Blending In With Albertans

Facing Disaster

I come from a province where the worst natural disaster in it's recent history was a snow storm that prompted the mayor of Toronto to call in the army to help with the heavy lifting. I am not attempting to be snide, Ontario snow is really quite heavy and even occasionally deep and abundant. Why, I can recall tens of days when I was forced to shovel for upwards of twenty to twenty-five minutes at a go. Imagine the savagery. I even got a blister once.

Albertans, however, seem to be made of sterner stuff.  Tornado? Just tighten the ball cap and keep fishing. Hail? If it ain't biggern yer mama's Shih Tzu then quit yer whinin', Nancy. Floods may change the landscape, uproot your house and destroy your livelihood but, by damn, the Stampede will go on. Temperatures that dip below -40, then soar to 40-plus inside of four months aren't even to be remarked upon. Do not even get me started on the general apathy held for drought. It is dry here. Move on.

But then there's wildfire. Ah, I thought, here is something that Nature can deliver which will finally tighten the Albertan sphincter. With the ignition of the current and devastating wildfires on the Cold Lake Air Weapons Range, not 40 km to the north west of our fair town, I expected at least to hear some comparisons to wildfires of days gone by or how things used to burn hotter in the good old days. Indeed, everyone is very serious at the moment and there is a general sense that things could actually, just maybe, possibly get very bad. 

Last night I spent two hours taking pictures of everything I own, including the camera I was using to take the pictures, and packing a go-bag with clothes, pet food, important documents and my copy of The Hitchhiker's Guide. When I finally opened the front door and stepped out, I expected to see a flurry of similar activity up and down my street.

And yet...

The kids are still at school and the lawns are still mowed and there is a big fish fry planned for the weekend after the rodeo. People are still going about their business as usual, and only occasionally glancing at the western horizon where a towering white cloud has been building for days. They are still making summer plans and having coffee dates and backyard barbecues.  

Albertans are not fools. They seem to know that it isn't time to worry yet.  They understand the danger of wildfire and it's disastrous effects but with their usual reserve they are also living their lives, not unconcerned but not frantic either, in this dusty province caught between prairie and paradise, because that is not just what Albertans do, it is who they are. 

Mirror, Mirror

I turned forty back in March. It was fantastic! ...I think. I was heavily medicated at the time. Although not because I was turning forty. And why is that number so significant, anyway? Just what is the very big deal? I feel no different today than I did the day I turned fifteen or twenty. To prove it I stood in front of the mirror, on the morning of the day I turned forty, naked and armed with clarity of vision and a vat of industrial grade moisturizer. In my grandmother's words, you can never be too moist.

Hmmm.

Is that really my ass? Ooo, collar bones and shoulders are very nice, this season. Those freckles are going to be classified as adorable and not skin cancer so let's move on. Breasts, two of, (honk honk) seem okay. Sublime actually, but focus dear, focus. Tummy... umm. Well, we can work on that. Wait, when did I get my mother's hands? Have my feet always been this weird? Seriously, what the hell is with my ass?

It was a long 20 minutes. Lot's of twisting and chasing my tail and ridiculous faces. I discovered some changes I didn't know had happened, some things I like, some things I will accept, others I will try very hard to change as healthily as possible, for the sake of the Me who will be 60 some day. On the whole, I like what I saw. The lines around the eyes are new, but when I smile my best smile at the me in the mirror I can see right away that I have laughed them there. 

I still don't understand why the age of forty holds such significance for some. I have been razzed and chided and generally poked for turning another year older, as humans are wont to do, but in terms of why that number seems so important, I am afraid I am still mystified. And just as likely today to buy gum whenever I find money, as I was when I was eight.

Under the category of things to change for the sake of Future Me, I know what needs to be done, I just have to make sure I do in a healthy and lasting way. The goal I have set is a realistic one: make sure I can keep up with Husband. Now that is motivating.

 And I've also made a promise to add a few more laugh lines, for good measure. 

Friday's Coffee is Full of Grace

Have you ever been so mesmerized by the sweet folds of cream as it swirls through your morning coffee; become so lost in their silken dance that as you stare into their depths you forget time until only those drifting ribbons hold any place in reality and you ache to decipher the patterns of their motion, straining against the sensation that a deep mystery is about to be revealed, such that you become so entranced you forget to drink?

Me neither.