My Dad's Hankie

My Dad always carried a hankie in the pocket of his coveralls or work pants.  Most often it was a big red one if he was working but it could be a smaller one too.

When both he and my Mom passed away these hankies are something I kept.

They come in handy in the bush.   Really handy.   And this thin tattered one is the best of the best.  Thin and tattered means it was with my Dad a lot and washed a lot.   On a hot day dipping it in the lake or creek and tying it on is heavenly.  It helps long hair behave and stay out of the eyes, keeps the back of your neck from getting burned, and keeps big and little flies from eating away at your hairline.

Mostly, I have a little reminder of my Dad with me when go into the bush.   He passed away before I started going on these wilderness adventures.   He loved nature and hiking and I have no doubt that he would have enjoyed canoeing.  He loved the challenge of getting places that were off the beaten path.  He would have loved the work and seeing the sights....the middle of nowhere.  It reminds me that I'm a bit like him that way.

I took this photo one morning in Wabakimi.  My hair was really long at that time and each morning I would go to the edge of the water and braid my hair...and wrap it.  Most of our campsites were on these massive granite ridges of the Canadian Shield.  Our canoes would make landfall on these ridges, and on the night of my birthday, we laid out under an incredible moonless sky, watching the Perseides meteor showers...the ridge still warm from the day's sun.    Unforgettable days and moments.  

PS When going through the original photo sequence to locate this one, I realized I took this photo on our last morning.  We were about to pack everything up.   Re-visiting helped me realize an additional detail. 

This is awesome when you're a detail person.  

Can You Canoe Too?

I'm looking forward to writing some stories.  My head and my heart are full.

I have paddling on my mind.   My beloved, our youngest, and I, recently returned from a trip to Wisconsin to attend Canoecopia, the largest paddle expo in the world.   We are now even more eager to get out on the water and out into the bush.

But....we have wait. For trivial things like "ice-out". While we wait, we talk about trips we'd like to make, destinations, time of the season, possible day trips, week long trips, dream about someday trips...at least we can go on hikes. Going to a paddle show makes spring go a little slower :)

I thought about how I should go about trying to explain the phenomenon of Canoecopia, to my friends who don't "get it". What brings 20,000 people together in one exhibition hall? What packs 10 stages with hour long speaking sessions for two and a half days?   I realized that it really just boils down to sharing a common passion.

Any gathering over a common interest will be enjoyed by those who share that interest.  Quilters do this.  Scrapbookers do this.  Motorcycle and car enthusiasts do this.

We met up with old friends and made new ones.  It was GREAT to talk shop with fellow paddlers.  Out of the corner of my ear I heard one participant say that she would be taking part in the Wabakimi Project this summer.  This same nice lady was sitting by herself somewhere later and I introduced myself as a past project volunteer....and we had a lovely chat!!   We exchanged email addresses, and this week I sent along a link to my posts and photos of our adventure.  

In going over the links, I found my Lasting Glances post.   And I realized there are paddling stories that must be told.   You know...cause I'm waiting anyway.   Stay tuned!

Wonderings and Wanderings

The words we say and the things we do.  They're out there.  And we can't reel them back in.   I can edit the words I say here.  I like that about writing.  It feels less permanent. And I DO edit from time to time.

While blogging can be revealing, one has some control over the content. Does that just paint the picture I want you to see?

The other day I felt convicted that the things I do, must be consistent with the words I say.   Or else, I am just an clanging cymbal.  Pious words, with nothing to back them up.  Claims with no substance.

I had some reservations about my previous post; whether I wanted the world to read it, and then call me on it.  

Things happen.  They always happen.   Small group happens.   Work happens.  Coffee happens.  Creating and crafting happens.   These are all good things.  Fun things.  I LOVE fun things.   It's easy to give all in those situations.  

But what about the "other stuff".   You know....unpleasant situations, hurtful words, unkindness, criticism, cynicism, tears....am I ready to give it all then too? There are people around us who watch and listen. They hear my words, and see my wanderings.

I wonder where I wander sometimes.  I think that how we react to the "other stuff" probably has a great impact on fellow wanderers.   And then again, maybe no one notices at all.  

Still.  At the end of the day...there is hope, love, and forgiveness, and the greatest of these is Love.    I'm so glad.