Posted in Canada remembers, Projects

A Welcome Note

I went in to do my student evaluations this evening and found this story front and center in my University email box. The link will take you through to the story of Captain Cowie and his ultimate sacrifice. There is info about his campus connections and his family ties to Saskatoon that still exist today. These are the stories that I mentioned yesterday that are so hard to capture so I am pleased that this one popped into my world today. The link is here at

And for even further surprises and delight I saw action at the actual Memorial Gates. I was appalled at the weeds growing in what is usually a flower bed. So last week I called the Facilities Management Department (this is the home of the Tumultuous Tuesday that changed our lives)  and talked to a real person after 1 ring and gave her my concern. Today the weeds were mowed over and the area looks better. Certainly not as good as flowers and I feel certain it would benefit from some crosses with poppies; similar to what we saw on many sites in Belgium and France so that is my goal for this weekend.

Memorial Gates, University of Saskatchewan

This is a nice counter balance to the full size blow up Santa and sled I saw on a front lawn 1 block away. Heavy sigh.


Posted in celebrations, pandemic, writing

That “Kind” of Day

Remember the old saying “But teacher, the dog ate my homework?”. The modern equivalent is this “my post was eaten by WordPress/my computer”. Yes I hit save and yes I tried the backdoor. No I can’t rescue it so here is the short version.

It’s world kindness day. It should be our default but somehow it’s not what we choose. So today let’s try hard.

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Posted in Canada remembers, writing

A Unique Remembrance Day

The men and women marched down the wide street, the cold north wind blasting at them. The two blocks from the Legion building to the Cenotaph covered in quick time. The  amazement in my mind that these farmers and wives knew how to march. That those names on the monument meant something personal to them*. The ‘Last Post’ played on a trumpet by a local youth and the dropping of the poppies on the bottom of the plinth. These are my first memories of Remembrance Day in small town Saskatchewan in the 60’s.

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