Flashback Friday - Everything Survived but the Christmas Socks

Today's Flashback Friday is a different kind of trip. Today, we're heading into a voyage of Christmas Past. But, just because there wasn't a pandemic doesn't mean that troubles still didn't happen. And, on the Christmas of 2011, trouble happened.

On an aside, I find it kind of interesting that in this flashback post - my biggest concern was the loss of my Christmas socks. Seriously! Okay, I am a sock nut - love them and these socks were apparently second only to my Halloween socks. Odd, that now I can't remember much about what they looked like and that bag I'm holding with their remains - no help. 

So here's how that "all Canadian Christmas" of 2011 played out...a little yucky around the edges but everyone except the socks made it through....

Christmas day started fine with a visit to my fave aunt.  And it continued right through an afternoon visit with another group of family - then, moved on to the evening, and another family group.  Yes, three houses - one day, no one said Christmas was for the faint of heart!  But it's all fun.  At least it was right through Christmas supper and into that first game of pool and then, well, then the Christmas socks met a fate they didn't expect.

A plumbing nightmare - on Christmas night, is, while not worst case scenario - it's sure up there.  Sewer backups are not what anyone wants to think about.  In fact, it definitely puts a bit of a damper on the ho ho ho.  More like yuk yuk yuk.  And as far as a family bonding experience, I wouldn't recommend it.  But we survived the night - but first we put the plumber in the phoning queue.

Sadly, I have to report - the socks did not, survive - it was just all, too much.  

And that, was one of the "sad" tales of Christmas Past! 

Ryshia

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Flashback Friday and Chugwater Chili

Today's Flashback Friday takes us on a journey to one of the quaintest restaurants I've ever seen. A replay of a trip from a few years back takes us on a hop skip over the United States/Canadian border.

                  

                                          Where in the World Am I...

Less than an hour down the road from Douglas, Wyoming, is the quiet little village of Chugwater.  We would have flown, or driven, if you prefer, right by except for the intriguing billboard announcing Chugwater Chili.  What was intriguing about it?  Well, it wasn't the typical hotel, motel or fast food advertisement, plus it was all alone with only rugged wilderness surrounding it.  That got our attention, plus it was lunch time and we were hungry and truly sick of another variation of "fast food".   And, well, a confession, we'd tried out the same chili last year.  So we hit the exit ramp and you know, you just can't pass up those opportunities.


Chugwater Chili has an interesting story - check out their website if you're interested.  But it appeared to me like a small place collaborating with each other to succeed.  Because besides the chili there were Chugwater t-shirts, spices and other parapanalia and an inventory of books propped in holders on tables. 

Last year there was a gas station, this year the sign outside of Douglas warned of a 65 mile drought as far as gas.  The waitress in Chugwater was quick to tell us the story of a man who drove into the building.  The aftermath?  Well, the gas station is no more, the culprit has been detained and people are out of work as a result.  Not a pretty story and I suspect one that went deeper than the short version we got while paying for our meal.

Despite what was probably a major financial hit for the residents of Chugwater, it carries on.  So if you're in the vicinity I'd definitely recommend it as a much more colourful dining experience than one offered by any of the available chains.  

Not only that but the chili was tasty! 

Now I'm sitting in front of a wood fire in the heart of Santa Fe - and well that's another story.

Ryshia

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Flashback Friday - Bangkok Fined!

So with luggage still stored we're heading down memory lane and another virtual trip. I'm excited to share this one with you for it makes me smile. Now, at least, in hindsight and from the safety of home. Then, not so much. 

It all takes place in Thailand a handful of years ago. 

Here's what it's like to stand just slightly on the wrong side of the law in a foreign country...

Just prior to a visit to the Royal Palace in Bangkok a local warned us about littering. I suppose he'd seen foreigners littering and knew of the repercussions. However, having grown up in Canada and lived through anti-littering campaigns it was the last thing on my mind. However, cigarette butts weren't. Not that I'm a smoker but at the time one person in our group was and what better place to dispose of a butt but a sidewalk grate? 

                                                                          Not! 

Ten minutes later what looked like a bus shelter that contained a desk on the edge of a busy pedestrian sidewalk took on a whole new meaning as we stood dutifully before the Thai policeman. When asked our country of origin I noted that his smile slipped when we said Canada and his finger trailed down the list. It appeared, and this is only a guess, that the fines were country of origin specific. We walked away $60 lighter and a new addition to our list of rules on what littering really means.Oh, did I mention that on that day too, the King of Thailand was on a nearby visit. In the process, the limo stopped suddenly barely missing running over someone in our small group. 

