Dangers in B.C.

I was very “green” about wood heating and had much to learn.  The airtight heater in the cabin was situated so the stovepipe went up through the ceiling near where the roof met the cabin. This space was called a knee-well or knee-wall. I had a good fire going one day and as I was doing dishes I started to smell smoke. Well I looked up to see flames travelling along the inside of the roof and

along the inside of the roof and nearly had a heart

attack. However no time to panic gotta do something about it. As with most places around the area the cabin had a shake roof and cedar
burns easily and well! A hippie guy happened by and I told him to go to the house and tell Irma I had a fire. I looked at a nearby shed and also a huge tree and thought it was a possibility that the house would go too! The hippie told Irma but only came back with a bucket. He was very panicky but I did talk him into filling the bucket with water while I went up a ladder onto the roof. No one else came to help at all. I literally tore the shakes off the roof in order to get the fire out and of course ended up with a big hole in the roof. Once the fire was out I just sat there and shook. I slept cold that night as could not stand the thought of the fire starting again. Someone helped me move the stove to a different spot but I never again felt safe about wood heating. But I still took chances and one time started the fire and left it while I did some more chores. The fire had gotten going alright and the pressure it had built up had the lid flapping up and down like popcorn and the cabin of course was full of smoke. Sometimes there were just too many things to learn.

   Every so often the men would drop off a load of wood and it was up to me to split it and put it in my wood shed. One day Ed Davidson came by with his family for a supper invitation with Aldingers. I was out splitting wood and Ed watched me for a time and then showed me how to hit the wood with the axe where there was a crack and it would split much easier. Well that was very true but not something a city kid would necessarily know.

That first winter was a lonely one but Frank often came by for coffee and that was always a boost to my morale. Just before Christmas I was going in to Nelson to shop with Frank and Lyn and Kelly. As we drove by the turn-off for Cody Caves I noticed a little dog running up the bank. This seemed unusual to me as there did not seem to be any houses about. That's when Frank noticed tracks leading off the highway and over the bank. Andre Goudroe and his wife and three young boys had gone over just before we arrived. The vehicle was upside down and the wheels still turning when we looked over.  We were in my car and had no rope, Frank felt he could get down there but would need a rope to

 get back up the steep bank, especially when helping someone else. Soon someone else arrived and they had a rope so down he went. Andres wife was dead but the little boys were all alive and crying. Frank brought them up one at a time. One little boy had his leg broken in three places(we later found out) and I kept hoping he would just pass out and be free of the pain but he did not. The next little boy had a cut across his stomach but it was not deep. The third boy was the eldest maybe nine or so and he was in the worst shape as far as crying was concerned and nearly hysterical. I think maybe this boy was next to his Mom and traumatised. Another helper had arrived and I took the eldest boy in this car to the hospital. I had to talk every moment of the way as the boy would only be calm when I talked. It was a long way to keep talking non-stop! Andre himself was complaining about his back so he was left to be gotten out by boat. We delivered the boys to the hospital and most of the morning was gone by then and we certainly were no longer in the mood to go to Nelson. As a matter of fact I was ready to turn in my drivers licence! We phoned that night around supper time and were told the boys were okay and actually running around the hospital. But all told it was an awful
wake-up call to how dangerous the roads were out here.  It is not like Alberta and there were no "ditches" just drop offs of who-knew-how-many feet?It' s not like Alberta and there were no “ditches” just drop offs of who-knew-how-many feet?

