Walk Your Way to Health Benefits

Feb20

The topic of walking is right up my alley (picture me strolling along – LOL) because I’ve always walked. Okay, I hear you … of course you’ve always walked. Started when you were about ten months old, or so your mother was fond of saying. True enough!

I’m using the above photo because I love it! But it is oh so misleading for 2021. That cutie-pie is now 9 years old! Wow, time flies. And when I head out to walk today, it will be steady North Island rain on my horizon. Certainly not those sunny days of yesteryear and place.

When I say I’ve always walked, I mean walking for the pure joy of walking. Most days of my life, wherever I have lived or stayed, on whatever shore I have washed upon, I find myself heading out the door for a walk. It’s exercise, it’s a mental health break, it’s a creativity boost. My thoughts scramble around as my feet move to the beat of their own drummer. Somewhere, along the beaten track, all those thoughts fall into productive order. I breathe deeply and my steps become one with rutted paths, country lanes or city streets; I experience the beauty of trees, green grasses, squatting shrubs in every shade of the rainbow; I sense the pull of oceans, rivers, lakes, streams and canals; I marvel at the sight of a squirrel bounding up a tree, a Stellar’s Jay whisking out of sight, or a snake writhing along the path.

Here’s a couple of pics from a great walk I had with this granddaughter (circa fall 2020)around a new man-made lake near their home in High River, Alberta. Fun times. Walks with grandkids might be some of the best kinds.

The other day, I tuned into Dr. Brain Goldman’s podcast – The Dose | CBC Podcasts | CBC Listen What are the Do’s and Don’ts of Getting the Most out of My Daily Walk. According to Dr. Goldman and his guest, Dr. Jane Thornton, walking is one of the most meaningful things you can do to improve your health. It delivers a powerful range of physiological, cognitive, and mental health benefits. Dr. Thornton goes as far as to prescribe walking for her patients. Actually getting her prescription pad out and writing it up. She talks about how patients are motivated by the written words. It gives them permission to carve out the time it takes to walk.

I think Dr. Thornton should include the above visual with her written prescription for walking. What an amazing progression from a mere three minutes of strolling to reduce your blood pressure to 40 minutes to reduce the risk of heart disease, to a more ambitious 90 minute hike to brush away those depressive thoughts.

Walking – it’s all good Smile

Let Me Tell You a Story

Feb12

It is all about story … what else is there?

You can bet that old, battered easel found at the recycling yard has a story. Of course it does.

Stories surround us. We are immersed in them, swimming in an endless sea of story. At any given time, we seem capable of simultaneously tuning our attention to multiple stories. The lay across our palms, mixed threads of weight, colour and style. Some grab us with their vibrancy, others drift along cloudlike in a clear blue sky, some hold us in an iron grip and still others are dippable – in and out we go.

When it comes to fiction, I’ve never been good at reading more than one novel at a time. But switch up the delivery methods and I’m quite comfortable holding several strands of story in my palm. I am happy to read one novel on my Kindle, listen to another on Aubible and follow a fiction series on Netflix – no problem.

Currently the situation is as follows:

1. Reading Hilary Mantel’s novel, The Mirror and the Light on my Kindle. This is the 3rd book in her highly acclaimed Tudor series in which she takes Thomas Cromwell as her main character and teller of the tale. I read the 1^st book, Wolf Hall, several years ago and loved it, then recently finished the 2nd, Bring Up the Bodies. I’m surprised it has taken me this long to get back to Henry VIII and Tudor England.

2. Listening to, A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry on Audible. I read the book ages ago. Hearing it read by a narrator who has all the accents and pronunciations bang on is a totally different experience. Highly entertaining and totally gripping. The place is India, an unknown city by the sea, the time is 1975, a state of emergency throws four strangers together. “An enduring panorama of the human spirit in an inhuman state.”

3. Watching Borgen on Netflix. Take my word for it, you get used to the dubbing. Borgen is a political/newsroom drama set in Denmark. The two main characters are Denmark’s Prime Minister and the anchor of the country’s major TV broadcaster – both women. The drama circles around the major events of the day and the personal lives of these women.