It was a day made for entries in the book "What Not to do When Overseas." 

Live and learn. 

Ryshia 

(and the ticket - that has become a travel souvenir or should we say badge of honor?) 

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Flashback Friday - Don't Travel Quietly

Today is Flashback Friday and it's a different kind of trip, a trip back in time to a prairie summer where there was a different kind of uninvited house guest. Ironically, that house guest is still here but these were the beginnings....

    Squirrels

Dozens of squirrels.  I love the little guys.  They're entertaining and harmless except for a dug up flower pot or two.  And I'm an ardent defender of their right to share my backyard space.  Not everyone thinks that way and I have to admit that even I have resorted to a little hot pepper sprinkled around a pot or two to keep them from digging up flowers.

Maybe that was why they dug up the Habanero pepper I had growing in a little pot on the deck and took away the evidence so there was nothing to even replant.  I do believe they have a sense of humour.  If nothing else, they're letting it be known that they were here.  Still, it was rather ironic when after years of falling apart public sidewalks on our street, on the eve of getting new concrete I say, "No one better engrave their initials or hand print etc., etc. into the fresh concrete. 

It wasn't long after when I discovered these tiny little paw tracks immortalized for all time in the new concrete.  There was nothing I could do but laugh - this was a squirrel I wouldn't forget!

Something to remember as we travel through life - don't travel quietly, at least not all the time.  Let people know now and again that you've been here. Hope you enjoyed this virtual trip back into time - have a great Friday!

Ryshia

...a world you never imagined!

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Flashback Friday - Where in the World Am I?

I love the title of this post and that's why it was an easy choice for Flashback Friday. For, that question - Where in the world am I... - persists in this strange pandemic bubble that we find ourselves in. So it's time to get out of that bubble for awhile and let our imagination take us away again to somewhere else, some place where the world is sane and relatively safe, a place that will appear soon enough in real time but, in the meantime, let's pack our suitcase and let our imagination take us away. Whether that's the past or the future - it's time...

Where in the world am I... 

I'm going back to a world where there's craft sales and flea markets, a place where crossing borders is called travel. Let's do a virtual trip by going backward in time to the fall a handful of years ago...

Where in the World Am I...

Somewhere in New Mexico

I know it's a strange question, I should know, shouldn't I?  It seems in the last week or so I've been many places.  It's been a rush of craft/flea market sales, contests and packing, not to mention travel.  And even though I know where I am, I'm feeling slightly disorientated.  I've been offline for awhile, skidding across country borders in search of some nicer weather.

Instead I've ran from warmish-cool fall temperatures and no snow in Canada only to discover the further south we went, the colder it got.  In fact, the snow that we hadn't seen up north was hundreds of miles south courtesy of Blizzard Brutus that was moving in across some of the northern states.  We drove a step ahead of that storm for most of the way, getting caught on icy highways only in New Mexico.  But that's another story and you'll have to bear with me as I backtrack here, there and everywhere.

Tonto National Forest

But weather is what it is and often there's no second-guessing it, unless of course you own a pig spleen or two.  A strange prairies' lore for weather forecasting.

So we're here in Arizona, in one piece, the weather has turned again, for the better, and I'm just trying to catch my breath. It's strange typing this by a pool that I was recently swimming in with temperatures only now dipping enough for a light sweater.  I've been told that home was hit by the long arm of Eh Tu Brutus - read Brutus the Blizzard and a foot of snow landed as temperatures plummeted since we left.  I glance over at the pool and think I'll be glad to just make a straight trade, one pool for a snow shovel.  Somehow I think no one is buying.

Last week internet was spotty because of travel and this week began with no internet.  Finally in a stationary place I set up shop and vacation or not, meant to spend a couple of hours a day at work.  And it was then that I learned how stealthy the internet is as it creeps in and sucks up time.  I won't say much about it as that subject has been written to death but if you want to try an experiment - turn off your internet.  It's amazing how often you just click here or there, checking the weather, the news, your mail.  Short blips of time that are almost automatic.  I didn't realize how many there were until I couldn't connect at all.  After I got over the panic of not connecting, I enjoyed long stretches just focused on one thing, my latest story.

