Author Archives: kathyseeking

I grew up in the city, had some adventures and education and through some pretty cool turns of events ended up on a ranch near a small town with my husband, three children and many animals. I am a minister by training but currently my life revolves around our ranch and the people here. I feel comfortable talking about my inner world, my observations about the world, and what I find meaningful. I am not so comfortable revealing how the details of life get out of hand. For example, I ponder "How does my kitchen get this messy?" and "Can I post this picture where I look like this?" I have areas where I do image management but my goal with my blog is to be as real as possible, with the hope that it connects to others and maybe we can all feel less alone in our struggles and challenges and our everyday joys.

Methods

While in Toronto a few weeks ago I had a chance for some writing time and I was inspired by learning that the International Women’s Day theme for this year was “Empower, Inspire and Elevate.” That got me thinking about my Dad. I wrote a lot. I forgot about it once life at home got rolling until last night when we were with friends, the conversation reminded me I had this almost finished blog waiting for some attention. Here goes……

When I was about 7 my family had the chance to buy some untouched lakefront property. It was140 miles from our house and available for $500. That land changed our families life. We worked together and with friends to clear, shape and build that acre and make for ourself a summer haven. Roads and power became available over time. 99% of my summer memories happened there. When we were teenagers my Dad started something. I don’t know where he got the idea. He was an educator so maybe he just thought like this. However, it seems to me he assessed that he had two issues in front of him. The first is that at the end of the day our waterfront needed to be secure for whatever a night on a big lake might bring. He also had his youngest three daughters around all the time and he had hopes for us. So he created a “position” with a title, and the three of us took turns assuming the role. My memory is that for some days at a time one of us was designated, “water front supervisor.” It was our duty to ensure that as night fell all was well at the lake front, that the canoe was far enough removed from the waters edge, that the boat was up on the trailer. The waterfront supervisor made sure the skis and lifejackets were properly put away, that there were no towels or clothing waiting to be caught by a wind or wave. The supervisor position did not mean that we had to do it all, but we had to enlist help if things needed to be done and ensure that all was ship shape for the night. This role encouraged responsibility and skills in assessment, delegating and leadership. There was a subtle pride in being entrusted with a role that held an important title. We all lived up to it. As an adult I look back at this and think, “my Dad was empowering me.”

I often have thought about a strategy my Dad had when I was much younger. He taught us that if someone was bugging us and wouldn’t stop we should tell them “my Daddy says, if I say quit it, I mean QUIT IT.” As an adult looking back on this line that my Dad taught me I feel mixed. Ideally, as a girl child I would not have had to pull my Dad’s presence into the exchange to get a little respect. However, my Dad knew things about the world that we did not. I often think that maybe our Dad was trying to protect us when he couldn’t be near every second. We could invoke his name but in a way that gave authority to “when I say….I mean….” I think it worked. He taught me that my voice mattered.

Recently I was helping one of my people get cardiac testing done. At the hospital I met a nurse who knew my Dad back in his educator days. She told me that Dad played a role in her life when in her high school years she found herself pregnant. The mores of the time meant she was encouraged to drop out and have her baby. There was a meeting about this. My Dad was present. She gave me a sense that at this meeting it was my Dad’s words that helped turned the tide towards her being able to stay in school, go on to win scholar awards and become a specialized nurse. She remembers Dad saying this, “I have daughters her age and I believe she can do this.” My Dad, a white man, standing a handsome 6ft 6inches tall, with a title that included the word “superintendent”, held a lot of authority at that meeting. He used it to add power to that young woman.

That reminds me of another “I believe” moment with him. When I was in grade six I carried extra weight that was of concern to our doctor. He advised that my sister and I go see a dietician. We were a bit chubby but really mostly healthy. I remember I weighed 127 pounds. One terrible day, after a weigh in at the dietician I was found to have gained more than 4 pounds. My Dad found me in the garage crying when he got home from work. I remember the shame I I was drowning in as I pondered the peanut butter and butter in soda cracker sandwiches I had been over indulging in. That night at supper I am not sure how it came up but Dad proclaimed at the table, “I believe that Kathy is going to get this under control.” Maybe my red tear stained face was being acknowledged. I don’t know. I often wonder how Dad’s words have played into my ability to keep things within a certain range. Its been tricky. For whatever role Dad’s “I believe……” statement of confidence played I am very grateful.

I am noticing through all these anecdotes the role to be played by those who have power. The willingness to share power shows itself in different ways. Helping others to see what they are capable of is one thing. Picture an evening at the cabin and Dad saying, “who is water front supervisor tonight?” Thirteen year old Kathy replies, “I am Dad.”

Putting powerful words into each others vocabulary is another, such as “when I say quit it, I mean quit it!”

Taking public stances advocating for people to be given a chance, to prove themselves, is another way of lending our power (I notice now that when Dad gave that teenage girl his vote of confidence, the way he did it, he gave us girls a compliment too. He essentially said, “I have seen what girls this age are capable of.” )

People with power have opportunity to address shame, such a debilitating force that can be put in its place. I received that gift when my Dad didn’t say the following words but essentially said this, “Kathy loves peanut butter on crackers and don’t we all go crazy for stuff at times, pffft, that’s just one part of her story, she is so much more than that.”

My Dad was far far far from perfect. He was really a jerk at times, so am I. However he had some core wisdom that he lived from. He saw people where they were at and he used his power to build power in others (not perfectly or always consistently but it was his instinct to empower. He was better for it. It did not cost him. The world was better for it. And the world continues to be. I am thinking especially of my three sisters when I say this. They are using the power they have been vested with, from our childhood, their work and study. They are empowering children and adults in so many important ways. They each shine very bright and my Dad would be so delighted to watch it unfold.

I wonder if my Mom took this picture, if so, it subtly includes four generations of women gathered at our family table. I am in the suspenders. My great grandma, sitting in Mom’s usual chair, was born in 1893, there is alot of herstory in this picture.

My Dad at his spot at the table, here is where he sat when he delivered his message to me.

Dad with gloves on, likely working to tame the waterfront. We kept our boat trailer in the water and cranked the boat up every night after finding our boat a long ways from home one morning after a major overnight storm. Dad had naturally curly hair but not this curly. He had a perm here, something he did for his role in Summer Players musical “Oliver.”

Dad and I at my graduation from Queen’s Theological College in 1996. A proud moment. Dad had been diagnosed with frontal lobe brain disease, a form of dementia a few months before this.

