State of Emergency

While Spring is usually an eagerly anticipated time of year in most places, here in Manitoba, it means flood season. And this year is by all standards a bumper year when it comes to water.

It's everywhere.

And this is a good week or so before the two rivers crest. Yes, I said two. We have The mighty Red, which is the only major waterway that flows south to north here on this continent. This direction means it goes from warmer to colder in the spring. That means ice jams along the way, which cause the water to back up and spill overland. And right in downtown Winnipeg, the Red intersects with the Assiniboine, which travels west to east.

The local newspaper sent one of its editors, along with a camera man, to have a look-see at what parts of the area outside of Winnipeg look like. Hundreds of roads have been closed because of overland flooding. At least two people have died from driving on flooded roads and getting swept away. (Condolences to their families, but how stupid do you have to be?) Hundreds of people have been evacuated because of rising waters threatening homes, or just from being cut off by the flood waters.

http://bcove.me/1ir8uq7g (Red River Valley flood zone April 20/11)

In 1950, there was a terrible flood in Winnipeg. Much the same kind of thing, caused by the spring thaw, with a good portion of this city under water. The then premier ordered the building of the Floodway to move water around the city. Since then, there have been ring dikes built around towns and farms all over the southern portion of the province. There is a diversion canal to take water from the Assinibione River to Lake Manitoba as well. This year, sandbagging and shoring up (and building even higher) dikes was started early because the flood forecast was grim, both inside the city (along the river) and in a lot of surrounding towns and farms.

The provincial government guy in charge of infrastructure and such said that this year there will be as much (if not more) water as the 1950 flood, but because of the flood mitigation efforts, the damage in Winnipeg and a lot of towns will be minimal. And any houses built in the country since the 1997 flood (that was called the flood of the century) have to be built on a raised up mound of soil to prevent flooding. A lot of farms have built earthen dikes around their buildings to keep the floodwaters at bay. And for the most part, those efforts have paid off. But it is still pretty awe inspiring to see the video footage of what things look like right now.

It's only going to get worse before it gets better. Luckily, as I am now living on the 4th floor of a building, I will stay high and dry. However, if the water gets to my door, you'll need an Ark to survive!

Plum worn out!

Well, I am all moved in.... but I am plum worn out... and once I've had a chance to recuperate and gain back some strength (and get some sleep), I'll be back. The unpacking is just going to have to wait.

Just about done

I'm in the midst of a move... downsizing from a house to an apartment. I've donated/sold/given away so much stuff, you'd think I'd be possessionless!

Such is not the case, however. I still feel like I have way too much stuff for a 2 bedroom apartment, but once I get everything unpacked and put away, perhaps it will all fit.

The cats have enjoyed the ever changing playground of boxes. Little do they know that tomorrow they will be unceremoniously stuffed into their carrier and transported to the new place. I have a feeling it is going to be a noisy ride. But, like me, they are adaptable. They will like having their cat tree in front of their very own window and new digs to explore. Of course, all the furniture and accoutrements stay the same... just rearranged somewhat.

I've managed, with the invaluable help of Nephew #1, to get a lot of stuff moved yesterday. Today I will be taking my clothes over. And some stuff that's left that hadn't been packed yet. I have to go to the new place, unpack some kitchen stuff... and reuse the boxes.

I did decide to fork out the money for movers for the furniture, instead of subjecting my family and friends to yet another day of lugging stuff from one place to the other. I'm nice like that. ;-)

I also was warned last move that no one wanted to ever help again... because we are getting too old for this! I certainly felt all the aches this morning when I woke up. I'm okay now, but man! was I stiff and sore when I climbed out of bed!

Tomorrow evening, I will be disconnecting all electronics and carting them over to the apartment. The service guy comes in the afternoon on Wednesday to plug me in and get everything working.

Thursday will be cleaning day for the house, to make sure it's all spiffed up for the new owner. Then I can take my time, unpack my stuff, and settle in to my brand new digs.

