Welcome to Canada!

I spent one afternoon last week working as a volunteer in our local second hand store. As I looked around the tiny shop, I couldn’t help noticing how the face of our small community has changed. Like almost every other rural community across the Canadian prairie, the town we raised our children in, just a few short years ago, had one Chinese family running a restaurant. There was also a doctor of East Indian descent who originally hailed from Ghana. That was about it for multiculturalism. The rest of us could trace our ancestry to various parts of Europe, but that’s no longer the case. In the shop that afternoon, there was my friend, Karen, a temporary foreign worker from the Philippines and over there, a young Asian couple. I’m pretty sure they were Korean. Another Korean family lives kitty-corner from me. In the shop, there was also a young Mexican Mennonite man, one of many who have made this area home over the past few years, and two women from one of the nearby Hutterite colonies. I live around the corner from a family from South Africa and another family of newcomers bought the house at the end of our street. The wife is from Honduras and her husband, El Salvador. Yes, our community has changed. It has opened its arms and welcomed the world and I love it!

Now we’re faced with the current refugee crisis and our government’s decision to open our country’s doors to 25 000 Syrians. Sadly, many are responding in ignorance and fear.

There are fears, perhaps even legitimate fears, that terrorists may hide themselves in the masses and infiltrate our peaceful nation and fears that jobs may be lost to these newcomers, but as I watched the news last night and looked into the faces of the sixteen weary Syrians who arrived at the Calgary airport yesterday, I saw people, real people, some with fear in their own eyes. Imagine for a moment what they have been through, what they’ve sacrificed, what they’ve left behind to begin a new life in a new and very strange land. They are not here to make our lives worse, but to make their own lives better and in so doing, they can make our country richer if we give them the opportunity. Who are we, born in Canada through no effort of our own, and benefitting greatly from the hard work and sacrifice of those who came before us, who were themselves newcomers from foreign lands looking for a better life, to close our doors and our hearts to these whose very lives have been torn apart by the atrocities of war? Who do we think we are?

Sadly, I also see racism in the response of some of my fellow Canadians. Canadians like the elderly man working the till at Walmart yesterday, who, during a few moment’s conversation while checking and bagging our purchases, complained bitterly that he’d soon be out of work because “one hundred of those Syrians are coming to Camrose and they’re going to take jobs from all the good people!” Perhaps I should have asked him where his people came from. He certainly didn’t appear to be of First Nations descent!

Much of the fear stems from the fact that these newcomers are Muslims, descendants of Esau, betrayed and robbed of his birthright by his twin brother, our spiritual ancestor, Jacob (Genesis 25-27). They are Muslims, painted with the same brush as the extremists who behead Christians on the beaches of north Africa and who strap explosives to their bodies and blow themselves to smithereens in the public places of Paris, killing and maiming hundreds of innocent bystanders. Are these the Muslims who seek refuge in our country? I don’t think so! That’s like saying that all Chinese Canadians are like Vince Weiguang Li who beheaded a fellow passenger on a Greyhound bus on the way to Winnipeg in July 2008 and ate some of his flesh!

It would be naive to suggest that there won’t be any problems involved in opening our borders to such a huge influx of refugees and I join my voice with others in urging our government to use wisdom and diligence in choosing who will be allowed to come, but how much worse will the problems be if we greet these newcomers with fear and animosity instead of extending a hand of compassion? The government has promised intense and rigorous security checks of each person who arrives in Canada and there is every reason to believe that this current wave of refugees will face the same scrutiny and review as all those who have come before them. For more information on that process, you can go here. Our new Prime Minister has already delayed the December 31 deadline for allowing the 25 000 to enter the country in order to “get it right”. The three families that arrived in Calgary yesterday all escaped war-torn Syria a year ago and have been waiting in Lebanon for permission to come to Canada where they were greeted by family members already living there.

