To all my friends and faithful readers, I can confirm the rumor – we have sold our little farm and are moving to Wilkie, Saskatchewan December 31 to be close to our son Justin and his lovely wife Jayne, but most of all to be close to our adorable little granddaughter Casey!
I have enjoyed writing about my experiences during my sometimes futile attempts at being a farmer. I will continue to write sort of life experience stories including what will surely be some funny stories about our move to Wilkie. Getting settled and renovating our new home will more than likely generate some amusing stories that will include my expert carpeting skills. Interacting with Casey should generate some stories about a generation gap or two. So rest assured I will continue to tickle your funny bone!
We love all our children and grandchildren and this move will place us in the middle between two of our daughters. Sue and our grandson Connor will remain in Preeceville, and our daughter Erica continues to reside in Edmonton. That leaves our daughter Annette, her beau Johnny and grandson Tristan who live in Curve Lake, Ontario. Using Google Maps I tried to drag Curve Lake into Saskatchewan and close to Wilkie, but it didn’t work. Our other two grandchildren, Makita and Willis both live in Yorkton where they work.
With respect to amusing stories, I have had a few comments about my article describing how to light a wood stove. It seems that using a tiger torch has been around for years, but nobody that shared this with me would admit to having started a house on fire, so it must be a safe method, eh? However, Elaine Olson from Rama wrote me a note describing what she believes to be a safe procedure by using a pail and mixing ashes from the stove with diesel fuel (NOT GAS!!), make it into a paste and put a scoop of it on top of the kindling and the split wood, light it using a match, and voila!
I also had some feedback from a very good friend on my story about putting up the crown mouldings and getting glue all over my hair. She was reading the article to her husband and it took her two days to get through it because they were laughing so hard with tears rolling down their cheeks! It was probably extra funny for them, because they are very familiar with my skills as a carpenter, and visualized how I was doing it. I thoroughly enjoy making fun of myself to amuse others. Life is too short to take yourself too seriously!
This will be my last article before Christmas, so I take this opportunity to wish you all a Very Merry Christmas and a Happy, Peaceful and Prosperous New Year.
Now it is time to get ourselves ready for the last Christmas celebration in our house here in Hazel Dell! I’m just wondering how Marion is going to handle the artificial Christmas tree now that we are moving. I’m sure she will come up with a practical solution. I have been working on my Santa Claus figure for years now, and I think I finally have achieved the correct size of my belly, so that it will giggle like a bowl full of jelly (not lutefisk!). My hair is all gray and turning white to match my mustache, so when Santa gets here and sees me, he might think he has a twin brother!
A story of a little Norwegian Lutheran farm boy saying grace before the Christmas supper comes to mind: Ole, a seven-year-old boy, was asked by his parents Lars and Kari, using his own words to say a table grace for the Christmas supper. All the family members bowed their heads in quiet expectation. Ole began his prayer by thanking God for his Mommy, Daddy, brothers, sister, Grandma, Grandpa, his aunts and uncles and all his cousins. He also thanked God for their dog, cat and all the barn animals. Then he continued with thanking God for the barn for the animals, the house they live in and the comfort that they enjoy. Next he thanked God for the food. He gave thanks for the turkey, the stuffing, the potatoes, the gravy, the Christmas pudding, even the cranberry sauce. Then Ole paused, and everyone waited... and waited. After a long silence, the young fellow looked up at his mother Kari and asked, “If I thank God for the brussels sprouts, won’t he know that I’m lying?”
T’was the night before Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care. They’d been worn all week and needed the air.
Norwegian Prayer
May da shoes always get on da right feet
May da wife make plenty of lefse
May da day last till nightfall
May da lutefisk never give us smelly farts
Ve ask da Good Lord to protect us and keeps us from bad Uffda’s
