My start to the day was way earlier than intended, even with needing to get up earlier because I was going to my mother’s!

I’ve been keeping my bedroom door closed overnight, with just Butterscotch and Ginger, because they get bothered by other cats so much. When I can, I include Tiny, who also gets bullied by other cats. Unfortunately, that results in cats scratching at my door frequently during the night. This not only wakes me up, it’s damaging the door. In the time it takes me to get up and get to the door with a spray bottle, whatever cat is doing it is long gone.

This morning, when I found myself up at about 4:30 am, I decided to leave my door open as I tried going back to bed. As soon as the other cats came in, though, the fighting, growling, scratching (sometimes even on the scratch pad or tower), hairball horking, and jumping all over the place kicked right in!

I finally gave up and got up well before my alarm was due to go off. I topped up the cat food bowls in the dining room, mostly just making noise to get their attention, since they still had plenty of food, and managed to get most of them distracted from destruction in my room.

I headed outside next to feed the yard cats. I didn’t see Zipper anywhere which, after what happened with Kale, has me concerned, but then I didn’t see some of the other kittens, either. I find myself wondering if Caramel is trying to move her babies to the farm across the road from us. Yesterday, I caught her encouraging one of her kittens to follow hear, while heading in that direction. No one lives there permanently, but there is still the house, barn and many outbuildings. I picked up the kitten and brought it back to the sun room, just to be on the safe side. I will know better when I do the evening feeding, if we are missing some kitties.

Once the furballs were fed, I did the rest of my rounds, including checking the garden beds. They did not need watering this morning, which was good, since I didn’t have time to do it before leaving.

The transplants are still looking really rough, but that’s not stopping them from blooming! Especially the winter squash.

These are just one variety in the picture, but all three varieties in this bed have blossoms. Almost all are male flowers, though I did see one female flower bud. I should probably prune all these flowers off right now, which should send more energy to plant growth rather than flower blooming.

I was also very happy to have my first garlic scape harvest!

Just a few were ready for picking, but we will have more, soon! On the way back to the house, I grabbed a few chive blossoms, too. I included some of each in my breakfast. 😊

I headed back out later and harvested some rhubarb and lettuce to bring to my mother, before changing and heading out. Expecting today to be warmer, I decided to wear my new caftan style summer dress. It’s bright red with bold patterns in green, yellow, white and black. My mother has seen me in it before and laughed at me, saying it looked like I was wearing pajamas (she meant night gown, but I think she forgot the word in English). So I knew I’d get some sort of blowback for wearing it. I also wore my new shoes in matching red, and the sparkly gold hat my daughter bought for me, to add to my sparkly hat collection. I always wear a baseball style hat – I feel naked without one! – when I head outside, and have work hats and going out hats. The sparkly ones are my going out hats.

Before I left, I went over to my daughter as she was making herself breakfast, struck a pose and asked, how do I look? I pretty much never wear such bright colours or patterns, and wear dresses even less often. My daughter loved it, then laughed and said my mother would have things to say!

So, I did know at least some of what was coming.

The plan was to take my mother to the lab for her bloodwork when they opened at 9, or after her morning med assist. I seemed to remember that the morning home care worker came just before 9am, but I wasn’t sure. I had told my mother I would be there between 8:30 and 9. After the lab work, I would do her grocery shopping, then had my own errands to run.

I arrived shortly after 8:30 and delivered the rhubarb and lettuce. My mother was quite happy with that.

Then I settled at the table to get her lock box and remove the bloodwork form for this month. That’s when my mother noticed my bright red shoes.

She somehow managed to compliment me on the shoes, while laughing and insulting me for the dress, at the same time.

Then she started in on the hat, which I’ve already worn to her place, quite a few times. That style, she told me, was for men. Because it had a visor. Men’s hats have visors. I pointed out, it’s gold and sparkly, so it’s hardly a “men’s hat” (not that it couldn’t be, but my mother wouldn’t think so).

She then started to tell me, people dress so strangely these days!

😂😂

I told her, it’s just styles. They change.

All of this is pretty typical of my mother and pretty expected.

Meanwhile, I got the form out and she ordered me to give her her pills. I had already confirmed that the home care aide hadn’t arrived yet, so I told her no, the aid will be here soon. It’s not even 9:00 (it was coming up on 8:45 by then, so I’d been there for less than 10 minutes). She then started going on about the times and eventually mentioned that no one had shown up for Saturday morning, so that meant they weren’t going to come today.