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It is the response of some of my fellow Christ-followers that bothers me most of all. Yes, the Christian face of our country is rapidly changing, but if God has called us to reach the lost for Christ, how much easier will it be for us if they come to us? Not many of us can “go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19) but we can reach out to the ones who move in next door to us with love and compassion and be the hands of Christ to them. It is not only immigrants of other faiths who are robbing our country of its Christian heritage, it is also those born and raised here who have become so self-sufficient and so self-centred that they see no need for a god of any kind and can only express hatred toward those they don’t understand or agree with.

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Photos: Darren Makowichuk/Calgary Sun

Fall camping

IMG_5618I’ve always wanted to go camping in the fall; always hoped for just one more outing with the trailer before winter hit. As teachers, it never happened. We were back in the classroom and up to our eyeballs in work by late August or the first week of September. Then, with retirement came several years of helping our friend, Louis, with harvest. I loved being out on the combine, but it meant that there was no time for camping in the fall.

Finally, this year it happened! We packed up the trailer last Wednesday morning and headed for Miquelon Lake Provincial Park, less than an hour and a half from home. Surrounded by the spectacular colours of the season, fall camping was everything I always thought it would be! Though we got caught in the rain while out geocaching on Wednesday afternoon, the clouds soon disappeared and for the remainder of our time the weather was glorious.

Here in Alberta, we don’t get the wide variety of fall colours that are found in eastern Canada, but everywhere I turned I was surrounded by beauty and I took dozens of pictures!

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We found 14 geocaches within the park boundaries, but the highlight of our trip was definitely Friday’s hike. We left the trailhead late in the morning intending to hike 7.3 kilometres, but we’d completed all but 1.5 km of that by the time we stopped to eat lunch! Digging out our trail map, we quickly decided to add what we had originally thought might be a separate hike sometime in the future. In the end, we covered 13.2 km! Considering the fact that just a few months ago, I couldn’t walk more than two km without playing out, I was pretty stoked!

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Those of you who’ve been reading my blog for very long know how much we enjoy exploring old abandoned houses that give us glimpses into life in days gone by. Imagine our surprise and delight when Richard spotted an old brick chimney rising out of the bush a short distance from the trail. Of course, we had to take a closer look! Although the girl manning the park office couldn’t give us any information about the house or its original inhabitants, it was easy to see that the two storey structure and its smaller outbuilding must have been there long before the park was established in 1958.

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Though we didn’t see any of the larger wildlife, including deer, moose and elk, that live within the park, there was clear evidence of their presence along the trails. Plenty of fresh hoof prints and droppings told us they weren’t far off. What we did see were squirrels, muskrat, tiny frogs, a surprising number of garter snakes and an abundance of water fowl. As Miquelon Lake and the numerous wetland areas within the park are located within two of North America’s migratory flyways, flocks of migrating geese honked their way overhead and settled on the lake each evening.

Miquelon Lake is also part of the Beaver Hills Dark Sky Preserve, an an area that has been established to reduce the glare of artificial light and increase the visibility of the night sky. Each evening, as we sat around the fire in the crisp evening air, darkness settled around us and stars filled the sky. What could be more relaxing?

Dare I hope for one more camping trip before winter arrives?

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Donalda day trip

Every time we travel Highway 53 on our way to Red Deer, Calgary or other points to the south, we dip down into Meeting Creek Coulee, the northern most point of the Canadian Badlands. As we climb back out, we pass the access road to the tiny village of Donalda. With its population of about 260 people, it perches on a bluff overlooking the vast valley below. Over the years, we’ve often thought that this would be a great area to go hiking and apparently, we weren’t the only ones. A few years back, the community developed and advertised a hiking trail. When we discovered that geocachers had hidden some caches both in town and along the trail, our interest grew and finally, yesterday was the day. We packed a picnic lunch and off we went! IMG_5318Donalda’s greatest claim to fame is the world’s largest lamp, a replica of the oil lamps that once lit the homes of early settlers across this land. Standing 42 feet tall at the end of the town’s quaint main street and just across the corner from a museum that houses the world’s largest collection of oil lamps, it was lit for the first time on July 1, 2000. All night, every night, its light shines out over the valley below. Inside its base, visitors enjoy a series of paintings depicting the town in its earlier days. Our first cache was hidden just outside. IMG_5327 IMG_5323  IMG_5322 IMG_5321 IMG_5316 After picnicking close to the lamp and the restored railway station nearby, we searched out the other two caches that are hidden in town and then set off along the hiking trail. We expected to find ourselves walking along the rim of the coulee, but instead, we followed a woodland trail that eventually led us out onto an open bluff overlooking the valley below. Seldom ones to stay on the beaten track, after stopping to rest at a picnic table with a spectacular view, we set off to follow an animal trail down into the valley. IMG_5351 I hiked down to the flat valley floor while Richard explored the interesting formations on another close by bluff. IMG_5344 IMG_5345 IMG_5346 The valley is far vaster than we ever realized from the highway and my photos hardly do it justice, but it was great to finally trek through a very small part of it. There are so many interesting places close to home if one but takes the time to explore them! IMG_5334 IMG_5335 IMG_5336