And breathe a sigh of relief that this much of 2011's adventure is over.

If I had my axe...

WARNING: Graphic and disturbing images and descriptions follow in this post about cruelty to animals. Please be forewarned that this post may very well make any grown man cry, not just the women.


I came across a case of animal cruelty yesterday while reading the paper online. I have time on my hands and tend to spend some of it in front of this infernal machine.


If I had an axe (I do have a hatchet... that might work just as well and is more easily concealed beneath bulky clothing), and the ability to slip in and hack away a bit (just to maim, cause pain, and eliminate the ability to move around much) at the person responsible for this, I would. I was in tears of rage, horror and pain upon reading the story of this little dog and what that so called human has done to him. This just makes me sick. Be prepared to have your heart wrenched out of your chest...

This is the story of Patrick, a year old pitbull, so named because he was discovered in an apartment garbage chute the day before St. Patrick's Day in Newark, NJ. He had been stuffed into a garbage bag and tossed down the garbage chute, all because a certain woman could not be bothered to care for him properly. Obviously, she had never cared for him... ever. The guy who cleans out the chute every couple of days was doing so and saw that one bag moved a bit. He tore it open and found this:

A one year old pitbull should weigh about 50 lbs. They are not large dogs but are quite muscular. Patrick weighed just 20. In these photos, he does not even look alive, until you look at his eyes and see the plea there. How anything could have survived as long as he did is beyond me. He is a tenacious little guy, I guess, with a very strong will to live. The humane society people who first took him in felt that as well. They didn't give up on him.

He was so weak from dehydration and starvation that he could not even stand. He had pressure sores all over from lying down. Every single bone in his body stuck out. They still do but to a slightly lesser extent now as he's slowly starting to gain weight.

Is he not just the cutest little guy? My heart melts...

There seems to be an increase in cases like Patrick's. The sad state of the humans on this planet (not all, I know but still... I just don't understand why these things happen) is more and more evident by how we treat the other living creatures, not just others of our own kind.

The owner was found and the original "disorderly persons offenses" have been upgraded to indictable torment and torture charges. She could face up to 6 months in prison and a $10,000 fine. This has become a very publicly followed case so I hope the law throws the book at her. I also hope they ban her from ever again having pets of any kind. I cringe to think of how she would care for children... I don't know if she has any but perhaps they should think about banning her from procreating as well.


I don't have the words to describe the fury I feel for that woman...


This is the link to the Associated Humane Societes' website where they are posting Patrick's progress.

A time of change

It is now spring here in Winnipeg. Skeins of geese wend their way northward across the sky in ever increasing numbers, honking sporadically as they survey the massive remnants of snow that still cover most areas. The river is on the rise, as is the temperature, with the impending flood causing scurries of preparation work with dyke building and sandbagging of low lying properties in the city. Outside the city, meltwater already floods the fields, quietly awaiting the swell of the rising Red.

The change of seasons is well underway. Trees sport fattening buds. Tulips poke through the warming soil, only to have their leaf points nibbled off by hungry cottontails. Amorous birds abound, flitting through the trees, beaks stuffed with nesting materials.

My own nesting will begin on Saturday. I get the keys for the new place at 11:00 a.m. and plan to start moving things in bits and pieces right away, with the movers handling the big stuff on the 13th. I will be glad for the change of focus, as time has been dragging for me. Feeling like a wounded duck has not been the most pleasant scenario for me. I've always soldiered through injuries and tough times. This shoulder thing has sidelined me more than I care to admit, adding a feeling of vulnerability that is rather uncomfortable. Having something to keep me busy will be a welcome distraction as I fit my physio exercises into days of moving and unpacking.

A distinct shift also comes as one breaks the news today of a new job in another city, life to take a course away from me, tangents of contact thinning and breaking. Breaking too, is my heart. It is most definitely a time of change...