Life in Cowtown

The initial shock of the outsourcing news is largely over, and things are back on track at work. The timelines involved are not immediate, ranging from three to six months,  with severance for all regular employees, which has helped to return things to normal functioning, albeit with far less enthusiasm and conscientiousness. 

My homeless kitty remains stubbornly uncatchable. He has eluded cat traps, clever maneuvers to catch it, and offers of cod liver.  He still comes by every day for food and water though, and has finally deigned to sit on a yoga mat provided for him to keep his furry orange butt off cold concrete.  I decided if I can’t trap him, so be it, and ordered an outdoor pet heating pad, which has gotten rave reviews on Amazon.  I figure if he takes to the heating pad, (and he’d have to be sick in the head not to), perhaps we can work towards some other shelter, like a styrofoam cooler and a plastic bin? We can hope.

Image from plupetstore.com

Bread baking has progressed to sourdough which turned out wonderfully, and now I have a bowl of bubbly starter in my fridge which I feed regularly. For some reason I find this hilarious and call him Bubba. Bubba the starter has to be fed the night before you bake bread, so the two day process remains unchanged. I also bought some rye flour at the local health food store, since a good rye bread is one of life’s greatest pleasures. 

And speaking of great pleasures, one of the largest and best  traditions of eastern Europe is sauerkraut. The crunchy fermented cabbage is full of natural probiotics and is one of the healthiest winter stored foods, not to mention utterly delicious.  Our family often puts some up in the fall and gleefully consumes it in soups, sides and stews until it’s gone. From bratwurst and kraut to adding a zing to borscht, it’s absolutely fantastic.  And one of the best bowls of this soup in Calgary was found in a wee little restaurant called Praga Cafe across from Chinook Mall.

Their version of the soup was thick with potatoes, golden from paprika and so addictive that I could have kept eating it until I burst.  I had to stop as we ordered a main dish too, but that soup was something else, and I’ve kept craving it since.  I really should see if they’ll part with a recipe and I’ll share it with the world.

That’s about the exicement of the week, and my next post will take you back to the summer, cause I could sure use a break from winter. Happy December y’all!

Anyone who knows me, knows that I’m a summer person through and through. I love long days that don’t seem to end, I love seeking shade from the hot sun in the sky, I love how easy it is to get dressed in the mornings what with the not looking for stray mittens, hats, scarves and debating whether a face mask is going too far or not. I love slipping into sandals and not worrying about socks, boots, and cracking your head open on residential roads that never see a plow. I love summer food – the bounty, the abundance, the freshness, the perfect ripeness of a sun warmed strawberry or a tomato.

But I live in a northern land, three thousand feet above sea level, at the foothills of majestic mountains and surrounded by wide prairies. Winter is a fact of life here, and it’s often harsh. Temperatures plunge deeply and without warning, snowfalls bury the city making roads impassable, and winter often lasts beyond all rhyme and reason. This is not a winter from an LL Bean catalogue where families frolic in the sunny meadow building a snowman and sipping hot chocolate. You just know the weather in those photos is hovering just below zero, while you contemplate the arctic parka from Canada Goose while there’s a blizzard outside.  And while always welcome in the winter, Chinooks unleash their own mayhem raising temperatures by thirty degrees in hours turning roads into deep slush piles and melting everything in sight.  In fact, I’ve recently cultivated an appreciation for skiing, to my own surprise, just so that there’s something else to do besides hibernate by the fireplace.

So around here we need the fall, bittersweet that it is, to ease the transition between the summer fun and the bitter short days of winter. We need to feel the shock of that first night below zero and to begin acclimatizing so that in January we can wear a t-shirt on a sunny + 10 day with impunity.  We need to watch the leaves change colors, and bunnies replace their brown summer coats with snow white down. We need to start making stews, chilies and roasts because the oven is just another convenient way to warm the house. It’s like a fireplace only tastier.

Because all too soon we’ll be surprised to see this on our doorstep (only twenty days after our summer high of 32 C), which is nature’s way to dispense with slow acclimatization and just employ some shock therapy on our hides. Just to keep us from getting complacent and all.

 Photos  by my talented friend Warren Sable who actually knows how to use his camera.