With the lake behind us an impromptu family picture in about 1984. Everyday moments made for an empowering childhood. There is so much to be thankful about.

Boil the kettle……

If you were coming over for a visit we would sit down with our mugs and tell each other a few of our stories. Here are a few stories arising from the pictures I have.

Since Christmas I have been obsessed with mugs more than I already was. I have realized what makes a mug perfect for me and I am on the hunt. This one is not perfect but close.

One day this week Ron was in the house briefly, after leaving he popped right back in and said, “there’s a house going down the road!!!” Morgan and Russ were near. We were all enthused. I rushed to the west door to get this picture. It stirred up the incredible excitement we felt when it was our house coming down the road and prompted a little reminiscing. I do not envy the homeowners the myriad details that now unfold before they can move in but its really special to remember how it was for us.

That same day Morgan and I were enroute to town when we saw our neighbor putting some miles on this young horse getting it ready for a big event. It struck me as such a beautiful sight. It made me think of older times. We got ahead of him then stopped and did a little video. Curt stopped when he caught up to us and we had a quick chat.

It was not my idea to apply my glasses to Coffee’s face. However, she does look fetching (pun intended.) Russ and I have had alot of conversations about my glasses this week.

We started a new St. Patrick’s tradition this year, we had pub night in our own house. It was alot of fun. I love an excuse to make nachos.

Morgan got his proof sheet back from his grad photos. I also found this picture of my Dad while working on a project. I am very fascinated by genetics. I find it comforting to see traits being passed down. I put these side by side to see what I could see. I think there is a similarity.

I came across this cowboy rabbit picture earlier this year. Its so cute. We have a room in our house named after a rabbit, thats a bit of a long story, but it meant this picture had to come home with me. Our travels have led us to find a couple others. While in Regina this week I found the crocheted dancing rabbit wearing Bar MW yellow. I brought it home. Her name is Laci.

Bingo’s death has been a hard pill to swallow but we are doing okay, mostly, some of us. Our house is alot quieter. I am not sure I realized what a big presence Bingo dog had. There is way less fighting now, really almost none and honestly thats nice. However I think we all believe her crazy passionate cowdog spirit was worth the noise. Anyways…..we have been comforted this week. A condolence card in the mail, a homemade key fob, and what I call “condolence cookies” have all come our way. People have been so kind with so many words of understanding and concern for us. It seems pet loss is something many of us really understand deeply.

Saturday morning Russell’s whole life plan got turned upside down when a calf was discovered in the calving herd. That first calf arrived about three weeks early. Everything about this was tricky except for the fact that the calf was strong and therefore it made it. When Russ and I went back to check on it a few hours after birth Russ thought he spotted it from a distance, then corrected himself, “that calf is a mineral tub.” A few seconds later, “that mineral tub is moving!”, we had in fact not found the calf we were looking for, we had found a second one. Here it is.

We kept looking for our cow “Pray” and her calf and we found them. Pray was agitated, as she had been when first discovered, there was not much we could do for that calf on the open prairie, its a great thing that it was strong. Why do calves come three weeks early you ask? Because of a rogue bull that must have slipped into our cow pasture for a little fun. We had no idea of this visitor and to expect early calves. We are hoping this doesn’t continue. Just how busy was that bull? It remains to be seen but there were no further calves born today.

Russ spent the rest of yesterday moving snow out of the calving yard so that it could be usable for the herd, hauling a load of bedding and a load of feed and cleaning off the dugout. As a result he missed an old friends’ funeral. As the day wound down a little help from our neighbor Ty allowed us to get the herd gathered up and moved across the road into the pasture around the calving yard. My job was to park sideways across the road and then be a presence in the ditch. I was so relieved when that first cow out the gate didn’t think the best plan was to challenge me and head west to home. She saw the open gate across the road and led the way. Thank you cow!

The job is completed.

I took this next picture for my sister who I was texting with when the guys came in for supper tonight. You might notice that Morgan has had a haircut since the last counter picture. Also, Russ looks relaxed and happy. I believe this is in part because he and Morgan had a pretty outrageously fun time working together today. I was part of it for a while. These two are really something. The bigger picture is that last week Russ got rammed into the end of a gate that our horse “Mickey” abruptly forced his way through. With his hood up and peripheral vision blocked Russ didn’t see it coming. He has been in terrible pain all week, with medicine giving little relief. He finally went to the doctor. Xrays revealed no obvious concerns, he had become convinced he had a broken rib, but apparently not. You would never guess there is anything amiss in this photo. Its the healing power of humor.

Once calving starts in earnest it can be a real whirlwind around here. I have some serious goals around being organized and ready for that. There is a fair bit to do. Hopefully we end up getting a few more weeks before its go time.

My Lifejacket

A month ago I made a post outlining my concern with Trump. I concluded it by stating my strategy that I was going to get tighter with Jesus and stay that way. In the comments I was moved to get specific about what that might look like. I put into writing what I figured I needed to do. I committed to read a chapter of the gospels every day, until I had them memorized or the turmoil south of us had passed, which ever came first. I have mostly made good on that promise to myself, I have missed days but I am working at it. Its funny what you notice when you read with different eyes. For instance I knew that Jesus and his Mom and Dad had to flee to Egypt when he was very small, to avoid being found and killed by Herod the ruler of the day. However something never really hit me until I read it while also pondering what was happening to immigrants in the USA. It hit me, “Jesus was a refugee!” He was received by Egyptians as a human fleeing threat to his life. We say that having been human Jesus knows what humanity faces, this story adds texture to that and adds strength to the Christian mandate to treat the refugee, the immigrant with dignity. There is a lot percolating in me as a result of my reading.

This morning I grabbed coffee and found myself thinking as I picked up my Bible, “why am I doing this?” The notion that came to me was “because this is putting on your lifejacket.” That makes sense for me. I am finding the daily onslaught of developments dizzying. I don’t know enough to make good replies to what I see on social media, I don’t know how I can make a difference. Things seem so significant, with so much potential for harm near and far, it feels imperative to attempt to make a positive difference, and certainly I need to not drown in it all. I pondered then that my readings serve as a lifejacket for me when they help me stay clear eyed about what matters, what is true and right. Staying clear about that, speaking from that, will keep me from starting to go under. Here is an example of how that worked one morning recently. I read the part of Matthew where Jesus says “it is easier for a camel to go throught the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven.” I have preached on this passage many times. There is much that could be said, but in the context of getting the wisdom that is going to keep me afloat, there was a clear message. It goes something like this, “Kathy, first of all, you are a privileged white person, you see things through that lens, don’t think otherwise. And….. Be careful. Be wise. Be unselfish. Secondly, do not trust anything that creates harm for some so that others can be rich. Do not trust it. It is not of God.”