????

This was the first I’d heard of this. I told her, if that happens, call me! If they haven’t shown up by 10, then she needs to call me so I can come in.

By 10? They’re supposed to be here at 8.

???

She was recently given a new 2 week schedule, and it was taped to her wall, so I checked it. The schedule includes both the days and dates, then the scheduled med assist times for each day. As I started looking at it, she berated me for looking at the wrong date, so obviously, she could see the schedule, even with her macular degeneration. I found the right date, then pointed out to her that all the scheduled visits for each day are at the same times. Mornings are from 9-9:10. Afternoons, 6:55-7. I forget the last one, but it was also a 5 minute visit. All the times were the same for the two weeks on the schedule, along with the names of who was supposed to do the visits.

My mother’s response was, they changed it?

She thought they were supposed to come at 8, even though she could see the schedule, taped to the wall right in front of where she sits at her dining table.

She still demanded I give her her medications. I said no. They have forms to fill out. I’m not going to mess with their system.

I was berated for wanting to follow the rules.

Once the lock box was set aside, we settled in to just chat while we waited, and I mentioned how hot and humid it was. She thought I meant outside, and I told her it’s hot and humid outside, too, but I had meant inside. My mother doesn’t feel the heat at all, these days.

She didn’t understand the word humid, though, and thought I meant the smoke. I told her there wasn’t any smoke visible when I came in, but that would just be because of the wind direction. The big fire across the lake was still burning out of control.

That’s when things went downhill, fast.

She started talking about how terrible it was that “they” were starting fires. And by “they”, my mother basically means not-white people. Sometimes she seems to mean Muslims, sometimes First Nations, sometimes just any of the recent imports. When I pointed out that not all of these fires are arson, and many are in isolated regions, where there are no roads and no people, she told me that “they” would still go there! If they can burn churches, they would burn forests, too.

Now, as an aside, we do have real problems with this. In past years, the RCMP have uncovered plots from people connected to Islamic terrorist groups that specifically included starting many forest fires. There is also the issue of imports (I will not insult genuine immigrants by calling the imports, immigrants). Canada’s federal government has allowed well over 800,000 imports in just the first 4 months of 2025. That’s roughly equivalent to the population of the city of Winnipeg. This while going on about how they’re going to cut back on how many people they let in because of the housing crisis. These are not people undergoing the requisite checks and balances normally required during the immigration process, and there is a much larger problem if human trafficking involved, but that’s a whole different topic.

There is also the real problem of churches being vandalized and burned. The number is well over 100 now, and this started after the mass graves hoax that our former Prime Dictator, T2, actually condoned, even as he condemned it. He literally did both in the same sentence. Many of these are blatant hate crimes, but they’re not being investigated. What my mother doesn’t understand is that many of these churches that were vandalized and burned because of the mass graves hoax are actually churches on reserves. A lot of Fist Nations people are Christian, and those churches are incredibly important to their communities.

My mother, however, can’t grasp that. In her mind, white people are Christian. Which makes me wonder what she really thinks about the very dark priest from India serving her church right now! Or the Filipino family with their delightful gaggle of children that attends her church.

So that’s a bit of the background on that.

I tried to tell my mother, she’s talking about two different things. Yes, the church burnings are a problem, but that is not connected to the wildfires. It’s fire season. Some fires are started by stupid people throwing their cigarette butts out the window, yes, there is sometimes arson, but mostly these are lightning strikes. There simply aren’t people around to start most of the fires where they are.

She then started to accuse me of “protecting” “them”, saying “I’m not stupid” (meaning, she knows what is REALLY going on, but I don’t) and that I was just like…

At that point she used a word I didn’t understand. It was one of her made up words that she comes up with, like referring to women doctors as “psheepshee”. I had to ask several times, what was she talking about, before she said she meant the home care worker she’d had an incident with before. This home care worker had made a request to not be assigned to my mother anymore because of my mother’s racist comments, so we were all surprised that she was back. My mother had acknowledged she did not behave properly, though I don’t know that she ever apologized directly to this woman. Clearly, based on what my mother was saying now, any apology she might have made was not at all genuine!

