prairie air

duo, originally uploaded by jill y.

It's dry. You can feel it almost immediatly. You realize you have been climatized to the salty dew of Vancouver without even knowing it. The altitude is diffferent in Alberta. You can't seem to get quite the same amount of air. But maybe it's because your nose and throat are drying up.

I love it though. Flat, patchwork quilts, unrecognizable until you get above them. Farmland and abandoned granaries. Wheat. Wild roses growing in ditches. Dry air and country folk. Small towns and simplicity.

I'd like to find the store that sold the paint cans called 'barn wood red'.

Maybe this trip.

without a shadow of a doubt

One of the more interesting and captivating forms of art I've seen recently- shaping garbage or objects into recognizable shadows. It's right up there with graffiti 'washed' into sooty subway walls. Of course, the idea of creating something to look like something else is not new but using different forms in unique ways is always good for a wow, look at that moment. Good or bad or even when bizarre.

a meeting

a meeting, originally uploaded by jill y.

the strongest smartest woman I know

My grandparents, Agnes and Edwin shared a 10 year age difference. I think the 1st time my grandmother saw my grandfather she was something like 12 years old when he brought the Christmas tree into her classroom. The rest is pretty much history when they married when she was 20 and they built the farm on a piece of land bought in 1945 just outside of Olds. I as well as so many others in the family are so fortunate that my grandmother has written the family history down. So, I can retrieve quotes like, "We had electricity installed in 1945 a first in rural Alberta, as Edwin wrote in his memories he signed up for Calgary Power in July of 1945, signing a cheque for $100, leaving a balance of $39 in the bank." Wow.

They built up their little farm with lots and lots of love, starting with a little 2 room house with 2 children (my mom and her brother Ron) and slowing growing, digging the basement by horse and plow, carefully planting the 'shelter belt', adding sheds for pigs and chickens, pens for cows, a garage, a barn, a big garden bigger than the size of most city house lots and eventually a bigger family.

Together they grew, endured tragedies, travelled and loved one another. My most cherished childhood memories are of my grandparents on the farm. But tragedy struck hard and took my beloved grandfather when he was only 64, when I was only 5. My grandmother could have made so many choices but the one she chose was to carry on and make the very best of life.

And that's what she did. After having spent the last 35 years as a farm wife and a mother, she went back to school. Travelling the 1hr to Calgary to take a 2-year course at SAIT, boarding during the week and then travelling home on the weekend. THEN at, 57 she got her FIRST JOB. I'm sorry, but if that doesn't make her your hero, what does?? She continued to work until retirement, but that didn't exactly stop her either.

I remember once travelling to Europe and phoning home to let my mother know I was going to Morocco on my own. I asked her if anybody else in the family had been there before. "Oh yeah, your grandmother has been there." was the response. Well my grandmother has been to the Great Wall of China, the top of the World Trade Towers in NYC, walked down Bourbon Street in New Orleans, travelled on a camel at the Great Pyramids, and seen the polar bears in Churchill. I think she's been to the 7 wonders of the world and back around again. Incidentally, I am going home at the end of June only to find she'll be off exploring Labrador!

And while she wasn't travelling, she was maintaining the farm. She stayed there for another 30 years and I had an idyllic childhood because of her. For all the other 'stuff' that was going on, there was always the farm. And it was filled with lessons in making bread and cinnamon buns. Learning to sew, to knit, and to crotchet. I had handmade dolls and sweaters, hand knitted blankets and socks, sewn quilts and lessons in making slippers. Lessons in learning to drive on country roads just like my mother and I stayed in the same room my mother grew up in. Woke up to the perfect porridge in the morning, had the creamiest shortbread the night before. Summers of wheat fields and peonies blooming in the garden, family gatherings and reunions. I have had a lifetime of more than excellent memories and lessons, and love rolled up in one perfect Grandmother.

