Dinner on the Road

Ms Katie and I spent most of four weeks 'camping out' in hotels. One was awesome, some great and a couple not-so-great. Our efforts at frugality included taking advantage of the hotel's complimentary breakfast and then our favorite dinner of choice, right out of the cooler - cheese and crackers!

"Ms Katie, may I surprise you with dinner tonight?"

Whatever table was in the room became our dining table; dressed with a clean white towel and usually adorned with a fresh bucket of ice, just unwrapped, clear plastic cups and a bottle of green tea. The two knives, one purple plastic for spreading soft cheese, and the sharp, stainless for cutting cheese were strategically placed within easy reach. Then came the feast - several different cheeses neatly wrapped and stored in an amazing ziplock container with a red lid and another ziplock, this time a bag, filled with crackers for every palate. With the background music of doors slamming and footsteps in the hall, we ate well and enjoyed every bite. Our conversation included laughter and silly stories from the day. Clean up was a breeze!

Our dinners became of source of fun and jokes...
It's my turn to cook tonight!
What can I tempt you with today - cheese, cheese or cheese?
Be careful now, don't let the cracker crumbs stain your shirt!
I worked so hard to tempt you with a fabulous dinner!
It will take hours to clean up this mess!

While Ms Katie and I really do like cheese and crackers it was great to arrive at sister Terri's to enjoy her cuisine. Our first day Terri says at lunch, "Can I get you some cheese and crackers?"

No, she did not know our dinner story.
Much laughter was had by all - along with the cheese and crackers!

Water Everywhere!

Ms Katie and I drove across Alberta, Saskatchewan and into North Dakota to return the US. There was water everywhere!


The fields looked like lakes;
The rivers looked like reservoirs;
The tree tops looked like bushes.

Water crept up to the roof lines;
Water covered the rail road bed;
Water filled the medians and lapped at the edges of the highway;
Water covered the highway and made lesser roads impassable.

On the left was a dry rise just large enough for a barn.
On the right was another rise with standing horses and nowhere for them to go.
In the gas station, two women lamented the loss of their homes, their livelihood and their independence.

Prayers for these women, their families and others who have lost their homes.
Prayers for the loss of jobs, income and security.
Prayers that the needed aid will come quickly and be enough.
Prayers for the people who must decide when to hold and when to release the abundance of water.

Fields, oil wells and farm stories...

Ms Katie was worried she would be bored driving through Alberta after the mountains!

Not so!

Alberta is farm land, beautiful fields, blue skies, warm sun, puffy clowds, rolling hills, oil wells (yes! Oil wells scattered on the hills and in the middle of the fields) and cows! Ms Katie knows her cows! The light colored ones, Guernseys, are the best for milk; the black ones, Black Angus, are best for steak; then there are the Holsteins, the Herefords and the White-faced somethings and the farm stories began...

At age 9 and 10 Ms Katie was responsible for bringing the cows home to milk. Every afternoon someone would help her mount the favorite family horse, Star. She would ride a mile and a half or so, round up the cows, bring them home and help milk. She had to be careful - if she fell off Star, she walked - she couldn't get on by herself.

Opa and brother Ike, broke wild horses. Opa loved horses and would win their hearts with bits of carrots and sugar. Eventually, Ike would mount and get bucked off, mount and get bucked off again and again. Opa had patience and Ike was young enough to not get broken himself.

At 14, brother Jack drove a team of horses home from cutting wood 20 miles north of the farm. The farm itself was on the north edge of the north! It was winter, cold and snowing. Really snowing! The farm dogs found him and led him home.

Sister Anne learned to drive in a model T! She drove it into a water filled ditch. Opa had to team up the horses to pull it out!

Sister Mary, the quiet, shy one was the first to move to the States.

Sister Theresa died at 35. She was much too young.

Brothers Harry and John, the youngest, did what the youngest of a large family on the farm do best - all the leftovers!! The chores no one else wanted to do!

There were stories of picking berries, feeding animals, walking to school and wearing home spun and knitted woolen stockings that itched and itched and itched; two story farm houses with only a wood stove and floor grates to warm the bedrooms, and traipsing out the door, down the path, through the cold and sometimes dark and wondering why it was a two holer when only one person used it at a time!

Wonderful, precious stories of a childhood and family life long past.

Yup!

There is an art to saying Yup!

Start slow and add two y's - yyyup!

Now add a slight rise in pitch and clip the p off short. Yyyup!

Slow and low, rise and cut off quick - yyyup! Yyyup! It may take a little practise.

Uncle Jack is a man of few words but you know it is all good when he says, "Yyyup!"

Jack is Ms Katie's older brother.

"Jack, would like to play cribbage?"

"Yyyup!" He beat us twice! Jack has played many hands of cribbage during his 86 years.

"Jack, would you like us to make lunch?"

"Yyyup!" Meatballs, mashed potatoes and Ms Katie's special cream gravy and life is good.

"Jack, are you making coffee for us in the morning?"

"Yyyup! I make it strong!" And it was strong!

Jack drove a truck, a dark green Peterbuilt cabover. For years he and the truck covered miles and miles, crossing both Canada and the United States numerous times. As he told stories of different places, crazy loads, driving partners and close calls, his eyes lit up and the corners of his mouth lifted in a not too common smile.

As we got ready to get back on the road, Ms Katie hugged Jack, her brother; hard of hearing, with eyesight dimming, slight of stature, feeling every bone and with whispered I love yous they said goodby.

This is My Father's World

For days the hymn, This is My Father's World, has been playing in my head. It is so fitting!

This is my Father's world,

and to my listening ears,

all nature sings...

Thank you, Father, for the world you have created. Thank you for this gift; the earth, your Son, your love and life. Amen

Happy Father's Day!

Ice and cold toes!

This is one of the glaciers that are part of the Columbia Ice Fields. It is mammoth and yet much smaller than in years past. As we drove in to the base of the glacier there were markers that showed where the end of the glacier was in a specific year. The earliest marker I saw was 1850. From there it was at least a mile drive to the glacier viewing area and another mile walk to get on the ice.

The terrain where the glacier had been was starkly different than the terrain Ms Katie and I had just driven through. There were no shades of green, there was no vegitation; just barren rock and mounds of stones and dirt. There were random cuts in the earth, made either from receeding ice or flowing water. It reminded me of a strip mine - how powerful water can be, in any of it's forms. It was odd to drive around a bend, turn left onto a dirt road and look like you were in a different world.

Wouldn't ya know, the only other person wandering around on the ice fields in flip flops was from Tempe!!

Lake Louise!

This is it! Lake Louise - an image you see on lots of things - calendars, postcards, Canada tourism publicity and now soon to be my screensaver. No picture does it justice. The day was cloudy, the trees dark, dark green, the lake still, the water almost black and the reflection magnificent.

As we were sitting by the lake, Ms Katie commented that the first time she visited the lake was 63 years ago on her and Al's honeymoon. Ms Katie and Al took the train from Winnipeg to Vancouver and one of the stops was Lake Louise.

A couple years later Ms Katie, Al and Terri made the trip driving a small car - a Morris Minor; slowing climbing up the hills and racing back down! Al liked going down too! More years later we drove as a family in a motor home, stopping in campgrounds nestled in the trees with bubbling brooks lulling us to sleep. And even more years later I made the trip with my own family.

As we laughed and enjoyed the memories that go along with those past trips, we acknowledge this is Ms Katie's last visit to the lake.

It is beautiful.
Sitting, looking at the lake, whether in pictures or in person, will never get old!