Just before I left Mena this spring, I laid down a whole bunch of scratch tracks at a friend's music studio. He was going to give me a deal on some demo tracks so he could familiarize himself with his system, since he was just kind of "getting into" recording. Unfortunately, things in his personal life went a little wonky after I left, and he never really got to it. However, another mutual friend of ours, talented musician Richie Owens, fooled around with the songs and came up with a few interesting renditions that basically built on my scratch piano and vocals that I left.

This is a song I wrote for Jason a few years ago. In my head, I was hearing a Disney-esque arrangement of a full orchestra, like something you might see in a musical. (Yep, I'm just a wee bit influenced by the Musical genre.) Obviously, Richie didn't have that kind of a budget to work with. When I listened to this Reggae version, though, I laughed out loud--it was so creative and original, and I would NEVER have thought of doing it that way in a thousand years--but I love it!

Yesterday, I spent the day finally setting up my MySpace page, but I set it up as a musician so I could post and share my songs easily. Go over there and find this song, and feel free to check out the other ones I have posted while you are there. ("Rock Me, Baby" and "Dancing With Daddy" are two other more recent songs that I finally got recorded and are a couple of my favourites.)

Enjoy!

Love Song To Remember
Words and music by Talena Winters

I think I've tried about a thousand times to write a song for you
But every time I try the notes fall flat, and the words just can't get through
What can I say that hasn't been said a thousand times before?
How can I explain the way I feel with only a few notes and chords?

But maybe there's a chance that I can get it right this time
Catch the rhythm of our dance and capture it inside a rhyme
Hook the lyrics of romance and reel them in upon a line
And make this a love song to remember

Never knew that it was possible that each day I'd love you more
In the movie of a life, love is the score
We started with the solo violin, a melody so sweet
One by one, the instruments come in--now we have a symphony.

And maybe there's a chance that I can get it right this time
Catch the rhythm of our dance and capture it inside a rhyme
Hook the lyrics of romance and reel them in upon a line
And make this a love song to remember

Like a song the charts just can't ignore
Your love leaves me satisfied, and wanting more.
Maybe there's a chance...

And maybe there's a chance that I can get it right this time
Catch the rhythm of our dance and capture it inside a rhyme
Hook the lyrics of romance and reel them in upon a line
And make this a love song
And make this a love song
Make this a love song to remember

I get very frustrated during this season. As someone trying to live out my faith in Yeshua (Jesus) the way that He would have me do, I am very saddened to see so many celebrating a festival that is only nominally in his honour, and which has origins that are surprisingly dark. Each passing year, this holiday gets more difficult for me to accept and even tolerate. For anyone wondering about where the many traditions of Christmas actually came from, and what the Bible really has to say about it, I recommend reading the following article.

The Shocking Origins of Christmas: Should Christians today celebrate this ancient festival? Many today may think it is all right, but the opinions of men are not our standard or authority. What does the Word of YEHOVAH God itself say about this matter? It is a very serious question. Is it all right in the sight of YEHOVAH for men to take pagan customs and traditions, and to observe them, calling them "Christian"? Is it all right to merge and combine PAGAN practices with the truth of YEHOVAH God?

According to the prophet Malachi, YEHOVAH does not change (Mal.3:8). His laws and commandments are eternal (Psa. 111:7-8). Does YEHOVAH say it is all right to observe the traditions and customs of the pagans?

May you and your family be blessed.

The first time my dad came to visit us in Peace River, he commented on the number of "oversized" people he noticed. It wasn't his imagination--Peace River has the highest obesity rate in Alberta. I am not sure why, exactly, because there are plenty of opportunities to be active. I have a few theories, such as how long and cold our winters are--it does not encourage getting outside much in the winter. When I lived in town, I remember being quite frustrated with the fact that we lived in a small neighbourhood on top of a hill and the snow was not usually cleared from most people's sidewalks, making a winter walk with the stroller nearly impossible. (I tried once, and ran into a snow-hidden pipe sticking up out of the sidewalk with the front wheel of the stroller. I had had the wheel locked so it would be pushed more easily, and this broke the lock. Grr.)

