.  

Bucky hangs with my Ol' Man, driving around in the old truck, scrapping things, welding things, fixing things.  I think they might go to McYuk's or Timmy Snortons every now and then too.

I opened Tribble's bedroom window our first night here, and across the yard, our Little Mare made a snorting noise over by the fence.  This is what we get to listen to at night.  Of course, there are also giant trucks swishing down the highway at all hours, but between jake-brakes we can hear snuffly horse noises.

Barn cats.  

When Jethro is here, he's far enough away from the studio that he can forget about work for a few hours. (I hope.)

We ride every day.  Our horses keep getting better and better.

The kids drive the 4 wheeler and the winter van.

It's not long distance to call my bestest friend. 

Tribble can get violin lessons from her Grandpar.  

Bucky can fix things in his Papa's shop.  

I'm feeling like the weight is lifting off my chest every time I look out the window.  

I'm still facing a heap of troubles, like usual.  Will that ever change?  Does anybody have a trouble-free life?  I highly doubt it.  I am determined to find a way to get my husband, kids, and horses on the same property and at this point I almost don't care what property that is.  

Almost.

The kids are handling this better than expected.  They're already comfortable here, since they've spent a lifetime of weekends and holidays here.  Me?  I'm handling.  

Stay tuned.  There will be more to this new adventurous phase of my life...

A Foot in Each World

As you know if you've been reading this thing for any time, I sort of live a double life. My home is a cute bungalow in a subdivision, in a not-so-small town north of the big city of Toronto. I have a big yard with a brand new barn-shaped shed, some pretty flower gardens, and the best neighbours anybody could hope to have. A few years ago, when looking for a riding coach, I found the Little Valley, where I got my instructor training, as well as making a new and valued friend. But I have a strong attachment to the place I grew up. My parents still live on the old family homestead, as do my two horses. My husband's parents live in town, less than five minutes away. My sister lives in that same smallish town. And my sister-in-law and her family live in the next city, about fifteen minutes from there.

I have dear friends out there and I don't see enough of them. I go to church near there, but I'm not there often enough.

We are the only ones up here in the shadow of the Big City, thanks to the music biz. While I love my neighbourhood, I crave the country, I miss my mom and dad (Yes I know I'm 38 but they're really cool people and you'd want to see them too if they were yours) and I need to get out there regularly.

It's hard to explain to people who don't have that need for the wideness of the sky.

It's hard to explain to people who don't have that strong family connection.

It can be hard to explain that roots run deep.

Honestly, my little patch of suburbia is heavenly. I'm sitting on my deck right now, listening to birds singing away and bugs and my crazy pug barking at shadows. I always said if I had to live in town, it's gotta be here.

But I really love being in the country. I just love it. I feel right when I'm out there. I feel like I can breathe.

The barn at the family farm has names and dates written in the cement. Most of them are relatives of mine.

I have a goal. My husband and I share that goal. We want a farm of our own. We want room for the horses to graze, places to train and trail ride, and drive a 4 wheeler. We want a John Deere tractor to do work type stuff. I want a couple of chickens and a big vegetable garden. Room for friends to stay the weekend.

We want a recording studio in a barn, man!

We know what we want and that getting it won't be an instant step, but a continuation of the steps already taken. We also know that the next year will be really different from the last twelve. This is not going like we expected it would. I always pictured breaking the news of our departure to our friends in town by showing them pictures of our new farm and telling them we're getting what we've always wanted. That'll have to wait just a little longer.

We moved into this house almost exactly twelve years ago, and now more than ever, we've got a foot in each world.

I'm not gone yet... but I'm leaving.

Preparing to take another flying leap. (That's how we do things around here.)

Some of you may have noticed that it's been pretty sparse here lately in terms of content. We all love our critter pictures, for sure, but I realize I haven't posted much actual writing lately, not enough thought provoking material or even zingingly funny stuff.

Although I can usually give you some of this.

He never lets me down.

Anyways, like I was saying.

It's always harder to keep up the good work during summer, when the kids are free of their educational shackles, and our days seem to fill up with... something... I'm not sure exactly what it is that keeps us so darn busy....

Well actually, this summer I do know what's been keeping us busy.

We've been planning some huge changes.

Specifically one big change.

Requiring lots of little changes.

It's something we haven't had to do in twelve years.

I have a lot of mixed feelings about it. Like, some days, I am not sure exactly how I feel about the whole thing.