So now that I've wrapped the story up and discovered my synopsis needs a bit of tweaking.  Yes, any story I've ever written makes it a few chapters in before veering ever so slightly from the synopsis.  

I may mull that over some day but right now I have a new cover to look at.  It seems that although the world outside my window has changed, my laptop still reminds me that other worlds and promised vacations aside - right now there's still work to do.

Have a great Friday! Ryshia

www.ryshiakennie.com

Remembrance Day 2020 - Online

At the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month in 1918, the First World War officially came to an end. Since then, the poppy became the symbol of remembrance in many countries. 

The fallen and the poppies that mark their graves were honoured in a poem written by a Canadian Artillery, field-surgeon. If you can even begin to imagine, he wrote the poem in the midst of battle in 1915. Now one hundred years since that war ended, the poem lives on.

While this year everything is scaled down and for me, I won't be attending any live memorials; no watching the flyover and listening to the various speakers honour our war heroes. And, this year although the weather has complied, I won't be reminding myself that frozen toes are nothing, for our soldiers suffered the same cold with enemy fire all around them. It's a very different year, this year but the gratitude hasn't changed.

So today I'll leave you with the poem written by John McCrae who fought during World War I. He was a Canadian physician who is thought to have written the poem after the burial of his friend who was killed during the second battle of Ypres. 



In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, saw dawn, felt sunset glow
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you with failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.

by: John McCrae

                         




Ryshia

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Flashback Friday - A Road Trip Into The Past

Today is Flashback Friday and we're on a road trip that happened right about this time of year. The time of year when weather is iffy and snow can land at any time. But it's clear sailing for now just as it was a few years ago. 

Present Day: Got the car gassed up, not at the service station pictured below,  I think that was more of a gas museum, and we're off. A journey back in time to small town, Saskatchewan to a little town tucked into the  south half of the North American Plains. Fasten your seat belts and we're off spinning back a few years...

Plans change quickly and yesterday was no exception.  We'd planned to take Mom to her home town this week but with an eye on the weather.  This time of year a warm day can easily precede snow flurries or just cold rain and wind.

A gas museum?  It wasn't open.

It's a good day - so off we went.  A short trip really but it takes a while to get past the city clutter that stretches further every year with new subdivisions and acreages lapping the edges of what were once more distant bedroom communities so it seems like endless civilization.  Until - there's always the until, you make that turn off and find yourself on a smaller grid road heading into small town Saskatchewan.  And there it is, acres of what remains of golden cropped fields, the occasional house laying well back from the road and circled by a barn and a clutter of outbuildings.  A herd of cows, a horse or two and endless fields stringing into the distance.  

And just like that we're there.  The small town where Mom grew up, she now swears looks nothing like she remembers.  Except, wait - there's the old hotel and over there is so and so's house.  And, on it goes.

But it has changed.  You can see it in the sleek lines of new homes in a bay to the right and construction that's going on at the local school.  But for the most part it is still quiet without the continual sweep of traffic that we left how many miles behind.

The cemetery is the first stop  All cemeteries have a story or two and this one was rife with them like any other.  And having Mom along, she knew a few stories herself.  This one had a special area for the nuns as there was a convent in town - we'll go there later.  It also had, what I had only heard of as a practice in "the good old days".  A practice that reminds us that the old days had a few issues too.  When someone committed suicide they weren't buried in the main graveyard as that was consecrated ground.  Mom told me the story of the poor man who had been driven to kill himself and how he was buried in a far corner of the cemetery.  And sure enough, his grave was still there over fifty years later.  In the city I wondered if he would have been moved by now, back to the main area where he belonged.  Or maybe in the city, it would never have happened.  

So after an encounter or two or three, four, no five - garter snakes, the cemetery was alive with them, we headed to the convent. That had been taken over, in the usual small town fashion, by the post office, a hair salon, judo and dance school and the Mexican restaurant.  The restaurant is one that's been drawing people from all around.  I'd heard of it before we made this trip and eating there was no disappointment.  The restaurant was set up in what had once been the chapel.  Mom, never one to stand back and not ask a question, soon had the owner engaged in conversation of how/who and why.  Why did she come from Mexico and end up in small-town Saskatchewan?  How did she like it?  Well, she said it was a culture shock, of course that was a few decades ago and now she was used to it.  I'd imagine in the early days - the winter alone would be a shock.  And small town life, well I've always said one day I'll try it - short term.  It's different from city life like winter differs from summer and spring from fall.  I don't suppose you know either until you've lived it.