Interestingly, the first time Mike came up and visited us in Peace River from Arkansas, he couldn't believe how skinny we Canadians were! I was a little amazed, considering that there were way more people here that looked a little "fluffier" in my eyes than where I had come from. However, after moving to Arkansas, I understood why he thought that. It truly seemed that people down there that were fit and thin were in the minority. Teenage girls would walk around in low-rise jeans and cropped shirts and rolls of fat hanging over the waistband. To me, it looked awful--but if all your friends are in the same shape, and doing the same thing, I guess you wouldn't realize it, would you?

Jason and I were probably both at the heaviest weight of our lives last winter--Jason, thanks to the desk job he had had for the past few years, and me, thanks to several years of lowered activity and a summer of Tim Horton's bagels. We went to karate to try and change that. When I made comments about how out-of-shape I was, people in the class would laugh. I honestly started keeping those things to myself, because I really didn't have as far to go as many of the others there.

It seemed that many teenagers (especially girls, for some reason) were well on their way to a double chin by the age of twenty. Wal-Mart was especially bad. (It is here, too, for some reason.) I think it's the motorized carts--it always made me think that if they would get off the cart and actually walk around to buy their groceries, they might find they don't need it!

I am not relating this to gawk in incredulity. I actually found it rather sad. I started asking why?

There were a few answers that I guessed at. For instance, the one (and ONLY!) time I tried to buy a roast from an actual grocery store, I went to the only two in town and could not find any fresh-cut and butchered meat. They had all been pre-packed and injected with a solution--in other words, this is inferior meat, raised on inferior feed in an inferior environment, and they were trying to mask that by adding some juice into it. There are a lot of chicken barns in that area, and I tell you, being raised in one of those is no way to make a happy chicken. If you've ever driven by a commercial feedlot, you may not ever want to buy a pre-packaged roast again. But most people do not even think about where their food comes from--and if your only option is to buy garbage (or you don't know that you could find good food from your neighbour down the road if you only asked), then you eat the garbage and don't even realize that it IS garbage.

In fact, less people there seemed to be aware of how what they ate could affect their health. Or, if they knew, they didn't care. Some people seemed to be afraid to know. Or offended that anyone would figure that what they were doing might be the reason they were slated for cancer or diabetes or obesity in only a few years (if it wasn't already too late).

But, on the other hand, I also knew many Albertans that maintained similar lifestyles to the Arkansans I knew, yet were not as overweight. Why not, I wondered? Could it actually have something to do with being cold for so much of the year?

Not long ago, I came across this little blurb that may support that idea:

(Wise Traditions, Summer 2009): Brown fat is a type of adipose tissue which has the sole purpose of expending energy. Biologists once thought that brown fat disappeared after infancy, but new studies show that most adults have unexpectedly large and active deposits of this calorie-burning fat. According to scientists, the only safe way to activate brown fat is to stay chilly, right on the verge of shivering, for prolonged periods. This causes the fat to use up calories to keep us warm. As expected, leaner people have more detectable brown fat than overweight people. Studies show that stimulating the production of brown fat in mice--which can be done by injecting them with a growth factor called BMP7--makes them resistant to gaining weight or to developing diabetes when fed a high-calorie diet (Washington Post, April 9, 2009). Naturally, scientists are looking for ways to increase brown fat in humans--by injection or pill--the typical reductionist mentality. What would be really interesting to know is what kind of nutritional support allows us to carry large amounts of brown fat from infancy into maturity, so that we know how to ensure that lucky condition of being able to eat lots of food but not gain weight."

Well, to answer that last question, I could look at my paternal family. My dad has seven brothers and one sister. Not one of them are obese. Some of them have a few extra pounds around the middle, now that they are getting older, and that's it. Judging from the diets they were raised on, it involves plenty of farm-fresh meat, raw milk and butter and cream, fresh vegetables, and plenty of work involved to grow and produce your own food.