Little Jobs

   Being unemployed did not suit me and I travelled a few miles looking for a job similar to what I had at Twin Bridges, but to no avail.  In the meantime I picked up some pin money doing a few kid care jobs. Because I was an adult and had my own vehicle it wasn't necessary for parents to be picking me up and driving me home once they returned.  First up I looked after the baby daughter of Ed and Lorna Davidson. They just lived down the road from Frank and Lyn and when I was done I was home again in five minutes.  I also stayed at the Aldinger Farm when they went away .  They had three kids and all were well behaved and they paid well.  They had me stay there once  when they had a German niece  visiting at the same time.  I was just needed to drive everyone to town sometimes. She did not speak English.  The third family were the Morgans.  He had two daughters and one was handicapped.  She could not speak, but sign language worked well.  I even took Kathy out for a ride on Trouble.  Ever the optimist I had her up and riding before I even thought about her balance problem.  At times she would lean dangerously but we always got her straightened up again.  This was long before I knew anything about therapeutic riding and that you should have several side-walkers etc. in order to be safe. Trouble didn't seem to mind and we got away with it that time anyway.
   At some point Fred Aldinger was driving my brother and I somewhere and turned and asked me what I was going to do for work.  The man made me nervous and for some foolish reason I told him I thought I would be a hippy!  Well WRONG answer for sure!  Lucky for me,  they really needed a farm hand and the next thing I knew his wife phoned and asked me out for coffee. I rode Trouble out there and  before I left I had a job.  It included a small cabin to stay in and it was okay to have my dogs and Trouble there as well.
   And so I abandoned my little tent-house in favour of an actual log cabin and I loved it!   The job did not pay a lot of money but in the beginning I was getting board as well and the meals were great!  The Aldingers ran about 150 head of cattle and also had an Arabian Stallion on the place and a few mares as well. The men worked at their sawmill and usually there was only the wife, Irma and I on the farm.  Although Fred was not a large man he had a "big man demeanor" and I was slightly afraid of him for some reason.  He would give me my orders every morning and many times they consisted of about ten different things.  I would remember the first ant ht last thing and in between stuff had to come to me during the day or simply did not get done! He also explained that he would like me to help the kids with their riding and to ride the Stallion whenever I could. Oh Boy! Another dream about to come true!  Well that dream didn't really have a silver lining.  My first ride on Bedowi came about when he escaped and was out past Fletcher Creek.  Fred handed me his bridle and told me to walk out and bring him back.  The bridle had a snaffle bit

and I wondered at that as it was just a training bit. But what did I know? maybe this horse was really well-trained? NOT! I caught the horse easily enough and headed for home and he took off at a rapid pace. I suspect that is how Fred rode him- one speed!  When I got him home Fred asked me how I liked the Stallion and I replied that the only way you could stop him was with a strong right arm!  As a matter of fact
when I first got on the horse I looked at the thickness of his neck and wondered if both my arms were strong enough.
He was well built, stocky and strong, but basically mild mannered for a stallion.  I would ride this horse a lot and felt the power of him was akin to a D8 cat!  I remember a group ride I took him on and Frank asking why I had ridden him!  I replied that if he acted up I would go home but Bedowi was a total gentleman on the ride and we did the whole thing.

    My duties were many and varied. Sometime I would be moving cattle or doctoring belly buttons on new calves.  This consisted of daubing their belly buttons with iodine to prevent infection.  Sometimes the Momma cows didn't mind and at other times they did and you had to be quick.  Taking Chubby with me was a big mistake.  In the middle of the field all the cows started to surround me.  What did I know?  Fred was in his truck up on the highway and I well remember he stopped and hollered at me to get my blankety blank dogs

out of there! OH! That was the problem.  I had acquired a purebred Lab named Billy from the Morgans and two dogs were just too much for those Momma cows who were being protective of the calves. Thereafter the dogs had to learn to stay at the cabin and wait for my return.  This was when the dogs learned a new command - GIT! Chubby for sure picked up on that and it was often heard around the farm "Chubby Git" And he knew to git out of there.

   About this time the Aldingers had acquired another farm and they intended to keep the cattle out there at times.  I spent many hours picking rocks and roots on what would later be called the Lofsted farm. A long cow barn was put up and it would house hay as well as the cows.
   I still was no better at driving tractor than I was at Twin Bridges but one day Fred told me to take the tractor out to the mill and change the oil and the filter.  Off I went but I had no idea how to do all that. Lucky for me Allen Dungate the mill mechanic was not too busy when I arrived at the mill. I told him I didn't even know where the filter or the oil was and he stepped in and did it for me.
   The next time I had to take a machine out to the Mill though I was not so lucky.  I did get a bit of instruction from Fred.  A little wire was the choke and he showed me the gears and then said it didn't have any brakes.  Was I really foolish enough to think I didn't need them?  I drove down the highway and at the first little hill on the back road, did realize I was in too high a gear but when I tried to gear down I missed it and was now in neutral going backward much faster than I wanted to go!  This orange tractor was a kind of a loader they used in the Mill and it had forks on the front for carrying logs and behind the drivers seat were