That” lifejacket” tells me I am right to be concerned when the richest men in the world sit closest to the incoming president at his inauguration, and when I hear that their wealth has increased immeasurably since the election, I am right to be suspicious, and when I refuse to give my allegiance to a way of life that blesses all this, I can feel justified. Holy shit, why do these thoughts feel so radical to say out loud?

One Week In

I have read in several places lately that to be silent when harm is unfolding is to be complicit in the harm. That’s hard. I am not someone who likes to ruffle feathers. I am not someone who wants anyone to think badly about me. There is a part of me that thinks its time though. Recent events in the United States have me deeply uncomfortable because I believe that something very nefarious and therefore very harmful is now underway. I have been following Trump and his actions closely for almost ten years. As a result I could speak long about what I have been processing. I will not. There is actually so much from the last week that I am wrestling with.

Trump was elected, by his own admission, because the regular people of the U.S. need life to be more affordable. He promised to address this on day one, with lower eggs prices and lower gas prices. One week in he has not done anything to effect these changes, in lengthy speeches he has given he has not spoken of any plan, actually, I understand he has not mentioned these things at all. Maybe that will yet come. However, what he did do on day one is revoke price protections on prescription drugs. Low income people who until then had a $35 limit on insulin costs now must suddenly absorb costs for this same drug that are several hundred dollars a month. There was a time in our married life when money was extremely tight, a constant source of stress. Despite our best efforts and conservative lifestyle we had no flex. The moments that seem cemented in my memory include standing at the teller at the bank, cashing in a $1000 RRSP so that we could take the kids on a week long camping trip, there was no other way to fund it and it was June, a slower time, when maybe we could squeak out some time away with Russ. It was an embarassing moment at the bank wicket. Admittedly we were lucky that a prior time in our life had allowed some RRSSPs to be a cushion for us. In those same days I didn’t have internet banking and our balance was not always readily available or something I was organized to always know. There were so many times I stood at the grocery store cashier with fear that the transaction would be denied. That is what I call up in my mind when I think about people all over the U.S. who will somehow have to come up with extra money now. How will they do that? What was gained by taking off these caps? Something tells me it appeased donors from the pharmaceutical industry. It certainly will do nothing to make life more affordable for the everyday person. I find myself wondering how this development is feeling to Moms with kids, the group I most relate to.

Russ showed me a post this week that cited all the incredible accomplishments of Trump in the first week. It was mind boggling that some would frame these things as progress and our Canadian neighbors would see fit to share it. One of the things was that he had “moved to take control of Greenland and the Panama Canal.” When you move to take control of another country it is about war. For what reason would any country lay down and give up and hand over their sovereignty to Donald Trump, his administration and the U.S.? I know nothing about military strategy but my guts tell me that a concerted effort by the US to take over Greenland means a new war. Who wants to be in the middle of a war? How can this be deemed progress? Later on in that same post it was celebrated that Trump had “secured one trillion dollars of Saudi Arabian support for the United States.” My first reaction was, “as if they will provide support without strings attached.” But I thought I should see what the details actually were. When I looked up what had been asked and promised it is that 800 billion dollars will be invested over four years. That doesn’t sound quite as iffy, investment sounds better than what seemed like a donation. But seriously, if it takes wangling by Trump to get that “support”, what is Saudi Arabia getting out of it? What strings are attached? What are the American people handing over without knowing it? In my mind neither of these things are items to brag about, not if you value peace and have trust in the power of the USA to forge their way without indebtedness to a foreign nation.

I got into a bit of a testy conversation about Trump this week, it had me asking, “what would Trump have to do to cause you to withdraw your support for him?” The thinking behind my question was that “surely you have a line that you draw somewhere, not everything is acceptable.” Perhaps I am intolerant but my line was crossed back in the early days when he showed himself to be someone who lies. “They’re eating the cats, they’re eating the dogs” is a recent example but it is not hard to find a multitude of stories of people who were cheated by him and fact checkers from his first presidential term note more than 30,000 of his lies are in the public record. I think about it like this, in our homes when people lie to one another it destablilizes trust. When trust is reduced we hesitate to take risks with one another, like we don’t share with one another what makes us vulnerable. When we don’t take relational risks we can’t strengthen bonds and nourish the roots of our relationships. With fragile bonds and shallow roots our relationships can’t do for us what we need them to do, we suffer and our society with it. So I have resisted Trump. I can’t stand the thought that lying has been normalized. There is more that I am very troubled by but that’s enough for now.

It seems time to make as clear a statement as I can, about what I am thinking and why. I want it to be my own words, not a sassy meme. I want to make it entirely clear that if you are worried about how life is going to be over the next four years I am too. I also want to say that it is my intention to walk lockstep with Jesus, more now than ever. In the midst of the confusion of conflicting values and priorities, with mixed messages and double standards everywhere, I will be holding myself to his example. He looked at people with eyes of compassion and mercy, he readily saw and spoke to the abuse of power, he affirmed the humanity and the worth of all he met. And there is more. So much more. His way is my hope.

A Dramatic Day

(This post was started 10 days ago, references to time might be a bit confusing.)

Yesterday was a big one. A big day. We were moving cows again. Two herds that had been moved from their summer spots to a shared fall pasture were on their way home to their winter home. It was a big group and we had a good sized crew working with us.

As the day started for me I had a bit of ease. I puttered around the kitchen, made some to-go breakfasts for the start up crew, drank some coffee and put alot of thought to my lists for the day. Before the work began in earnest I had the feeling that I wanted to go back to bed and pray. That is not exactly usual for me. I have struggled with prayer my whole life. Lately I think about this, if prayer is about nurturing a relationship with God than I should actually talk to God like a friend, not like someone I am trying to convince to do something. So I find myself pondering my longings and I talk to God about that. On chase days I have so many worries that brew below the surface. My main worry is that someone will get hurt. I also want for people to have a good time and to not suffer. Between the horses, cows, weather and other things there are so many factors that influence every chase day. So I talked to God about my longing for safety. However, in those moments I had to admit to myself that growth comes through challenge, we are not promised a rose garden and I wondered why I and we should be spared trouble when others suffer so greatly. It got a bit serious. I had to back up my request and just say, whatever goes down today God, my desire is that you are walking with us.