Now, she has moved on to a new chapter. A condo in town, a gathering place downstairs, a downsizing of furniture and a new view. I know I spent all last week doing 'ode to my mom' segments but none of that would be at all possible if it hadn't been for her mom. This is Agnes. My Grandmother. The smartest, strongest, most independent, creative, courageous, travelled and wonderful person I know. She has bravely embraced all of life's adventures, took the road of strength, resilience and patience whenever she could. She is by biggest hero, my best example, and without a doubt the most beautiful woman I have ever known.

Happy Birthday Grandma, I love you very very much.

new cars on the drive

It's that time again to revel in the streets. To experience those by-gone days again when streets were boulevards full of strolling happy people rather than disguised secondary highways coursing through neighborhoods. Leave the car keys at home and come to Commercial Drive for the 2nd annual Car Free Commercial Drive Days. And if you can't make this one, there's another one next month!!

the new cars on the drive, originally uploaded by jill y.

sad 'cause she can't eat poutine

sad 'cause she can't eat poutine, originally uploaded by bess grant.

This my friend Bess' adorable baby Desiree. Bess, on the other hand, is starting her own business on how to name a photo so you bust your gut laughing.

the dress

smokin

I'm sorry for the crimpled and ratty condition of this photo. I've been sleeping with it under my pillow, gazing wistfully at it at night.

Haha. Not really.

This is my gorgeous mother at her high school graduation. My sister and I used to play dress up in the dress and those heels, which were dyed robin egg blue-to match the dress. We used to tramp down the gravel driveway of the farm in my mother's old shoes and clothes to the secondary highway and wave at people as they drove by. I'd really like to find one of those people that witnessed that spectacle.


Really, it's a godsend that dress survived and luckily I still have it. I measured the waist recently.

My mother had a 22" waist at her high school graduation.
I don't know what happened to the taira or the gloves but if I had them now, boy oh boy..

Anyway, this is the last of my 'ode to my mom' posts in celebration of her birthday this past June 6th. Thanks Mom for being:
-so gorgeous
-so smart
-so playful
-so adventurous
and
-so perfect

REALLY!

Lots of love,
me

mother's know best

I hope Mom is OK with me blogging this. It's just too wholesome not to share.

Cook brown rice as follows:

1:4 ratio of brown rice to water with a little salt in the oven at 350 degrees for 1 hour. (1 cup of rice)

Sauté some garlic and onion in olive oil, add some spinach, the cooked rice, and 1/2 can of kidney beans and a little curry powder. Enjoy for lunch all week.

Very healthy - a complete protein.

quality care aka my 500th post!

Mom, originally uploaded by jill y.

Nobody really looks like this in person, I'm guessing. I mean, I wasn't there when this was taken and I wasn't even born then, but I can't imagine this is how my mother looked in real life. It's kind of surreal how narrow her shoulders are and how she doesn't really seem to have any arms. Really, I think she looks like a mannequin from a Sears catalogue circa 1967, modeling the latest designer nurse fashions.

Ha ha. Sorry Mom, I know you'll read this.

Ok. On to more serious matters. As the ongoing ode to my mother in honor of her birthday last week, I'd like to publicly mention that my mother has her RN, BSc and MA and graduated from the University of Alberta with distinction. That means she is really really good and really really smart. And she did this while raising me and my sister and possibly my father as well (I can say that because my father doesn't read my blog.) AND she was working full time. Yes, I meant it when I said she is really really good and really really smart.

One fond memory is that my mother, who despite ALL the things she had going on, would take me and my sister (we were probably 4 & 7 years old) to Hub Mall for cheesey hot dogs after torturing us with sitting quietly at one of the University library's (she was studying for her BSc at the time). I remember all the colored shuttered doors of all the apartment windows that lined the 'mall' on both sides, and getting that cheese dog with relish. I remember her in her 70's leather trench coat with fur colar bending down to hand me the cheese dog and it was all that mattered to me. But now I know that what mattered to my mom was making sure her daughters had dinner and were happy and that she got her photocopying done.