So there she was saying I was “protecting” people just like this… whatever the word was… home care worker. (Granted, I would also have a problem with someone who said she supported pro-terrorist protesters, but we don’t know exactly what went down, since they both have told different stories about the incident.) All for pointing out that she was talking about two different things, and not all fires are arson.

Then I guess my mother remembered that my husband is Metis, because she suddenly asked, “is there any white blood left in you?”

…

At that point I told her, flat out, she was being disgusting, and when did she get all this hate in her heart?

She then started crossing herself, and I called her out on that particular behaviour, too. That led to her questioning my faith and making some other inappropriate comments.

Which is when I told her, I was done.

I put the paperwork back in the lock box and left. I was not going to take her for her lab work, nor do her grocery shopping, after that.

While I put the form away, my mother just sat there, silently, with a very familiar smug smile on her face that she puts on when she is utterly convinced of her righteousness.

I was not going to put up with her abuse.

I was there for less than 15 minutes.

At some point, I’ll need to go back and get her to the lab and do her grocery shopping, but not today.

Once in the truck, I updated the family very briefly – both at home and in the group chat with my siblings. I then headed out to do what was supposed to be my afternoon errands, and went to the nearest Walmart.

I just got interrupted by a cat altercation that brings me to one of the things I found at Walmart to try. A “calm & content”, “liquid vet” solution. Chicken flavoured. It’s meant to be fed to a stressed out cat during meal time, with doses based on weight. We have several cats that seriously need to be de-stressed! It has a 100% money back guarantee, so we’ll see how it works. I also picked up a couple of sprayers for the hose; I only need one right now, but with how quickly they seem to break down, I got an extra. I did get what I hope are higher quality ones.

The shopping done and the truck loaded, I just started to leave the parking lot when my phone rang.

It was home care.

I shuddered to think they needed me to do the morning med assist. It well past 10 by then. It turned out that my mother had called them because no one had showed up for her morning med assist. The scheduler had checked and confirmed that the home care aid was running behind, and that she would be going to my mother’s next. I briefly let her know I’d been there earlier and had to leave because of my mother’s behaviour. Fair warning that she might not be at her best when the home care aid arrived. The scheduler appreciated the warning.

I was just glad I wasn’t going to have to go back to my mother’s today.

I could finally head home, which was an uneventful drive except…

Why was my oil pressure gauge on the low side like that?

It hasn’t been that long ago that a leaking gasket was discovered, and that’s why we had been losing oil. Because of where it was leaking, we never saw any oil under the truck, nor have we been seeing any lately. We had also still had issues with the MAF sensor, so we had that replaced, the engine cleaned and an oil change done, all at once. It’s been running fine, ever since.

I did confirm that, based on the mileage on the sticker, we are due for an oil change, though the onboard computer says we’re still good to go.

Once at home and the truck unloaded, I grabbed some paper towel and checked the oil level. Which is incredibly frustrating. I honestly can’t tell where the oil level is. It either looks all wet, or not at all. I do wish the dip stick could be a light colour, rather than basically the same colour as the oil! I eventually concluded it was a bit low and added my last half liter of oil that I had in the truck and checked again. I found it even harder to see the oil level at that point.

*sigh*

So I called the garage and told them what I was seeing. They couldn’t fit me in today, but I now have an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. They’ll do an oil change and check for a leak.

Meanwhile I had a message from my daughter. The autobody place called about our insurance claim while I was gone, so I called them back.

The insurance company has agreed to the off-market box cover that would fit our truck, that the shop had managed to find. We would be paying the 30% “betterment” cost, on top of our deductible. The guy at the repair department needed to look over the truck, though. I now have an appointment for Thursday afternoon. He’ll look over the damage, including the broken tail light, so he knows exactly what parts he will need to order. The insurance company says they won’t cover the tail light because they don’t think it was caused by the box cover being ripped off the truck and twisting the frame in the process, and I have no way to prove otherwise. The autobody place might be able to find a cheaper off-market one for us, though. Otherwise, we could go to the garage and ask if they can find one from a scrap yard, instead. These things are pretty expensive, new.

Once the guy has the information he needs, they’ll be able to look it all up and give an exact cost to us, including the deductible. We can then decide whether to go ahead with the repair and replacement or not. Budget is very tight right now, but my older daughter has said she can help out.

All of this, and it was just past noon by the end of the call with the autobody place.

I am so ready to call it a day.

The Re-Farmer