Story is not confined to fiction. On any given day, I am listening to stories told to me over the phone by my daughter as she commutes to and from work – the three things granddaughter Emma would do if she was Prime Minister (my heart was warmed by her top priority – give millions to the homeless, followed by cancel school because it’s mostly boring); granddaughter Brit’s outfit for teacher day; and the trials and tribulations of the work life during Covid.

I tune into the latest story told by my son. His Covid hobby is creating heavy metal mixed cassette tapes complete with artwork for the tapes themselves, the liner notes and slip covers. These get distributed amongst a network of enthusiasts and garage metal bands.

I get a text from one of my granddaughters giving me the merest fragment of story – When did my mom start figure skating? I’m going to write a biography of her. Hmmm …. interesting. That request sent me scrambling down memory lane. Another day it was – How do you make peanut butter icing, Grama? Well, you make some icing, and you whip in some peanut butter. Easy peasy!

There are snippets of stories on Facebook and Instagram – photos and quotes and startling revelations. Now and then, a long newsy email arrives from a friend. These are replete with story upon story stacked up like the yummiest layer cake you’ll ever dig your fork into. Multiple story threads emerge in every news and political podcast that dumps daily into my podcast app.

Through casual conversations, stories pop up right, left and center. A simple question, “What are you doing?” can lead to multiple stories. Some you want to hear, some you certainly don’t. But you get what you get and don’t get upset – as my granddaughters learned in Kindergarten.

As I said, literally swimming in story here! Story is a deep stream running through our lives, so deep and rich that if we had the inclination, we would never run out of things to write about. And in our telling, we create another layer – like an office tower – one story on top of the other reaching higher and higher, always with elaborate stairways and elevators to gain access between floors.

Did you pick up a story from the photos? Or did they simply confuse the story conveyed in the written text? Could you hold the multiple strands of story? Hope so!

How are you drifting down the stream of story today? Where are you hearing the snippets, the gripping tales, the startling headlines? I’m all ears for a good story.

Life Happens in the Barren Writing Land

Feb3

I hung that note on my storyboard this fall.

See for yourself the fade to nothingness that is happening to the 5^th offering in the Crater Lake Series. A strange phenomenon, really, – not the fading – that makes perfect sense!The book started with such gusto in the early days of 2019. Barely a few weeks into the writing, I had eighty pages. Going back now, I am still enthralled reading those early pages. That – Damn, this is good – feeling often seeps through me.

Even now, two years later, the characters speak to me daily; more like yell at me with megaphones in their hands. Yet I do not heed them, I do not return to them. Why did I abandon them? I am not posing these questions to build your suspense. The truth is, I haven’t anything like adequate answers. I have circumstances, which are not the same as answers. Oh, yes … circumstances, I have many; answers, but a few (or none).

I embarked early in 2019 on a self-improvement project – get healthier, be more active, drop some weight. Not much different that what I would embark on every January. By March, I was enjoying a good deal of success. In some ways, that success took over my life. I’m not sorry for the time spent on such a worthy endeavour, but it did push writing aside. Sitting in front of the keyboard for hours on end was not longer on my priority list.

The further I got from the writing, the harder it was to find my way back. And so the time went by.

Over the summer months, an active, healthy lifestyle paid off with multiple engagements. My favourites with these two wonderful granddaughters Smile

There were several guests to our beautiful lake home.

We took up kayaking in a big way.

Our garden was a sight to behold.

Come fall, there was canning and food preservation to consider.

(This pic actually comes from Oct. 2020 – but 2019 was similar – maybe less tomatoes and more beans.)

We took a fall trip to see family and enjoy some beautiful BC and southern Alberta scenery.

Hiking the Old Kettle Valley Rail Trestle Trail near Kelowna

CSC_0685

Sheep River Provincial Park, Alberta.

Me, riding a bike with my BFF’s. First time in years and proof positive that healthy life style choices pay off.

Time passed. Then it was Christmas – the first Christmas we had planned to spend at home in ages. We decorated a tree, we baked cookies. Life was good. So went 2019.

Along came January of 2020 replete with many Crater Lake intentions. Before I could get organized to break the ice on the frozen pond of writing, I was following news stories from China and worrying that my worst fears about a global pandemic ending humanity were about to be realized. (Have you read Emily St John Mandel’s book Station Eleven. If not do, it’s superb, but then again, during our own pandemic, maybe not.) By the middle of February, when The Diamond Princess ocean liner was docked and quarantined in Japan, I was cancelling travel plans and we were stocking up on groceries.