It was a day that had its tricky moments but I believe my prayer was heard.

As the kitchen boss I was helped in two big ways. The first is that Friday night Russ and Morgan made a triple batch of chili. Russ thought that would feed 24 people but I knew better so lunch was well along but not totally done when the chili was in the fridge the night before. Russ is very particular about chili, has taken pride in showing Morgan how to make it and I think was genuinely happy to give me support. So the kitchen was a bit of a busy place Friday as I cooked supper while they did their thing. No cross words were heard but I was having a bit of an issue with my turf being shared. I did appreciate all that food ready for the next day I’ll tell you.

The other huge thing is that I had a hard working helper. My 2nd cousin Lisa arrived Friday from Regina. I always knew I was a family person but it becomes clearer in the moments like this, as we worked side by side I said, “Lisa, what would our Grandmas think if they could see us now?” Our grandmas were sisters and we agreed they would delight in the connection that remains after all the years. Lisa stepped in to help whereever she detected a hand was needed. Her presence eased the drama that was stirred up in me as Saturday unfolded.

The first drama was what many readers will already be aware of, that one of our crew was bucked off and his horse escaped. I sense the western nature of how all that unfolded would make a good blog post of its own. I know few details except Morgan tried his hardest to run that horse down, at one point Morgan was on the ground and a part of his tack, the breast strap got broken. I became aware of it all when Russell called. He asked me to sit down immediately and make a facebook post and tag everyone we know, alerting folks to the presence of a run away horse in the midst of a very foggy morning.

As I sat and did this posting Lisa worked away in the kitchen keeping the chicken stew preparations going, monitoring bread baking and just basically being a whole extra brain on the job when mine was absent. I needed that. Once the post was made there was really nothing that we could do to help that situation so we buckled down to work. It was shortly after this that Gina called. She was in a bit of trouble. She had been at an audition outside of Toronto, she had borrowed our friends’ car to get there, she was at a gas station enroute home, reporting in that the car wouldn’t start. From one perpsective this was not a dramatic situation, noone was hurt, there was no damage that was of Gina’s doing, she had already had the audition and was not short of time to get anywhere. But somehow, it held so much drama. There was the, “my kids needs me and I am 2500km away from her” inner tension in me. There was the dawning realization in Gina that her mother and father had no magic solution to get her out of this. There was that terribly uncomfortable dynamic that Gina was driving a borrowed car, making a breakdown even more awkward than it already is. There was the added dimension that I couldn’t stop what I was doing, not really, I had a whole crew of people to feed and not keep waiting. I was therefore scanning my packing list as we talked, collecting the various things we need and making a start at being ready to roll out. However, Gina was getting more upset not less, as the difficulty of the situation became clearer and clearer. She was not able to get ahold of our friends to get their advice or wishes for what to do with the car. I was brainstorming all the people we knew in Toronto that might be able to help. We were assessing their locations in proximity to her. We were discussing the merit of her calling an old boyfriend for help. Her phone battery was a little low and we figured out that Uber and Lyft didn’t cover where she was. It was starting to feel overwhelming. Then Lisa (who helps administer a bussing company in Regina) had a thought, she suggested Gina do a certain something with the gear shift and voila, the car started immediately. Gina’s response was like it was Christmas all over again, she declared that Lisa is her hero of the day. What a wave of relief swept through our call. Before hanging up so that we could get back to work we learned that the horse stunt work company that had seen Gina do her stuff were very happy, and spoke like her involvement in their event next May is a forgone conclusion. They also invited her back to ride horses anytime. Just a bit of drama had unfolded! Gina forged alot of new territory yesterday and we along with her.

Russ called to report that the crew was doing well, moving fast and

Well, this is as far as I got before I had to stop and 10 days later I am not sure what more I was going to say about that day. Bear with me if things are a bit vague.

Lisa and I got lunch delivered pretty much perfectly on time, although the crew, despite the earlier shenanigans, was running early. We arrived to find a very chilled crew. The earlier fog, with the moisture it brought, in combination with the lack of promised sun and high wind blowing right against everyone made things quite uncomfortable. Our menu was appreciated. It was part way through serving that we realized the cost of getting interrupted by Gina’s phone call. I had not finished counting and packing the cups we needed for both coffee and chili. We had lots, but not enough. When that dawned on us we had a saving grace. Russell’s chili is very thick, that is part of what defines it, he told Lisa that if I tried to add water to it in the morning it was her job to stop me. I didn’t even try or think about it! That thick chili was served directly onto the plates we passed out for holding cups and spoons and bread and stuff. It got cold fast but it was served and there were cups for coffee.

Cows tend to move well when moving into the wind, it refreshes them I think, and so the crew had the cows home and into the gate well before sunset. Lisa and I had to hustle to get supper ready and some extra silliness ready. It was the tenth birthday of our dogs Bingo and Maddie and coming up in a week was Coffee’s birthday. Russell had insisted we have a celebration. We had bought decorations, Lisa made ground beef cupcakes for the dogs and decorated them with mashed potatoes, bacon bits and cheese sticks. We sang them happy birthday, crowned them as birthday princesses and ate cake while they ate their cupcakes. It was fun! Those dogs are a real source of light in our days, it felt great to celebrate them.

As we ate there were stories shared of the day. Some details about the buck off got a little clearer, the fact that the rider was very sore also got clearer. Through the week details have been shared so that I understand even better what happened. Russell is convinced that a cougar or something like it was in the swamp beside the road. Russ says they smell strong and the horses detected it. Gary’s horse went absolutely crazy after sensing it, the “buck off” was among the most spectacular seen at our ranch. The horse then charged into the herd, straight into a cow which knocked another rider off her horse. She was okay. Russell’s horse was spooked but recovered, Russ did not get bucked off. After running what looks like 12 or more miles the horse was cornered and held at the feedlot north of the Martens ranch near Alameda. Paige held it there until Gary and Mike Hubbard could get there and Gary was able to get near and secure it. Gary saddled it later and rejoined the crew, the horse did not look very tired. Incredible.

