Bush Kid Intro....oh wait!!! That's me we're talking about....

Hello!  Welcome to my blog!  So I've jumped into this whole blogging world with NO IDEA what exactly I'm doing, but hey, I'm jumping in headfirst because that's how I roll.

I'm Carrie. Carrie Ann to be legally correct.  29ish years ago (just kidding, it's been 30!!!) I was second-born, into a family of 4 kids. My dad is a mixed farmer (meaning he grows crops and cattle) and my mom recently retired from her 33(?) year career as a nurse.  I am an avid reader, amateur photographer, wife, mum, farmer, wannabe gardener, animal lover, and a bit of a rambler. (blame my Dad on those last two!)

I was born in Northern Saskatchewan, Canada.  I won't be specific of where, but it was north. Contrary to international popular belief, Saskatchewan is not entirely flat & full of wheat fields & never-ending horizons. (That starts around Saskatoon and includes mostly everything south)  Far from it.  I feel like we have one of the most diverse landscapes in Canada.  I grew up on the edge of the boreal forest.  Some will say "hillbilly/redneck/backwoods/Indian country" but that's just degrading.  Don't get me wrong, there are "those kinds" around there too, but my family was-fortunately-not. We were "bush kids".  Raised to respect our environment, respect the animals that live there, but not to let it deter you from living a life well-lived.

My paternal great-grandparents came to the farm in the late 30's.  They originally came from the Saskatoon, SK area- Osler & Vonda, to be precise.  They moved around the western provinces, looking for work after they were married.  My paternal grandpa was born in BC, and he came with his parents & two younger brothers to the farm owned by William Cowland, of the Edward Lake district.  The country was so very different from the land around Saskatoon.  It was fertile land and it wasn't a dust bowl.  It was bush. They purchased the farm and cleared most of the land with heavy-horses, as most pioneers did.  In case you are wondering what all this background info has to do with me....well....I'm getting to the point eventually here.  The farm is situated just east of a little creek that runs into Chitek Lake- Robinson Creek is the name.  Behind that, is roughly 5 miles of swamp.  In all of those dry years in the 30's & 40's, I'm sure that creek & swamp was a welcome adjustment. Here's the kicker: I'm also positive that my forebears had at least one pair of rubber boots-after all, they were pioneers in a rugged land.

Growing up, we always had rubber boots.  I mean, some years you wore them for about 4 months of the year (the other 8 months were winter boots, ha ha!). At high-school track meets or during gym class, you knew who the bush/farm kids were because they had that distinguished ring around their calves from the tops of their rubber boots chafing constantly.  I was one of those poor souls at said track meets & gym classes.

 Living where we lived, between the swamp and the bush, we had plenty of work to occupy our time.  My dad and my grandpa will say that we didn't work hard at all.  If you want to compare what our chores were to those of other kids from town or the reserve nearby, even other farm kids, you bet we worked hard! We milked cows & fed cattle. We had chickens and turkeys & even a couple geese that liked to hiss & chase us. We had wooden grain bins to sweep out. We also had a wood furnace in our house.  My grandparents live in the same yard and their house was heated with wood too.  Everything was heated using wood-even the water trough for the cattle.  We spent most winters sawing logs and stacking them. Even now, my dad will wait for "the kids" to come home, so that he & my 80 year old grandpa have help to gather fire-wood to fuel the wood-boiler. However; time was  equally spent having fun too.  Snowmobiling, ice-fishing, and skating in the winters.  Boating, swimming, fishing, quadding in the summers.

I left the farm (and the bush) after graduating from the nearby small town's high-school.  I'll admit, at that point in my life, I hated it there.  We were so far from everything-the big cities, town, the population in general.  I wanted to get as far away from it as possible.  So one day as I was perusing The Western Producer, I found an ad in the classifieds section that intrigued me.  The hook: International Agriculture Exchange.  I was definitely hooked-INTERNATIONAL!!!!!  PEOPLE!!!!  I went on our dial-up internet (that's all you could get in the rural areas 15 years ago) and contacted the exchange association.  I wanted to get away from the stinkin' bush-I picked pretty much the farthest spot in the world from our little farm-Australia.  I moved to Saskatoon to make some money for my trip.  Not surprisingly, I chose to work at a farm equipment manufacturer.  There, surprisingly, I met MY farmer. (of course I just had to find a farmer to fall in love with)  Even though we met at an awkward time in my life, we hit it off and started dating. However, I had booked my plane tickets and wasn't about to back away from a once in a lifetime opportunity.  I left on a plane for Australia 8 months later, and he grudgingly accepted that I had to go.

After spending my 7 month stint on a cattle property in Queensland-which I loved every second of-I missed home.  I missed my family, I missed my boyfriend, and I missed the bush and my rubber boots.  I arrived back home in Canada in spring, just in time to catch the end of our farm's calving season.  Rubber boot time!!!! Bush time!!!  Lucky me. :)  I soon moved to Saskatoon for work again, and was engaged to my farmer that November.  We married the following October(after harvest wrapped up, of course).

I have been married to my farmer for 8 1/2 years now.  We have two beautiful children who keep me entirely engrossed in day-to-day life.  They are my life. I am a stay at home mom, and the wife of a grain farmer.  The winters are long, and the summer's much too short. We have been lucky with our crops in the past 10 years, and I'm glad that I am able to stay home and raise my kids.  I chose this crazy life.  It's fun, challenging, and nothing I expected it to be, and I'm grateful for all the blessings in it.

But, it's missing one thing. The Bush.  My roots will always be north, buried deep in that beautiful, rich soil, beneath the evergreens, next to the swamp & the sand hills.  When life gets a little too hectic, and I tell myself I need to slow down & breathe, or the weather starts making everyone a little crazy (our home is located in a flood zone, so any little snowflake or raindrop makes us cringe) I just remember that I need two things to make me, ME again: the bush and my rubber boots.


So now you know the reasons behind my choice for a blog title, and you learned a little about my bush roots...and my rubber boots.

C