MRB's Talking Fingers

 It was in 1961, that a song was written and then recorded by Frank Sinatra, which we all sang with great enthusiasm. We had finished three years of nursing training, we could either go back home or apply and accept a ‘paying job’ anywhere we wanted to be. Several classmates had already made wedding plans, and there were no more curfews. There were several who chose to further their education, travel, and work toward new goals. The majority of my classmates were now twenty-one years of age, and that was a big deal! Times have changed… we’ve had some great years with wonderful experiences, and we’ve had some ‘not-so-good’ years that we don’t want to repeat. We’ve had good jobs, been able to enjoy vacation times, and we’ve watched our families grow up. We’ve even been able to welcome and enjoy grandchildren… who are not ‘children’ any more, but mature young adults, stretching their ‘wings’ to get ready to fly. Life carries on! Where were you in 2000, the year a computer bug threatened to

  I’m not yet ready to write a blog about Christmas, but I’ll get there. This week, I’ve been thinking about trains, especially while watching so many ‘going’ and ‘coming’ through our valley. Trains have change in many ways in my lifetime, and this may bring back a few memories for you too. In the early 1940s, our family lived on a farm, and when it was necessary to travel 80 miles to the city, many times my Mom and I would take the train. The proprietor of our General Store, would sell us our tickets, and then put up ‘the flag’ so that the train engineer would know to stop the train to pick up more passengers. I loved the huge steam engine, and the recognizable whistle that we could hear on the farm. I didn’t love it so much on the winter trip in 1947, when the train got stuck in the huge snow drifts. I do remember that we had to sleep on the train one night, until the snow plow helped to get the train going again. When I had my first vacation, after graduating from Nursing School, I

    Most people here on The Hill know that we live in the Foothills of the Canadian Rockies. They understand that we have four distinctive seasons, represented by blooming trees and beds of bright flowers, bright cloudless skies and much warmer days, colorful tree leaves and food-producing gardens, and piles of snow and ice-covered rivers and lakes. So… why have I started this blog with that photo? We’re almost through the first week of December, supposedly getting ready for Christmas, and there isn’t a hint of snow in the photo. You are right… I took that photo from my favorite window. No wonder I’m having a problem getting into the Christmas Spirit. I’ve read many items on the Internet about the banning of Christmas traditional activity, which had caused me to recall our family traditions. During the growing-up years of our children, we developed an unusual list of traditions. My husband’s business activities were always at optimum during the warm weather, making it almost impossible

  In the mid-1980s, our two children were both completing their high school education and were trying to decide what they wanted to do as an adult. There were a few ideas, but the question was, “Would Dad and Mom agree?” Our son wanted to sell real estate, like his father did, but had to be convinced that he was too young. Where would he find a customer who would be willing to work with an 18-year old Realtor? Our independent daughter wanted to get a business degree, but not anywhere near home. She also wanted to attend a Christian university, to learn more about her spiritual journey, so applied to various colleges and decided that whoever accepted her first, gets her. She ended up in Indiana, then transferred to Washington for her last year, where she met the love of her life. Shortly after she started her first year, I received a letter from a friend, asking if I had heard about a little known U.S. law that would give Canadians the opportunity for dual citizenship. She thought it pr

  This blog may seem to be a repeat of things that many of us have experienced and thought about, but here I am… writing again now that I have some “extra” time on my hands. We had an experience a couple of days ago that got me thinking about all the “new” stuff we have learned to enjoy during our lifetime… a lifetime that may seem to be very long, but in the whole scheme of things it is less than an instant. I recently wrote about the progress of photographs from hand-tinting studio photos to personal digital photo treasures that can be stored on our computers. This week I’ve been thinking about the collection of ‘hardware’ that has been in my family’s possession in my lifetime, and in my personal collection. My parents had a treasured box camera that accommodated a spool of negative film that copied the intended photo in black and white. It then needed to be dropped off at the drug store in our town to be sent away to be developed and printed. There was great anticipation for the

  When I was writing my latest blog, sharing my passion for photos and photography, my mind was all over the place. Why am I so hooked on photos? Are others in my family just as 'hooked' on photos? Has my love of photos opened other avenues of interest for me? I decided that if I included everything that I wanted to say, the blog would be too long, and it would be boring. But it is hard to keep me quiet!!!!! For me, my photos are my version of a personal journal. I never kept a diary or wrote a journal, and writing blogs were something that I started here on NOTH a number of years ago. I enjoyed reading blogs written by others, and decided to give it a try. Having my parents' photo albums, well organized and carefully mounted on black pages and protected in hard cover albums, I am willing to share copies with relatives, some who had very few photos and live on the other side of the globe. I kept trying to figure out the easiest way to share a lot of photos. A couple of year

