A glimpse of my life in the Canadian countryside in January.
A long, late afternoon, Sunday walk at -18 Celsius, with a thin wind blowing. Deciding whether to walk uphill, with the wind at our backs, or downhill, with the wind in our faces. Frozen cheeks on the easier walk home, or toiling (gently) uphill with the wind behind us? Downhill it was, to the rock bluff and twist in the road we call the “cougar crossing”, as it is the site of several spottings, and, from the tracks we consistently observe there, the main deer and predator trail down to the river. Nothing today but a lone deer, who bounded snorting away, to the quivering delight of the dogs – they’re always so thrilled when something happens on our little excursions.
Warmer last night, so the dogs were cold-heartedly evicted from their rugs by the woodstove to sleep out (not so harsh as it sounds – they have a lovely warm doghouse in the hayshed) and keep an eye on things. Wolves have been travelling past on the river ice the last few weeks; neighbouring ranches occasionally have “incidents”, but the presence of the dogs means that the wild canines – aside from the rarer wolves, the thriving coyote population is ever-present – tend to deviate around our barnyard in their routine swing-throughs. It’s all very territorial, in the canine world.
The old dog was missing this morning, so out I went in nightie and boots to call her. Did the complete rounds, accompanied by her frantic compatriot. Back to the house, really worried now, when a small thump from the garage brought the “aha!” moment. She’d pushed the door open (she does that, a well-calculated shoulder bump, just on speculation; one of the house doors doesn’t always latch completely and we occasionally find it open with a smug and smiling dog on the wrong side of it and the cold wind whistling into the house) and then managed to close it from the inside. Greatly relieved, we both were. She’s snoring gently now, sleeping much too close to the woodstove. In a while she’ll wake and grunt and sigh and relocate to the rug in front of the door, where it’s cooler.
Tea kettle on the stove, computer on. No internet. It snowed last night, so back outside and up the ladder to the roof to brush off the satellite dish. Such seemingly small things can disrupt the signal. Rain, a dusting of snow, a really cloudy day. And the high-speed it provides is not all that fast. Here’s a comparison for you. To download a song from iTunes, which, with teens in residence, is a highly popular computer activity in this household: on our old dial-up connection, 30 minutes to an hour. Yes, for one song. Often the download would freeze, requiring a reboot, usually futile. On the satellite system, 5 minutes to 20 minutes, depending on the what point we’re at in the variable speed cycle our provider imposes. With “real” high-speed – the wireless version accessed in town – 30 seconds to a minute.
If there’s one thing I envy the urbanites, it’s their easy and (relatively) cheap access to high-speed internet. My internet bill last month was $240, for the satellite subscription charges and the usage charges on the higher speed “hub” we’ve recently acquired, which is faster but gougingly expensive. Neighbours recently moved here from the city are outraged; the rest of us shrug, sigh, and take it in our stride. Not that many years ago we were still on a telephone party line here in our valley; a single line and the option of even getting a modicum of internet access was a Very Big Deal indeed. We’re slowly catching up to the rest of the world, though we usually attain things a step or two behind the curve. No NetFlix here! We patronize the sole surviving video store in our closest community, gratefully borrow what we can from the public library’s excellent and ever-increasing dvd collection, and visit the post office looking for the bright red Zip dvd mailers carrying the random selections they’ve picked off our long lists. Funny how it’s never the one you really wanted to see …
It’s a good thing there are books.
Hope you are staying warm in the cold parts of the world, and cool in the hot bits – I noticed when looking at my WordPress “stats” that I have visitors from every conceivable corner of the globe. Welcome and hello and hoping you enjoy your visit as much as I enjoy visiting the many others who share snippets of their reading and their lives through this amazing creation, the internet.
To quote Paul Simon: “These are the days of miracle and wonder, this is a long distance call …”
Happy January, everyone – we’re unbelievably almost a half-month through the new year already!
Leaves & Pages 
Thanks for sharing this little glimpse into your life, Barb. I am glad to hear that wolves are still rare in your part of the world; our friends with ranches up north have been plagued by increasing numbers of them over the past few years. As for the internet, ouch! My aunt lives on a homestead in Ontario and has the same issue (like hundreds of thousands of Canadians).
