Rose snuggled up against her husband. “I know exactly what that goose is saying,” she said.

Andrew looked up. “Huh?” he said. “What goose?” He looked out of the window just as the geese finally disappeared from sight. “Oh,” he said. “Really? You speak goose?”

Rose chuckled. “Apparently I do,” she said. “I could tell by the tone of the honking. She was not a happy goose. ‘I told you it was too early to go north,’ she was saying, ‘but did you listen? Oh no, of course not. You just followed your infernal gander instincts instead of looking at the fact that EVERYTHING WAS STILL FROZEN and away you went and now here we are in the middle of a bloody snowstorm, and the only open water we’ve seen in two weeks was a water main break in Fargo, North Dakota! And God only knows where we are, because there’s no way to tell when the rivers are all still COVERED WITH SNOW!’” Rose shifted to look up at Andrew. “That’s what she was saying,” she said, “and you know it’s true.”

Andrew pondered that for moment. “Well, I know what the gander was thinking,” he said.

“Do you now?” said Rose. “You have EGSP, do you?”

“EGSP?” said Andrew. “What’s that?”

“Extra goose-sensory perception, obviously,” said Rose.

“I don’t need EGSP to know what he was thinking,” said Andrew. “He was thinking, ‘seriously? We geese mate for life? Well thank God it’s not a very long life. Maybe if I just keep flapping into this blizzard I can shorten it even more. And I am NOT LOST. At least I don’t think so. I mean you can’t be sure you’re lost if you don’t know where you are. And I have no idea where we are.’” Andrew folded his paper. “That’s what that gander was thinking,” he said, “and you know it’s true.”

“It IS true,” said Rose. She was silent for a moment. “Do you think we might be descended from geese?” she said.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “That would explain the urge I get every October to flap my arms like a maniac and run off as fast as I can in a southerly direction. An urge I might add, that I feel less inclined to fight every year that goes by.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” said Rose, “although I was thinking more about the whole ‘how do you know you’re lost if you don’t know where you are’ thing. Because that’s just an eerily human thing to say, don’t you think?”

“You mean eerily man-like,” said Andrew.

“Well, yeah,” said Rose.

“It is very man-like,” said Andrew. “But on the other hand, we could be getting the whole thing all wrong. I mean we don’t even know which was actually leading. Maybe it was the goose that was leading and the gander was shouting encouragement from the rear. Maybe he was saying ‘you GO girl! Keep flapping baby! A little blizzard never hurt anyone and I trust your instincts implicitly my dear even though it’s a little hard to see where we’re going! Because your instincts have never let us down! Except for that one time when we crashed into the CanWest building because you thought it was a lake… but I’m not counting that honey because with all the windows and whatnot, it DID look a little like a lake… so let’s just keep heading north baby because you are ALWAYS right!’”

Rose thought about that for a second. “You could be right,” she said. “Birds crash into the CanWest building all the time.”

There was a long pause while the two of them continued to gaze out the window.

“It’s ridiculous,” said Andrew.

“I would like to know who’s to blame,” said Rose.

“I blame our ancestors,” said Andrew. “They could have gone anywhere in the world and they chose to come here.”

Rose sighed. “We do this every year,” said Rose. “We revile our ancestors in April and then we forgive them in June.”

“Will we ever worship them, do you think?” said Andrew.

“It’ll be a hot day in January if we do,” said Rose. “So, no. Not a chance.”

The post The Jacksons appeared first on Manitoba Co-operator.

Excited to be the sole rider to represent Canada, Prue Critchley shared her passion for endurance riding on India soil this year.

Critchley, who lives between Hamiota and Shoal Lake with her husband Andrew, received an official invitation to participate in the Himalayan Endurance Ride competition from the Equestrian Federation of India. “Despite being at very short notice, I made the trip,” said Critchley. “We (myself and crew/groom member, Candace Oakes of Lyalta, Alta.) frantically collected donations for our flights to India, as based on the time frame we didn’t have time to save up.”

Critchley said while all expenses between Jan. 31 and Feb. 3 were kindly covered by the Indian Equestrian Federation — which in itself was a huge bonus to participants — flights weren’t included.

Since becoming involved in endurance riding in 1989, Critchley has competed in a number of events of varying distances. The international championship in India is a 60-km competition — taking in account the loops are a distance of 3×20 km.

Endurance riding is an equestrian sport based on controlled long-distance races and the terrain can be varied and challenging. In India, all international riders rode leased horses supplied by the Assam Equestrian Federation.