After my cleanse this spring, I managed to drop 8 pounds, but then gained a few of them back on the trip up here and in the summer months. However, I am now back to a trim, healthy weight that I am quite happy with. I like how my body looks. And I like the full-fat food I eat. Yes, I am much more active than I have been in several years--which I love! But this article got me to thinking...

Apparently, there ARE perks to winter! Maybe I shouldn't be in such a hurry to build an airtight house--apparently the draughts are keeping me thin! :-)

On Tuesday, Noah was sitting at the lunch table.

"Look at me, Mom!" he exclaimed. I glanced over and saw this:




"I'm a turtle!" he said.

Then he went on to explain how turtles pulled in their heads and boots when they were sleeping. He gabbed for a good ten minutes.

I think God gives us children to remind us what it is like to be filled with wonder. If we have forgotten, they teach us how again. Then it is our job to help them keep it.

A few weeks ago, Jason was helping me do dishes when he casually brings up the fact that a kind German couple that was selling some Malamute/Shepherd X puppies offered to give him one.

You may recall that when we got Shiloh, I was trying to get a dog well past the puppy stage. This was for two reasons: one, we needed a dog mature enough to actually defend itself--and our property--from the roaming wildlife. And two, PUPPIES ARE A LOT OF WORK!!

Now, although we already have a dog that is good on the defensive line, there were new concerns: said already-owned dog still needed a lot of work and training; our yard had a lot of stuff laying around in it that I didn't want to get chewed up, but it wasn't within my jurisdiction to do something about it (nor did I have the time); although the puppy was already a good size, we really didn't have a spot for it to stay warm in the cold weather that would soon be upon us; plus, this dog would be BIG, with an appetite to match--big $. I didn't say much at the time, though. Jason already knew how I felt about it.

Two days later, on a Saturday afternoon when we were "out-and-about," Jason casually suggests that he thought we could take the kids to look at the puppies. Not to get one or anything, "just for something to do." Right. I figured he thought one look at those puppies would melt my heart. They were pretty cute, alright.

However, we didn't have a puppy in the van on the way home. We had an elephant.

We finally did discuss it, though, and the concerns were addressed and dealt with as best as could be. Jason agreed that this would NOT be an inside dog (I hate dog hair on everything) and I agreed that he could get a puppy.

The next day he brought it home after work. The first thing he did was put it in our front door! That lasted long!

Well, he has been an outside dog for the most part. However, last weekend, with the temperatures hovering around the -40 mark, all the animals (except Shiloh) spent most of their time inside.

We have now had Koda for about two weeks. He has a sweet personality, and he has grown a LOT already.



As puppies go, he actually hasn't been too bad so far. He gets along with the cats (well, not Sumi, but she doesn't get along with anybody!) and he is pretty smart. He made a few messes inside, but I think he's learning about that, too.

We are all glad that the super-cold weekend has passed--the temperatures stayed down there for about 5 days. It felt like 3 weeks. Thankfully, we are back up to right around freezing temperature.

That means the dog is BACK OUTSIDE!!

The day after I went to get Sumi, I was supposed to pick up a mother cat and her two six-week-old kittens, a good forty-five minute jaunt away. The plan was that they would be outside kitties, keeping the general mouse population in check around the yard.

I packed all the kids in the van and drove a few miles before pulling over and calling the owner back for directions, since the cell phone service at our house is beyond bad. (One of the "perks" of living at the edge of the wilderness, I guess!) I was a little chagrined to find out when I called her that the mother was no longer part of the package, as the owner's daughter had a weeping fit when she found out about it. However, since we were already en route, and the kids were SO excited about getting kittens (okay, I was excited, too), I decided to go for it, anyway.

The plan would have to be revised, somewhat. These two kittens were too small to be put outdoors on their own just yet, so they would need to be inside for several weeks, at least. You can imagine how thrilled my feline-allergic husband was when he came home that night to find that the inch he gave was being pushed to three miles with the new additions!

But they were so CUTE!

