Ridin', Reinin' and Writin'

I have always believed there are lines of connectivity that are outside our five senses. There are threads out there in the universe that connect in ways we don't fully understand. The following story is one of those things.

 A few weeks ago, a friend of mine approached me to help her find a reining horse. She was quite specific…she wanted a four year old mare, well bred, trained and suitable for her level of riding. I immediately told her it could be hard to find but I knew of one possibility. I checked with the trainer and the mare was still available. After much interaction re: texts, photos and videos with the both the trainer and me, she committed to buying the mare. Since the pretty dun mare was entered in a reining show in Alberta, Sherry chose that time to make the trip to see her and to arrange a ride back to BC. Before the show, though, Sherry and her husband parked their motor home in my yard and we caught up. It had been 16 years!

 The first day here, we saddled my mares and rode. It was a beautiful day and at one point, we stopped and talked for quite some time, sitting in the sun on our horses. Sherry was not quite happy with the barn name her new mare had been given and we discussed that a bit before the conversation shifted to stories of our childhood and how we grew up. Sherry's mind was very much on her father, who she had just lost, and many memories were of him.

 But Sherry was hesitant, having never ate a peach before because they were expensive and not something the family could afford. Hesitantly, she picked out a little peach.

 "No," her dad said. "Pick a peach, a good one!" and he reached in and chose the biggest, fattest peach and gave it to his daughter, who bit into the delicious fruit. Sherry remembers with absolute clarity walking away, juice running down her chin, holding her dad's hand and looking at him like he had hung the moon.

 From the beginning of her story, the hair rose on my arms. Finally, when she reached that point of her story, I had to say something.

 "Sherry," I said. "It's gotta be "Peach"! Don't you see? It has already been decided."

Because, you see, the registered name of the mare she had just bought was Einsteins Peach and Sherry had "picked a peach".

I'm sure her father is smiling.

I don't believe there has ever been a time in my life that I loved my horses more. I begin each day looking out the window at them; I visit each one in the early morning sun; I breathe in their aura, their acceptance, their love. I tend to their needs throughout the day – fly masks, meds if needed, feeding in the winter - and I ride. I am "home" when I am on the back of one of my mares.

My view in the morning

"You are my heart."

Canada's 150th has got me back to blogging! For sure it got me wandering back though the years...
In the July 1st post (Oh Canada) I shared an excerpt from my mother's book - the story of my great grandfather and great grandmother (Louis and Rachel Giauque) arriving in Canada 120 years ago. What about 100 years ago? The story continues...

Exactly one hundred years ago, 1917, the eldest son of those pioneers, my grandfather, Leslie Giauque, left the homestead in the elbow of the Saskatchewan River to establish with his family a ranch in the Coteau Hills. Still in the family and now called the Diamond Dot Ranch, it is 100 years old this year! Here, from Mom's book again, is what life was like for grandma and grandpa and their young family in 1917 - a hundred years ago!

….
         But the beginning of the end had come for the ranch at the elbow of the river. Leslie's younger brothers, Hoy and Hubert, had enlisted for active service in World War I. Both had lost their lives. Before enlisting Hoy had homesteaded a quarter section of land in the Coteau Hills about sixty miles upriver from the elbow. Now the land reverted to the government and my father acquired it along with other lease land in that area. He bought, also, a quarter section of deeded land from a discouraged homesteader adjoining his lease. There he brought his family and there we continued to live for the thirty or so years that Leslie operated a horse ranch in the Coteau Hills.

        The first winter away from the old Giauque Ranch at the elbow, however, was spent on Hoy's homestead quarter. There was a dugout barn and a house sheltered from the wind by Maple Butte which towered to the north of them. That first winter at the new ranch must have been a nightmare for the young mother. She was city born, not of pioneer stock. Regardless, no one ought to be expected to bear the isolation which she was to experience.

        Early in December, by team and sleigh, Leslie left for the elbow homestead. He wanted to see that his mother was all right for the winter ahead. Also, supplies were needed for this own household. He planned to be away for ten days at most, but it was a little more than three weeks before he returned. It was the tail end of the year 1917 and a dreadful epidemic of influenza was beginning to take its toll. There was no way to get word to his wife that he had been stricken. She could only wait and worry, alone with three children. What would she do if he never returned? There were neighbours three miles away, an old man and his wife who never left her house. The man came once a day to feed and water the stallion in the barn, a chore that Gertie was afraid to do. Every day that Leslie lay sick he worried and far sooner than he should have done he left his bed and started back to Maple Butte. The sixty miles that would ordinarily have taken two days now took three for he was weakened by the illness.

Gertrude and Leslie Giauque on their wedding day 1912.

Before....

... and after!

• A hundred years ago, December 1917, a father bought this trunk for his daughter and it made its way by team and sleigh to a little ranch house in the Coteau Hills and into the hands of a little girl, my mother. Today it has a place of honour in my home.
• A hundred years ago, in 1917,  the ranch known today as the Diamond Dot Ranch was established by my Grandpa and Grandma. Today that ranch is owned by my brother.
• A hundred years ago, 1917, Canada was a mere fifty years old! A few days ago, the nation celebrated Canada's 150th! How things have changed in a hundred years!

Today, on the 150th anniversary of the confederation of Canada, I reflected on my heritage. I knew of course, like most Canadians, many of my ascendants were not born in Canada. But where and when were they born? And when did they or their descendants come to Canada? My great grandfather on my mother's side was actually born in 1867 - in Holland. But the story that appeals to me most is this one, taken from my mother's book "Back to the Coteau Hills". I am so grateful that she took the time to document this history, the details extracted from her father and grandmother. My grandfather, her father, moved to Canada in 1897 on Canada's thirtieth anniversary. Here is that story, an excerpt from Mom's book: