Saskatoon Winter in October

There is snow here in Saskatoon which is a bit of a surprise since it was about 18 degrees at home the other day. I brought almost all my shoes with me but didn't bring the right boots. Oh well.

There are many things that are surprising about Saskatoon - the river, for example with its lovely bridges. And the Mendel gallery. And my nephew's Steven's grown up life, with his beautiful wife and their baby Sonia born last year just before my dad died.

Here I am being hosted and fed by the little boy I used to babysit. He's driving me around Saskatoon in his big white Land Rover. Steven needs a Land Rover because he is doing amazingly interesting things up north. He's a senior archeologist for a company based in Calgary, and also a Ph.D. student. He travels about, flies into places, drives over bodies of water, meets with elders, dives into bear caves, and so on.

I was a happy auntie driving back from a book signing at McNally Robinson with my nephew in the white Land Rover, with white snow on the ground.

And then there was the 1997 white Westfalia with a for sale sign gleaming at us in the sun.

George and I have been talking about this lifestyle plan - the camper van plan - for months. And there it was. I said to Steven yesterday, with a wink:  "Just watch and see how this turns out!"

Today I spent a beautiful afternoon with Ray and Marie. I drove all around Saskatoon with Ray, out to the university, over the river, onto the highway and out to the farmers fields. We turned around near the polka dance hall where Ray has enjoyed many good times. Ray approved of the way I drive, and asked me who taught me. My dad, of course - and he taught me how to polka too!

Apparently no-one but Ray has ever driven this van until I happened along. They can't drive the van anymore and its a hard thing to let go of since so much joy of their later life was lived in it.

It's kinda like when we brought home the perfect toast-colored dog named Oliver.  Bringing this dog home was definitely not the most practical and well-thought out decision in the world, but yet it was one that came upon us with some force.

This van was like that.

Ray and Marie kissed my cheek with great force as we made our arrangements and plans for pick-up in March.

You just never know what's waiting for you in Saskatoon!

25 Years Later

I was in Winnipeg this past weekend, hanging out with some very good friends from a long time ago.  This is a picture of my teenage tribe, except for Garth and Shaun who didn't come until the next day.  I'll bet if I dig through my bins of stuff I will find a picture with exactly the same people, in virtually the same position, taken about twenty-five years ago. We all look great in this picture - look at us smile!

I was in Winnipeg for two reasons:  this reunion of the youth-group gang, and a reading from The Camino Letters at the McNally Robinson bookstore.  The man who organized the youth retreats when we were all young was Ted Dodd, and Ted happens to be my taskmaster for Chapter 4 of the letters.  At McNally Robinson Ted read his task to me and I read my letter to him.

I found this difficult to do without crying - especially there, especially having not seen Ted for years before that day, and especially with this gang of old friends watching me.   It's strange (but not really) how deeply I still love all of them.  I haven't really kept in touch.  I left a long time ago, and left some love behind.

At church on Sunday morning, at the reunion worship service, Ted talked about The Diviners and the river that flows both ways.  Life is like that.  He also talked about the need to propel the things that we knew back then into this broken world, and he is right.  I was glad to be reminded.

And then I went to McNally Robinson to read, too nervous to eat lunch, not sure of what shade of lipstick to put on ....

This is Linda

The first stranger who arrived for the reading was a woman named Linda, who came to introduce herself and to tell me that I looked exactly like my mother.  She heard about the reading through Ernie Bies, the man who helped to edit a book about Hearst, Ontario where my family is from.

Linda lives in Winnipeg, and was a schoolmate of my sisters in Hearst, long before I was born. She didn't know that I was about to read Chapter 4 when she told me that I look like my mother.

Linda didn't really know anything about the book at all.  But with those few words she gave me all that I needed for that day in Winnipeg, a place that one of our kids calls "the heart of the heart of the continent."  So true.