We've finally located an Internet connection....Wrote this a while ago.
After a couple of weeks in Rolling Hills I remember why I was ready to leave the prairie back in '95. Although the little village is populated with some of the most neighborly people going there's nothing that can make up for the incessant wind. When you think you've got a handle on predicting the weather and have agreed that you won't have to pull in the awning tonight, 3 am tells a different story and you're outside in a gale, in your nightwear, trying to keep your awning from becoming a sail. Sometimes it seems like it will never quit then a sudden quiet spell lulls you back to complacency, you breathe a sigh of relief, set up the lawn chairs again, re right the barbecue then the cycle starts all over again.
But our stay had its bright spots- meeting new grand nieces and nephews, renewing old friendships with school chums and attending a benefit auction and concert for a local family with health problems. The benefit was organized by a youth group with no church affiliation with the family. I thought that was the epitome of community spirit.
A weekend at the Pincher Creek poetry gathering with good friends was a pleasurable experience, especially visiting nephew Ryan and his bride Beth who run the Alberta Ranch nearby.
Deciding to leave early for the Porter reunion in Maple Creek we stopped for a burger in Medicine Hat where we bumped into Janine who contacted her mother, my cousin Sue, who invited us to park on their driveway overnight. That evening Med. Hat put on the best fireworks display I've seen in recent years. Next day Sue's husband Jim invited me to the local shooting range where we blasted a couple hundred rounds with his hand guns which was a welcome testosterone release. Meanwhile Nan and Sue bonded...only 167 to go. Next day we arrived at Elkwater, where I used to camp, and met up with Phyllis Rathwell and Larry Miller our cowboy poet friends who have a cool house there.. The area is not only unique and scenic but its history is fascinating. It was here in 1873 that a massacre of local natives by American whiskey traders forced the formation of the NWMP. The Cypress Hills, once held sacred by the natives, is now a popular vacation spot and the natives again lost a paradise and were forced onto reserves to the east.
On a personal note- we finally heard from Nan's doctor and we now have clearance to begin our trek to the North. Nan makes a great nurse but a poor patient as I'm constantly reminding her to lay back and put her feet up. Stay tuned as next week should find us moving northward...finally.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
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