I have always had a passion for photographs. When I arrived in our family, my mother purchased a box camera. I still have quite a few photos of myself, starting as a babe in arms, and my growing up years on the farm. I don't have any siblings so I was the 'star'! When we moved to the city, and I was attending school, Mother used a Brownie camera, with the glass view finder, which I still have in my collection. The definition of a trove, according to Webster, is a collection or store of valuable or delightful things, and I certainly have a trove of photos. My first job, when I attended High School, was at a photo studio where I learned to hand-color photos, both studio wedding photos and portraits. It was a fascinating art and desired by customers because there was no such thing of colored film for cameras. My parents gave me a camera when I entered Nursing School so that I could create memories of three years of training, with new friends and of new experiences. During thos

  We've just celebrated Canadian Thanksgiving... and I even wrote a blog about it. It has been a busy time in our household... birthday celebrations, a bit of travel, thanksgiving with some of the family and missing the rest, plus the daily activities that hopefully keep us out of trouble.  October 22/20 didn't seem to fit in those categories. It has been said that "life is the sum total of all experiences...", and for me, it was a 'dousie'! I wasn't sure if I should laugh or cry, but it happened... and as I said in my previous blog, it is a good practice to look for things we are thankful for, even in the bad times. So here's my list for that day. I'm thankful for: ⦁ ... the lady who drove to our rural location to cut our hair on the driveway, not once but twice, during this pandemic. ⦁ ... the suggestion that I come to her small indoor salon in the city, located in a Seniors' apartment', now that the weather is looking more like winte

 It is the Canadian Thanksgiving Weekend in our area, and we had a delightful early dinner with family to accommodate working hours of family members. I've been reminded of a Thanksgiving Challenge that was given to me many years ago.  It was the spring of 1975, filled with many happy expectations and unplanned and unpleasant events. My mother succumbed to her rapid developing illness before her 65th birthday, and my husband was hospitalized because of an propane explosion at our new home under construction on our acreage. On one occasions, when sitting with my husband in the hospital, our pastor came for a visit. In our conversation, he suggested that I could make a list of all the things that happened that month which  I was thankful for. I didn't take the suggestion seriously and thought that he had no idea of what we were going through. I tried to dismiss the suggestion but it kept coming back to my mind. I had time to write something down when hubby was resting ... it woul

When was the last time that you had a real good, noisy “belly” laugh? For the ladies, that may be a bit of a stretch, so call it something else. Call it uncontrolled laughter, that keeps sneaking back to your head, and then starts all over again. We had a bunch of at the 55th Class Reunion of my nursing class. Old 'nursing' stories are still funny... if we have the nerve to tell them to our 'non-nursing' friends. I love to have fun, help put a smile on someone’s face, and at times, just be silly! There are a few things on my page where my “personality” has leaked out. But I must ask, “Who thinks that the entertainment of today is better than “the good old days”? There were 'comics' in our much younger days who didn’t have to say anything, and we would laugh. Their facial expressions were priceless. Some that come to mind are Tim Conway, Red Skelton, Lucille Ball, Bob Hope, and Lily Tomlin. I remember standing with school friends at the window of the local lumber

I'm still finding boxes of 'stuff' that I've forgotten that I still have. I have to admit that I have been distracted quite often, when started to sift through a discovered box. When the family tells me that I never throw anything out, I think they are right at least part of the time. One box was very heavy... no wonder it hasn't been moved in years. It is filled with newspapers and magazines. The Star Weekly was known for the photos included in their stories, and I have the issue in honor of Winston Churchill, at the time of his death. I have a copy of a British magazine, with photos of the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. There are newspapers with headlines of John Kennedy's assassination, the release of the Iranian hostages, the shooting of Ronald Reagan, and the crash of Apollo 13. Then there are early issues of PEOPLE magazine, about 10 year-end issues, a special edition on Michael Jackson, the wedding of Charles & Diana's Wedding... I could go on

I thought I would have my computer back home by now, but not quite. The new battery that was installed lasted about 12 minutes!!!!! The company has to get their supplier to send another one... hopefully one that will work longer. I was in the city yesterday to enjoy a "Birthday Celebration" with three other ladies. It was a "had my birthday", "having my birthday", and "going to have my birthday"! It was a lot of fun to enjoy a LONG lunch in a great restaurant. By the time I got back home, I was ready for a nap. Today was occupied with things that didn't get done the day before. I have decided to share something that I created almost 8 years ago, containing some of my first Blogs that I posted on NOTH, and a lot of other things. If you find one posting entitled "How Can You Tell If It's Real", it is a personal talk that I shared at a number of Women's Club meetings. I have almost forgotten that I did some public speaking. The

I don't know about you, but I'm getting so tired of political rancor in all of our countries, and the information, varified or speculated, about the virus, the economy, the society, the rights of everyone, and whatever else the media thinks is important. Thank goodness there are spots on the internet where we can read and celebrate with people who think "outside of the box" and show kindness and empathy in unexpected ways. The sacrifice and service from the medical profession, the police and firefighters, the teachers, and the farmers, is beyond my comprehension, even during the fault-finding and bitterness that has crept in when we haven't been watching. On a personal note, what can I do in a positive way, to express what is important to me, and still be an encourager, a helper, and a friend to those who 'cross my path'... in the neighborhood, in town, or on the Internet? I'm classed as 'old', even though I don't want to admit it, and some

