I am paranoid that I am going to lock my one set of keys in my truck, or in my trailer (It’s not that I have a wild imagination. It’s that I have a good memory.) On the advice of the friendly fellow at Home Hardware yesterday (Sunday), who couldn’t help me with my encrypted Toyota key, I called the locksmith in Canmore this morning on the off chance that I could get keys cut before setting off. No joy there, so Pai and I said goodbye to her room with a view…
… and hit the road for Taber.
I haven’t mentioned that I hate my Toyota GPS. Hate it. Hate, hate, hate it. I hated it even more this morning when it insisted that I turn onto Blackfoot Trail, when it meant Deerfoot Trail, as my off ramp choice from Calgary’s busy freeway. Granted, Calgary uses the words “foot” and ‘trail” with reckless abandon in its road system, but still. The GPS rang its little bell furiously at the wrong turn off, then got all huffy when I was on the wrong road (that’s the road you sent me down, bitch), and snarkily suggested that I do a U-Turn onto the opposite on-ramp. I wouldn’t pull that in my truck alone, never mind a truck and trailer.
After string of curse words that lasted five minutes, give or take, as I eased my trailer through traffic and got back on the right road, my mood did perk up with the recollection that Wayde’s emergency package had already arrived at Vanessa’s in Taber. In it were the bale bags that would replace the (comparatively ghetto) tarps covering my hay rack, as well as the cords I’d forgotten that would let me run TomTom, the GPS that actually does its job.
We stopped in tiny Nanton for lunch, and met Jorge and his kids, who wanted to greet the caballo. (Chicas – tuve la oportunidad de hablar en español en este pequeño pueblo canadiense. ¡Que bueno!)
At Vanessa’s, Pai is sharing digs with a late-gelded Shetland pony who apparently thinks he’s The Man, but who has gotten schooled by the grey girl. He is an absolute cutie-pie, and I’m sure he thought he would have his way with the pretty lady, but he instead spent a large part of the evening with his nose in one corner of his paddock, because that’s where she told him to stay. He tried to move a couple of times, but she reminded him that this (the entire paddock) was her space, and that (one tiny corner) was his space.
By night time, she was letting him move around a little bit. But only if he were good.
Vanessa and Brady, with little two year old Ruby, had the parents over for a BBQ. Vanessa & Co live on Brady’s family farm – two thousand acres. That’s a big farm. Vanessa’s dad is an apiarist, and I learned that while the bees of course make honey, their main purpose out here is for crop pollination. Who knew? Taber is all about sugar beets – another fact I never knew. Their corn is apparently famous too.
We had some thunder and lightning, and some rain, and a rainbow.
And it’s 20-something degrees – a little balmier than Canmore. Still thundering like crazy.