“The ride was very exciting,” said Critchley. “It was held in the northeast part of the country with a backdrop of the Himalayas! The ride went through tea plantations and along the Brahmaputra River.”

The first edition of the Eastern Himalayan Ride, an International Endurance meet, was flagged off by Dr. T.R. Barbora, principal of Assam Medical College in 2010. Assam is under the aegis of Equestrian Federation of India, with participation from five nations — U.S., Argentina, Switzerland, U.K. and India. The ride was developed to promote equestrian sports in general and endurance riding in particular in the northeast or the eastern Himalayan sub-region of India.

Critchley was one of seven international riders.

The post Hamiota woman rides in India appeared first on Manitoba Co-operator.

Rose shivered, and scowled at the same time. “If I had a dollar for every time somebody’s asked me that in the last two weeks I could go back to Mexico.” She set her coffee cup down. “And I would,” she added.

“It’s the first day of spring,” said Karen, peering out of the window at the snow blowing along the street. “Why does anyone even live in this frozen wasteland?”

“If you can call it living,” said Rose.

Andrew snorted. “You’re complaining about the cold?” he said. “People used to live here, through winters like this, in teepees. Or sod houses. We’re just spoiled.”

“Not spoiled enough for my taste,” said Karen. “I told Grant yesterday that if we don’t have a hot tub in the house by next year I’m going to move into the Heartland Motel in Winkler for the winter.”

“Oooh good idea!” said Rose. “I think I’ll join you.”

“A month from now we’ll have forgotten all about this,” said Grant.

“True enough,” Andrew agreed. “We’ll be too busy sandbagging.”

“Don’t even say that,” said Karen. “In fact I suggest we talk about something else.”

“Good idea,” said Rose. “So, how are the kids?”

Karen grimaced. “On second thought,” she said, “lets’ go back to talking about the weather.”

“That bad huh?” Rose paused as the waitress set a plate of bacon and eggs down in front of her, and another in front of Andrew. “What are they now, 13 and 17? Thirteen has to be the worst.”

“No kidding,” said Grant. “Kendra was difficult at 13, but Danielle is a holy terror. She’s got the cognitive abilities of a 20-year-old and the maturity level of a five-year-old.”

“The problem with children,” said Andrew through a mouthful of hash browns, “is that the different areas of their brains don’t develop at the same speed. And the real problem is that the part of their brain that recognizes consequences is the last part to develop. Sometimes it doesn’t really kick in till they’re 30 or 35.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” said Grant. “Which is why teenagers get pregnant. Not all teenagers,” he added quickly, giving his wife a reassuring look. “Just some of them… sometimes. Because their brains don’t work properly…”

“Stop talking now honey,” said Karen.

There was a brief pause.

“It gets better,” said Andrew. “Eventually.”

“In the good old days,” said Grant, “if your teenagers didn’t behave the way you wanted them to you could take them out to the woodshed and whup some sense into them.”

There was another pause.

“I’ve always wondered about that,” said Rose, picking up a crisp piece of bacon with her fingers and taking a bite. “If those were actually the good old days and whupping sense into teenagers was such a good idea, then why did teenagers back then still get pregnant? We know they did.”

The others thought about that for a moment.

“Maybe there just wasn’t enough whupping,” said Grant. “Maybe when you use whupping as a preventive you have to sort of build up a critical mass before it works.”

“Or maybe,” said Rose, “whupping teenagers is just as ineffective a way of getting them to not… OK, I’m just going to say it… have sex… as any other method that’s been tried. Maybe there is no critical mass that’s guaranteed to prevent that.”

“You’re not making me feel any better here Rose,” said Karen. “Keep in mind that I have not one, but two teenage girls I have to try to keep track of.”

“Well,” said Andrew, “I think the trick is to have as many mortifyingly awkward conversations with your kids about it as you can. That way when they think about doing something risky, they’ll be thinking, if this goes wrong I’m going to have to have another one of those horribly uncomfortable conversations with my father which is so not worth it. I’ll just rather wait till I’m grown up and on my own. It seemed to work for the boys.”

Rose looked surprised. “You had mortifyingly awkward conversations with the boys about this?” she said.

“You have no idea,” said Andrew.

“I could do that,” said Karen. “Heck at this point I might even enjoy it.”

“Go for it,” said Grant. “I know it works for me.”

“What do you mean it works for you?” said Karen.

“I mean,” said Grant, “there’s all kinds of things I don’t do because I’d rather avoid awkward conversations with you.”

“Really? Well then,” said Karen, looking momentarily relieved, “maybe there’s hope after all.”

The post The Jacksons appeared first on Manitoba Co-operator.

Andrew nodded apprehensively.