Magical Mystery Tour

Several weeks ago, an insert appeared in our Sunday Morning church bulletin advertising the SCCN (Sedgewick Community Church of the Nazarene) Magical Mystery Tour. “Come ride the bus to our unannounced destination for a fantastic fun filled day of fellowship and food” it proclaimed. Today’s date was given, but very few other details.

I checked the calendar and the day was open. What fun! Those of you who know me well or who’ve been following my blog for very long know that I like nothing better than packing up and going somewhere. Anywhere, whether it be a day trip or a year in Japan, I’m game to go! It’s the gypsy in my blood!

At 10:30 this morning approximately 30 of us gathered in front of the church. “Where do you think we’re going?” some asked while others tried to guess. The 32 passenger County of Flagstaff community bus pulled up and we knew we’d be traveling in style. With temperatures of over 30ºC forecast, we’d definitely appreciate the air conditioning!

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I’ve always been the travel planner in our family. For me, part of the fun of traveling is the planning that usually goes into it, but today I felt like a kid climbing aboard the bus with absolutely no idea where it was going to take me! Soon we were headed north, passing vast fields of bright yellow canola in bloom. Perhaps we were going to Viking, hometown of the Sutters, one of the most famous families in NHL history. Six of the seven Sutter brothers made it to the National Hockey League in the 1970s and 80s and four of them went on to become coaches and general managers. Half an hour north of Sedgewick, Viking is also hometown to our Mystery Tour organizer. Perhaps she knew of something interesting for us to do in the small town of just over 1000 people. But no, the bus continued onward.

When we turned west on Highway 16, we began to speculate that our destination might be Vegreville, home of the world’s largest pysanka (Ukrainian Easter egg). Sure enough, though we passed by the giant egg, the bus pulled into town and stopped at the historic train station. Built in 1930, it now houses the Station Cafe where a delicious buffet of authentic Ukrainian food awaited us. After relaxing around the tables, we were given a tour of the building. Many of us decided that we’d happily move into the beautifully renovated upper story that once housed the station master’s family.

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Our second stop was, in fact, the park with the 9.4 metre high pysanka that reflects the traditional art of the many Ukrainian settlers who made this part of Alberta their home.

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A stop for ice cream in Viking on the way home rounded out our day. Though the results of my most recent glucose tests were pretty good, I am pre diabetic and I’d already indulged in a small dessert back at the train station so I knew I’d better forgo another sweet treat. Besides, after filling up on cabbage rolls, perogies and other Ukrainian delights, I wasn’t the least bit hungry!

The Magical Mystery Tour was definitely all that it promised to be; a day filled with fun, fellowship and fantastic food. In fact, some of us are hoping that a new SCCN tradition has been born!

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The old farmstead

If you’ve been following my blog for very long, you may remember how much I enjoy exploring the old farmsteads scattered across the prairie. If only walls could talk, what stories they would tell!

Today, we made the one hour drive to Wainwright to pick up a piece that Richard had ordered for the golf cart. On the way, we passed an old abandoned house hiding behind an abundance of beautiful lilacs. As always, I was intrigued.

