I'm back at the Tim Horton's in Cold Lake, sucking up their free Wi-Fi and handling real estate running-around while Dave is at work. It was snowing this morning. Snowing. On April 18. I'm beginning to think spring is never going to get here, although yesterday was nice and I saw a teenaged girl carrying her shoes and walking barefoot beside the highway near the high school.
I have a lot of time on my hands, waiting for Dave to get through his work day. I don't feel like hiding away in the basement room he rents – as nice as the people are who own the house (and they are super nice, the best kind of people actually), I feel I don't want to interfere with their day. So I find coffee shops with wi-fi and sunny spots to read my Kindle. The other day I fell asleep in the car at the Cold Lake Marina, the sun making me warm and drowsy, the view of a vast frozen expanse of white oddly pretty and comforting. I slept for a couple of hours, rousing every once in a while as a plane roared overhead.
There are a few things you have to appreciate if you're going to live in Cold Lake. One of them is the planes. Cold Lake is home to Canada's largest air force base and all manner of military jets come and go at all hours. I could sit outside for hours and just watch the planes go by. You know, if it wasn't snowing... The military has a big presence in Cold Lake. There's a young woman in fatigues, waiting in line for a prescription at the drug store. She is bubbly and pretty, and she's talking to a friend on the phone about girly things while she stands tall in army boots, her blonde hair in a tight bun. There's a military policeman ordering breakfast at McDonald's. He wears a red beret and a dashing jaw and he is sharing early morning conversation with the smiling Filipino woman who fetches his coffee and Egg McMuffin. There are a lot of people here from the Philippines. Almost every restaurant, retail store and hotel has Filipino men and women on their payrolls. There are too many jobs in Cold Lake and not enough people to do them, so workers come from all over the world. For some reason the Philippines has become a primary source of workers willing to take the lower paying jobs. In Ontario those jobs are held by folks from India.
So there are military people from the base and Filipino workers behind the tills, and there are also the oil field workers. Men. Tons of men, all of them with greasy hands and muddy boots, all of them a zillion miles from home. They are the tradesmen and the labourers who have left their homes behind to make ridiculous amounts of money working for the big oil companies. Many are in the oil field camps for five weeks at a time, cut off from the rest of the world; others rent rooms in Cold Lake and are bussed out to the fields for long, cold, dirty days. Every motel, every apartment or spare room, is filled with the men of the fields. When Dave and I move here early this summer we will rent out two rooms in our house to these men. Their rent will pay our mortgage. This is how it is done in Cold Lake. The houses are expensive but the well-moneyed men are lined up for a place to rest their heads at night.
There is money everywhere. Money, and pick-up trucks. Almost everyone drives 4X4 trucks and even though there are at least three car washes in Cold Lake, these trucks are covered in mud. Part of it is from being in the oil fields. Part of it is the crappy roads. Seriously, the roads are terrible here. Pot holes the size of ponds. Nobody complains about it, though. Nobody worries. They just ride their big expensive pick-em-ups over the bumps and mud puddles, and carry on.
People are friendly here. This is a good place, I can feel it.
And if spring never arrives in Cold Lake, so be it. I shall buy a new coat and learn to curl.
If I put "K-K-K" in the title I'd probably be deluged with stupid KKK searches but I'm not talking about any white supremacist idiot clubs, I'm talking about Joe Pesci's much-loved Leo Getz character in the Lethal Weapon movie series.
I don't think I quote anyone as much as him. His uproarious repetition of the word OK cracks me up. I found this compilation of all his KKK's for your giggling pleasure. Enjoy it, OK? K? K...
I just snarfed down the most exquisite toasted coconut doughnut, I've got a large coffee half gone at my elbow and I'm sucking back the free wi-fi at Timmy's in Cold Lake, Alberta.
In a word, I am jocular.
Oh, J is also for Joke. A most hilarious and awesome waitress at Denny's in Edmonton said, "Wanna hear a joke?"
We nodded.
"Whaddya get when you cross a turtle with Viagra?"
Before we could guess she leaned forward on our table and whispered, "A slow poke."
Yes, there's still snow here. They don't call it Cold Lake for nuttin.
The seat belt sign was on, my ears were popping, the plane was descending ... and then, without warning, the plane swooped back up into the atmosphere. I watched the shadows changing on the wing out my window and realized the airplane was turning. Then the pilot came on the intercom. "Ladies and gentlemen, you may have noticed we are turning around. The winter storm isn't getting any better and the runways at Edmonton Airport are too icy to attempt at landing. We're going back to Saskatoon to wait for better weather."
Passengers all around me grumbled in disappointment. No one more than me. I hadn't seen my husband, Dave, for six weeks and couldn't wait to wrap my arms around him and plant a sound kiss on his soft lips. We were so close ... so close... and then we weren't.
Saskatoon was only a 40 minute flight from Edmonton and we got lucky. No sooner than we landed and unloaded for a much needed break, than the pilot announced a break in the weather and we were back on the plane headed west again. This time the descent was not interrupted. The jet landed safely (although it did wobble on an icy patch) and before I knew it I was sobbing like a baby in Dave's arms.
It was so good to see him. He was even handsomer than I remembered. It was a whole day before we started acting like old married people again.
All this flying back to Saskatoon stuff reminded me of one of my favourite Guess Who songs, "Running Back to Saskatoon." If you've never heard this classic Canadian song, give it a listen. If you haven't heard it lately, give it a click. It'll remind you of why you love Canada.
For me, it'll now and forever be about seeing Dave waiting for me at the airport gate in Edmonton. Finally.
Running Back To Saskatoon
There's a province up in Canada that's right next door to ours. It's called Saskatchewan. And, in that province there's a small town,
uh, where nothing much ever happens,
called Saskatoon. This is a tune about that town. Called "Runnin' Back To Saskatoon". I been hangin' around gas stations I been learnin' 'bout tires I been talkin' to grease monkeys I been workin' on cars Moose Jaw saw a few, Moosomin too Runnin' back to Saskatoon Red Deer, Terrace and a Medicine Hat Sing another prairie tune Sing another prairie tune I been hangin' around libraries I been learnin' 'bout books I been talkin' to play writers I been workin' on words, phrases Moose Jaw saw a few, Moosomin too Runnin' back to Saskatoon Red Deer, Terrace and a Medicine Hat Sing another prairie tune Sing another prairie tune I been hangin' around hospitals I been learnin' 'bout dyin' I been talkin' to heart doctors I been workin' on disease Moose Jaw saw a few, Moosomin too Runnin' back to Saskatoon Red Deer, Terrace and a Medicine Hat Sing another prairie tune Sing another prairie tune This tune is home grown Don't come from Hong Kong This tune is home grown Don't come from Hong Kong I been hangin' around grain elevators I been learnin' 'bout food I been talkin' to soil farmers I been workin' on land Moose Jaw saw a few, Moosomin too Runnin' back to Saskatoon Red Deer, Terrace and a Medicine Hat Sing another prairie tune Sing another prairie tune I been hangin' around camera stores I been learnin' 'bout sight I been talkin' to film makers I been workin' on eyes Moose Jaw saw a few, Moosomin too Runnin' back to Saskatoon Red Deer, Terrace and a Medicine Hat Sing another prairie tune Sing another prairie tune This tune is home grown Don't come from Hong Kong This tune is home grown Don't come from Hong Kong