“And then,” said Rose, “you suggested that Randy and Jackie could move in here with their family and look after the farm?”

“Something like that,” said Andrew.

“And then,” Rose continued, “you suggested that instead of coming with us to town, Jennifer should stay here and help Randy look after the farm?”

Andrew furrowed his brow sheepishly. “We were just… you know… shooting the breeze. Sorry.”

Rose picked up her coffee cup and took a sip. “Well then I guess we better start looking for a place,” she said.

Andrew raised his eyebrows. “Right now?” he said.

“No time like the present,” said Rose.

“So you like my plan?” said Andrew.

“I think it might be the best plan you’ve ever had,” said Rose, “aside from your plan to marry me and have a bunch of kids. That was also a good plan.”

“Wow,” said Andrew. “I can’t believe it took me 29 years to come up with a second good plan.”

“No kidding,” said Rose. “But hey, your first plan was still working, so what the heck, why panic?”

Exactly,” said Andrew. “That was my thinking.” He paused. “So you’re serious?” he said. “You actually want to move to town?”

Rose took another sip of coffee. “Face it,” she said, “I’ve spent way too much of my life outdoors. I want to move into a nice apartment that’s attached to a grocery store and a shopping mall and maybe a swimming pool and a curling rink, so I never have to go outside if the temperature is below freezing or if it’s windy or if somebody reports seeing a mosquito anywhere within the last week.”

Andrew got up to get himself another cup of coffee. “OK, now you’re just being silly,” he said. “We are not going to move to Edmonton and live in the West Edmonton Mall.”

Rose put on a crestfallen look. “A girl can dream, can’t she?” she said.

“Absolutely,” said Andrew. “Dream on. But realistically, there isn’t a shopping mall or a swimming pool in town and that glorified Quonset they call a curling rink has no attached housing as far as I’m aware, so you may have to settle for a little house somewhere close to the Safeway.”

“Oh all right,” said Rose. “But you have to promise to take me to the West Edmonton Mall at least once a year.”

“No problem,” said Andrew. He sat back down in his chair. “You going to miss the kids?” he asked.

“Brady and Amanda will be just a few blocks away,” said Rose. “And every day that the temperature outside is between 75 and 85° with no wind and no clouds and no mosquitos I’ll drive out to the farm to see Randy and Jennifer and all of them. So no worries. It’s time we grow up and move out on our own.”

Andrew nodded. “My thinking exactly,” he said.

“I think we should get a dog,” said Rose. “A little Bichon or something. An inside dog.”

“How about we get a chihuahua?” said Andrew. Then we wouldn’t have to worry about people wanting to come visit us.”

Rose pondered that for a second. “There is something to be said for that,” she said, “but the problem is, if there’s a chihuahua in the house we may not want to live there either.”

“That would kind of defeat the purpose,” said Andrew. He leaned back in his chair. “So, just one question,” he said. “Who’s going to live in Randy and Jackie’s trailer?”

Good question,” said Rose. “Hey, maybe Brady and Amanda would want to move out here to the country. It’d be cheaper than where they are now.”

“Maybe we could play musical houses,” said Andrew. “Randy and Jackie move in here, Brady and Amanda move into the trailer and we can move into Brady and Amanda’s house in town.”

“All in the family,” said Rose. “I like it.” She paused momentarily. “One other thing,” she said. “In all seriousness, when would we do this?”

“Well, not tomorrow,” said Andrew.

“How about Saturday?” said Rose.

Andrew laughed. “Goodness, you are in a hurry suddenly,” he said.

Rose grinned. “I’m kidding,” she said.

“I was thinking not this summer, but the next one,” said Andrew. “Gives us some time to work out all the details.”

“Sounds about right,” said Rose. “And here I was just planning to have a quiet cup of coffee this morning.”

“You know what they say,” said Andrew. “The best laid plans…”

The post The Jacksons, Feb. 28, 2013 appeared first on Manitoba Co-operator.

Andrew laughed and set his own cup down on the table. “I try hard not to,” he said, “but some things are hard to forget!”

“True enough,” said Randy walking over to the table and taking a chair next to Jennifer who was doing homework of some sort while enjoying a glass of milk and a few oatmeal cookies.

“True enough,” said Randy snagging one of his sister’s cookies. “What’s the worst Brady snow-clearing incident you can recall?”

Andrew pondered that for a second. “It’s a toss-up,” he said. “Either the time he dumped a full bucket of snow and gravel on the roof of the car, or the time he tore the bumper off of the half-ton with the loader. Take your pick.”