Well, there you have it. That’s my writing hiatus in a nutshell. As I said, many circumstances but few explanations. I recently heard a podcast interview with one of my favourite authors, Robert Harris. He took the isolation of a pandemic as the perfect opportunity to pump out a brilliant book, “V 2”. Throwing in the towel on writing was clearly not a pandemic given. Well, though I have no answers for my own writing dilemma, this post gives me the chance to shout out two great books!

Living Through the Pandemic

Jan28

As I sit tonight and put in my mandatory hour in front of the keyboard, I am thinking about the evening news a few days ago and the fact that January 25^th marked the one-year anniversary of the first confirmed case of Covid-19 in Canada. Yesterday, we marked the same anniversary for British Columbia. What a year we’ve lived through. Brutal for many, barely a change for others and, for countless more, every variation of impact along that continuum. I think the disproportionate affects of this global crisis are among its most salient and heart-wrenching features.

We happen to be in the group who didn’t experience a significant amount of life upheaval. I came up with the following list of 10 factors to explain why:

1. We are somewhat introverted at the best of times.

2. We have both retired, our income is fixed and we harbour no dreams of world travel.

3. We live in a rural, isolated area.

4. We (Bruce and I) are neither of us, alone!

5. As a general rule, we keep our cupboards and pantry stuffed to the brim.

6. We love to garden and preserve our own food and we’ve been doing it for years. So, we are well provisioned with all the necessary supplies.

7. We hardly ever go to a restaurant and we don’t care much for shopping.

8. With so much heartfelt gratitude, we have not had to travel to be with sick, injured or dying loved ones.

9. We are both (as far as we know) healthy and have not needed to worry about seeing doctors or specialists.

10. We don’t get bored around our cabin home because there are simply too many things to do to ever consider boredom as an option.

So, we haven’t been turned inside out by Covid-19, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t fully aware of the devastation others are going through. Nightly news, podcasts, media articles and contact with friends and family keep us updated.

My heart goes out to all those who lost a loved one to Covid-19. I experience a sense of frustrated, hand-wringing hopelessness when I think of our poor seniors, so vulnerable in the care homes that can no longer care for them. I stand in solidarity with all the different types of front-line workers who have no choice but to be out in the world every day. Equally, I feel for those relegated to working from home when it may not suit them. I’m sorry for the kids missing out on school and beloved activities, to say nothing of the devastating loss of social connection. I understand how difficult it is for the small business owners who watch the hard work they have put into building their dreams go down the drain.

Even though our experience of this pandemic has been easier than what has been felt by many, I am sad for time lost with kids and grandkids. We would have been together more if we could have! I also miss the simple things, like a friend dropping by for a visit. Offering coffee and cake. Being able to share food and conversation around a table.

No one drops by now and if anyone did, they would be six feet away and wearing a mask. Coffee and cake would be a problem outside in the pouring rain or wind.

Suffice to say, these are difficult times. Here’s hoping we stay the course, stick to our best healthcare practices and pass through these days with a thought to how our individual actions may affect others. We can only live in the moment. Let us face that moment with integrity. As our provincial health officer for British Columbia, Dr. Bonnie Henry, has often told us, “Be kind, be calm and be safe.”

I am missing these people and their pets!

My lovely daughter, Kristen; her husband Matthew, delightful granddaughters, Emma (with knees showing) and Brit; tried and true dogs, Gixxer (Boxer) and Zoey (Border Collie, Sheep Dog cross).

My son, Doug and his lovely wife, Maggie along with their fun-loving cats, Mika (senior – white) and Cookie, playful newcomer.

Going Silent and Coming Back

Jan17

Well, WordPress followers … if you’re still out there … I’ve gone silent since September 18^th, 2018 with my Lady Ashburn Mustard Pickles post. What a post to go out on. By the way, those pickles are so delicious! Okay, all kidding aside, months can fly by when one is filling non-writing time with food preservation, road trips, holidays and sock knitting.