It was a hard day. My initial hope to have God walk with us through all it held……well….how do you measure whether such a prayer was answered or not? There was drama, there was injury, there was stress. But we make the choice to put ourselves in challenging and potentially dangerous situations, in situations where no outcome is guaranteed. My faith tells me that God is near. I see it. It was in the instinct to give that was brought to life in so many people, in my friend Tanya who lent Gina the car, Lisa giving me her whole weekend to lend a hand, the Co-op grocery clerk I didn’t know who asked me while I was shopping after lunch, if the horse had been found. She told me she had used part of her lunch break to go look for it, “I have horses” she said to explain her care for a situation that didn’t affect her life at all. The instinct to give was in the whole crew who suffered through cold and wind for us and our cows. Thats humbling. There were so many who shared info about the stray horses location and Paige’s time and energy given to protect the horse and ease our challenge. Its all evidence of God’s Spirit on the loose, as fast and far reaching as that horse. But there is more, I had alot to hold onto that day, alot of needs to meet, alot to be calm for, and I was. It was in part because of the great help I had and in part because I was calm. I was calm for a reason that I can’t explain. I have to go with “I was not alone.”

So anyways, from the bad smell of a cougar to pondering about prayer. I am done writing. It was quite a day. Here are pictures you might enjoy.

Laurie riding in the early morning fog.

David and Pat……the only cowboys in sight…..that I can see.

Jen and Cinder……a happy reunion of rider and horse.

I would love to know what both Laurie and Braylee were thinking in this moment.

The sun came out for a while after lunch. There are some bright smiles here too as Braylee and Lacee keep pushing ahead with the herd.

Having walked about 18 miles the herd is within steps of the gate here.

And in they go. This is a cool sight from our living room windows.

This is Lisa in the background. It is the only picture I have of her from the weekend. This fact does not honor the amount of support she provided. I took this picture to send to Braylee’s pal, our girl Gina.

A close-up of the dogs birthday cupcake.

Birthday cake for the humans.

Russ helped the dogs blow out their candles.

Bingo was quite intrigued.

The scene at lunch.

Having taken a chilling turn watching over the herd while most of the cowboys were getting their lunch, Jim rides in to camp.

Miles and I at the lunch station.

Coffee was essential on this chilly day. Bill smiled readily for the picture.

Everyone has been enjoying spending more time on the trail with Pat’s daughter Emory. She is doing great.

Hugs have the added benefit of sharing warmth. Its so great to see the friendships on the trail.

Pat and Jen are still smiling despite the weather conditions.

With no time to spare I was blowing up balloons and moving chairs around at the same time, prepping for the supper scene. I had no idea where I was going to put these balloons in the absence of helium. I was quite thrilled with myself when I found a spot for them in the tree (only one popped.)

It was Lisa’s idea to hang this banner in this spot. Looked perfect to me. Another thing she just took care of.

Tanya sent me this picture after Gina arrived back at her place with the car. Everything really was okay! (Even better yet, we now know that audition is looking to lead to three different opportunities, and she is definitely booked in to be a “horseback champion” for the medieval tournament in May. )

Gary back on his horse after the two were reunited. The gratitude that is part of this picture is very real.

The Good Stuff

On Saturday we trailed a small number of cows a fairly short distance. With few cows and few miles we didn’t think of this as a full crew event. It seemed like a good time to involve a cowboy we wanted to know better and kids that are just getting their feet wet as cowboys and cowgirls. The weather was great and things went (mostly) well. I was invited to be the truck driver which meant I had a different perspective and had a chance for the kind of pictures I have grown to love, close ups of the people. The whole weekend was shaped by memorable people time. Here are the images and thoughts I can share.

Jill came home for the weekend and brought her accordion. She says she feels bad practicing it in her apartment. While I worked on food prep she regaled me. Here she is laughing at a rough sounding mistake.

Ron works with us year round, he is often spoken of but rarely photographed. I caught him for a picture after he helped unload the trailer early on the chase day.

Callum is working on a nearby farm and hails from New Zealand. He will soon head home. We have enjoyed having him on several cow chases. This day I learned of his ease in dealing with Russell’s ridiculous humor.

This is moments before Tucker jumped on a horse and his Grandpa, David, led him for his first cattle drive. He did really well.

This is not Braylee’s first cow chase but this is her first year. She is ready!

This is my favorite picture of the day. In the moment this was just a “lets hurry and get these gloves on, we don’t want to keep anyone waiting!” kind of happening. But the subtext of it strikes me. I see Braylee with so much trust in her grandpa Laurie, its not likely top of her mind but its in her heart, “he loves me, he will help me, he will make sure I have what I need, he might be hurried but he will treat me gently.” There is so much goodness here.

Ready to roll! Cowgirl Braylee with her Mama sharing her saddle.

Lennox is getting to be a seasoned cowboy. I believe this is his third year on the trail with us.

Our family picture for 2024. Russ urged me to get on his horse for the photo.

Jill took a video of part of the days extra action. This is a screen grab from it. We had a sick calf, Russ roped it on his first try, Morg got a headloop on it, we meant to load it solo in the trailer and take it home. When possible it would get medicine. One problem…..it’s mother, a cow named “Snowman” is such a good mother it would not leave her calf alone or make any safe space for the crew to work. This required a new plan, from my point of view it looked like there was alot of improvising. End result…..the cow was roped and loaded, the calf was roped, given its medicine on the road, by Jill I believe, while Gina was securing ropes, I was holding 3 horses and a trailer door, and Morgan’s horse, one he was training, proved to be rather bomb proof as he was the lone man atop a horse through alot of bedlam. The calf was loaded after it had its needles and taken home. End End result….8 hours later the calf already looked alot better. But what about the herd? Well….4 adults and 3 kids under 8 traveled with the herd for a full thirty minutes without their crew boss, half the adult crew or a trailer. Callum was the only adult who was able to give undivided attention to the cows, all other adults had a child on a horse to be watching over. We were blessed to have their work go very smoothly. We were also fortunate that the one car to approach was a rancher and she was patient and understanding. Thanks Memarie!

Russ, Gina, Jill and Morgan had alot of catching up to do to get to the herd. They did some fast riding, part way through Russ pulled out his phone and made a video. This is it, I think it gives a bit of the exhilaration of riding and of sharing something awesome with your kids.

With Linda P holding the lane on the eastbound side I stopped things heading west as we did the highway crossing. Jill was the lead cowgirl venturing out onto #18. Luckily the highway was not too busy in these moments.