Jennifer looked up from her work. “I vote for the time he shot a hole in the hood of the half-ton,” she said. “And who took one of my cookies?” she added.

“Not me,” said Randy chewing noisily. “And shooting a hole in the hood of the half-ton wasn’t a snow-clearing incident so it doesn’t count.”

“Oh,” said Jennifer. “Well in that case I vote for the time he ran over the stop sign on the way over to clear the snow at Kendra’s house.”

“Ah, now that one I had forgotten,” said Andrew. “Probably because it didn’t involve any damage to my property, just for once.”

Randy chuckled. “Who would have thought,” he said, “that a guy who has such a habit of breaking things would end up making a living by fixing things instead?”

“It’s ironic,” said Andrew, “but in a good way.” He took a sip of coffee. “So tell me,” he said, changing the subject, “how did everything go while Rose and I were off in Hawaii? You kids got along OK?”

Randy and Jennifer looked at each other for a second.

“I thought it was awesome,” said Jennifer. “It was like a holiday at home for me!”

Randy nodded. “Yeah, it was kind of,” he agreed. “Allison and Andy Jr. loved having Jenn around all the time which made things really nice for Jackie. Plus it’s so much roomier here.” He paused. “Next year you can go for a month if you want,” he said.

“Or for the whole winter,” said Jennifer.

Andrew reached over and helped himself to Jennifer’s last cookie. He gave Randy a long look. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “Rose thinks you and Jackie should live here, in the house. She says it only makes sense since you have two kids and we’re down to one.”

“Well I want my own house,” said Jennifer, getting up from the table, “where people won’t keep stealing my cookies.” She picked up her plate and headed over to the cookie jar.

“So what’s the plan?” said Randy. “Mom wants to trade houses?”

Andrew shook his head. “Mom wants to move to town,” he said. “Into a smaller house with a smaller yard and more amenities close at hand.”

Jennifer looked aghast. “No way!” she said. “I am not moving to town! It’s bad enough I have to go to school there!”

“Who said anything about you moving?” said Andrew.

Jennifer stopped in mid-stride, a cookie in her hand halfway to her mouth, a look of puzzled surprise on her face.

The times, they are a-changin’,” said Andrew. “You’ll be 18 years old, Jenn, and I’ll be 55 and we should maybe quit while we still like each other.”

Randy looked nonplussed. “Wow,” he said. “That’s crazy. Two weeks living in the same house for me and Jenn is one thing, but doing it on a permanent basis is quite another. No offence Jenn,” he added.

“None taken,” said Jennifer. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“If you get on each other’s nerves,” said Andrew, “one of you can stomp off angrily to the trailer. Anyway, this is just an idea. I thought I’d float it out there and see what kind of response I got.”

Randy and Jennifer looked at each other.

“Maybe we should think about it for a few years,” said Randy. “What do you think Jenn?”

“I don’t want to move off the farm,” she said, “so either we live here together or I stay in the house by myself. So there.”

Andrew chuckled. “We ain’t leaving tomorrow,” he said. “Could easily be a year or two yet.”

“I’ll start packing your stuff,” said Jenn. “After I finish my homework.”

Andrew and Randy both laughed.

“Looks like you’re right Pops,” said Randy. “The times they are a-changin’!”

The post The Jacksons appeared first on Manitoba Co-operator.

Don’t get complacent. The weather, just like the voters did, will one day make up its mind, and it’ll be a cold day in November when that happens. Or if we’re lucky, a cold day in December. Or if we’re unlucky, a cold day in January, because if the weather doesn’t make up its mind till January, then global warming may be an even bigger problem than we think it is.

“It’s so depressingly grey out there,” said Rose Jackson, turning away from the dining room window and walking back across the room to the table where her husband Andrew and daughter Jennifer sat. “I almost wish it would snow.”

“Well darling, I have really good news for you,” said Andrew. “It will.”

“Yes, but when? And what do I do till it does?” said Rose. “I would like to be my usual cheerful self, but it’s so hard at this time of year.”

“You need a happy light,” said Jennifer.

Rose paused. “A what?” she said.

“A happy light,” said Jennifer. “It’s a UV light you sit under for a few minutes a day that gives you… I don’t know, a full spectrum of something or other, which is supposed to help if you suffer from seasonal something something. Miss O’Brien told us about it in health class but I wasn’t really listening.”

“What you really need, Rose,” said Andrew, “is to spend the winter in Hawaii. But since that ain’t gonna happen, how about I buy you a happy light?” He turned to Jennifer. “Did Miss O’Brien happen to mention how much they cost?”