Once the convent - now library/restaurant etc.

Then on to, where else - the town library.  There, I discovered the life of a small-town librarian is very different from that of one in the city.  Here, she appeared to be master of her domain.  Heading a wooden desk in a small room with only a dozen or so shelving units full of books.  And after I satisfied her curiosity about the new face in her library, I discovered a few other things; that she knew my Mom and wanted to be a writer.  So after giving her a few writing tips I turned her over to Mom.

And after that - we headed for home.  We'd had a history lesson, ate authentic Mexican food - and it was fantastic. I'm going back for their weekend special one day soon!  All in all it was a short but fun trip.

Hope you enjoyed this virtual trip back into time - have a great Friday!

Ryshia

www.ryshiakennie.com

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Flashback Friday - Inspiration in the Rockies

t's Flashback Friday and today we're going to the Canadian Rockies, to Banff - I'm not sure if there's a more beautiful place in the world. It definitely ties for one of the top.  So we're off to - Inspiration in the Rockies and a whole lot of, dare I say it - snow!

Do you find that sometimes you get so caught up in the day to day routine that you forget what's almost under your nose or in this case, a day's drive away?

It found that a few years ago when I spent time in Calgary and a day in Banff, Alberta. Calgary.

Ah, those were the days - road trips. I'm sure they'll happen again, hopefully soon.

But in the meantime, back to Calgary and heading into the new year. 

For all its big city allure, Calgary still has pockets where nature is just across the street. I discovered a herd of mule deer just two short blocks away on the Nose Hill. A lovely sanctuary that's peaceful despite the fact that it's surrounded by city lights. However, I wasn't so enthralled with the idea that it was also the home of coyotes and other

predators.  Hey, I know they're not apt to confront humans, still I'm a city girl and that hill was their territory! I headed for home after a brief visit and a photo or two.

Then on to Banff. It's been a few years since I've made it to the mountains. Set within a national park, Banff is a small town seemingly locked in time and nestled within the Rockies. The faces of the tourists that ply the streets may have changed somewhat from years gone by but the town itself remains almost timeless. After cruising through the picturesque streets it was time to visit the Banff Springs Hotel, have a drink, relax and enjoy the view.

How can you not be inspired by a view like this?

                                                      View from Banff Springs Hotel 

And the next day with silver shadows bracketing the road beneath the late afternoon sun, it was back to the prairies. There, trees and grass pierced the snow and ice standing like sentinels as a murky quilt of clouds rose over the horizon and warned of more snow. Hills rolled gently, making a mockery of the prairie flatness and a herd of antelope grazed. And with the mountains long gone, the inspiration was everywhere.

Needless to say, without a New Years resolution - no, not even one,

I came back inspired! 

 Banff Springs Hotel

Here's a thought for the day:

What inspires you?

     Ryshia

                                                               www.ryshiakennie.com

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MySpace - I'll Play What I Want!

Do you remember MySpace? I do, it was my first attempt at social media. I remember the hours I took preparing my site, the coding that was necessary. I set it up, worked on getting followers and then Facebook landed on my radar. It was hours of work thrown under the bus. But, I was reminded of all of that as I was walking through the farmer's market and heard that particular song playing,  "Somebody to Love" by Jefferson Airplane. 

Having a song play automatically in the background was the one thing that I haven't been able to replicate on other social media sites. Good or bad, I loved that feature. But times change and I'm sure looking back, I would have been gritting my teeth at hearing that song for the millionth time. I'm guessing it would have been removed long ago. Still...

Through my career I've seen social media changes, websites change, even blogs change. Although, I do have to say that this blog has been around since 2007. It's actually officially my oldest site on the web. Even my website, which has been around almost as long, has changed hosting sites, looks - you name it. Through all of that change, it was here, especially in the early days, that I've documented much of my writing journey. But this blog has been more than that. It's gone on trips, becoming a travel journal and it's been a bit of a life journal too. 

But on the topic of retro music -  What's your favourite song, retro or otherwise? Let me know here or on Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/Author.RyshiaKennie/

My fave oddly isn't Somebody to Love but Dream On by Aerosmith.

Fave or not - take a listen to "Somebody to Love".

#music #facebook #books #websites

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JUbMWtUyIIE

     Ryshia

                                                               www.ryshiakennie.com

   ...a world you never imagined!      