all sorts of heavy scrap metal pieces to keep the back end down.  I was now going over large boulders at the side of the road and these metal pieces were jumping about in the air and I thought surely I was going to meet my maker right smartly! However, I turned the wheel and the machine hit the bank and the forks dropped and my wild ride came to an abrupt halt.  I had learned a new lesson. When you had no brakes you used the forks! Oh I wished Fred had told me that before I left!  I took a few minutes to get my breath back and took the machine out to the Cow barn.  I eventually mastered the use of this orange beast and used it to move the ties around to different parts of the corrals I was building.
   But the story of this machine does not end there.  Some time later I was returning to the cow barn after lunch and met a fellow running along the road toward the mill.  I stopped and asked him what was up.  He had intentions of getting to the mill to tell them about this horrible orange machine and what had happened to him.  I twigged right away and told him to get in.  Shutting the mill down was never appreciated and I knew exactly what had happened with the orange machine!  I got out and drove the orange beast and Chris drove my car back to the cow barn.  I was getting good at picking up the ties and had a lovely load on when  Chris appeared again and asked to drive the orange beast to prove he wasn't afraid of it.  No sweat! So I hopped off and let Chris drive.  The machine had kind of a hold back and would slow it down when going down a hill but you had to wait for it.  I guess Chris didn't know that and when it started to pick up speed he dropped the forks to stop and jumped off again.  So much for my lovely load and I could start all over again picking them up.

Going for Trouble

  Having had the biscuit (so to speak) with Franks horses, our next project was to go to Calgary to get Trouble. That was fine by me as I had been missing him and wanted to have him out in B.C. A trip to Calgary was always filled with visits to the folks and Lyn's parents lived not too far out of Calgary as well.
When we were ready to go home we went out to the pasture where Trouble had been boarded. There were a lot of horses out there and I wondered for a moment how I would find him and how much he had changed in six months.  The easiest way of course would be to whistle for him as I always had and I have never been so proud of him as when he came right out of the herd!  Wow almost like Fury in the movies!

  We had no horse trailer and even the racks on the back of the truck were a bit iffy.  There also was no bank easily accessible to back up to for easy loading. Frank, ever the haywire cowboy, decided the horse could just jump in from the ground.  Well it is possible and that crazy Pronto did it all the time but my young horse??  Oh  ye of little faith! Be damned if Trouble didn't give it a good try but it wasn't clean and he stumbled and hit his knees and my heart had another squeeze of the worried kind. Here I began being a worried Momma for sure and all the way home I continued to worry.  An Alberta storm came up with heavy rain and finally hail! But Frank simply pulled under an overpass and we waited it out.  it seemed a very long trip home indeed! In the end I have to say Trouble rode like a trooper, although he had never been hauled before and I was happy to get him home in one piece and happy to have him with me.

  Now many "firsts" began for Trouble as well as me.  This flat land horse did well in Alberta but B.C. was a lot different.  Riding down the back road, we startled a herd of deer and they "popped" their white tails and poor Trouble didn't know what to make of that.  Then too he had never been ridden on roads with vehicles coming by but eventually he got used to many things and seemed to be a good horse to ride and I enjoyed him a lot.

    Never one to sit still for long, the next thing Frank decided we should do is ride up to Kokanee Glacier. Oh boy, now we would really get to see the mountains!  We went with several other riders, mostly Herb Thompson's family that were almost all teenagers.  My niece Kelly came along on her pony Sugar, Frank rode Big Red of course and I had Trouble.  All our sleeping gear and tents were put in Herbs one ton truck and  his wife Fay drove it up.  One other fellow came with us on a grey horse named Toby, this was Johnny Command and although not well-versed in horses he seemed capable enough.  It was a long ride right from town for all of us.