“I have no idea,” said Jennifer. “I think you can get different sizes and price ranges.”

“Just get me a cheap one,” said Rose. “If you pay too much then you’ll just be depressed about spending too much money.”

“But if I get a cheap one,” said Andrew, “then your happiness will be shallow and superficial.”

“Geez,” said Jennifer. “Just go to Hawaii for the winter. Both of you. Then we’ll all be happy.”

Rose laughed. “Oh yeah,” she said. “And leave you here alone to look after the place? Maybe not.”

“I wouldn’t be alone,” said Jennifer. “I mean Randy lives, like, 15 feet away.”

“A hundred and fifteen actually,” said Andrew.

“Whatever,” said Jennifer. “Randy and Jackie could just move in here while you were gone. They’d probably love it.”

There was a brief silence.

“Omigod,” said Rose. “We could totally do it.”

“Absolutely,” said Jennifer. “You could and you should.”

“We totally could,” said Andrew, “but we totally can’t.”

“Why not?” said Rose. “Why can’t we?”

“Simple,” said Andrew. “We’re sheep farmers. Sheep farmers don’t go to Hawaii for the winter. Sheep farmers stay home in winter so they can hunker down in the snow with their flock and fight off wolves and cougars with pointed sticks and burning torches.”

“I’m pretty good with pointed sticks,” said Jennifer. “I almost took Brady’s eye out with one once.”

“True enough,” said Andrew, “but you know you’re not allowed to play with fire.”

“Randy can do the burning torches and I’ll do the pointy stick,” said Jennifer, “and the sheep will thrive and grow massive amounts of wool and gestate like crazy and you two will be sunburned and happy in your tropical paradise.”

There was another pause. Andrew and Rose looked at each other.

“You know the real reason we can’t go, don’t you dear?” said Andrew.

Rose nodded.

“Because,” said Andrew, “our nearly 18-year-old daughter is way too eager to get rid of us, which is making the UM light in my head go off.”

“UM light? What’s a UM light?” Jennifer wanted to know.

“It’s an Ulterior Motive light,” said Andrew. “Parents have them in their heads and they come on when kids make suggestions that may be ulteriorally motivated.”

“First of all,” said Jennifer, “ulteriorally isn’t a word, and secondly, you wouldn’t have room in your head for a light, what with all the rocks and whatnot.”

“Well something is flashing in there,” said Andrew. “So either way, we can’t go to Hawaii till I get that checked out.”

Jennifer sighed. “Failed again,” she said. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t try.”

“Well I’d say you succeeded,” said Rose, grinning. “I feel a whole lot better!”

The post The Jacksons appeared first on Manitoba Co-operator.

Randy Jackson leaned back in his chair as he spoke, and pushed his empty plate away. The other people at the table, Randy’s wife Jackie, his sister Jennifer and his mother and father, Rose and Andrew, kept eating, although it was clear they were nearly through as well. A few slabs of roast beef still lay on the serving platter and a few scoops of mashed potatoes could have been had yet from the potato dish, but other than that there wasn’t much left on the table except for a mess of dirty dishes.

“Your father is just cranky, Randy,” said Rose, “because there’s nothing on TV.”

Randy looked at his father quizzically “Is this true?” he asked.

“Dang straight,” said Andrew. “There is nothing on tonight and there’ll be nothing on again tomorrow, and the day after that there’ll be repeats of tonight’s and tomorrow’s nothing.”

“And by nothing,” said Jennifer, “Dad means hockey.”

Randy looked surprised. “I thought you didn’t watch hockey, Dad,” he said.

“I didn’t,” said Andrew. “Not for 15 years. I quit when the Jets left town. Who wants to watch hockey when the only game on is the Carolina Hurricanes and the Atlanta Thrashers, and you know that at least half of the fans in the stands couldn’t even spell the word hockey if their lives depended on it. Not me, that’s who. But I started watching again when the Jets came back.”

“Wow,” said Randy. “So you’re one of those Jets fans they keep writing about in the newspaper, who feel cheated and abused because the Jets finally came back and now they’re locked out?”

“I wouldn’t say cheated and abused,” said Andrew. “More like aggravated and annoyed.”

“So why don’t you watch the American presidential debates instead?” said Jackie. “There’s almost as many of those on as there would be hockey games.”

Andrew gave her his best incredulous look. “You’re suggesting that I make up for the lack of hockey on TV by watching American democracy wither and die on national television?” he said. “How cheerful.”

“Well, that seems a little overly pessimistic, even for you,” said Rose. “American democracy may not be the shining beacon of hope that it used to be but that doesn’t mean it’s withering and dying.”