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When we arrived in Wainwright, we discovered that the wrong part had been ordered! Fortunately, the trip was not for naught. We went out for lunch, did a bit of much needed shopping and found eight geocaches before heading for home. On the way back, Richard slowed the vehicle as we once again approached the old house hiding behind the lilac bushes.

“Do you want to stop?” he asked, already knowing what the answer would be. Of course, I did!

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Can you imagine sitting in the shade on the front porch gazing across the open prairie or watching the stars come out at night?

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The floor is rotted out in places, exposing the root cellar under the kitchen, so we didn’t walk around inside but it was easy to take photos through the open windows and doors. Who slept in the two small bedrooms, I wondered, and what did they dream about? I’m sure that many good times were had as well as challenges met under that roof.

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Before we left, Richard took out his trusty pocket knife and snipped off a few sprigs of lilac. I have no idea who planted those bushes, now so overgrown, but their heavenly scent now fills my kitchen!

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Solitude

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Richard and I spent the past couple of days doing three of the things that we most enjoy at this time of year… camping, hiking and geocaching.

Big Knife Provincial Park, located in central east Alberta where Big Knife Creek flows into the Battle River, is less than an hour from home for us. Like many locations on the Canadian prairie, it takes it’s name from our native history. Two hundred years ago, the Blackfoot and Cree who inhabited the area were bitter enemies. According to legend, Big Man, a Cree, and Knife, a Blackfoot, fought near the banks of the creek, which at this time of year is little more than a muddy breeding ground for mosquitoes. Apparently both warriors died in the battle.

Though the campground and day use areas are probably somewhat busier on weekends and during the height of the summer, the park was almost empty while we were there providing us the peace and solitude we were looking for. We spent several hours on Wednesday tramping the River Flats trail system and yesterday we hiked the Highland trails. Though my stamina isn’t quite what I’m used to it being and we stopped to rest more often than we might have in the past, I was impressed that I could quite easily hike for several hours a day without completely wearing out.

The trails were far from challenging, mostly level and grass covered. With the sun shining overhead, tiny wildflowers strewn along our path, butterflies flitting around our ankles, birds singing in the nearby trees, and the sweet musky scent of the silver willow bushes wafting on the breeze, walking was a delight. We did do a bit of “real” hiking though, first leaving the River Flats trails to get a close-up view of the nearby hoodoos, then deciding to climb a steep hill and follow a narrow animal track along the top of a bluff that would have scared me out of my wits a few years ago before I overcame my fear of heights.

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Only one of the eleven geocaches hidden throughout the park eluded us. It was suppose to be at the end of that narrow animal track, though the cacher who placed it recommended coming at it from the other direction. We searched a wide area around the given coordinates but came up empty handed. The view was spectacular though and the trek well worth it.

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There’s a cache up there somewhere… maybe

Not all of the caches were out on the trails. Shortly before dusk, we spotted a beaver in the water’s edge munching on a stick while we were searching for the one that’s hidden not too far from the boat launch. I couldn’t get close enough to get a good photo, but we stood and watched him until he quietly slid into the water and swam away.

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Storm brewing

I love the solitude of nature; no TV, no telephone, and no internet, but I also love the conveniences of modern day camping. On Wednesday night, a storm blew in bringing much needed rain to the surrounding countryside but we were snug and warm in our trailer bed as the thunder crashed and lightning flashed. It had blown over long before morning came and oh, how well I slept!

The gift of relaxation

We received our first Christmas gift a bit early this year and what a wonderful one it was! After a two day drive through the mountains, we arrived at our son Matt’s home in Vancouver in time for supper on Dec. 20th. After a quick meal, the three of us headed for Whistler where his in-laws have a ‘cabin’. Not the rustic sort of shelter that I grew up calling a cabin, but a lovely 4 bedroom, 2 bathroom fully equipped house. Robin, her parents and our two young grandson’s were already there. That evening, Matt and Robin presented us with our present… gift cards to Whistler’s Scandinave Spa to enjoy while they hit the ski hills the following day.

