A 90th Birthday was the highlight of our time away, but we managed a few mini road trips and were able to capture some interesting and beautiful fall life from another part of the country.
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life
ANN EDALL-ROBSON |
Recent travel for a fun family event, the trip was made by air. Jotting thoughts. Taking pictures and enjoying the somewhat road rutted ride, (that is a nice way of describing turbulence), we reached our destination. A 90th Birthday was the highlight of our time away, but we managed a few mini road trips and were able to capture some interesting and beautiful fall life from another part of the country. Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life
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Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life
A young man of barely 20 years goes to war. He is not drafted. He is not coerced. Nor is it peer pressure. For him, It was the right thing to do. Serve and protect. November 11th is not the only day we remember the sacrifices Dad, and thousands of others, made in a journey that changed the world and more importantly, changed these young lives, forever.
He was lucky. He came home. Occasionally, he would tell stories of his escapades. Humour, the good times. It's hard to imagine that there are good times in war, but those were the tales he shared. Not the hardship. Not the campaigns. Not the loss of life and friendships. Today, we remember our Dad, Lance-Corporal Iver K. (Bud) Edall, Third Canadian Field Park Company (Royal Canadian Engineers). We remember him, those he served with, and the many who have served before and since. Thank you, is not enough for what our servicemen and women endure to give us what we so blatantly take for granted. There has been 11 out of 25 days in January 2016 where we have experienced fog. So? You Say. Keep in mind that the old timers watched the sky and the weather continually. It told them everything from time, weather changes and even when there was going to be precipitation.
I consider my Dad to have been an old timer. He would say and do things that were odd when it came to weather, but there was hardly a time that he wasn’t right. He monitored the animal (wild and domestic), he watched the sky, and the sight of the geese flying south or north during their migration prompted another seasonal comment. It was from him that I learned about some of the neat things Mother Nature can tell us. Take all the fog we’ve been having. I diligently mark it on the calendar. I then move to the date on the calendar that is 90 days in the future, and record it again, including the month from when the fog actually happened. The prediction is that 90 days hence from any type of fog, there will be precipitation of some kind. Now you may think that this is a hokey old story, but, I have used this system for years and it has very rarely been wrong. I must admit, I do not count out the actual 90 days, I use the three month theory and then +/-a couple of days. Even doing it this lazy man’s way still produces the same results. So now that I have shared this little bit of weather forecasting history with you, make note that the month of January 2017 is going to be brutal for precipitation according to what the old timers would have predicted. Next time you have fog in your area, record it on your calendar and again 90 days out and see what happens. You might be able to plan your outdoor activities without the help of the T.V. meteorologist. Thanksgiving. A day on the calendar that should remind us of what we are thankful for. For me, it's a day that accentuates all of the things that I give thanks for, every day. My list of the people, places and things I appreciate could go on for pages. They all stem from where, how and who raised me. The lifestyle and upbringing I consider myself lucky to have been a part of. Here are some of my thankful thoughts. Each could be expounded upon in volumes, but, for today, a single sentence on each is a reminder for me to reflect on how fortunate I am.
What are your thankful memories? Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life It draws us to the window. Makes us look upward to the vast darkness of a star sparkled sky. Is the cause of romance. A guiding light. Illuminates the land. Generations depended on its silent glow to tell time and dictate the season. The moon. A creator of stories, of life and of memories. The title and the cover of my book Moon Rising are inspired by the Moon. I write about this awesome solar being in Hopeless Romantic, and again in Moonset. A golden orb in its own world. Set out on display for everyone to enjoy no matter where they live. The moon has been the topic of many songs, stories and poems. There are some that talk about it and many have the word in their titles. A thought provoking topic, guiding me to make a list of some of some of my favourite pieces of music with moon in the title. Many come with memories of dancing miles (and miles) to its tune. Many a reminder of loved ones getting up from the table during a meal to take a turn around the kitchen. Singing the words while they maneuvered around the chairs. Music and the moon. What a combination!