“Oh it’s a shining beacon all right,” said Andrew, “but that’s just because it’s going down in flames.”

“Seriously?” said Jennifer. “Do you really think so?”

Andrew paused, realizing that Jennifer was indeed serious.

“Well,” he said, softening his tone a little, “it may not actually be crashing and burning yet, but if the middle class doesn’t figure out a way to dig itself out of the hole that the government and the bankers have put them in, then I expect the system will break down in a hurry. Because if there’s one thing history should have taught us, it’s that there are few systems that work worse than having an upper class and a lower class with nothing in the middle. Just ask the former monarchs of Russia or France or Spain. ”

“But the United States doesn’t have any monarchs,” said Jennifer.

“Try telling Donald Trump that,” said Randy.

“Exactly,” said Andrew.

“I don’t get it,” said Jennifer. “What happens if there’s no middle class?”

“Eventually the lower class gets fed up,” said Andrew, “and then they figure out some way to depose the upper class. It’s not generally pretty. And the fact that everybody in America has guns isn’t going to make it any prettier if it comes to that.”

Jennifer looked worried. “How soon do you think all of that is going to happen?” she wanted to know.

Andrew thought about that for a moment. “Probably a couple of hundred years,” he said.

Jennifer looked relieved. “Geez,” she said. “I thought it’d be like, next week.”

“Oh heck no,” said Andrew. “Watching democracy wither and die is like watching a very, very, slow car crash. It’s a long, drawn-out agony.”

“So it’s like watching the Bombers play football,” said Jennifer.

“Very much like that,” said Andrew. “Which is another thing that makes me cranky.”

“You need to get some perspective, Pops,” said Randy. “The death of democracy would be worth getting cranky about I suppose, but hockey and football not so much. And if you have to be cranky for 200 years while democracy slowly crumbles, that hardly seems like time well spent. Maybe you’d be better off trying to do something to help democracy survive.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Ooh, you could run for parliament Dad!” said Jennifer. “We could move to Ottawa.”

“There’s just one major flaw in that plan darling,” said Rose.

“What?” asked Jennifer.

“Moving to Ottawa,” said Rose, “would make ME more than cranky.”

“Case closed,” said Andrew.

The post The Jacksons By Rollin Penner appeared first on Manitoba Co-operator.

With an air of complete nonchalance he reached up, caught the hat on its way down and put it back on his head. As he turned to enter the café he saw his friends watching him through the window, applauding. He reached up again, tipped his hat modestly and then went inside.

When he got the usual table at the window, the conversation was already in full steam.

“Gerry Ritz’s idea of public consultation,” Grant Toews was saying from his seat at the end of the table, “is to lock himself in a room with two of his friends and tell them what he’s going to do.”

“That’s assuming Gerry Ritz has two friends,” said Arnold Bargen, who was sitting across from Grant.

“True enough,” said Grant. “Maybe he just locks himself in a room and tells himself what he’s going to do. That way he can be reasonably sure that the results of his public consultation won’t get leaked to the media and spoil the surprise for all of us.”

“I don’t get what people are surprised about,” said John King, who was seated next to Arnold. “This government is the most predictable one I’ve ever known.”

Andrew took a sip of coffee and then set his cup down on the table. “John has a point,” he said. “They generally do exactly what they say they’re going to do.”

“True again,” said Grant. “They say what they’re going to do, and then when there’s a public outcry they do a bunch of consultations, at the end of which they do whatever it is they said they would do in the first place.”

“Totally predictable,” said John.

“Ronald Reagan said it best,” said Arnold, “back when he was running for the presidency.”

“He did?” said Grant.

“I don’t remember that,” said John. “I guess I was too young.”

“Ronald Reagan said government is not the solution to our problems because government IS the problem,” said Arnold. “And then he spent the next eight years proving that he was right.”

There was a brief silence while the others considered this.

“So if government is not the solution to our problems,” said Andrew, “then what is? Anarchy?”

Grant raised his coffee cup. “Anarchy rules!” he said.

The others stared at him for a second, and then Andrew laughed. “Good one,” he said. “I saw what you did there.”

John and Arnold looked confused.

“He made a play on words, see?” Andrew explained. “He said anarchy rules, but the whole point of anarchy is that there are no rules. Get it?”

It was pretty clear that they didn’t.

“Never mind,” said Andrew. “Anarchy might be an improvement over what we have now, but I’m pretty sure it’s not a solution.”

“So that leaves us with what?” said Grant. “The NDP?”

“In that case, I vote for anarchy,” said John.

“You can’t vote for anarchy,” said Grant. “If there’s voting, then it’s not anarchy.”