 

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photo credit

 

Nestled into a snowy forested hillside, Scandinave Spa is a haven of peace and tranquility, definitely a little piece of heaven on earth! After walking through the spruce and cedar forest, we entered the reception area where we were issued towels, bathrobes and locker keys. There, the relaxation sequence was also explained: warm your body for 10 to 15 minutes, rinse in cold water for 20 to 30 seconds, then relax for 15 minutes. Repeat the sequence 3 or 4 times.

Our first stop was the eucalyptus steam bath where I could feel tension melting away as my body temperature rose. Ahh… what a wonderful sensation! I felt as though I could stay there forever but soon it was time to move on. Moving outdoors, we strolled down the heated walkway in the crisp mountain air and plunged into the 18ºC cold pool! Wow! That was definitely invigorating!

After relaxing in one of the comfortable solariums, we moved on to one of the outdoor hot pools where we enjoyed sitting under the thermal waterfall and letting the water pummel our shoulders, neck and back. Continuing the hot, cold, relax sequence, we visited both hot pools and the wood burning sauna, plunging into the cold pool or standing under the nordic shower after each hot session and relaxing in the solariums in between. We tried sitting by the outdoor fireplace but it was beginning to drizzle and we found it a bit too chilly. The spa is open year round though so a summer visit would likely include relaxing on the outdoor terraces.

I enjoyed every part of the experience but I knew almost from the beginning that my visit wouldn’t be complete without another session in the steam bath so our last sequence was identical to our first.

In addition to the therapeutic value of hydrotherapy, silence is also an essential component of the Scandinavian bath experience. Though there were a few people who didn’t seem to think that rules applied to them, most of the patrons honoured the no speaking rule making our three hours a soothing, serene experience, one I’d love to repeat someday!

Thank you, Matt and Robin!

My heart hurts

flag-tower-thMy heart aches today. Two soldiers have been killed on Canadian soil this week. 53-year-old Patrice Vincent, a 28-year veteran of the Canadian Forces, was mowed down by a hit and run driver in a Montreal parking lot on Monday in what appears to have been a deliberate act. Then this morning, 24-year-old Nathan Cirillo, a Canadian Forces reservist, was gunned down while standing guard at the National War Memorial in Ottawa. Minutes later, shots rang out in the halls of our parliament building where the Prime Minister and his caucus were meeting.

Vincent and Cirillo were not the only ones to lose their lives this week. Two assailants are also dead. 25-year-old Martin “Ahmad” Couture-Rouleau was shot and killed by police following a high-speed chase after he rammed his car into Vincent and another soldier. Couture-Rouleau was known to federal authorities as one who had become radicalized after converting to Islam in 2013. His passport was seized when he attempted to leave the country and travel to Turkey last summer and he was one of 90 people being monitored by the RCMP because they were suspected of being involved in terrorism-related activities. After this morning’s shooting and the assault on Parliament Hill, Michael Zehaf-Bibeau, a 32-year-old Canadian citizen and also a convert to Islam, was shot dead by House of Commons sergeant-at-arms, Kevin Vickers, within the walls of Centre Block, our main parliamentary building.

Four men dead. Four families in mourning and a country in shock. Though the scale is miniscule in comparison, I think we, as Canadians, have a better understanding today of how our neighbours to the south must have felt on 9/11. Yes, my heart hurts but I also feel angry; outraged, in fact. The sanctity of our nation has been violated and fear has crept in.

Why did these things happen? Was it because our country dares to stand up for what is right and good? It’s too soon to say for sure and some even call it fear mongering, but it doesn’t seem far fetched to me to assume that these events are directly related to the ISIS (Islamic State of Iraq and Syria) call for attacks on Canadians made this past Sunday. In response to our country’s involvement in an alliance that has begun mobilizing to defeat ISIS, which has been committing widespread atrocities against Syrians and Iraqis in its attempt to impose a barbaric version of Islamic law in that region, we were told “You will not feel secure in your bedrooms.” Perhaps tonight, that is closer to the truth than ever before. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that Couture-Rouleau and Zehaf-Bibeau were personally directed by ISIS leaders to act as they did but neither do I think that these were simply unrelated acts of lone madmen.

