I just came back from our morning walk. We miss our skis in the park dearly. I miss the snow and cold air. They’re all so invigorating. I don’t feel as well physically, therefore also emotionally in hot weather. I will try not to moan too much. But have you noticed how warm this March is? Yesterday the forecast was 8℃ for a high. It went up to 14℃. This morning I woke up to 4℃ outside and 9℃ in the greenhouse at 6 am. Holy cats! No climate change, eh?
It’s not that I’m unhappy spring is here. It could be a slower transition so my body can adjust. It’s such a jolt. One week I’m skiing, the next I feel like it’s bathing suit season. However, it is good for our greenhouse. Already now at 11:30 am the temperature inside is 25℃. I’ve opened up 3 vents to the 2nd notch and the temperature still rose. I can see that we will have some greens for a salad soon. And the possibility of tomatoes in June a reality.
It is after supper now. My afternoon disappeared. I’m returning to close up the conversation. What is there to say? I spent the time away doing a little sewing a quilt square and sowing more seeds. I gave myself a break and a lazy soak in the bath and listening to the podcast White Coat, Black Art. It was on Bill C -7 to expand access to medical assistance in dying. As soon as I stepped out of the tub, I got a message from the 5th uncle in NYC. My third uncle has just passed away. He was 93. Could I tell my mother. He couldn’t get through on the phone.
I feel so sad. We are so far away. It reminded me of when my grandmother died so many years ago. My parents and my brother and sister were living in New York at the time. It was just me alone here in Saskatoon, going to the University of Saskatchewan. I went there for Christmas. It was my 3rd uncle who met me at the airport. He said to me in the car, Your grandmother has passed. I fought back the tears and the lump in my throat. I hate displaying emotions. I was a little angry nobody told me before then. They did not want it to interfere with my studies. The funeral was already done.
onethousandandtwo 
I remember my mother not telling me my dad almost died when I was in NP school. The day I completed my studies, my mother had a stoke and died 2 months later. Dad was around for more years than I could imagine, because they were so close! But I was grateful.