What a lovely snapshot! It all felt very idyllic until we got to the internet bit… my parents’ house in Somerset has fairly bad internet reception, but that just means you can’t watch videos after noon – I think I would collapse and die without my steady access to the net! Or… I’d probably read more books.
Happy January! I hope the internet improves more and more as time goes on, but it’s wonderful that you have a good library to draw from (for books and movies, I assume).
Yes, Claire, much of rural Canada is still lagging far behind the high-speed internet capabilities so common in more populated zones. But it’s coming! Or at least that’s what we’re frequently told. The equipment is getting better, but the usage fees – oh golly!
Re: the wolves – they’re doing quite well in this area too – more & more sightings, and our resident pack is quite a fixture – every winter they travel along the river ice in full daytime view occasionally – drives the dogs WILD and they bark madly and demand we come out and DO SOMETHING RIGHT NOW. Not much we can do, and they (the wolves) completely ignore us and generally just keep trotting along. Once we watched them stop and play & frolic on the opposite river bank for over an hour – it was fascinating if a little unnerving.I’m sure they knew we were watching, too. Put the dogs in the house & grabbed binoculars and sat on a log on our side and spied!
The last few years wolves are becoming a real problem preying on the range cattle. We always make sure the sheep are in their night pen and not out on pasture after dusk – no sense tempting the carnivores. We did lose 9 sheep one night to a single cougar, though, right in their paddock. Our resident deer population is on a high, so the cougars are also thriving. It’s mostly reasonable coexistence between the people & the predators, because the natural food source is so good right now, but the odd one is tempted to come in for an easy kill. Had a wonderful big livestock protection dog, an Akbash, for 10 years, and zero predator problems during that time, but since her demise several years ago from old age/bone cancer we’re starting to have encounters again – the border collie X OE sheepdog & the Australian shepherd just don’t have the same big WOOF and intimidating presence, though they keep up the night patrol. Time for another young dog to shore up the ranks; have been putting it off as the puppyhood stage can be such a trial!
Simon – no, you wouldn’t collapse & die – you’d just read more “real” books! 🙂
Jenny – yes, our public library system is a marvelous thing. I’ve borrowed books from right across Canada on occasion; it’s a bit of a process, and they’ve started charging a fee for the service in certain circumstances – for example, if you’re requesting a book from a university library or such out of the public library system, but it is an option if there’s something specific you just MUST read. And for everyday impulsive pleasure reading, there are loads of choices. Lots of new books being added all the time.
Makes me sad though how many older books are disappearing from the library shelves, even when they’re still being checked out and read. One of my librarian chums confided that they no longer go strictly by circulation record when culling, but by age/condition of the book, and sometimes by sheer whim of the person doing the “pulling”.
Lovely post. I’ve been enjoying your blog for a few months now but I don’t think I’ve ever left a comment. I loved reading about your dog hunt. I have similar adventures looking for my cats. They always turn up just when I’ve given up searching for them. Good luck with the internet – you’re right, I take my good internet speeds for granted. Good luck with the snow. It’s the middle of summer here (Melbourne, Australia) & I’m longing for autumn. As long as we get enough summer for my tomatoes to ripen, I’ll be happy. No more bushfires please, we’ve had enough of those over the last few weeks.
Cats are even worse. Out with the flashlight, calling & calling, while all the time the cat in question is sitting peacefully in the tall grass watching with great interest and not saying a thing! At least the dogs respond. Well, most of the time…
Hope things are better bush fires wise; don’t see anything on the news at present so hoping that this means things have quieted down. And good luck with the tomatoes! I am presently choosing my varieties to grow for sale this year – we operate a small seasonal plant nursery – and dreaming of how good “proper” tomatoes taste – the ones in the grocery stores in the off season are sad specimens compared to the sun-ripened home-grown ones, aren’t they?
I started by reading your reviews and ended up reading about you. Nice blog.
Thank you for the kind words, Jason. It’s a bit of this & that, sometimes, this blog. And my thoughts on my reading are formed by the life I’ve lived & am living, so it feels all right to occasionally share glimpses. I do enjoy reading about other bloggers’ occasional daily details.
And I’ve just checked out your own blog – very nice, indeed! I’ve added it to my “following” list – am going to spend some time looking through your past postings.