   Eventually however, we reached the real start of the road leading up to the Glacier.  The trees were huge and thick by the sides of the road and the smell of the air different from down below.  It seemed to get fresher and fresher as we got higher.  There was good camaraderie among all riders and it was an enjoyable ride but we had to push it a bit to get to our campsite before dark.  When we arrived, Fay had camp all set up.  I had not camped out a lot at all but the Thompson family were experienced campers for sure.  We soon had our tents set up and sat down to a good hearty supper of Fays' Hamburger stew and buns.  it  was filling and tasted as good as any meal I have ever eaten. When we went to bed that night a small problem arose.  Johnny was in our tent and decided he wanted Kelly's pillow,which she was not about to part with and it was her pillow after all. Throughout the night Johnny would attempt to steal said pillow and Kelly would squawk and hang on tight. He never did get it!

    We had tied our horses to trees for the night and I was pleased to see Trouble had done alright with that. After a good breakfast we started up the actual Glacier trail.  I soon began to wonder at taking a prairie horse into the mountains.  Trouble seemed to think that as long as his left two legs were close the side of the mountain the other two could dangle off into space!  The distance to the bottom was breath-taking and I was sure if he went over we could not be able to rescue him if he did survive the fall. This would be helicopter work! But I was a prairie chicken as well (heavy on the chicken) and the heights were something new and scary at times.
   When we came to our first dead fall on the trail, Johnny proved to be a lazy rider. He simply tied the reins up and left his horse to judge how to get over it.  Toby gave it a good try but cut his ankle in the process. It was spurting blood and we all decided Johnny would have to take Toby back to Fay and she would doctor it.  So there went this big strong logger back down to the trail head.  Every so often he must have looked at the wound and not being able to tolerate the sight of blood very well would be dry heaving all the way! The sound carried back to us and we laughed every time.When he got to Fay she simply slapped flour on the wound an bound it with a neckerchief and the bleeding soon stopped.
   The rest of us continued on and I learned that in really steep places (wasn't it all that way?) you had to let your horse follow the horse in front of you and hang onto your horses tail! Oh yeah? and what if the horse kicked back?? But in truth the horses were much too busy to be kicking anyone and just worked their way up. Thank goodness horses are herd animals and stick together and follow so well!
   Once again I found myself trying to reason that neither my brother or Herb (who was a forest ranger) would take me somewhere I could be killed? But that possibility looked very possible sometimes! I also learned slick-soled cowboy boots were not the best footwear in the mountains and thereafter would have treaded soles put on my boots by the shoemaker. I often slipped and slid backwards. Fortunately the horses were shod with toe and heel shoes for better grip.
   Even the very last bit of trail was difficult with a huge boulder to negotiate! But what an exhilarating sight to come out at the top--similar to being on top of the world!! You could see for many miles and there were lots more mountains for sure and all looked different in some way or the other. It was very still and quiet and I am sure the horses enjoyed walking on soft grasses and a flat trail for a change.  We ambled around and went to the cabin we knew was there but all too soon we had to go back down again or get caught up here in the dark. But after such a hard climb is seemed a shame not to be able to linger a bit longer.

   Much as I love living in B.C., its true that everything is either up or down.  If you go up sooner or later you have to go down again and vice-versa of course.  And so we checked our cinches and started down again.  Down is hard on the knees and Herb knew it was hard on the horses as well and would call a rest every so often.  I was always up for that! Without any further incidents we arrived back at camp. Fay had supper cooked and again it tasted like fruit of the Gods! Was I hungry!

Johnny received a lot of teasing with his dry heaves that had echoed up the mountain and we sat around the fire hashing over our good day of riding, but not for long. It had been a tiring day and it was not long before we were all in bed snoring and sleeping the tired off.
   The next day was great weather once again and we packed up camp and got Fay headed down the road first and then followed on  our horses. I was pretty proud of my prairie horse and when we reached the bottom of the Glacier road everyone started loading their horses in trucks. There wasn't room for Trouble and although a young lad offered to ride him home I declined his offer and rode the rest of the way by myself
and at one point picked up Chubby to give him a rest as well.  It had been a marvellous trip when I thought about it and I looked forward to more but just not right away?  We had our first mountain trip under out belt and had survived. Could it get any better?
   