Perhaps the question that looms largest in my mind today is what is it that drives people like Couture-Rouleau and Zehaf-Bibeau to such radical and violent acts. Were they so marginalized, so far on the fringes of society as to need to latch onto something like the global terrorist bandwagon to find purpose in life? What made them so angry or so cold blooded that they were willing to sacrifice their own lives for a foreign cause? Were they bullied, humiliated, or neglected during their formative years? Definitely something to think about.

 

High flying adventure

IMG_4409We crossed another item off my unwritten bucket list today. Last Christmas, there was a little gift box under the tree for Richard and I from our youngest son, Nate. When we opened it, we found a tiny toy helicopter and a note promising us a ride in a real one! I was absolutely thrilled! It may seem odd for a girl who spent most of her life being afraid of heights to want to fly in a helicopter but it’s something I’ve wanted to do for a long time. Nate’s original plan was that we would fly over when he was on one of his mountain climbing expeditions but with our crazy schedule this year and some recent developments in his own life, we weren’t able to make that work. Instead, he spent time visiting Dad in hospital in Edmonton today freeing us up for this afternoon’s adventure.

As we drove west of Calgary to the heli tours site near Canmore, the prairie and the foothills were bathed in sunshine and the fall colours shone. I could hardly wait to see them from above. The helicopter carried six passengers and when we were asked which brave soul would volunteer to sit in the co-pilot seat, I was ready. My hand shot up instantly! Soon I was seated in the glass bubble with the pilot at my side.

The flight was great! Take off was incredibly smooth and I literally didn’t feel a thing when the chopper set down. I likened it to riding on a feather! I’d been told how incredibly noisy helicopters are but with our earphones on, sound wasn’t a problem at all.

A strong wind kept us from flying into the mountains where turbulence might have been frightful. Instead, we skirted along the foothills enjoying views of the mountains to the west and the wide open prairie to the east. We followed the Bow River for a bit and saw herds of buffalo and wild horses below.

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Our sightseeing tour included a champagne picnic which we enjoyed on a grassy bluff overlooking the river with rapids churning below. We were sheltered from the wind and it was oh, so relaxing!

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So what’s next on my bucket list? I’m not sure but I do know that it includes another high flying adventure… a ride in a hot air balloon!

Porteau Cove

As we sat in an Edmonton waiting room on April 10th anticipating our first meeting with the surgeon who was to remove the cancerous tumour from my salivary gland, my cell phone rang. It was our four-year-old grandson, Sam.

“Can we go camping with you this summer?” he asked.

We spent the past week honouring that request at beautiful Porteau Cove Provincial Park, just a half hour drive from his North Vancouver home. At Sam’s age, I lived in an oceanfront house and the beach was my playground. I’ve always said that you can take the girl away from the ocean but you can’t take the salt out of her blood. This week at Porteau was good for my soul!

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From the morning mist hanging over Howe Sound to the sun sinking behind the ridge across the water, our days were spectacular. We watched seals bobbing in the water, bald eagles plunging from the sky to catch fish, and herons standing like sentinels at the low tide line every morning. We also watched the brazen little squirrel that we nicknamed Sticky Fingers attempting to steal food from our table!

Our days were filled with fun. With our two little pirates, Sam and Nate, we built a driftwood fort amongst the logs on the beach and searched for treasure (geocaches). We visited nearby Shannon Falls and toured the Britannia Mine Museum again. We even had front row seats for the beginning of the first Canadian Surfski Championships yesterday. We ended every day around a propane fire pit roasting marshmallows and eating s’mores. It lacked the crackle of a wood fire and the smell of smoke that usually goes along with camping, but the blue sky days and lack of rain have resulted in a fire ban along the coast and only propane is allowed.

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Now we’re back in the city where the next few days will be spent, in part, helping my 91-year-old father with banking and other issues related to my mother’s estate, but the memories made over the past week will be with us for a very long time!

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