Do you have a list of favourite songs, stories, poems or movies that has Moon in the title? Share your memories with us. Ann Edall-Robson
Author, Photographer, Lover of Life Twenty-one thousand and nine hundred days old. Plus some days for the occasional leap year thrown in along the way. A number that size conjures up thoughts of relics and historic artifacts. To me, those would be compliments. There is a lot of history attached to anyone entering their seventh decade. Let's face it, one could be called worse. I remember thinking, in my much younger days, how people were old because they had grey hair, or no hair. They had kids and their kids had kids. Some were boring or doddering, and then there were those that were young and lively, like a spring chicken. And, the stories! I do remember the tales they told. How many of them were true or embellished? That I don’t know. But, they were good stories and most were worthy of remembering. Changes have been many in my short life time. Each making a difference in some way to how I live, how I look at life, and how I plan to embrace the years to come. Change, for the most part, is good. It keeps us on our toes. Keeps us thinking and doing. Less chance of complacency and ruts forming. I am thankful to have learned so much in the many days of my life. It pleases me no end that I am able to impart this knowledge on others. All the while, I continue my quest to fill my brain with way too much information! Sharing when I can and hoarding for when the time is right to expound on a given topic.
I find, at this precipice of the seventh decade, I am at a place where life is getting started. It’s a simmering pot of the previous six decades. Waiting to explode on the horizon with me holding the reins. What a ride it is going to be!
How do you feel about the age you are? The trailer’s unhooked and parked at the edge of the field in the trees. Horses have been unloaded, brushed down and are tied where they can relax until they're needed. The truck, backed up to the arena fence and tale-gate dropped. Ready to become front row seating for the early morning slack and afternoon performance.
Hamburgers and onions cooking on the grill at the outdoor concession stand. The smell waifs through the air along with the aroma of strong brewed coffee. All mingling with the odours of the rodeo grounds.
The announcer has done his sound check. The rodeo clown is finishing his face paint and running through his scheduled antics in his mind. Stock contractor trucks had pulled in the day before to unload the rough stock. Local ranchers supplying calves and steers have long since been and gone in the early morning hours. All the animals safely penned in corrals behind the arena. The performance starts with a grand entry. Introducing community leaders and organizers that have worked hard in preparation of this day. Recognition will be given to the oldest and youngest entrants, local celebrities such as a student who has won a scholarship, rodeo royalty from another town, the timers, the judges and pick up men. For those who came, performed their best, and maybe, just maybe, were lucky enough to take home a little bit of the prize money, the luck of the draw was on their side. At the end of the day when the trucks and trailers pull out of the rodeo grounds, heading home, there was a comfortable feeling of belonging. This was rodeo forty odd years ago. I didn’t have to go very far to find the recipe for Bread Pudding. The old fashioned kind that was a dessert main stay from kitchens of the 1900's. Easy to make from memory and then found in cookbooks written in that era. Mom’s Blue Ribbon Cook Book (circa 1940’s) is my go to book for these old time favourites. Instructions, as you can see, are interesting, to say the least. Bread Pudding (Steamed) - 2 cups bread crumbs, 1/2 cup molasses, 1 cup hot water poured on the bread, 1 cup flour, 1 cup raisins, 1/2 teaspoon Blue Ribbon soda, 1 tablespoon melted butter, 1 egg, Blue Ribbon spices to taste, milk if required. Steam 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Good and inexpensive. (Verbatim) Let’s fast forward to the 21’s Century. The talk of Bread Pudding of yore, isn’t that appetizing. It brings back memories, but that’s about all. The recipe we now use is rich, yummy, a special treat, and did I mention rich. Sinful goodness all by itself! It is definately not the bread pudding I remember.
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Download Recipe for Not Your Momma's Bread Pudding. Now for the topping. This is one of the best sauces I have made. A little goes a long way, but it compliments anything it is paired with.
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October 2023
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