“Whatever,” said John. “It’s a free country. I’ll vote for anarchy if I feel like it. I mean goodness, if the provincial NDP blames hog farmers for the pollution in Lake Winnipeg, can you imagine what the federal NDP will do if we elect them? Blame dairy farmers for the hole in the ozone layer?”

“They already blame dairy farmers for that,” said Arnold.

“Actually they blame the cows,” said Arnold. “It’s the cows that produce the methane. Mostly.”

“How the heck did we get on this topic?” asked Andrew. “I don’t even remember how this conversation started and now we’re talking about blaming the cows.”

“We were talking about Gerry Ritz’s idea of public consultation,” said Arnold. “So naturally we end up blaming the cows.”

“Why exactly?” said Andrew. “Did Gerry Ritz consult with the cows?”

There was a moment of silence.

“Maybe he did,” said Grant. “That would explain a lot.”

“It would explain why, when I told my cows about the new AgriStability rules,” said John, “they weren’t at all surprised.”

“So the cows knew all along?” said Arnold. “And they didn’t leak it to anyone.”

“Well, you know why they didn’t leak it,” said Andrew.

“Really? Why?” said Arnold.

“They didn’t leak it,” said Andrew, “because it isn’t methane.”

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“I thought they were going to be here at two o’clock,” she said. “Where the heck are they?”

Andrew looked up from the sports section. “As Winnie the Pooh would say,” he said, “you never can tell with newlyweds.”

“You mean bees,” said Jennifer. “Winnie the Pooh said you never can tell with bees.”

“Bees and newlyweds then,” said Andrew. “And of the two,” he added, “I think newlyweds are less predictable.”

Jennifer heaved a sigh. “One more reason to never be a newlywed,” she said, but just as she spoke the familiar rumble of her brother Brady’s Trans Am could be heard coming up the road.

“Finally! They’re here!” Jennifer was off like a shot, the front door slamming behind her as she raced out into the yard to greet Brady and Amanda. Andrew got up from his own chair to stand at the window. He watched the car pull into the yard and park, and smiled to see Jennifer open the passenger side door from outside, and then give her new sister-in-law a great big hug before the girl even had time to get completely out of the car. Andrew felt a hand on his arm as Rose appeared beside him.

“They look happy,” said Andrew.

“That’s a very good thing,” said Rose, and then turned towards the door as it opened to let the three youngsters in. “Welcome back,” she said giving each of the newlyweds a welcoming hug. “Come and sit! How are you?”

“We’re awesome!” said Amanda seating herself in the chair next to Brady and leaning her head comfortably on his shoulder. Brady nodded in agreement.

“I don’t know if everybody’s honeymoon is as fun as ours,” he said, “but that was pretty amazing! Two weeks of sleeping in, relaxing, eating and having somebody else do all the work. The only thing we had to do was cook, and that was just part of the fun! It was a little like being back in the Garden of Eden.”

“Except in the Garden of Eden nobody had to work or cook,” said Jennifer.

“A small unimportant detail,” said Brady.

“How was the East Coast?” asked Rose. “And where did you stay?”

“The coast is spectacular,” said Brady. “We stayed in a beautiful little house on Cape Breton Island. Just the two of us. And the ghosts of course. The house wasn’t on the coast but on Cape Breton you’re never more than a few minutes from the coast anyway.”

“Ghosts? You and the ghosts?” Rose was both surprised and incredulous.

“The house was haunted,” said Amanda. “Who knew? The brochure didn’t mention that.”

There was a moment of silence while the others pondered this.

“Seriously? You stayed in a haunted house on your honeymoon?” said Jennifer. “How cool is that?”

“Well it was a little bit of a shock at first,” said Amanda, “but it turns out neither of us is afraid of ghosts and the ghosts didn’t seem to care that we were there as long as we stayed out of the second bedroom. Which was fine with us since we didn’t mind sharing a bedroom.”

“Especially a bedroom with a $30,000 antique Victorian four-poster bed in it,” added Brady.

“My goodness,” said Rose. She turned to Andrew. “We’ve never slept in a $30,000 bed.”

“Depends how you look at it,” said Andrew. “If you factor in everything that’s come out of it our bed has cost us a lot more than that!”

“True enough,” said Rose, “though it’s not the same thing at all.”

Brady laughed. “The problem with a $30,000 bed is, if you have one you feel like you need to stay in it most of the time to make sure you’re getting your money’s worth.”

“Which is less of a problem when you’re on a honeymoon I suppose,” said Rose. “But you did find other things to do I’m guessing?”