Of course, being kittens, they hadn't learned their manners yet, either. Oh, yes, they were very friendly and social, (and were already litter box-trained) which we all loved, but they also did some not-so-lovable things. Such as climbing up the furniture with their claws (well, they were too little to just jump up, right?) And tearing the batting out of the inside of our nice reclining couch. And climbing up the inside of the couch with their claws! And chewing on cords. And digging in my houseplants. And pulling the difficult-for-humans-to-access television cord out of the wall.

I loved having them in the house, actually. They were very entertaining, and I'd never had a house cat before. Not only that, they actually came and had naps in your lap, and enjoyed being petted (unlike Sumi-the-sociopath). However, after several weeks of coming home and having his head stuff up immediately, Jason spent an entire weekend building them an insulated cat house and they then got to move outside.

It took them a bit to adjust. They actually were able to climb up the weather stripping on our front door and get on top of the trailer. I rescued them once, but the next time they did it, they were on their own. Actually, Simba injured his paw while jumping down, so he cured himself really quickly. He limped around on that thing for a few weeks. Nala decided it was no fun up there by herself, and by the time Simba's paw had healed, they had both found better, safer ways to get away from Shiloh.

Yes, he was the real reason they were so desperate to get to the highest point they could find. He just wanted to play, but he was about 8000 times their size. The poor little tikes really had no defence against his ginormity. Simba, the feistier of the two, was pretty funny to watch as he stiffened up and spat ferociously, but Shiloh just seemed to think it was part of the game, and it encouraged, rather than discouraged, him.

Despite all this, I thought the cats were doing an okay job of staying out of harms' way until one day, when we came home from church, and I saw Shiloh out in the field (far away from the trailer, the shed, or any form of shelter) playing with some kind of critter in the snow. When I got closer, I saw it was Nala. He was picking her up and tossing her around like a beach ball. I was not impressed, to say the least. Not only that, but I was surprised that Nala had let herself be driven that far from safety. The poor thing was soggy, and it was below freezing, so she got to come in for a few hours to warm up. It was the day of Jude's birthday party (early November), and she just cuddled into my mom's lap and slept for about two hours.

Since then, the kittens have been soggified several times, but they are also growing. They can hold their own a little better against the dog, and they seem to care a little less, too. I don't think he usually hurts them, just licks them all over (not a good thing in this weather.) Maybe they feel it less, now that their winter coat has come in so nice and full. They are pretty chunky underneath all the fluff, too!

Jason keeps trying to get me to take Sumi back by saying that then Nala can come inside. (Nala loves laps!) I think I would just feel like I let Sumi down if I take her back. Or maybe it would be more like I failed and let myself down. I don't know. I don't mind her as much, now, anyway. She still minds a lot when the kittens come in on the odd cold day, but that's easy enough to deal with, so I dunno--besides, the kittens both being outside together do a better job of staying warm.

Pretty soon, though, it's going to be spaying/neutering time. Ugh. The poor things have no idea what's coming.

Maybe it's better to be innocent...


Next post: The Troublemaker

A long, long time ago, I posted about the first four-legged creature to join our farm. It's about time that all the more recent additions got a proper introduction, I think.

In all honesty, I think that before Shiloh even arrived, the first critters to move in were the MICE! Having our trailer sitting here, unskirted, and with plenty of places that you could see daylight from inside that weren't windows, was pretty much the equivalent of an open invitation to the little rodents. Actually, it was less like a civilized invitation to an afternoon tea party, and more like a Vegas Casino, with big neon flashing arrows saying, "C'mon in! The food's in here!"

So, despite the fact that my allergic-to-cats husband had once promised that we would NEVER have a cat indoors, the little mouse droppings in all the wrong places soon persuaded him to allow me to go pick up some freebies.

The first one to come home was Sumi. "Sumi" is Japanese for "psycho cat with severe antisocial tendencies."

She came from a single male owner who was renovating his house, and seemed concerned that the noise was bothering her. Also, it wouldn't be long before his floor was ripped up, and he thought she might run away. This maybe should have been my first clue that what we were getting wasn't exactly the ideal "lap cat" I was looking for. However, he seemed to think she was a good mouser, and that was all I really cared about at the moment.