There are about a hundred good posts in the above activities, but this blog is supposed to be all about writing. If I come to a dry spell again, I might start an all about non-writing blog. Then again, not writing really meant not writing. I have been hard pressed to put something as short and simple as an email together.

Let’s talk writing blocks. Every author has them. Getting my last book (No Compass to Right) out in 2017 was a huge effort – faster than usual writing timeline for all stages, a rush to publication to meet certain promotion opportunities then blissful nothingness. Stepping back from the whirlwind was much needed.

My well-earned rest flowed right into summer at the lake, visitors and a bountiful garden to enjoy. Along comes fall and there is the imperative of fresh produce begging for preservation. Then immersion as a sideline cheerleader on our jar and freezer room project (check it out in the first pic on this post). More than satisfying to see that space completed! And suddenly it is time for a road trip. We get home, catch our breath and we are in the Christmas rush. Busy, busy, busy.

I’m not fooling any of the writers out there with my busyness excuses. When we need to write, nothing gets in the way and everything else still gets done – for the most part. Writers are efficient with their time.

Coming back is hard. I can’t deny it. The longer I stayed away from daily writing, the more of a brick wall went up. Deconstructing the wall takes time. My endurance for sustained writing is low. In the first fifteen minutes I fight down a constant stream of demanding thoughts. I need to get up for a snack, perhaps another cup of coffee, maybe I should check my email and on it goes. Then, without any fanfare, I fall into the zone and the next forty-five minutes whiz by.

In a rush of energy at the end of writing No Compass to Right, I created extensive notes for the next book. Last week, I started back to those notes and simply hanging out with the characters. Asking questions. What is on their minds, where do they want to go, what do they want to be doing in book five? And do those characters ever clamour for attention. They speak, oh man do they speak – some go so far as to yell and scream. The ideas come in front of the keyboard as I write and while I do my daily walk. I snapped this photo through the glass of our greenhouse the other day. Datura in full bloom with evergreen reflection.

Once I am back to writing, the desire to send my thoughts out into the blogosphere returns. This has been my longest WordPress silence since I started blogging in 2012. Here’s to going silent and here’s to coming back. If anyone is still listening … here’s a couple of pics of me and Bruce at Emerald Lake in YoHo National Park.

For the Love of Beans

Aug1

There’s an old adage about gardening that I fully subscribe to – grow what you like to eat! For us, that means lots of fresh beans.

Here are two of my new-time favourites.

Dragon Tongue Bush Beans – a beautiful Dutch heirloom variety that is perfect to eat fresh or preserved, or even as dried beans. When the beans turn from lime green to yellow with their bright purple stripes, they are ready to go.

Purple Peacock Pole Beans – Twining stems, light purple flowers and dark purple pods. A striking plant that provides a wonderful garden screen. This variety handles cool conditions well. The pods keep their flavour and tenderness even when very long. Don’t get too attached to the colour though – they turn green when you cook them.

Scarlett Runners are the old timers in our garden. We’ve been collecting our own seeds and growing a tepee trellis full of these beans for years now. The flowers are pretty and the vines are vigorous but for an optimal taste experience, get those beans before they get too big!

We also grow Kentucky Wonder Pole Beans – this type of bean has been grown by gardeners since 1864. Popular due to its vigour and fine heirloom flavour. I’ve gathered the brown-seeds and dried them for planting the following year with great success. You can see them growing in the picture below on the tepee trellis at the back of our under-the-clothes-line section of the garden. Just coming into flower now, we won’t be eating these until a bit later in the season.

For the gardening enthusiasts, we grow in zone 8 to 9 here on Northern Vancouver Island and the varieties of beans I’ve mentioned will produce from early August through late September.

Back to the garden for me. These days I am hosting grandkids, friends and family and enjoying the beauty of the summer days here at the lake. Not writing yet but all experiences nurture the storylines brewing away in my mind. Stay tuned for more on all of the above and adventures from that Crater Lake gang.

Home and Happy

Jul19

Will you look at that clematis in full bloom right outside the kitchen door! Wow!

It’s been two weeks since I came home from my travels in southern Alberta. From the land of rolling fields of canola, rodeo broncs and shiny buckles, cowboy culture and prairie winds to my Vancouver Island, lakeside cabin. I had some wonderful time with kids and grandkids. Life is good.