It has been quite a week… and it seems that my computer took control of much of my time. Not really, but knowing that I’m always anxious to learn (or ‘relearn’) something on my computer, this was a new experience. I’ve been hooked on computer technology since the early 1980s. To describe my present computer, which I purchased almost two years ago, it will help to understand the event. It is a 15" HP computer that is a tablet with a full keyboard that is attached with magnets; my preference now that my office has changed size from a full basement suite, to my favorite chair near the large window where I can enjoy the view of our 'green valley’. This week, when I checked my messages and emails first thing in the morning, I noticed that the computer screen had come out of the frame at the left lower area and it seemed somewhat warped. Why? I called the company who sold the computer to me and described the situation. I was told to turn off the computer and not use it until I could

The experience that I had today confirmed that I’ve been having too much spare time with my computer, while sitting in my favorite chair near my favorite window. There are so many things that I enjoy with my computer, and I love to learn new things. I’ve renewed my interest in restoring vintage photographs, but the software that I used many years ago was not made for Windows 10, so I’ve been trying all sorts of software, especially the ones that are “affordable” for me. I’ve had time to do a lot of reading about computers and photographs, and trying to organize the hundreds of photographs and graphics that I have on my computer and tablet. All of this activity seemed to have made my computer run much slower. I also received several “error” messages that there were files missing or unavailable that were necessary for the smooth operation of a software. It was time for me to have my computer serviced by my favorite service company… Cloudeight Direct Computer Care. If that sounds familiar

With all the reading that I’ve been doing this past few weeks, I have been tempted to revert back to ‘the way things were’ before the global endemic has tried to stop us in our tracks. There was always some place that I wanted to go, someone to visit, do some travelling, go shopping, etc.  The media tells us to ‘carry on’ and follow the rules, don’t worry, we’ll get through this, or they tell us that it’s going to get worse, no matter what we do. I don’t want to hear the news these days; who are we supposed to believe. One posting that sticks in my mind is this question… ‘Do you consider the present global situation to be a ‘Time Out’, intended to give us time to re-assess our life’s journey? I haven’t thought much about ‘time- outs’ since our family are all adults. In my generation, I don’t remember any time-outs, but I do remember the occasional trip to the shed, to receive a dose of corporal punishment. It was never a nice experience, but it left an indelible impression on my memo

You may not believe this, but you haven’t heard from me this past month because I couldn’t come up with a topic that would be even slightly interesting in a blog. We’ve been staying close to home these days, except for necessary trips to town for groceries and medical appointments. Our favorite dining spots have been closed, except for curbside service, and the food would be cold before we got back home. A treat in town would be a drive-thru for donuts or hamburgers, but eating a meal in our vehicle can get messy. Back home, my husband and I have different “comfort” zones, but both of us have decided that we have no time to be bored. There are too many things that still grab our attention. He spends hours every day in his shop… cleaning, repairing, organizing and building a variety of items in his shop. Living in a rural area gave him space to build a separate building, giving him space to accommodate his two hobbies… vintage telephones and tractors. We’ve been here so many years tha

I have received some wonderful private messages from friends here on The Hill, and other sources. I thought I was giving everyone a “break”, because I’ve been known to be an adamant and frequent user of words, both in live conversations, text messages, emails, and blogs. However, the messages are checking to see if all is well at our patch of land, has our ‘isolation’ become a ‘seclusion’, or have I been distracted by more interesting activities. Well, here comes a ‘deluge’ of words that I’ve been saving up! According to the media, public opinion, and assumed expert advice, my husband and I are in the most vulnerable age group, so we began our voluntary personal isolation in early March, and thankful that we are still able to enjoy rural living. My husband spends many hours each day in his shop… fixing, painting, sorting, rearranging, and sometimes, trashing long preserved items. One never knows when the saved items would be just what is needed, saving a trip to town. He also can have

Father’s Day is this weekend … we are happy that our son and his wife are bringing both families together to honor Dads, present and absent, as an expression by the families. We will miss those who are not able to be with us, but know that their hearts will be here. My father was the first-born in his family, arriving in the winter of 1906.  The family tragedies in the first few years of his life, resulting in a major move to another country, contributed to his early maturity and diligence in his commitment to given responsibilities. He had little formal education, and in his late teens, became a cattle-driver in the Cypress Hills.     I was his favorite child… and his only child, arriving in his 34th year. He was my personal entertainer and playmate when we lived on the farm. He made sure that I learned about the important things in life, and supported my mom in my pursuit of music. Dad was a “people” person, and preferred to be known as ‘Gus’, and not by Mr. He learned to b