Progress! According to the timestamp on several pictures this was all said and done in under 2 minutes. It feels like longer when you are watching those first cows try to decide if they will step forward, meanwhile vehicles were accumulating behind me.

A grandson substitution after the crossing meant Tucker gave up his saddle to Hudson. First day on the trail!

Lacee brings a very kind and considerate presence to the trail, all done for another day and still smiling.

I love this impromptu family trail pic. David and Linda with some of their grandkids.

Another good visit for Gina and Braylee. It was not easy for Braylee to get her head around the fact that Gina does not live here and soon would fly away to Toronto.

With Gina heading home, not to return til April we had a little sampling of Christmas on Sunday morning. Grandma Shirley came over for breakfast, here she is greeting Jill’s cat.

Here is a glimpse of our customary Christmas breakfast. A notable thing here…. Russ recently created some different pasture fencing to make life easier, it means that grazing horses are several feet closer to the house windows at times. As we ate breakfast our donkey could be seen outside. His name is Elton John. It tickled my fancy to be able to say, “not everyone eats Christmas breakfast with Elton John hanging around.”

Some stockings for the “kids” and 1 gift each to open. Coffee dog always helps Morgan.

I have extremely mixed feelings about personal moments being the object of my camera. But this is life right? But do I have to share it? Well……I want to. Just to uphold something. To uphold that this is what life is about. Letting ourselves love and adore and support and bond and feel and have a hard time saying goodbye. My girls are good to each other and goodbye was not easy as Jill slipped back to Regina late Sunday.

I called this blog “The Good Stuff” because sunshine, fall landscapes, cows, kids and Christmas feel like some of the best stuff in life. It was a good weekend!

Miscellaneous

We had a great weekend resulting in awesome pictures of cows and people. But I am 3/4 done this blog so first this, then that. This blog shares pictures that emerged over the last weeks, they moved me in one way or another. I want to explore them a bit. Then, when I can, a future blog will have those awesome trail pictures to share.

Gina came to me after the last blog was published to say “Oh Mom, heres another sunrise picture, you might have wanted it.” I said to her, “send it to me!” I wasn’t sure how I would use it but it is so lovely. Looking at it now I am happy that my girl who regularly starts her day by popping out her door in the midst of the dark of morning, spilling into a city occupied by millions, within a few minutes finding herself in the subway station or standing at a bus stop, well, that young woman has the chance to come home and be taken in by this view first thing in the morning.

I am so glad I stopped everything and took this picture of Shirley. I recently saw the movie “Lee” and one thing it made me think about was how I am not capturing the everyday moments of life as well as I used to. This is an everyday moment but it is also quite sacred. Here is what I notice…..Grandma Shirley has a radiant smile and is looking very healthy, this is a moment to savor……Shirley was helping out, she hates coming and not doing something to help me, I get that. She has way more experience at an ironing board then I do and so she lent much expertise to the work at hand. The work at hand was…..rescuing the table cloth I wanted to use for supper. I had put it on the table and then thought, “my Mom would never set a table looking like this.” I just didn’t have time to make it better, but I wondered if Shirley would be open to doing it. She was. So in these moments she was helping me to live out some of the hospitality lessons that my Mom practiced so easily. She was helping me honor my Mom, for that I am grateful.

I believe the above picture was taken in about 1982. I dug through some files to have a look for “table pictures”. As I remember it, extended family gatherings at home always had a beautiful tablecloth. What I had forgotten was found in the many table pictures I found, the norm of also having candles and some form of flowers. Mom and Dad knew how to kick it up a notch when special times were happening. Thats my Mom at the end of the table.

My sister in law and I were in Regina recently. We asked Jill to meet us. When she rolled in she had an air about her, I said, “Jill we need to do a photo shoot.” I think my lens was clouded because this photo does not do this moment clear justice. The thing is, I love to see our kids finding their style, their health, their strengths and their capacity. It was all evident this day.

I had a job to do one night last week. Russ asked me to “go to your spot and turn the cows.” From that spot, which is right at the top of the low level crossing road, I took this dusky picture as I was making a video. The video is shown below. Its a little bit of cattle action. I was making this video for a friend, I am sharing it here for those who enjoy seeing Kathy “the cowgirl” (!?!?!) in action or just some close up action with cattle.

The car I heard in the video was in fact a big semi. It was a bit nervewracking to see it approaching, but the cows and the semi shared the road. Sometimes I think maybe people think “who do you think you are to stop or slow traffic by putting your cows on the road!?” To that I say…..”if you want to eat a burger, somewhere, cows are on the move for you. And if you want to eat bread you might get slowed down behind a combine moving down the highway.” The behind the scenes action is real and neccesary.

The table had been cleared but the chairs were still askew, the extensions were still in the table and toys were near. It was the evidence of life and it made me happy so I took this picture.

Last week Gina, Jill and I and my friend Abby attended “Come From Away,” a musical telling the true story of Gander, Newfoundland in the days after 9-11. I was so excited to see it after being in Newfoundland a few years ago. It was a great production. Abby took this picture for us. As we were exiting the theatre I looked around and saw that most people were 30 years old and over and I thought, “this is all of ours story.” We all remember something about September 11, 2001. That unity of general experience felt profound to me. This story from Gander, where 38 planes from all over the world landed for refuge and stayed 4 days, was really heartwarming.

Knightwing, our guard dog, is proof positive that tough and tender can live in the same body. Grandma Shirley is her best friend but many, when asked, say that of all of our 4 dogs, Knightwing is their favorite. This is a nice moment. This is the same dog that took on a wolf in the pasture last year and lived to tell about it.

I love going for coffee, I have since I was a university student. Grandma Shirley and I have a little tradition of stopping in for tea and pie at Tailgate Dining in Carievale after going to North Dakota for packages at Sherwood. Gina got to join us this past week and Taylor took this photo for us. I feel very loved when I look at this picture.

That ends the miscellaneous photo round up of these little nuggets of life. These pictures add up to me having the word “opportunity” in my head. Every day has opportunities to see and experience some form of beauty and goodness. What I am reckoning with is that it seems I need to shut down some of the noise in my life that keeps me from glimpsing all the beauty and goodness. I have become a little too attached to my phone and my earbuds, it seems I am always listening to or scrolling through something, I am sacrificing peace. I have some changes to make. I am looking forward to doing better on this issue and seeing what comes of it.