It's something we want to do and have always wanted and will be really quite awesome but also several degrees of heartbreaking, so yeah. It's been a bit of a brain strain.

But I believe despite some of the less-than-perfect aspects of this big change, it is for the best. It's something we've been working towards for a long time, and even though it's not going the way we expected it to, it'll be alright in the long run.

Before too long I'll be getting very excited about the project.

It's just that I'm kind of afraid to type it in case something goes nuts and nothing happens, or happens differently. Because, people, if there's one thing I can count on in my life, it's that things regularly get strange.

So please bear with me, okay? Things will improve here in Hick Chic world. For now I'll squeeze in a few posts between whatever it is that's keeping me so darn busy; stay tuned long enough and I'll crank out the good stuff again.

Thanks!

PUG IT UP!

It's Dobby's FOURTH BIRTHDAY TODAY!

To celebrate, we're scratching his back, wiping the yuck out of his eyes, throwing him sticks (which he still doesn't think need to be brought back to us) and we're telling him over and over what a good smart dog he is. Best ever.

And, showing off pictures of him with some of his dog friends over this past year.

This is Ruby.

This is Ruby's puppy, Bruno. It's okay Dobby... the kid is not your son.

Dobby lost two of his best friends this year.

Jazz, the pretty dog who taught him how to behave when he was a puppy, and Nigel the cat who taught him about "personal space" both died within two weeks.

But we couldn't have the Pug feeling lonely. Pugs don't like to be lonely.

He has a new cat friend, whom he follows attentively. She even lets him wash her ears.

And, he now has Monty.

Jazz's family couldn't live much longer without a dog, and Monty has been with them for a few weeks now. He's a Bernese Mountain Dog puppy, he's four months old now, his paws are each the size of Dobby's face and he has no clue how darn big he is.

Like Jazz taught Dobby, he's now teaching Monty.

Like, when to back the heck off, man!

And when it's time for a rest.

I think it'll be a great canine friendship! Even though Dobby has topped out at 22 lbs and Monty will likely be, oh, about 120 by this time next year!!

Out at the Little Valley, Dobby runs around with his slinky, super-fast pal, Seven.

Dobby has a hard time keeping up with Seven.

Aren't they handsome, good boys? This is a rare moment, with both sitting still!

The pug's pretty sociable. Recently we went for a visit, where Dobby made friends with Sam the Boxer. Sam's a farm dog. He doesn't get off the homestead much. They darn near wore each other out playing chase!

I think Dobby figures Sam's a long lost relative. With their wrinkly foreheads and long tongues, it must have been like looking in a mirror.

I used to only like big dogs. It turns out, I have a big dog- he's just stuffed into a little dog body.

He's my big dog, small dog, beach dog, town dog, farm dog, barn dog, bed dog (seriously I never thought I'd let a dog sleep on my bed!) and family dog.

All growed up now.

Vicious, dangerous animal

We have invited a lethal hunter into our home. We brought her in willingly and knowingly. She is skilled, deadly accurate and nobody can defeat her. We are powerless.

I mean, she is just KILLING US here! I can hardly stand it! I feel weak! I am no match for her!

I saw her slam a fly with one jump. She held it down between her paws, worried it, and then munched it down. She is possibly one of the most acrobatic, graceful cats I've ever seen, and there have been a lot of cats in my life. I've seen her do a few moves I didn't think were possible. She might be defying physics.

Her most powerful weapon, though... is her irresistible cuteness.

Yep, I'm a goner. She's got me and she'll never let me out of her iron grip. I'm okay with that.

Ol' Bo is going home at the end of August.

Oh, I am going to miss the old goat so much! I know he's got his faults but he's a good horse. He's a pretty good teacher, and he got me through the last half of my rider levels. And I think he's pretty handsome.

He was a fun challenge for me too, because I was determined to melt his crusty old heart, and I'd like to think I succeeded. I just like geldings. They tend to be goofy and sneaky, but I find it endearing. I'm a sucker for a good-looking dude, every time, eh?

I think he's looking good, considering his 19 years. He's been getting good feed and lots of exercise, not to mention a few good solid groomings every week. His coppery sorrel coat glows in the sun. Imagine how he must have looked ten years ago. Gorgeous.
But just in case you get to thinking he's mellowed in his old age, or become content in his temporary home at the Little Valley...

...you'd be mistaken!

I'm gonna miss his grumpy ol' face!

