What You do When You Live in The Sticks and Don't Have a Babysitter

What we usually do is wait until the kids are asleep, and then have my mother-in-law come over to watch them, hurrying to get back before anyone wakes up (not easy, because they sleep like seniors do, after midnight). However, Olemaun has just had major surgery. She's doing great, even walked over today to give me a picture the publisher asked for, but not up to wrangling the three little inspirations. So, what to do when the bales need to be brought out of the field?

Cowboy ran the tractor, which left me with his truck and a trailer that would fit five round bales. I promise I'll post a pic for this post soon. Anyway, he had levers to work and what not, so I got the kids, all three of them. All three under six. But, we had a strategy. We waited until dark (which comes much sooner than it did just a month ago when we never had full on dark), I grabbed some blankets, snacks, and (I don't care what you say about the man, he's a mom's hero) some Disney. Whoever invented the portable DVD player deserves a Nobel Peace Prize.

I'll spare you the gory details of the pre-sleep era, but let's just say, I made it through and only lost about four bales in two nights, between our field and our hay stack. We worked well into the night, but we got the job done. Actually, after the first night, the kids said they couldn't wait to go farming again.

It felt great to clear the last bale out. I damn near jumped out of the truck and hollered when cowboy pulled the last bale off the deck. And then, I remembered, we still have the neighbours field (which Cowboy hayed) to clear. Except, he sold these bales to a neighbour who is 20 mins away. Ouch. However, fate decided I need a break. Cowboy had to go to work today, and I can't drive the truck, operate the tractor and babysit all at once.

I woner what the kids will think, looking back. I remember being an angry six or seven year-old, because my fatherwas making me drive the team, or steer the tractor while he lifted square bales out of the field, and it terrified me. It was scared to take the reins, or the wheel, but I look back on it all so fondly. It is such a part of who I am.

Ok, I am off for another quick round of revisoins on my ms. I told the editor I'd have something by the end of the weekend. AGHHH! No, I am sure I will (I think).

I'm back, I think, but I'm not sure if any of you are still out there. Well. a quick recap.

Cowboy made an honest woman of me on July 4th. It was an amazing ceremony and Sergio Leoni would have loved it. I'm sure I will recount and post pics soon.

My picture book is now a fairly lengthy hybrid of sorts, ad a contract is on the table. The publisher called me today to apologize, because the artist I had suggested wasn't working for them. Hey, I was surprised they took my suggestion seriously, and she wasn't that dedicated to the project. Best of luck to her, and I'm glad to have such a great publisher behind me.

The kids are now 6, 31/2, and 2. Middle one still not potty trained. Youngest well on her way. I've inherited a teenager. The first time she got an inch of rope, sh spent all night out with her boyfriend. So, a better name for this blog might be The Barns on Fire, the Horses are Out, Someone has a Stinky Bum, and the Teenager is Missing in Action.

The ms is coming along and I've submitted a bunch of stories to the lit mags. Oh, and I defended my title at the fair in Cowboy (cowgirl) Poetry.


Sorry to be so brief, but I'm off to help Cowboy with an infected horse, then it is down to more revisions on the same ole ms. I'm not sure how long I will be on this blog. I feel like I've out grown this one, but I'll keep you posted (if you're still out there) and let you know when I move.

A Vampire Sucked the Shelf Space out of my Favourite Cynical Jew

Sorry. I know. I'm never here anymore. All I can say is I'm undertaking a DIY wedding, looking after three little ones, writinga novel, Cowboy's been away working and I had a major section of fence fell down the other day.

Anyway, I just need a tiny rant. Today I went to the local chain bookstore. What happened? No Annie Proulx. No Mordecai Richler (hello! Canadian icon). No W.O. Mitchell (Who Has Seen the Wind- who has seen any good lit fiction in a chain store lately?). Two books of Robertson Davies. After that I just got depressed and quit looking. I did notice however that several varieties of classics were on sale for under $5. I also couldn't help but be struck by the fact that there was an entire shelf row devoted to Anne Rice, Stephanie Meyers ... oh never mind, you guys know, and there were more kinds of Chicken Soup than Campbell's has. Chicken Soup for the Hemroid Sufferer? No thanks I'm a down home family gal. Running Your Own Craig's List Companionship Agency for Dummies? Um, I'll take a pass.

Anyone miss when bookstores had variety and taste? I remember just a few years ago where the very same store stalked about 5-7 of Richler's titles, and the complete Depford Trilogy. Now it is vampires and "feel good" books galore.

Just a Quick Thought

Sitting here tonight, watching my son cuddle (or huggle as we call it) with his dad, it hit me. Our children have never been a day without a good cuddle in their lives. If only we could all live our lives that way.