Beautiful Sights

I have not posted on the blog for four months. I will say a bit about that in a future post. This blog is to share a few beautiful things I have laid my eyes on in the past week. We are back at it with moving cows and for us that means time with family and friends. It means lots of action.

Gina flew in from Toronto this week, she and Jill came to the ranch on Friday morning. Later that afternoon this was the scene as Russ had all three of his kids working with him at the PFRA pasture.

Friday evening Clarence and Donna set up camp in our yard. This made it a little easier to be ready for that 5:45am departure out of the yard on Saturday. Donna sent me this beautiful picture of the northern lights over the corral.

The sunrise on Saturday was beautiful. It was another day when I wished that photographer Liz was on the trail with us. What magic this light is! In fact this was taken by my niece Brodie who has a drone photography business. I believe this is Gina and Morgan pictured here.

Becca sent me this picture. She is great about keeping me in the loop of what is going on while I am in the kitchen doing my part. I love her time stamps.

Fall in Saskatchewan. Fields are harvested, the scene is golden and once in a while, you find a herd of cows heading down the road.

My part of the chase on Saturday was to create a meal to be ready about 1pm when the crew got the cows to their destination. They were early, almost an hour early getting to the McNeil farm where the cows would spend the night. Luckily I had the help of Erin Nichols, we boogied and got there only a little late. We took 6 batches of potato beef and bacon soup and a batch of bread. There was enough for the 40 mouths we fed.

The earlier lunch was actually really helpful to me as I had a wedding to conduct at 4:30pm. Weddings can be quite exciting, as couples see their plans come to life. I had to fight back tears at one point in the service, I don’t think its because I was sleep deprived, some of the words they chose just really got me. At supper we sat with fun people and I got asked the question, “how did you know you wanted to be a minister?” I love getting asked questions that invite me to dig around inside, I do alot of listening in life and really only talk best when invited to, so this was a real treat to me.

Our alarm had rang at 3:45am so needless to say that we didn’t stay for the wedding dance. We got home and had a visit with our company, family from Saskatoon, thats when Jill took the following picture. It started being a picture of Jill’s cat, but I was making lists for the next day and the cat was perched on our government desk, so we hammed it up a bit, like I was conferring with him on the plan.

I found Sunday pretty special.  It was alot of work but it was special.  Part of it was the sunshine, the safety and smoothness we had and all the people action.

Jill got the feedback that Emma just loved seeing her again, the two of them rode together all day. I love this.

Erin and I were set up a little early for the arrival of the herd at lunch, we had time for pictures. Erin can really zoom and easily sees what needs to be done, making her invaluable help in the kitchen.

Erin and I were getting tables set up when the cows were getting across the Alameda dam. Dwayne sent me this picture, a glimpse of how it looked from his point of view.

Here is how it looked from our perspective at the lunch station.

The angle and sunshine allowed a cool silhouette of one of our cowboys stretching his legs.

I like this picture, it captures the tail end of the herd as they eased into the ditch just beyond us, Sharon in the truck having carefully trailed behind and a glimpse of our lunch set-up, ready for action.

I love the varieties of ages in this picture, and levels of warm clothing or not, this is a view I don’t often get, the lunch line from the very back.

It isn’t every meal that we spend the time surrounded by untethered horses so it struck me when this is the scene that emerged.

Bingo turns 10 years old in a couple of weeks. She has an amazing work ethic and works through alot of pain due to arthritis. A few of us are dealing with similiar dynamics. I loved opening this pail of cool water for her.

Gina made a new friend on the trail as evidenced by these pictures. Gina is not exactly a kid person, at least that is what she feels, so she was a little stunned to be enjoyed so much by her new friend.

Gina and Braylee saying goodbye after supper on Sunday.

Gina and Jill got a nap after lunch on Saturday.

It is always a highlight for me when my extended family can be near and take part in things. Here is my niece Brodie and my brother in law Gary. I love their smiles in this moment and hope that despite the pain caused by jumping on a horse after months away from it, they are glad they came and will come back.

Thinking back on the weekend, from my point of view I am struck by the variety of feelings I have. It reminds me of how I felt when I went into the hospital to have Jill. I remember being so amazed at how profound the experience was to birth Gina, but when the morning of my inducement with Jill dawned, I remember thinking “do I really have to do that today?” The reality of it was daunting. When the alarm goes on cow chase mornings there are similiar dynamics. Do I really have to get up and go go go and just hope the work is done before my energy runs out? Do I really have to be in my kitchen that much?!? (26,000 steps over 2 days, most in the confines of our kitchen.) But then the other side of the picture comes into focus. It is so very rewarding to feed grateful people. It is a joy to have their faces draw close at the food table and get a chance to check in. We had the chance to meet some strangers over the weekend and feed them, that was gratifying and gave Russ and I practice at being who we want to be. It is fun to be able to provide treats to kids, at least that is how I interpret the many choices of bags of chips that were on the menu Sunday. It felt good to have some nutrition on offer, apples, cucumbers and carrots, all prepped beautifully by Erin, the carrots from the garden at Joey and Matt’s, our neighbors. It felt great to serve gravy that tasted good, although I had trouble getting it thick enough. Thats when Erin told me about the joy of “blending flour” I will be getting some of that. Slow cooked beef on home-made buns made Russ happy. I really felt pleased. So although the days were daunting for Russ and I both we were very blessed by all the goodness that wove its way through. We have done a little sleeping since! We have some days left in this cow chase season but this weekend was our really big one and all is well.

Moo

A couple of weeks ago our Ox was recruited to be on display at the Estevan Exhibition. That got Russell and I into high gear. He making a Facebook page for Moo our Ox, and me creating information posters that could be hung on his pen. I absolutely love this kind of stuff. This post shares the posters that I made. I made them thinking about the kids that might come to Moo’s pen and have little background in cattle. I did the story telling from Moo’s perspective. I had a sense of permission to be playful and really enjoyed recalling all that we have been through with Moo. Unfortunately many of our early pictures with Moo are on a computer that we can’t get to boot up. We had fun with what we had. So may I present ….the story of Moo Oxen Bayliss.

Moo did great at the exhibition. He was a gentleman. That was excellent given that he weighed 2390 pounds the week before he went to the fair. This past weekend Moo was taken on a trailride commemorating the route of the North West Mounted Police on their trek west. His life is getting a little more exciting than it used to be!

Moo’s station at the Estevan exhibition.