Thank you mom. For the lifelong years of patience, making sure I was fed and happy and never letting those things keep you from doing the things that were important to you. You're the best mom to me for it.

Lots of love, Jill

snowmates

snowmates, originally uploaded by jill y.

Sometimes when I look at these old pictures of my mother, I find it hard to believe she was a rambunctious child that got covered in mud or snow. But thankfully for early photography, her inner child has been documented and I have the truth.

So thanks Mom. For being all that you are. Studious and smart in horn rimmed glasses and playful in mud and snow. Sometimes, it helps to make the rest of life make sense.

xoxo
Jill

Bonnie and Clyde

Bonnie and Clyde, originally uploaded by jill y.

That's my mom and her older brother Ronald. My grandfather was building their new house and started digging the basement in one spot. He changed his mind and moved to a new spot. The hole was filled with water and well..the rest has been documented here.

Now, my mother wouldn't dream of a mud bath.

Hi Mom!! I love you!

Jill

ode to my mom #2

To get rid of useful things when discarding inessential things, you throw the baby out with the bath water. My mother, bless her heart, has chucked the baby at least once in my life.

My mother is not sentimental for a lot of things.

She once explained the reason for this from having grown up on a farm. You see, there were always chickens getting their head's lopped off and cow's being sold to the butcher. Baby kittens and baby birds regularly fell ill and died. At some point you just don't care anymore, I guess.

Well, this unsentimentality for some things landed our household under fire every Spring. It was like the cull of random items and her sweep of the house was ruthless and unforgiving. I have been particularly tortured and traumatized by one particular clutter detox when my mother threw out a favored and adored sandal that was separated by it's mate that was safely ensconced in my room. These were no ordinary sandals. They were flat and had criss-criss leather straps over the top of your foot and then criss-crossed up your ankles. I loved them. And because I left one at the front door and one in my room, the baby was thrown out with the bath water. I think I held on to the surviving one, sleeping with it under my pillow (crying myself to sleep), hoping and praying each night that it's mate would miraculously return

But I digress for now I am blessed with the same skill and unrepentant eye to toss out the riff raff, the unused, the under appreciated quickly and swiftly to the curb or at least to the nearest thrift store. I do it now without remorse or reflection. Haven't looked at that in 6 months? GONE! And today, my possessions are dearer, more appreciated and valued. So, Mom, while I longed for my gladiator sandals, misguided that they were a ticket to my popularity or value, I thank you now for the ability to cut my losses and move on.

xoxo
Jill

By the way, my mother is 1 year old in this photo. I'm not sure why she's having a bath in a giant tin bucket but I hope it wasn't something they did all year round. It can get pretty cold in Alberta in December. Update: Apparently that giant tin bucket was the family bathtub. See my mother's comment. Now I am utterly surprised there isn't a picture floating around of my mother in hunting gear with her fresh killed dinner.

ode to my mom #1

I think my mom was so cool.

She had those horned rimmed glasses and wore sweater sets and Capri pants. And look at that skin. And those features!! I'd like to publicly thank my mother for taking the time to pass on her good genes. Because, you know if she hadn't.. well there's no telling the calamity that wouldn't have occurred had I not been born.

She also went to a high school in the country and lived on a farm and back in those days, after she was done feeding the chickens and milking the cows, she'd ride to school on one of those kind's of bikes that are so cool now because they're so retro. God, she must have been such a sight- riding down the country road with her little straw basket, packed lunch, milk in a glass bottle and those black and white shoes you always see in old movies. And just so, you know, despite her age, she is not vintage or retro and is as hip as she ever could be. However, thank god she's changed her hairstyle. That would really date her.

Thanks Mom, for being so fabulous.
xoxo Jill

eco friendly mother's rule!!

you can take the girl off the farm, originally uploaded by jill y.

just so you know, my mom looks GREAT for her age

Happy Birthday Mom!