Of course, as I was picking her up (and it's not like she was right in town, or anything--it was a bit of a drive to get there), he mentions that she doesn't really like new people, and that it takes her about six months to get used to new cats. Hmm. Well, since she was already in the van, I felt somewhat committed, so she came home anyway.

Sumi has got to have more psychological problems than any other cat I've ever known, and given the fact that most cats tend to be a little psychotic, this is really saying something. When we got her home, she disappeared under our reclining couch. Then she didn't come out. At all. For two days. Finally, after deciding that this was ridiculous, Amanda M. and I hauled her out forcibly and put her in the cat litter box. Apparently, she had been holding it for two days! (Thank goodness that there were no messes anywhere.) Then she promptly went looking for another place to hide.

Thanks to the kittens that we brought home the day after Sumi (more about them tomorrow), who were very social and preferred the active, "living-room" end of the house, it wasn't long before Sumi decided that her preferred hiding spot was under our bed. This annoyed Jason because of his allergies. This annoyed me, because I much prefer sleeping with my bedroom door closed, but if we did that, she would wake us up meowing at ungodly hours, regardless of which side of the door she had been on when we retired.

Her encounters with the kittens were brief, hiss-and-run affairs, and we saw very little of her at all until they were moved permanently outside. Sumi was so reclusive, in fact, that nearly two weeks after we got her, she went streaking by Jabin up the hall towards our bedroom (her only speeds are "full out run" or "full stop"), and he exclaimed, "What was that?!" Because of this, she has been nicknamed "The Invisible Cat."

The first photo was taken September 4, not long after we got her. Here, she has decided to hide between the washing machine and the wall, behind the bathroom door. She would also hide in the pantry (until I got the door re-hung after painting) and behind the pressure tank, until our water actually got fixed and she decided it was way too noisy and busy in the bathroom from then on.


Sumi has gradually warmed up to us (at a pace akin to how a captive would acclimate to living with cannibals). She has bonded to me the most, and will often come out in the evening, after the kids are in bed and I am usually employed doing something that gives me lap, and she will sit with me. When she wants affection, she is actually somewhat demanding, like she craves it and is afraid of it at the same time. Unfortunately, she kneads. With claws. That gets her tossed off my lap immediately.

She is getting better, though. She also spends a fair amount of time out here during the day, now. This photo, taken last week, shows one of her favourite spots to sit: by the front door, at the entrance to the hallway. She can survey the kitchen, dining room and living room activities from this spot, but if anyone makes the slightest move in her direction, she can immediately bolt back up the hallway to the safety of her den under our bed.


She is quite pretty, with unusual eyes--mostly gold, but with a ring of green around the pupil. However, this particular look is "We are NOT amused." The cause of her consternation will be the subject of Part Three.

For a while, I had all but decided to take her back once her previous owner's renovations were at a point that would allow it. However, as she has thawed, I am now worried that she would re-experience all the moving stress she finally seems to be letting go of, even if I took her back to her previous owner. Plus, there is evidence that she may have been responsible for the deaths of two mice. If there were more, no evidence was left. Also, mousey activity in general seems to be down, of late, so she might actually be serving her purpose.

Anyway, the jury's still out.

Tomorrow's episode: The Kittens

I cooked up a turkey last week which no one seemed at leisure to help us come eat, so we therefore have copious amounts of leftovers to go through. This was last night's creative solution, upon viewing of which two of my three children declared that they LOVED it, regardless of the fact that they had never had it before.

The taste did not disappoint, and there were barely enough leftovers for Jason to create a decent-sized lunch for today!

I guess we're making this one again...

Fancy Turkey and Feta Casserole
Feeds 4-8 people (depending on appetite!)