Sunday morning, after a very big storm the night before, all the posters are gone and it is almost time to go home. Russ wondered if he could recreate the 4H picture of Morgan settled against Moo. Nope. Once Russ got close to being on the ground, Moo was getting up.

25 Years Ago

It is 6:06am on May 30th, 2024. I am sitting in the basement of our ranch house, my son Morgan just popped in the door of our laundry room where I have a writing desk, dropped some clothes on the floor, and said, “hows it going Mom?” Upstairs there are five other cowboys, men and women ranging in age from 14-54, they are all taking first sips of coffee, within twenty minutes they are planning to be out the door. The vet and his technician will be here later to semen test our bulls. Our crew is going to get the bulls from pasture and bring them home to the working chute. This set of mammoth animals will turn in at the gate and trot through the yard. This is a pretty normal morning around here.

Twenty five years ago today I woke up in my Aunt Elva and Uncle Larry’s home in Regina. I was single, freshly done my theological training and I was going to attend the final day of the 1999 version of the United Church’s Annual Conference in Saskatchewan. At that conference I was to be ordained. That means that through a special ceremony I was granted a new status. I would no longer be Kathy Kyle, I would become Rev. Kathy Kyle and I would be given the permission and trust of the church to conduct the sacraments of marriage, baptism and communion. I have two memories of the personal preparations for that day. I remember ironing the garment I would wear in the ceremony, my alb, and I remember writing in my journal. Aunt Elva had a beautiful iron and I remember deciding for myself that I would buy myself a similiarly beautiful iron for the alb sessions that lay ahead.

I don’t suppose if someone had been able to give me a fast forward glimpse of this morning, twenty five years later, I could have believed it. My plan that morning was to live with my parents in Saskatoon for one more month then move to the place where the church had assigned me, two little towns called Gainsborough and Carievale. I would spend three years, the minimum requirement of the church at the time, then I would return to Saskatoon. Despite having had some really tough parts to my story, loss and illness in our family, I had experienced many wonderful unfoldings in life and I believed/planned that when I returned to Saskatoon, surely, the job of my dreams would be open and I would become the chaplain I had trained to be. So as this morning dawned twenty five years ago, I had a career plan of sorts, but I didn’t have a personal plan. How does an almost 31 year old woman move to a place where she doesn’t expect to find a mate, work for three years, move again, get settled and employed again, meet Mr. Right and have children before the biological clock has wound down? I didn’t know.

As I sit and ponder what I remember about that day I am struck again by my persistent inability to remember details. I remember it was a powerful experience. I remember that there were two people in the crowd whose feelings I had really hurt, not by being a jerk, just by being human, I think. I remember that many family gathered, some not used to the churchy stuff we were doing, and I felt a little curious and a little worried about how it was going down for them.

I remember my Mom. She was getting her head around the fact that her church was sending her daughter so very far away from her when she needed me. I had spent the prior year helping Mom with Dad’s care as he lived with dementia. I also remember that she had a special gift for me. When her beloved Grandma had died Mom received her wedding band. It was in her jewellery box for eleven years or so, until Mom tucked it into a ring box and brought it to Regina to present to me. My Great-Gram was 32 years old when the United Church was created. She was a church woman through and through, the United Church mattered a great deal to her. Mom presented me with her ring and said, “Grandma would be so proud to have a minister in the family, I want you to have this.” I put it on. It fit perfectly. I have worn it every day since. I call it my ordination ring and it reminds me of the identity and the promises that were part of the vows and the blessings that flowed that day.

Grandma’s band is now paired with a ring purchased a few years ago at a museum gift shop. Perhaps it was only $20, but its interlocking hearts reminds me of the way of life that Russ and I have committed to, as parents, ranchers, community members and spouses.

Other things……

In my first few months on the job in 1999 I led the church at Carievale as we baptised a little girl named Taylor. When I met with her parents to talk over the baptism, explore its meaning and how things would unfold I met her older sister, a small girl who impacted me that fall evening with how much she loved potatoes. This past Sunday I had the chance to baptize that potato loving girl’s first child, the beautiful baby was wearing the same dress that her Auntie Taylor had worn 25 years earlier when we baptized her. Yesterday I popped my head into the kitchen of the Carievale restaurant that Taylor has created. We quickly checked in about the start of preparations for her wedding this coming summer.

The things that unfolded in those days in 1999, meeting a local rancher, finding him to be a person whom I could release all my other plans for, and pursue a life with. Trying to live life as faithfully as possible. This has all meant a longevity of relationships that has seen me through a whole generation of life. Later this summer I will conduct a wedding for the daughter of one of those couples I conducted a wedding for in my first summers as a minister. That will be the first second generation wedding I conduct. Twenty five years truly has passed.

Probably eight minutes before I needed to head out the door to get to the Carievale church this past Sunday I grabbed that alb I wore the day I was ordained. It was wedged into the back of my closet. I only wear it now when I am leading worship where we celebrate baptism or communion. I hung the alb by the door and realized with a little chagrin that the bottom was very wrinkly from the congestion in the closet. I whipped it off the hanger, ran down to this laundry room, yanked out the load that was waiting in the dryer and threw it onto my desk chair, grabbed some wet laundry from the washer and put it in the dryer with my alb, the wet laundry had a job to do, create steam. I returned to find my trick had worked.

Do you remember my Aunt’s high quality iron and my intention to provide that for myself? The dryer trick of this past weekend is telling. Twenty five years after that calm morning where I solemnly ironed my alb, there was not alot of calm. Final sermon preparations were interrupted by the need to unexpectedly go give a calf a bottle, I needed shortcuts like the dryer. Amid the chaos I had something better than a fantastic iron to tackle what was ahead. I had confidence. Born of experience but moreso the knowledge that I am part of a team. Russell is my greatest fan, believing in me and what I do. More than that, I have relied on the movement of the Holy Spirit to give me wisdom, strength, insight and clarity, over and over again as the years have gone by. I have not been let down. More than this my mission has been clarified. I am more convinced than I have ever been that this whole journey, for all of us, is about love. Jesus and I are a team in this. I take my cue from his way of seeing people, versus simply watching them. I take my cue from the fact that he never left anyone out. He stood up for people beat down by many forces in life. He was so smart.

I am still slightly in awe of the events of this day twenty five years ago, I am in awe of the wide variety of experiences it has allowed me and I am excited by the next twenty five years and the teamwork that lies ahead.