No Beefs, Just Bouquets

I’ve experienced so many events in the last while that made me wish I could hand out bouquets, I decided to present some here. Space allows for three and a half this time.

1.                  The RCMP.

One night around midnight, we awoke to a persistent DING-DING-DINGING of the doorbell. Seemed like an odd time of day for Welcome Wagon, but what do I know? Maybe this is how they do things in our new ‘hood.

By the time my knight in terrycloth bathrobe made his way to the front door, said bell-ringer had moved around to the side door and was BAM-BAM-BAMMING with still greater tenacity. Turned out he was being pursued by bad guys and wanted us to call the cops, which hubby gladly did while the frantic man waited on our deck. I won’t make the judgement call on who the actual bad guys were in this story. I just know the police arrived very quickly, to our relief, and handled things from there. Although it took a while to fall asleep again, I never left my comfy nest. Thank  you, officers!

2.                  Portage’s Public Works Department.

Leaving the house one Saturday morning, I noticed the fire hydrant next door spewing water, but didn’t think much of it. When I returned at suppertime, I learned a watermain break had occurred and we would be roughing it until Monday. 

Workers provided us with a weak trickle for an hour, in which we filled the tub for flushing, and we went to my sisters’ house for showers. I thought about how often we take our running water for granted, and how many people on our planet live without it or feel blessed to enjoy it for even an unpredictable hour each day.

Early Monday morning, crews dug a huge hole in the street. The workers accommodated us the best they could and by 4:00 p.m. everything returned to normal. Clean, clear, hot or cold water at our fingertips anytime we want. We truly are blessed, am I right? Thanks, guys.

3.                  The carnival volunteers at PEC.

Our two oldest grandsons, Buckwheat and Alfalfa, came for a weekend sleepover. (Spanky is too young for sleepovers. That’s grandma’s story and she’s sticking to it.)

On Saturday, we took them to the western carnival put on by Portage Evangelical Church. They loved it! Hay rides, train rides, pony rides, water games, bouncy castles and bouncy slides, face painting, balloons, all for free! Grandpa and I spent a whopping five bucks and we all consumed hot dogs and drinks, cotton candy and popcorn. 

As you can imagine, it takes an army to pull off such a terrific event. I doff my hat to all the volunteers who gave their time, talent, and energy on a hot day to express God’s love to their community. Well done! I sure hope you all went home to air conditioning that night. Thanks for giving us the opportunity to make a wonderful memory with our grandkids.

3 1/2.                  My 82 year-old step-dad, John Klassen.

The half bouquet goes to someone far too macho to appreciate flowers. He made my day with the suggestion that when I walk to work come winter, I should pull a sled behind me so I can soar down the other side of Tupper hill. Can you picture it?