Citizens file application to halt SaskPower’s expansion of gas fired generation

Saskatoon, SK. April 14, 2023 - Saskatchewan Power Corporation, Crown Investments Corporation of Saskatchewan, and the Government of Saskatchewan will be challenged in court by Saskatchewan citizens who are deeply concerned about the impacts of dangerous climate change. Climate Justice Saskatoon and seven Saskatchewan residents, aged 15 to 80, filed an application at the Court of King’s Bench on March 31, 2023, claiming that government action to expand gas-fired electricity generation violates our Charter rights to life, security of person, and equality.

SaskPower is currently building a new gas-fired electricity plant near Moose Jaw and is planning to build another near Lanigan, SK. The current provincial Management and Reduction of Greenhouse Gas Regulations permit SaskPower to increase its greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions, thereby accelerating dangerous climate change. Saskatchewan has the highest GHG emissions per capita in Canada and according to the Supreme Court of Canada and our

Saskatchewan Court of Appeals, we face an existential threat to the future of all life on this planet caused by ongoing GHG emissions.

Dangerous climate change is upon us and is made worse by these inexcusable actions by our government and SaskPower. The applicants argue our Charter rights are violated and that the government has a duty to mitigate its emissions. The applicants are asking the Court to order SaskPower to set a reasonable target to decarbonize and achieve Net-zero emissions as soon as possible.

This Court application should provide helpful clarification for all parties and spur important dialogue about our shared power future.

For more information contact:

Email: info@sustainablesask.ca or climatejusticeyxe@gmail.com

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Sincere thank you to all who sent cards, food, phone calls and prayers following the death of our son Warren.

God Bless everyone.

Jack, Janet Norrie and Family there was a very distinct difference between "no-brainer" and "no brains".

We were visiting my mother-in-law, Grandma B, at her acreage.

Mrs B and I had been married for a few years at the time and I was no longer the rookie son-in-law. The performance clause and trade option in my contract were still enforceable, though, so I was continuing my efforts to gain a position on the permanent (keeper) roster.

It was late in the spring and some time had passed since "The Dishwasher Incident" (see RM Review June, 2022).

I think Grandma had somehow, maybe, forgotten about it (forgiven me?) because she asked me if I could paint the garage entrance way, it had just been drywalled.

The garage entrance way was the room that connected the house to the garage and was used as an entry to both the garage and the house. It had a cement floor that was a continuation of the garage floor and was the place to hang wet coats and leave muddy boots when coming in from outside. On the house side of the room, a few steps led up to a small wooden landing providing access into the house. It wasn’t a large room, but painting it would be about a day’s work, I thought.

I went into town and bought paint and paint trays and rollers and brushes. I came back and got right to work and made pretty good progress.

And then they left.

I was still standing there, pondering what my in-laws had been trying to say when the door to the house opened and Grandma stepped out. She looked around and said how pretty and cheerful the room looked and thanked me.

Grandma being kind and gracious and calm and patient.

Now there is a little more to this story because you see, beneath Grandma's kind and gracious manner and underneath her calm and patient demeanour there resided a sense of humour which could sometimes almost be described as mischievous.

My birthday came not too long after I painted the garage. And as usual, Grandma sent me a shirt as a birthday gift. The kind of shirt she sent would always be western-style with a buttondown collar, front placket and two breast pockets - good material and a nice weight. And the one she sent me for this particular birthday was all of that - it was a good-looking shirt. It was also pink - very pink - pinker than the garage, even.

But I thought, Oh, well, it's a western shirt, it'll probably be OK, I can wear it for Stampede.

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I had just about finished by late afternoon when two of my in-laws, having heard of my painting project, dropped by to check it out, see how I was doing. And I think, really, they just wanted to make sure I hadn't painted any cows. Especially, not any of their cows. The conversation went less well than I would have hoped.

The two relatives expressed some, um, surprise, I guess, that I was painting the room in a bright pink colour.

So, I explained to them that I had gone to the paint store and was looking at the paint and thinking it was sort of expensive - it was $45 for a little onelitre (one quart) can. But then I noticed the discount rack and saw I could get a great big can, 20 litres (5 gallons), for just $20.

Yes, it was a custom-mixed pink colour that some customer had decided he didn't want, hence the deep discount, but still, it seemed like such a good deal, sort of seemed like a no-brainer, especially since there was also more than enough paint to continue the pink motif into the garage itself.

I explained all of this to the two inlaws, confident in my reasoning and anticipating their agreement. And I was right there as I watched them look at each other, knowingly, as if I had confirmed their suspicions, somehow. They both turned to look at me and, speaking very slowly, explained that

The Calgary Stampede was scheduled for just shortly after I received the shirt from Grandma.

My employer encouraged us to dress western, to get into the spirit of Stampede and show our support and civic pride.

On the first day of the 2-week long rodeo and exhibition, a Monday, I got dressed for work in my Stampede western wear.

There I was - outfitted in my new pink shirt with my coolest pair of faded blue jeans and my scuffed-in-a-manly-way cowboy boots - I figured I was rockin' it.

I had just arrived at work, taken the elevator up, and stepped out onto my floor.

A lady co-worker was passing by at the same time and seeing me, she commented - in a voice that seemed overly loud and with an annoying tone“Oh, Mr. B - I didn’t know you were so sensitive”. Yikes.

I had no trouble figuring out what those words meant, no pondering needed there.

I had to hide out in my office for the rest of the day, all day, and I went straight home after work. There was no stopping off for a beer with the guys, no dally-ing, just straight home.

That Grandma.