Me and my lovely daughter, Kristen enjoying music in the park.

My Canada Day cuties – Emma and Brit.

They’re wearing that Alberta look well – daughter – Kristen, son-in-law – Matt, and granddaughters – Emma and Brit.

So – enough of holiday antics. I thought I’d share a few highlights from the last couple of weeks at home.

Fresh salad greens from the garden is a big treat! The lettuce, radishes, baby kale and chives make an attractive side dish.

Lots of work for the head gardener but it sure pays off.

Vegetables aren’t the only thing in the garden these days.

Bear and Buddha – east meets west Smile

Bear and apple tree – cha, cha, cha. For this dance the bear is definitely leading.

The last of the Bleeding Heart in the woodland garden.

2017 Wild West Rodeo – Making Memories Alberta Style.

Jun26

Guy Weadick Days in High River, Alberta – Pro Rodeo, WPCA Chuckwagons, food trucks and … stop the presses right there. What more can you ask for?

I lunched on pirogues smothered in caramelized onion, bacon and sour cream. Wow, oh wow!

Rodeo and chuckwagons are an integral part of High River history and this prairie town knows how to host a bang-up event.

Guy Weadick, the man the High River Rodeo is named for, is the father of the Stampede tradition in Canada. He came to Fort McLeod in 1904 and fell in love with the area. In 1908, with wife Florence La Due at his side, the pair came to Calgary as part of the Miller Brothers Wild West Show. Guy organized the first ever Calgary Expedition and Stampede in 1912. He went on to introduce the sport of Chuckwagon Racing to the Stampede in 1923.

Guy and Florence lived west of High River on the Stampede Ranch. They brought Hollywood to the Highwood through their friendships with Will Rogers, Hoot Gibson and Charles Russell. Guy was laid to rest in the High River Cemetery in 1953.

All of the Pro-Rodeo events were exciting but my granddaughters and I loved the barrel racing best!

The Chuckwagon Races have always been a big hit in High River. Since first run in 1946, the town’s enthusiasm for the heart-stopping competition has never faded. I can attest to that fact. The crowds were packed in for the Sunday running and the boot stomping excitement when those chucks rounded the last corner shook the huge grandstand.

During a break in the rodeo action, granddaughter Brit took a fall and scraped her knee, drawing blood. A medical attendant was on the scene in moments. Like I said, a well-organized event!

I can’t end this blog without reporting on the first event of the day – Woolie Bucks. Kids chase after sheep to snatch envelopes of prize money from their backs. Only at the rodeo, as the saying goes.

A few last minute instructions and the race is on.

The sheep were stiff competition but no match for these little cow pokes.

Run like you stole that money off the back of a sheep!

We recently looked back on the one-year anniversary of the day my daughter and her family sold their home in B.C. and made their way to High River, Alberta. Trepidation was high for Bruce and I. We wondered how this change would effect all our lives. I am happy to report that things have come out as right as B.C. rain. The community of High River has been a special treat for all of us – welcoming and packed with all a young family with growing kids could want as well as special events grandparents can enjoy!

Yee-haw!

Ode to Joy–Holding My New Book

May27

I suppose the picture says it all Smile

The proof copy of No Compass to Right arrived and, on first blush, it seems everything I hoped for. Of course, with proof copies, the devil is in the details. I discovered that uncomfortable truth the hard way with a previous release. I’ll be pouring over this one for a couple of days before placing my bulk order.

If you read e-books, you can pre-order a copy of No Compass to Right for release on June 1st. The big day is coming, folks!

And if all of that is not enough cause for celebration, I received another wonderful surprise in the mail yesterday. Delayed Mother’s Day gift – Bear Paw oven mitts. Many thanks to Kristen, Matt, Emma and Britney. Can you imagine a greater gift for out here at the lake? Now I can lift hot pans with my bear hands while watching bears stroll by – LOL. Wow – two goofy, happy pictures of me in one post. What is this world coming to?