My Tent-house & Franks' Horses

After a few months, I suppose it got tiring for my brother Frank and his wife Lyn to have me living with them. I did work and help Frank with various projects but I never paid any board. I lent Lyn my car a lot for her to go to work at the Bank but basically both Frank and I were unemployed.  He received unemployment insurance but I did not.  My money from Twin Bridges soon dwindled away.  Before it was totally gone it was decided that I would reside in a tent-house.
 We bought ship lap lumber and made a floor then four foot walls and erected a tent my brother had on top.  I think Frank was always happiest when he had a project going and I enjoyed it as everything was a learning process for sure.  We cut a hole in the tent and applied two layers of tin so I could have the smallest little airtight stove they ever made I think.  The site for this tiny "home in the woods" was only about 200 ft. from their house, but I thought it was great.  Like the" boll-weevil"  in the old song I had always been "lookin' for a home"!  There was only room for a bunk at one end and the stove at the other and there I was with my very first "home".
  After supper at the house I would take my lantern and walk over with Chubby and sleep in my little home.  We were content even though the mosquito's were all hatching like crazy.  Going out for a night-time pee was most dangerous and of course impossible not to collect several bites. Still Chubby and I were content enough with our lot.
   For some reason I decided to nail a wooden orange box on a tree for the resident squirrel that seemed to be my alarm clock every morning.  I would leave him small offerings and I think he enjoyed them.  One night not realising squirrels are a tad nocturnal I held the lantern up to see if he had eaten what I left him.  He was in there! He surprised and startled me so much I nearly dropped the lantern! I guess I had surprised him just as badly and I went into my little tent shaking my head and asking myself "Well, what were you thinking?"
   Riding the spare horse my brother had, could prove hazardous to your health.  The horse was a white one named Pronto.(In truth there are few truly white horses and most of them are considered grey-but to the novice they look white so what the heck?) this particular horse had been given to my brother when a woman noticed a bridle hanging in his truck from the gun rack. One should always be suspicious of "free". Pronto was a handful and could kick quicker than a mule but I don't remember him deliberately kicking a human unless of course you wanted to pick up his feet. He would not tolerate that and it was always a challenge for Frank to trim him and putting shoes on him was a definite day long challenge that included ropes and many mind challenges of how to get it done. I think in the end the horse just got tired??
  I rode this horse a lot but he certainly was not one you could ever relax on or enjoy.  If he decided he wasn't going to cooperate on a ride he would leap in the air and do these kangaroo jumps for some time down the road and the rider was headed for home whether they wanted to go or not!  He had done this many times and it made me go to my equipment I had gathered from being at Twin Bridges and I put a running martingale on him.  This seemed to work and give me some leverage and control over the horse
 and at least I wasn't taken home by him anymore.  I had used this piece of equipment when starting the young horses at Twin Bridges and it worked well on this older horse too.
  I entered Kaslo's small horse show with Pronto before I had started using the martingale  and had been taken home at a rapid pace. You could say "a ride of a lifetime".  I was not in a hurry to do this again when everyone decided to attend the Crawford Bay show.  Pronto was fast and if one could control that speed he would surely win some ribbons! IF one could control him!  We started nightly practise sessions and on one I decided I did not need to ride this horse or attend the damn show!  Pronto grew frustrated at turning barrels sharply and started rearing.  My brothers solution was to use a whip on him for it. I have never liked hitting a horse at all and through out the years there would be many times when I probably should have. At my brothers urging I did apply the whip but the horse continued to rear and actually lost his footing and sat down and I thought he was coming over
and departed in a hurry. I somersaulted and lost my glasses and the whip and I am sure with the sense of humour Frank had it looked funny.  He laughed until he almost wet himself!  I did not think it was funny and quit right there and said I wasn't riding that crazy horse again! As far as I was concerned that horse belonged in a can!
  Frank had two other horses at the time.  Big Red was Franks horse and he had acquired another horse as well, this was Bug. Again I think Frank was given this horse and he had been the spoiled baby of some woman that grew disenchanted with owning a horse and wanted out of the bargain.