3 tbsp. butter
1/4 cup chopped onion
1-2 cloves garlic, minced
3 sticks celery, chopped
3 c. potatoes, peeled and diced into 1/2-inch cubes
1 tsp. course gray sea salt
1 tsp. dried thyme
1/2 tsp. ground sage
1/2 tsp. whole cardamom (not in the pod)
2 portabella mushroom caps, diced
1/4 c. pine nuts
1/4 c. raisins
2 c. cooked turkey, cubed
4-5 slices sprouted grain bread, cubed (can be day-old or stale)
1/4 c. butter
3/4 c. homemade turkey stock
1/4-1/2 c. feta cheese
salt and pepper, to taste

Preheat oven to 400 degrees Fahrenheit.

In 12-inch cast iron pan, melt first amount of butter on med-low. Sauté onions, garlic and celery for several minutes until onions wilt. Add potatoes, salt, thyme, sage and cardamom and cook for about five minutes, stirring occasionally. Add portabellas, pine nuts, raisins, and turkey, and stir-fry for a couple more minutes.

Meanwhile, melt second amount of butter. Put bread cubes in the bottom of a 9"x13" pan. Pour melted butter over top and stir around until bread is coated, coating pan with butter in the process. Add turkey mixture and toss together. Pour turkey stock over, then crumble feta cheese on top. Adjust seasonings to taste.

Bake until feta and bread cubes look toasted, about 20 minutes.

This weekend, I made a pair of mittens for Jabin.


This means that I have made complete hat/mitten/scarf sets for all my children this year. This is actually the second pair of mitts for Jabin, but the previous pair went missing this spring somewhere in between moving between four houses. (I know they made it to Alberta. Don't know where they are now.)

Actually, come to think of it, Jabin's current set was originally Noah's. However, I started a new one for him this spring, since the ones he was pictured in last January are too small for him. I purposely made the newest mittens bright red so that, unlike the hunter green/navy combination (a colour choice originally made by Jude--he grew out of them before I finished! Oops!), they would not only be easily visible against the snow, but also in the mittens' basket and van.


These are the mittens I made Noah. The photo was taken right after they were finished. They look a little the worse for wear, now--but they are doing the job! (He's got a matching jester hat and zig-zag scarf to match. I don't think I have a photo, and don't have time to take one right now, sorry.)


After I knit the mittens, I line them with polar fleece for extra warmth and windbreak. Since the HIGH yesterday was -23 degrees Celsius, I think you will agree that it's a necessary step! (I still have to line Jabin's, but they are much better than the thin Magic Mitties he has been using since he lost his last good pair.)

The project finished just before beginning on Jabin's Rosy Reds was Jude's Camo Toque, which finished his set. I don't know why the kid is so into camo, other than that his friends are. It must be a boy thing. I'm not going to try to understand it, I'm just going to go with it. Which is why I let him choose camo yarn for his winter warmth gear this year.


Finishing Jabin's mittens so fast, and therefore finally having a fully be-mittened family, inspired me to whip up an extra few pairs for when the originals are soggy. (Gotta love chunky yarn and bigger needles.) I have tons of Bernat Softee Chunky in child-bright colours, so why not, right? However, just as I was finishing the cuff today, I remembered a few newborn babies in need of shower gifts, so this was immediately transmogrified into the first sleeve of a baby cardie.


Gotta love stripes! I am going to try to knit it in one piece, cuff-to-cuff. No, I've never done it before. No, I'm not using a pattern. Is that a problem? (Patterns are for the bored. Just kidding. Patterns are for the really challenging techniques. Wait a minute--I only try those out when I'm bored. Okay, patterns are for the bored.)

Oh, did I show you this before? It's the new "knitting" bag I got this year. It was a ten-dollar sale purse from Walmart--way too huge to use as an actual purse, 'cause I'd just fill it up, and seriously, is a ten dollar purse worth hundreds of dollars in chiropractor and massage bills? But! Perfect for light, fluffy yarn and bamboo needles! Plus! The bright red colour means that my kids can always find me on the soccer field (since it got a lot of time on the sidelines during soccer season this spring.)


And have I mentioned that red is my favourite colour?