You’ve planted all the good things
that gave our lives a start.
You’ve given lots of sunshine
and nurtured us with heart.
Now you’re taking courses
where the plant names might be tough.
With all the tests you’ve taken
you might have said “enough!”
But you made the very best grade
with not one answer wrong.
A true test of your passions
which will last a lifetime long.
We think you’re super fabulous
you’re following a dream.
You have the best ‘mom qualities’
and encourage self-esteem.
Our mother kept a garden
And hardly seemed to fuss
Hope today you feel the love
reflected back from us.

Love from the daughters!

We have a gift certificate for you at Parkland Nurseries and Garden Centre to help set up your first semi-professional garden.

Go crazy!

PS. Catherine gets the credit for being the poetic one. Stay tuned all week for the "Tribute to You" posts.

and carry a big bag

We had a glass of red wine on the Art Gallery patio. I guess it went straight to our heads. We went into the Art Gallery gift shop and in less than 5 minutes both walked out with Matt & Nat handbags. Hers is called Queen, which is ironically very fitting.

And before anybody thinks that a small herd of cattle were sacrificed for our wanton fashion pleasures, these beauties are made of synthetic leathers and they are entirely vegan.

So there.

fashion disaffectation

Disaffectation, originally uploaded by jill y.

take off your top hat and gloves

top hat and gloves, originally uploaded by jill y.

I got an email today saying the Hat was closing. The Hat, as was generally known, was the longest operating restaurant in Edmonton, having opened its art deco door in 1912. According to this, it was also the longest cafe in Alberta. And I believe it having schlepped burgers and milkshakes there for a while. I wish I had a good shot of the inside. It went straight back. Booths lined the wall each with a little juke box. Back then they also had all these original old movie posters that they restaurant would get from the Paramount theatre next door. I bet it was really something something back in the 40's and 50's. Go see a flick at the Paramount and then grab a booth at the Hat. Jeannie was the tea leaf reader for probably 20 years. And that was the thing to do: Go to the Hat and have a plate of fries and get your leaves read.

I was a waitress there when I was about 19 or 20. I had the back 20 booths or so. It was dive. A real sketchy sketcherama. I remember these insanely steep stairs that went down into the basement where the bathrooms were. No amount of scrubbing would ever get that place clean. Even the spoons were greasy but people ate there all the time. Regulars would come in for coffee. Punk and teenagers sharing plates of fries and ketchup. Breakfast was served all day. I'll never forget the time I ate a burger on my break and ended up in the hospital a week later with E-Coli bacteria. I got fired for being "unreliable" because I had been sedated with Demerol, close to death and unable to call in.

I used to know these 2 guys that would come in and have fried egg sandwiches and a side of pancakes every Saturday. Once they wrote me a poem on a napkin as a tip. I kept it all these years:

Ode to the Hat

Haven, sweet haven
this chicken tastes like raven.
And the soup, oh the soup
such a swill, I am craving'.
Pour me a coffee.
Cut me a pie.
Fill my troph in this sty.
Let the music fill my heart
as I vomit up a tart.
No, but really we just jest
for in our eternal restaurant quest
for fine cuisine and service best:
We found a place our soul may rest.
But that was never so before,
this place pack then was such a bore.
A dreary luncheon it sure was
and that is so because because
there wasn't Jill and her cute fuzz
Oh, such a girly there never was.
Thank you Silk, for your warm magnesium milk.

Kisses, Brett and Geoff

and on the back:

In a world that can do nothing but hurt,
these pancakes will exist with a quick squirt.

That pretty much sums it up. So long Silk Hat.

travel plans

transportation, originally uploaded by jill y.

I'd like to start June off by saying my legs really hurt. Today I woke up to find they had been reconstructed out of Popsicle sticks and rocks. Very inflexible and heavy. However, according to my commute logs on The Bike to Work website, I have travelled 64.63 km this week. So, I'll try to ignore the fact that my joints feel like they've been glued shut.

Wish list: a pair of cyling gloves to ward off the gallons of sweat pouring out between my fingers and the useless attempts to wipe them off on my shorts.

tiny worlds

tiny worlds, originally uploaded by jill y.