Ray

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Last month we had the honour to accompany Ray Crook out for his 101st birthday supper. 

Lisa and I took him out for his 99th and we attended his 100th. His 100th was a big celebration with lots of his friends and dignitaries.

The conversation was good as it always is with Ray. It seems we always learn something. He enjoys talking history and told us some tales of Kootenay National Park where his family had a service station at what is today, Crook’s Meadow.

Ray also talked fondly of my Grandfather and Father. He and my Father cut trail throughout the Park when they were young men, boys really. Many of those trails they cut, such as Floe Lake and Marble Canyon, are now used by many people.

Ray liked going to Strand’s Restaurant for fish and chips. Unfortunately, it recently closed so we went to Elements at Copper Point Resort. Lisa and I thought it was a good choice because we knew they served fish and chips, not that Ray eats a lot; he does, however, like his ice cream.

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Many people came over and wished Ray a Happy Birthday! A little girl came over to see what was written on his dessert, when she saw 101 she had a look of amazement!

We were treated to dinner by one of Ray’s old friends Bernice Hathaway, a long time local, who now lives at the coast. She said, she only wished she could be there. She stays in touch with Lisa and Ray and was insistent she pay for our dinner out. There was no arguing with her, as often is the case when it comes to the generosity of her and Ray’s generation.

Ray enjoys good health, a sharp mind, likes to laugh and can still climb into my truck on his own, which he always remarks is very quiet. We should all be so lucky.

Bradshaw Shank Redemption

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The good neighbour and I were given a few plants this year. I’d requested them and thanks to a couple sisters three plants were given to me in early spring. Much earlier than I usually start plants.  I passed on two to my neighbour as he is much better with young plants than me. The last one I was able to keep alive until it was ready to be transplanted outdoors in May.

They were seeds from Aaron Bradshaw’s plants that he gave his sister, Linda the year before. 

Linda started them on her windowsill. Aaron had left the parent plants for his sister when he died of cancer.

The plants were young at the time he passed, but grew in his sister’s backyard. It’s possible Aaron used cannabis for pain or comfort during his battle with his sickness. More than likely, it was something everyone here grows up with and knows helps with many everyday events, happy, sad, life affirming or life threatening.

Aaron was a year or two older than me. We ran into each other plenty. His father and my Grandfather were good friends. The first time I met him, I remember clearly, we were both just tots. My father took me to visit his father. Aaron was running around their house wild. Of course he was showing off for me and probably wanted me to play. But his speed intimidated me and I stuck by my father’s leg.

After that, even later, he knew he had my number, I knew it too. Growing up in this area you had to be tough. Aaron always knew I looked at him meekly. Once, long ago, he stopped me on my bike and asked me to borrow it. This is how a bike was stolen in those days. It happened a lot to me before I hit ten. He said, he just had to do something then he would give it right back. 

I gave my bike to Aaron, figuring where he might dump it twisted and broken. Instead he brought it back just like he said he would. 

Later in years, when ever we ran into each other, usually in the bar, we would talk, share some stories, about fishing and hunting. We always mentioned his Father and my Grandfather’s friendship. Like there was a bond. And there was a bond. We both grew up in this place. A place that seems to be cruel to some of the people who have been here the longest and love it the most.

Our families have had their share of feeling it. 

The plant in my garden put out some big early buds that have been enjoyed by many. I am unsure what strain it is, but it’s a deep powerful one.

My good neighbour’s plants turned out to be a male and female. After I told him about Aaron and the origin of the plants. He decided to breed the two plants  and we now have seeds for many years to come.

The good neighbour calls the strain Bradshaw Shank Redemption. I think Aaron would have got a helluva kick out of that.

leaping lizards

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After all the hoops, even the ones, I jumped high. Here it is; my ankle caught, everything I enjoy caught also.

It’s a struggle. Deeper than flesh. To be free.

anger or instinct

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The dog before Willow was named Slinky, she was brave like Willow, but also a physically perfect specimen of her breed.

She would dig for hours for gophers and mice. Once I saw her leap into the air and catch a bird taking off out of the long grass. She didn’t like the cold and wouldn’t swim. She often looked at me like I was crazy, as if to say, isn’t there an easier way.

In the bush she was always on guard, refusing to sleep as long as we were in the open. 

When the girls were young they would light a fire in the yard and have friends over. This was the same time my good neighbour Larry had a constant stream of couch surfers at his place, most harmless enough. Lost souls he was lending a hand at the expense of his wife and children who had moved out.

Every now and again Larry got a real winner. Roy was one of those. He came off like a salesman, he had the bloated look, the laugh when nothing was funny, but no teeth, except one right in the front. Larry told him, try to hang onto it as it could be the anchor for a plate.

Roy even got a job running the local bar, until he was drinking more than they were bringing in.

Roy, once a long time ago, was coming home drunk and ran up on the kids having their fire. Slinky got him before he got there and bit his hand, she was aiming for his nuts, but he wisely got his hand down in time. 

Roy’s night was over. The booze and dog bite will take it out of you, especially if you have no teeth to bite back.

The kids got me, I escorted Ray the remaining way to Larry’s. I was concerned he might report being bit by a dog. I told him I was pissed off, because my dog might have caught rabies from him. 

Lisa was concerned that Slinky was turning angry, the friendliest dog, could bite someone. Lisa asked me to take her to the vet to see if she was in pain, maybe she had bad teeth. It turned out I had bad teeth, Roy had one bad tooth, but Slinky’s teeth were in perfect condition.

Slinky was doing what just came natural.