The Man Who Changed Music: Les Paul, 1915-2009

Most rock music fans have heard the name, but know it as in "Gibson Les Paul." The man behind the famous guitar was a musician and inventor, and most of all, an innovator.

He died this week at the age of 94. Until June, he was still doing his Monday evening gig in NYC.

Not only guitarists and fans honour his work, though. His influence on modern music of all kinds is staggering. It's safe to say that without Les Paul, my husband's career would be drastically different.

Les Paul invented multi-track recording, overdubbing, tape delay, phase effects. "Studio trickery" was born!

His whole life must have been like one big recording studio. This is a photo of him at home with his wife, singer Mary Ford. I kind of love everything about that room and wish it was in my house.

We had a "Les Paul And Mary Ford" cassette tape kicking around here awhile ago. Stunning! They worked well together, back in those days.

When we visited the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in January, we had to spend a long time lingering over the exhibit devoted to him. Several of his early prototypes are on display, and they fascinated us. To many observers, it would look like a few pieces of junk, but we got it. That pine plank with a rusty hinge attached to it? Tie some metal strings to it and you've got a neat way to make new sounds. Each new version improved on an idea until he'd come up with his perfect guitar. He claimed he made things because he needed them, and nobody else was making it. So he did.

For me it was totally about my son, at age 7, finding a long thin cardboard box, wrapping elastics around a few popsicle stick "pickups" and cutting a round hole near one end: his first box guitar. Jethro taught him how to play "Seven Nation Army" which cracked us up consistently. Soon the boy had a little Peizo pickup inside the box and we had amplification. Seriously, it was just the cheap version of a real electric guitar. It could be hooked up to an amp and everything. It was hilarious.

I'm so glad my children got a little education in the meeting of invention and music, and that they know who the guy is, and why his passing marks the end of a remarkable life and career.

(this is for a blog buddy) HICK CHIC GUIDE TO GESTATING!

My blog buddy and fellow Four Corners writer, the wonderful JKB, has just announced her pregnancy!

When I was pregnant for the first time, I felt pretty darn smart. Here I was, little me, all busy growing an entirely new human, right there inside me! Of course, this was a few weeks after I got over the shock and accepted the fact that I wouldn’t be riding a horse for a few months, might never look the same again, and would always, forever, the rest of my life, be somebody’s mother.

I’ve done it twice, and learned a few things each time. I know we MOTHERS like to spew advice at every occasion, but it’s not just to show off, honest! It’s because we wish we’d heard it, or because it was such good advice it has to be passed on.

Here’s the best advice I can think of if you’re growing a new person:

EAT. If you have to, eat two of every meal! I’m not saying you have to pig out, but if you are hungry, it’s for a reason. That little thing is growing at a ridiculous rate and you will feel the drain. Eat breakfast and snack again before lunch. Eat supper when you get home and again when your man gets home, or whatever suits your schedule. Carry snacks with you.

A system of eating 6 little meals rather than 3 big ones is going to help you later, when your baby belly is squishing your stomach up under your lungs and even though you’re hungry, there’s no room.

This whole “eat a lot” thing isn’t permission to junk out though, okay? Eat things that are actually food, rather than stuff made in a factory and wrapped in plastic. Eat real food.

DRINK. Water. Drink lots of water. Listen, I’m not gonna speak in codes here, this is the honest truth... you do not want to get constipated when you’re pregnant. There, I said it. Let’s not speak of this again. Go get a glass of water.

SLEEP. Go to bed early, like maybe two hours earlier than you normally do. Most of us don’t get enough sleep as it is.

Especially in your first months, you need to sleep a lot. I was working in an office the first time around, and at lunch hour I’d head into the boss’s room to crash on his couch while he was out. I don’t think I’d have made it to 5 pm without that, but I had to get creative.

STAY ACTIVE. All those muscles will change over the next few months, so keep them strong and flexible. Of course, I wouldn’t know about this because I was ordered to bed rest in order to keep my babies where they belonged until they were fully baked...

BE SENSIBLE. If your doctor orders you to bed rest, you gotta do it. Don’t whine that you’re wasting your life away, or you don’t have time, or any other kind of rebellious resistance. Damn right you see all the dust on the shelves when you’re not allowed to get up. Too bad. Find a good book. Once I made my peace with being a beached whale for the next 6 months (okay five) I decided to just enjoy this time. It wouldn’t happen again until I’m in my 90s most likely, so I settled in with a stack of books and learned how to relax.