  Around that time too, Frank decided we should make a chuckwagon and go in the parade.  Well its always a good idea to try these things first and we did.  His waggon wasn't much more than a tongue, a reach and four rubber tired wheels. Frank used this piece of machinery for hauling logs to the mill. We had a lot of fun figuring out how to make it into what looked like a chuckwagon.  It had several "bunks" that stuck up in the air and we thought we could put plastic water hose on the bunks to make "hoops" for the waggon.  As always the fun was in the planning.  We had things nearly together but had not applied the canvas tarp yet when we decided to give it  a whirl.  Down the road we went and I am afraid my memory does not serve me well here-I suspect I had the living beejasus scared out of me.  I don't know how my brother disappeared but he did and Bug was totally out of control and I suspect scared out of his mind as well!  Somehow, with all the bumping and rough road and in and out of the ditch, the reach that held the front wheels and back wheels together parted and I eventually ended up with Bug stopped and only the front half of the waggon and the front wheels with me!  Well once again when Frank finally arrived I thought he was going to give himself a hernia he laughed so much.   To this day Frank Laughs big and loud!  When I first arrived I knew my brother loved me and would never do me any harm but now I was starting to wonder.  These escapades were really hard on the heart at times and I have to admire the tolerance of my sister-in-law that would come home to tales of our ventures while she had been working. Probably she had lived with Frank long enough not to want to be part of them?  I was starting to think he was only keeping me around for daily entertainment?  It was probably well-worth feeding me for both of them??

Enough of the Reality

  Well, that's enough of reality turning my bloggin' upside down.  One cannot escape real life but it has been a blast going through my past so here I go again with the saga of living in Kaslo.  It may cover a period of forty-one years so could last me the rest of my life?  Its a long time to remember back and not easy to do,without my photographs I would not be able to. And then too finances were such that I was not taking a lot of photos.Funny how my albums go according to that. At some point I may get back to writing dog-catching stories but it really hasn't been all that interesting and doesn't turn my crank at the moment so here we go again folks. Very nice to have at least one person comment that I wasn't writing these days.
   Although I will grieve my Momma Bea's passing for some time it is now something I can carry with me and still go on. She was here, we enjoyed our years together and now that has come to an end and I carry her in my heart most tenderly. Enough said.

My Momma Bea

First, I loved my Mother. Then I loved my grandmother. My Father passed away when I was six and my brother and I were more or less raised by my grandparents, while my Mom returned to work. It is only now that I could have been a grandparent myself that I think of how difficult this may have been for them. Those were their retirement years and instead they had two young children to put up with and all the trials that came with it. They never wavered and got the job done regardless of any difficulties. I don't believe we were easy to raise at all. In any case my grandparents left me with an affinity for older people. I seem to not only understand them, but to enjoy them.

Bea came into my life when we rescued a goose that had fishing line imbedded in its leg. Its a story in itself and has been written and even sold to the Nelson Daily News. That was back in 1993. In the years between then we became good friends. Although I admired her Independence and strength, it also frustrated me at times when she would not ask for help on harder tasks. I would find her sawing down a volunteer hazelnut tree that was growing in her hedge. It was more than and inch across and very solid wood. That time she at least let me finish it for her. But for the most part she ran her house and garden all on her own.  In later years I was allowed to shovel snow for her but I had to get there early or she would have finished it already. Eventually I could no longer keep it up either and she hired someone to do the shovelling.

Most of my suggestions for change fell on deaf ears, even though her hearing was fine. When I suggested the birds had a whole lake to drink out of and didn’t really need a heated bird bath all winter,she simply replied that the lake wasn't “warm water”.                

                                                                           

Beas place was a haven for many animals and all were welcome as long as they behaved. The bear took down the fence getting his fat bottom over it and that required the Milner men to come in and fix it. The deer were given all leftover winter apples and the birds of course were fed for many years every day. Of course the skunks and raccoons came as well. For years Bea would live trap these creatures and move them out to Buchanan to a new life. She was careful and calm and seldom got “skunked”   Once she caught a rather large one and had to use  her wheelbarrow to transport it to the car. She called her car "Bridget".  This little car transported more than twenty skunks out of Kaslo, free of charge. On one occasion Bea and I had been to Nelson and upon our return did not want to deal with the latest captive. We decided to let it go and catch it another day. I thought maybe she  

had them half-tame and I approached the trap but as always I spoke first- for my efforts I got a face-full of skunk!  It burned and blinded me for a short time. Bea was in attendance immediately and mixed up the skunk treatment and applied it to me. After that I left  her on her own and only once accompanied her on one more transporting. She seemed to know what she was doing and I had learned I was no Skunk Whisperer for sure.