When Things Aren't OK at the Corral

So, I haven't been around for awhile. I know I still owe you all a review of Crabwise to the Hounds, which is amazing! I've been very bogged down. Writing a novel has been kicking my rear. And, I decided to share with you all afterall. It's called, Gypsy Hunting Tomorrow. Warning: not a children's book, at all.

I wouldn't even know where to begin with everything that has happened while I've been away. Ukluk broke his collar bone, our furnace broke the same day, then our pipes froze and broke. It was -30 C, oh, and a couple of days before Christmas. We hung a few ornaments on a fake tree on Christmas Eve. That's just the tip of the iceberg. But, everyone is muddling through with a sense of humour- even the kids.

We thought we were out of the woodwork. However, the worst came today. Cowboy had to put his father's horse down. It was the last living link that the family had to his father who passed away some years ago. No one took it well. I've always believed that a good horse should outlive their owner. Sadly, this rarely happens.

Salty was a great horse. One of the gentlest tempers I have ever seen a stud horse posess. He had a rough start to life. He was owned by a man who had a severe drinking problem, and neglected him. It was a family friend who rescued the foal, having to hoist him up several times a day to aid his circulation, until at last Salty was able to fight back himself and stand. He grew into a fine looking horse with a terrific temperment.

Cowboy's dad acquired him from the family friend. Together, he and Cowboy began to train Salty. Cowboy's dad was not well at this time. He would lean against the corral as he passed on his knowledge of horses to his son.

Cowboy was away working when he found out that his father had died. It was devastating, because they were very close and Cowboy felt like he still had so much to learn from his father.

Salty went to pasture as a stud horse. There just never seemed to be enough time to work with him properly, though he was very loved. He gave us a good many foals. One of which has grown to be quite a horse, sarcastically named Little Guy. He's Cowboy's main saddle horse and carries a perfect heart between his eyes.

The cold has been unreal here and for some reason Salty got hung up in our barbed wire fence. We check the horses quite frequently, especially as we are feeding them bales right now. But, for some reason we never noticed. Then, yesterday Cowboy went to check on him, only to discover teh injury. The cut was not bad as far as barbed wire goes, but it was the wrong time of year to get such an injury. The lack of blood and exposure of the skin caused the area to freeze.

There was nothing to be done. Cowboy washed the wound and warmed it with water. I rounded up some old wool socks and we wrapped his injury. As his pain became evident we knew it was hopeless. The vet said to wait to bring him in, only confirming our fears.

Today, Cowboy took Salty to the vet. The verdict was certain. His lower limb would eventually fall off.

Living on a farm isn't all Sunnybrooke and Green Acres. Cowboy had to put his father's horse down tonight. My heart thudded with dread as I watched him take Salty away. I am sure it was nothing compared to the agony felt by Cowboy.

If you've never loved a horse, I am not sure I can explain it. The house is sombre tonight. It was not just the passing of a horse,but a good horse, a part of the family, and a man's legacy to his son.

Crustaceans and Canines

So, I promised a review of Crabwise to the Hounds. I am happy to report, I have at long last received the copy I ordered a few weeks before the release date. It would seem this is one hot item. I always knew that Jeramy had an artist's soul, but I didn't realize what a genius he was. I can tell you this, he has written a Canadian classic. I need (selfishly) much more time to mull it over. It is brilliant (well, beyond brilliant, but I can't thnk of a more apt word). I will provide a review shortly.

Girl Captured by Aliens!!!!!

Not really. I've had my nose stuck in Authonomy. It is an absolute thrill to find a group of people in the same boat as me, struggling to chanel a voice. And, I'm finally getting that novel written. I feel so encouraged. In fact, I jumped over 800 points in less than 48 hours, and am sitting at 67 (last I checked) after only 36 hours!

I'd suggest the site to anyone, not because of the remote chance that you might beat the slush and be published by Harper Collins, but because of the education it provides. There are some wonderful forum threads, everyone is eager to give comments (I already have about 52), and you can experiment with your pitch. Each writer is asked to write a 25 word pitch (what you'd put in a query) and a 200 word pitch (what you'd read on a backcover). Luring people to your ms is highly dependant on it, and readers love commenting on them.

While you're really just getting feedback from the rest of the slush, I'd have to quote Bob Dylan and say, "you don't have to be a weatherman to know which way the wind blows". I like to think of my fellow slush peers, as being representative of the book buying public (with a lot more understanding of the craft).

Anyway, I have a million suggestions to digest and put to work. I'll be back.