"If You..."

Have you ever read the children's book, "If You Give a Pig a Pancake"? Or Moose a Muffin, Mouse a Cookie....Well, the prose goes something like this: If you do this, then this will happen, then this will happen, then this will happen. You get the point. As a stay at home mom, my life could be written like one of those books. (Or maybe I've been reading those books too much and should switch to Dr. Suess).
Yesterday our little grocery store had it's easter special, 20% off of everything. I splurged and bought ice cream. Yum. Eleven dollars for a half gallon of chocolate chip. I've been wanting ice cream for a long time. Not Eskimo ice cream. The real unhealthy stuff.

Sorry. Back to pigs and pancakes. Here is today's version:
If you give Ruby a scoop of ice cream, she'll agree to eat it outside with you.
While outside, she'll see her friend and want to play. They will both play happily in the puddles as you watch with the baby. Because she's with a friend, she won't mind playing outside for two hours; but eventually she'll have to come in because she needs dry clothes. When you change her clothes, she'll notice her passie, and decide to take a nap. When she is sleeping, you will have the chance to give the baby sister independent play.
Now Dagny has free reign of her big sister's toys. Because the baby is preoccupied, you have a chance to finish the binding on the quilt. Now that the quilt is finished, you can wrap it up to be sent. When Ruby awakes, she will want to go back outside and walk to the post office.
And since you are walking to the post office, you might as well stop at the Panakukak store. And when you're at the store, what else should you get but more ice cream.

Warmth in the Blizzard

Last night I bundled up at 9:30pm to walk a half mile in a blizzard. Wind was blowing snow circles  as I walked down the hill toward the river. The snow had made high banks in some places; I had to climb them over to continue walking down the road. It was -4 degrees with the wind chill at -33. But I knew that I'd be sweating soon.

For over a year, I've been thinking up ways to spend time with women in the village. Finally I'm beginning to become involved in the community, in a way I least excepted, by bathing with them. Most families here do not shower regularly. In fact, some don't have a working bath area in the house. They steam, from a small two-room shack next to their houses.
Steaming, or they call it maqi.
Vinnie Gust lights the steam every evening, giving the men two or three hours to wash. Then, it's the girl's turn. Vinnie's wife, Koodie will call me around 9pm.
"Maqi time," she'll say. No excuses allowed. Not even last night's blizzard.

The first few times were very awkward for me. I'd try to advert my eyes to the coats or corners of the room every time ladies would move around me. I'd stare at the floor during conversations, or try to cover myself with a facecloth. It only took a few more times for me to be comfortable with it all.

The maqi house is a low ceiling, low lighting hut. You enter into a small room first, a foggy sauna. Here you undress and sit and chat with everyone. Three or four times you'd get up and go into the darker, smaller, MUCH hotter room with a stove- an oil barrel tipped to the side, covered with wood and rocks. There are no benches in this room, so we either squat, sit or lay on towels - depending how many ladies go in at once. There are basins for washing, bird wings for slapping (this brings more heat, I guess), and a dipper for splashing. This room can get up to 300 degrees, so we don't spend too long here. Just enough to ease aching muscles, warm the bones, or feel sweat beads boil on our backs.

The smell is mix of burning wood and Herbal Essence bodywash- reminds me that this town is all about meeting tradition with modern day life.

Last night, Koodie hands me what looks like a clothe napkin with grapes and vines on it.
"I bought this for you in town. It's your new bum towel to sit on. Your other one is too big."
Thanks, Koodie. I feel like I'm sworn into this circle of women now.

The maqi is also for naked conversations. Some gossip, some share stories of their youth, others comment to make laughter. It's here that I listen and learn new things; things that would've never been undressed outside the bath house.

We ended at 11:30pm. The blizzard had gotten worse and walking back home was more like climbing back.  But it wasn't cold. I was still warm.
In fact, I can guarantee I leave clean and emotionally refreshed every time.