Bea baked me many many cookies. She  made a lot of cakes too. Little wonder I weigh what I do now. As time went on I saw her on a daily basis and was able to help her a bit more. I became the chauffeur for drives to Nelson. In later years there were a few “discussions” of my driving and I found this a tad annoying at times. But for the most part we got along very well and helped one another in various capacities. Her pet peeve with me was my lateness in picking her up for blood tests. I must have driven her crazy as she was an “on time” kind of person. Sometimes she would start out without me if she was too frustrated at my lateness.  We both had dogs and a cat as well. When Bea was away I would care for her animals and when I needed someone for my dog Keeper, Bea was always up for it. This enabled both of us to go on a few holidays or hospital stays and not have to worry. On one of my moves from the farm it was Bea that took my cat home in a carrier and left him in the bathroom to be picked up at a later date. Our relationship was surely not one-sided and we both benefited in some way or the other. We shared many a coffee together and many laughs as well. We had a similiar kind of humour and it often was about animals.

The Milner family was a large part of both our lives and Bea seemed always to be making something for one member or another. It might be a new scarf for the girls or a nightie for Meg or socks for Bruce and Adam. I certainly was not left out and received socks and slippers and vests and her very last gift to me was a sweater that I love and will cherish for a long time. I doubt hand knit things are as appreciated as they once were but I know we appreciate what Bea made for us.

Bea was a very hard worker and in the end that is what caused her move to Nelson. Her back was fracturing as she continued to try and keep her garden in good shape,as she always had. Her body would no longer do her bidding and it simply became necessary for her to move. It broke her heart even though she made the decision herself. Her wish was to return home even though that was impossible. Now she has moved again and somewhere I know she is right back preparing a garden somewhere.


If you see a cloud that looks all pruned up and cared for I bet that is her work! Bea had a wonderful twenty of more years of retirement lived her way and how she wanted it. She did well here on earth and never shirked any work that needed to be done. I called her My Momma Bea as many of you know. The only trouble with having an “adopted Mom” is then you get to lose two! But she lives on in our hearts and simply was a damn fine woman in my books!

Starting Over Again

 It seemed before I knew it we were bound for Kaslo, B.C.  My brother had been "shopping" in all the old farm scrap piles and had ended up with a trailer full of stuff behind his truck.  All of my worldly belongings were stuffed in my car and Chubby happily took up
residence in the back window where he could keep an eye on things.  I was in contact with Ken and he met us for coffee just out of Calgary and drove with us for a time and then he headed back.  Although he had thought to come out for a visit, he never did and I never saw him again. True to his word, he moved Trouble for me to a boarding facility(and paid the board for several months) he also took my cats to a humane society.  I had found the cats beside the road in a sack and took them home on my horse.  They became outside cats and did very well on the farm. I have never understood how people could be so cruel as to put cats in a bag and just throw them away like garbage.It was the middle of a very cold winter when I found them.

Meanwhile back on the road we were making not too bad a time. We stopped in Banff to admire the wild sheep and then continued on. After we crossed Kootenay Lake on the ferry, my niece joined me in my car for a change of pace.  I asked her many times if this was Coffee Creek?  This part of the road is especially scary for prairie people and for some reason I had a real thing about it that day. Each time I asked Kelly would reply "Not yet Aunty Joyce".  Eventually we were through that piece of road and found ourselves at their log house on the back road.  I would stay here for some months.

   Here I would begin a series of "first times".  It started right away when my brother wanted to load a few logs he had cut and take them to the Mill down the road.  I was introduced to a peavy.  This is a tool that has a movable hook on it and enables one to roll logs and hold them from rolling back again.Together we rolled the logs onto a trailer with bunks to hold the logs and during the process I really thought we might die if I did not give it my all.  But we got the job done and took the logs out and I made my first $20.00 in B.C.
    My bad ankle had continued to bother me and we finally came on a good solution of wrapping a leather belt around my cowboy boot in such a way that it gave me the support I needed. It would seem that the old saying of "Whatever It Takes" had followed me to B.C.