In this day and age we have plenty of threats running up on us. Some of them are real, most are not. I’m like an old dog and can’t tell the difference. My hackles are up, my bad teeth are sensitive to hot and cold. It’s a miracle I have any bite at all. 

fishing

RCE_3375.jpgLisa & Scarlett.

Hope is something you have if you love. It can’t be any other way. The world is vast, changing all the time, the end of the world comes suddenly and everyday for so many, as it will for all of us.

RCE_3383Free range.

That’s the end we’re supposed to be afraid of. It’s the gift that makes the fear disappear.

RCE_3496As good as it gets.

You don’t get many days fishing in September. To waste them is a sin.

RCE_3467Wild child.

The magic in dragonflies at water’s edge, or a daytime moon guaranteeing the fish will bite.

RCE_3585Dressing the catch for supper.

addiction

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It’s time to get serious, I’ve been told and I’ve been told more than once. The rivers sure look promising, same as the muddy water in those gypsum sink holes, I used to dive when I was younger. Every single time I thought I was going to die. Sometimes instead of coming up I’d keep swimming down. I did it because it was hard. Everything trying to pull me up. The air in my lungs, lifting, my eyes open, facing the current. Stinging. Looking for a breath. That’s the way it is on any given day.

mouse

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My dog has her tip toe shoes on. She is after a mouse. Walking slowly from edge to edge. While, more than likely the mouse is running scared. The mouse’s best chance is Willow falls asleep.

Surprise, surprise we have more than one mouse.

the news

_LME3247Willow eyeing up the carrots.

Recently, I had a conversation with someone I have a great deal of respect for. She is a business person who is smart and knows how to deal with personnel and clients. There is a lot of juggling that goes on in such situations. She handles it mostly with a smile on her face. Not much rattles her. 

I call it ‘high functioning’, being able to deal with more than one thing at a time, sometimes more than ten things at at time. Some people are really good at it, she is one. 

The other day her and I and a few others entered into a conversation. We talked about some of the recent events in Canadian news. Everyone in the conversation had an opinion except her. She said, she doesn’t listen, read or watch the news.

Now, back when I was growing up this was a form of ignorance which bothered me. In my uneducated world, newspapers and televised news was how a person educated themselves.

She explained, she didn’t want Trump and everything else in the news filling up her brain while there was more important stuff to think about and accomplish.

***

_LME3271.jpgIn the same boat.

My good friend Dave and I talk often. We have always laughed about how many children get rides to school, even when they live within walking distance. He says, it’s because we hear about a kid being snatched in some faraway place on the news and we take notice, it’s real, it’s like it happened under our nose, even though it is the safest time in Canada to be a child. We turn vigilant. It takes up space in our mind. It’s why our children have lost the pleasure of walking to school.

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If I listened to it all, I’d pack it in. Call it. Say uncle. And sometimes I feel like it.

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The sky is still blue. Sometimes it rains, sometimes it’s dry. The forest catches on fire and banks get chewed away by runoff. 

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_LME3276.jpgTurning.

The moral of this story, if there is one, let your kids walk to school. Teach them to say, ‘fuck you’, when warranted. They are going to have plenty to be pissed about come future.

Perseids

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You know you’re getting old when you go downstairs to get something but forget what it was once down there. Then as soon as you are back upstairs you remember. . . ah my teeth.

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Wet on and off most of the weekend. I can’t say I’m disappointed. It’s good to face the warm rain. I prefer it to smoke any day.

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The Perseid Meteor Shower is underway, but will be obscured by the moon and clouds, at least, for the next few days.

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Was behind the mountains looking for Huckleberries. There was a few, along the cut, under the small pines. Picked enough for a taste. Time is scarce these days. It seems I’m due off the mountain as soon as I work the tension out of my joints.

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These days it’s the far off dangers we fear while the small seemingly inconsequential pains go ignored. Crooked small town politicians, poor education and inadequate health care for everyone but the rich gets a pass in the face of such impending doom dominating the 24 hour news cycle.

We would all better off if we worried about the crooked little bastards running the local schools, weaselling away money while looking forward to retirement. Or the entire bunch of our small town and provincial politicians, changing the landscape to benefit themselves.

There is plenty to get riled up about right under our noses, before even thinking of Trudeau or Trump, in truth, two narcissist, blowhards that should be ignored while we focus on events closer to us, including the lives of neighbours and family, substantially more important.

long weekend

_LME3237Dave rolls a dart, Chewy licks the papers. It’s a joint effort.

Damn, this has been a busy long weekend. Calgarians tailgating everywhere they go. All in a hurry to have fun. Making the most of it, they must figure.

While driving through town I saw two incidents of road rage. All four involved were from the city. One had a Flames front licence plate, stealing another’s parking spot. Cue the horn, hand gestures and expletives. I am ashamed to say this warms my heart. I wish the Flames were as aggressive.

It never ceases to amaze me how people act on holiday while trying to relax.

It also never ceases to amaze me the wealth that flows into the valley. If Alberta is hurting, we don’t see it here.

Also, if there is a climate crisis we don’t see it here. It’s big cars, trucks, boats, RV’s, ATV’s and huge second homes built as close to the water as they can get away with. All spewing CO2, polluting the land and water. Perhaps when they start worrying I should too.

Some of these folks can be counted as our most vocal environmentalists. Always reminding us they love it so much this is where they decide to vacation, drive, boat, ATV, fly, build, spend their money and die. Don’t think I don’t appreciate it. I have a $16 an hour job because of it.

Tonight the sky is blue. The breeze is warm. My arms are tanned and I have a full garden of food.

Very fine day.