PAY ATTENTION TO YOUR EMOTIONS. Pregnancy brings on a whole range of emotions. Feelings you wouldn’t have thought could happen at the same time will course through you, together and then in sequences. Don’t worry if you’re ecstatic one minute and then sobbing. Just let it be.

However, if you feel that it’s out of control, don’t just put up with it. If you’re worried about a nagging emotion, or any kind of obsessive thoughts, speak up. Tell your doctor. Some serious stuff can come at this time. Be honest with yourself and recognize if your emotions are scaring you. It doesn’t mean you’ll be a bad mother - I think it’ll make you better.

NEST. Don’t take on a big renovation project but by all means, putter around and get your nest feathered. Enjoy it. You’re building a home, and I don’t mean the physical building: I mean home.

BABY-PROOF. Your kid won’t come out of you walking and reaching for dangerous stuff, but do it now, if you’re physically capable. If you’re young/ poor enough that you haven’t accumulated a lot of pretty and delicate things in your home, you are that far ahead already! Pack stuff up, give it away, whatever, but make your life easier and get your home ready. (plus making cleaning easier once Jr’s in your life. Not that I’d know...)

MOISTURIZE. I’ve head it said that stretch marks are more dependent on the skin you’ve inherited, but why take the chance? Smooth some lotion or oil on your expanding belly. Even if it doesn’t prevent marks, it’s comforting and soothing. Don’t forget to include your thighs and butt. Yep, you’re going to stretch aaaall over. And your boobs, they’ll likely expand. Just sayin’.

LAUGH. Find a way. You’ve got a lot on your mind, and comic relief feels pretty good.

DEVELOP A SELECTIVE INFO FILTER. You don’t have to take any of my advice. You don’t have to take anybody’s. Filter out what you can’t agree with. I think it all deserves a first listen, but if you judge the advice to be wrong for you, don’t even let it in.

EASE UP ON THE SPENDING. Yeah, I know, I’m just famously cheap, but you know what? Babies need less things than we are currently led to believe. Most baby furniture can be bought second hand (always check current safety guidelines) and there’s nothing wrong with hand-me-downs. The kid doesn’t know the difference and won’t remember! I’m an opinionated little hick who grew up cheap and raised my own babies cheap, but I truly believe that material things aren’t as important as we think they are.

TRY THE PLAYGROUND TEST. Yell a potential baby name across a playground. If you feel stupid, don’t give your baby that name.

RELAX. We’ve been doing this for like, a million years. Take deep breaths and be thankful.

And you know what? I think it’s perfectly okay to feel slightly smug. You are growing a whole new person. Aren’t you smart?

Oh no, not this again!

Seriously, WHEN will the high school nightmares stop? Last night I was my real self, or at least the distorted dream version, all 38 year's worth of me, throwing lunch into a knapsack while the bus rumbles down the road to my lane way.

I am now going to console myself with a nice Johnny picture.

Okay, that's better.

My kids were going to school with me in this nightmare. I'm not sure if that made things better or worse. It was just a whole other level of crazy.

This is how I can tell it's August... and that maybe I have a few issues left over to deal with.

Oh yeah, and apparently Mars is really close to the earth right now, and with it being the ANGRY PLANET that could explain a few things, right? I don't know.

Am I the only one who has recurring nightmares like this? I can't be. Anybody brave enough to share their brain burrs?

Pennsylvania Dutch, Yiddish... we're all family.

We attended a Jewish wedding this past weekend, and it was like being home, only not.

Let me explain. As a Mennonite, I feel a bit of kinship with the Jewish. We are two cultures who put a lot of importance on family, food, and mothering. Singing and worship are linked. We love our grandparents. We are very aware of our history. I can't tell you how many times people have mistaken the appearance of Orthodox Jewish and Old Order Amish.

We have a lot of differences too, significant ones. Mennonite history goes back 500 years... Jewish history goes back further than I can comprehend. And let's look at the stereotypical career choices:

Mennonite = farmer

Jewish = lawyer

Of course there's the Jesus difference.

I didn't feel that it mattered, because I felt welcome there. I love that feeling. When the blessings were sung in Hebrew I got chills of the most delightful kind - ancient, full of sadness and pride and a calm confidence in the possibility of happiness.

The bride and groom are both talented and intelligent and basically amazing... and they're madly in love with each other. Weddings are awesome because they're not a finish line, they're a beginning. It's the joining of two people, two families and a new branch of history being created. I love that.