“Oh yes!” said Amanda. “We drove the Cabot Trail, we saw humpback whales and bald eagles and moose and puffins and ate oysters and lobster and mussels and salmon and saw the Rankin Family play at a little pub in Baddeck…”

“And that was just Monday,” said Brady. “Tuesday we didn’t get up till two.”

“I just changed my mind,” said Jennifer. The others turned to look at her. “About getting married,” she said. “I’ve decided I want a honeymoon.”

Amanda laughed. “And you should have one someday,” she said. “But when the time comes don’t forget there’s only one detail that really matters.”

“Really?” said Jennifer. “What’s that?”

Amanda looked up at Brady. “Whom you go with,” she said.

Brady grinned. “You got that right,” he said turning his head to kiss Amanda’s forehead. “You sure got that right!”

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“Rose, darling?” he said.

“Yes dear?” Rose didn’t even open her eyes, and remained motionless on her beach lounger a foot to Andrew’s right.

“Rose darling,” said Andrew, “I’m afraid a dragonfly has landed on the brim of my hat.”

Rose opened her eyes at this, and managed to glance over Andrew’s way without moving her head. “So it has,” she said, and closed her eyes again. “Is it a problem honey?”

“Only insofar as it makes me cross-eyed to look at it,” was Andrew’s reply. “I was wondering,” he added, “if you would consider flicking it off for me.”

There was a lengthy silence. Andrew wondered momentarily whether Rose had fallen asleep.

“Flick it yourself,” she said finally.

Andrew sighed. “The truth is,” he said, “I ain’t in a dragonfly-flickin’ mood.”

“In that case,” said Rose, “I suggest you stop looking at it. Distract yourself with something else. Study the cloud formations. See what kinds of animals they look like, then give them names. Cloud pets. You don’t have to feed them or walk them or try to make them shut up. And they don’t die, they just fade away. Perfect holiday pets.”

“I could do that,” said Andrew. “Or I could distract myself by studying the very lovely lady in the very fetching and quite sexy bathing suit, lying on the lounger next to mine,” said Andrew. “But that would require turning my head, and I ain’t in a head-turning mood.” He paused. “Is that glow I detect coming from your direction just sunburn, or are you blushing?”

“Definitely sunburn,” said Rose. “I am far too relaxed to blush. Later after the sun goes down, when we’re back in the RV, you can make me blush.”

“It’s very likely that I will,” said Andrew, “once the sun is down and the heat is less… hot.” He closed his eyes and let the sun do what it wanted, which at the moment seemed to be to try to set fire to his hat. Another silence ensued.

“What are you thinking my dear?” said Rose eventually. “If you are thinking, that is.”

“I was thinking of going for a swim,” said Andrew. “I am sweating like a racehorse.”

“Me too,” said Rose. “Although I’m perspiring, not sweating. I’ll race you to the water,” she added.

“Ha,” said Andrew, “I will leave you so far behind you will be picking the sand from my flying feet out of your teeth for a week.”

“Last one in is a rotten egg,” said Rose then lapsed back into silence.

“Gosh I love holidays,” said Andrew.

“Me too,” said Rose. “And your swimming idea was a good one, except for the one major drawback.”

“I know,” said Andrew. “It would require moving.”

“I will do it though,” said Rose, “because I’m crazy hot. Count us down darling, and when you say go, I will seriously beat you to the water.”

“Count us down?” said Andrew. “How high should I start? Three? Ten?”

“Say… 300,” said Rose. “That’ll give me time to psych myself up.”

“OK,” said Andrew. “Starting now. I’ll let you know when I get down to 10.” He fell silent but his lips indicated that he was indeed counting down. Rose watched him with a smile, for a long minute.

“Ten,” said Andrew, and Rose leaped from her lounger and raced for the water, flinging her hat and her sarong off as she ran.

Andrew was caught flat footed for a second but in a moment he was on his feet and dashing after her. For a moment he thought he would catch her but her head start was too much for him and all he could do was to follow her lead and fling himself bodily into the cool, if not entirely clear, water. He surfaced beside her as she shook the water from her eyes, giggling like a teenager.

“I beat the pants off you old man,” she laughed.

“You cheated,” said Andrew throwing his arms around her and lifting her easily in the water. “And you didn’t entirely beat the pants off me. They are still hanging on around my ankles.”

Rose giggled again. “Oh my,” she said. “Now you’re cheating. It’s too early for that.”

“Too early for making me blush,” said Rose.

Andrew grinned as he tipped her head back and kissed her neck. “Never,” he said. “It’s never too early for that.”

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