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Flashback Friday - The Women's Open Hits Saskatchewan!

I

It's Flashback Friday and today we're going to visit the CP Women's Open. The event came to town and we're going to take it in - again! 

It's close to home except there's no getting close at least under your own steam. Spectators can't park at the golf course. Instead there are parking lots set up where you drive to and then hop on a school bus to take you to the rest of the way.

Our Canadian-hope-to-win, Brooke Henderson, was holding one of the leading positions - not first but close enough.  On Friday, it was still early days with two more days left in the tournament. She had some great shots and seemed not to notice the crowd that watch every shot as intently as if it were her last. It's amazing the discipline these golfers have. They're not distracted by the crowd of spectators, nor by the cameraman following them. It's them and that little white ball and nothing else matters. A lesson in discipline, for sure.

Note to writer - keyboard and paper is all that matters. Yet there are no crowds and still I can be so easily distracted. 

Beer samples from a pseudo golf bag out of this redone truck.

So, great day - glad we went.  It was an experience to be on the course, actually touching the rope that kept us off the fairway, being the one doing the clapping instead of some fan on television. My fingers are crossed that Brooke will pull off a win. There's a lot of Canadians cheering her on.

Hours later and we're back on the school bus. This time our volunteer driver is looking not at all like one might expect of a bus driver. She's wearing a cheery sundress, a brilliant smile and a pony tail - and greets us all as we enter the bus that is rocking with music that I'm not unfamiliar with - I've heard it in another era. DH looks at me as the school bus lurches into motion, smiles and says "Rather appropriate. The last time we heard this we were riding one one of these to school."

Past meets present yet again. 

                                         Ryshia

                                                               www.ryshiakennie.com

   ...a world you never imagined!      

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Flashback Friday - In the Lap of Luxury!

It's Flashback Friday and a trip down memory lane. We're going to a time, that some of you might not remember. A time when air travel was fun and when airport security didn't look at you as if you might be the problem!

Do you remember those days when riding a plane was fun?  

        ...When seats were wider and actually spaced with adequate leg room? 

       ...When the man reclining in front of you didn't land in your lap and when being assigned a middle seat didn't involve an intricate dance of dodging elbows?  

Airport - Seoul

I remember when water was free and not something you purchased after being frisked in a security line up.  Although this is not such a bad procedure.  I mean, from a writer of romantic suspense point of view, it gives me a sense of what frisking is all about.  Seriously, while I realize that the world has changed and we need a certain amount of security, some days I long for what was.  I think fondly back to days when I wasn't scrambling for plastic baggies for my midget size toothpaste and a man in uniform wasn't scowling over my mascara while I juggled my shoes and slipped on tile floors in sock feet.  Days when, should my luggage have been lost or the in flight meal insubstantial, no problem, my carry on had it all.

Hawaii 

So fast forward backwards, my second plane ride ever was to Hawaii.  Wardair was a Canadian airline that provided luxury even in economy.  An airline that like many things, is now history.  I remember a 747 with wide seats and excess legroom.  There was a circular staircase up to the lounge area that was open to all passengers.  There was a bar complete with bartender in the main passenger area in the forward section (economy) that served free drinks for the entire flight.  The drinks morphed into Mai Tais as we neared our destination.  

That journey included a tour of the cockpit for a few passengers chosen at random. I ended up being one. I can still remember my first encounter with the concept of auto pilot.  I think shock registered at walking into the cockpit, being overwhelmed by complexity of it all and then realizing that both the pilot and co-pilot faced me with their back to the wide open sky.   "It's on auto-pilot," the captain assured me with a smile.  And really, his smile wasn't wide enough.  Auto-pilot had me uneasy for the duration of the trip.  Thank goodness for the Mai Tais.

A Staircase in a 747 - leading to lounge

It's amazing how quickly what was once reality slips into the realm of history.  It's hard to imagine a plane now where the cockpit would be that open, or where a lounge would be available to anyone other than first class or where there would even be a lounge at all.  For better or worse, it's another world. 

For a writer, nothing is really over.  Those times that fade into history can come alive again with a pen and a flight into imagination.   And you - any memories of travel past?

                                                                            Ryshia

                                                               www.ryshiakennie.com

   ...a world you never imagined!      

The Dead Sea, a tourist and a whole other  story!

Check out my latest release:  The Tears We Never Cried

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