Who Has Seen the Wind

Jan23

And all about him was the wind now, a pervasive sighing trough, a great emptiness, as though the prairie itself was breathing in long gusting breaths, unhampered by the buildings of town, warm and living against his face and in his hair. (W. O. Mitchell – Who Has Seen The Wind)

I remember being profoundly affected by reading W.O. Mitchell’s novel, Who Has Seen the Wind. I was in my thirties and I had a deep curiosity about the various landscapes mapped out across this huge country I call home … Canada. The way in which Mitchell so artfully described the prairie stayed with me. I had never experienced such a landscape and Mitchell’s words sparked my imagination and engendered a desire to hear the wind hum and twang in the telephone wires, to walk to the edge of a town and feel the prairie all around me. Because the book is set in Saskatchewan, I just carelessly assumed that W.O. Mitchell lived his life in Saskatchewan.

Imagine my surprise when Bruce and I visited the Museum of the Highwood in High River, Alberta and discovered their wonderfully constructed W.O. Mitchell exhibit. I learned that Mitchell had lived for years in High River. That he raised his family in the community and that, in fact, he and his wife were buried in the High River Cemetery.

For some background, I’ll turn this over to an article by Kevin Rushworth that appeared in the High River Times in 2014 to celebrate the opening of the exhibit.

By Kevin Rushworth ( http://www.highrivertimes.com/2014/03/10/museum-exhibit-to-celebrate-high-rivers-wo-mitchell ) High River Times, March 9^th, 2014

MULTIMEDIA EDITOR

Who Has Seen the Wind, written by late Canadian author and broadcaster W.O. Mitchell in 1947, and his other literary works might have made him a national icon, but a new exhibit at the Museum of the Highwood will shed light on one of High River’s most prominent citizens 100 years after his birth.

William Ormond Mitchell—more commonly known as W.0. Mitchell or Bill to his friends—was born in Weyburn, Saskatchewan on March 13, 1914.

Canada would come to welcome this literary figure with open arms, ultimately providing him with the Order of Canada and the Stephen Leacock Medal for Humour, but Mitchell’s 20 years spent in High River started simply—he arrived in the community by bus in 1943.

By 1945, he fell in love with the community, brought his wife Merna to High River and his first and arguably most famous book, Who Has Seen the Wind was published in 1947.

Irene Kerr, curator and director of the Museum of the Highwood, has found herself laughing out loud during research for the exhibit. The exhibit focuses on the years Mitchell spent in High River. “It’s so Canadian, so prairie and it’s so small town,” she said. “His humour was brilliant. He tells all these stories that we often tell at the museum, but he tells them in a little skewed, more humorous way.”

Mitchell drew inspiration for many of his characters from real people he met living in High River. His three children were born and raised in the community. While going about his daily routine, Mitchell would jot down notes about the people he met. Many of them became the so called ‘salty characters’ in his novels.

While being interviewed, Mitchell himself once said much of the inspiration for the town of Crocus—as seen in his Jake and the Kid novel and the CBC radio show—came from High River.

Mitchell wrote that High River was always a special place, “She’s a town with a conservative personality which makes you love her and lose patience with her, but she’s still a cowtown that takes her rhythms with the seasons,”

We thoroughly enjoyed our time exploring the Museum of the Highwood. The curator – I didn’t get her name and sure wish I had – responded to our questions about the flood in 2013 by sitting us down at a table and bringing out several books with graphic photos. She regaled us with stories that made the whole event come to life and that, I must say, was a scary experience!

Have you ever discovered something previously unknown about a favourite author? Was there ever an author or book that made you want to experience a certain landscape?

When I visit High River in the summer, I want to walk to the end of a street and have a W.O. Mitchell experience of prairie:

I would walk to the end of the street and over the prairie with the clickety grasshoppers bunging in arcs ahead of me, and I could hear the hum and twang of wind in the great prairie harp of telephone wires. Standing there with the total thrust of prairie sun on my vulnerable head, I guess I learned — at a very young age — that I was mortal.

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Category Archives: Grandparent

Walk Your Way to Health Benefits

Let Me Tell You a Story

Life Happens in the Barren Writing Land

Living Through the Pandemic

Going Silent and Coming Back

For the Love of Beans

Home and Happy

2017 Wild West Rodeo – Making Memories Alberta Style.

Ode to Joy–Holding My New Book

Who Has Seen the Wind

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