Little evergreens grow up

There was recently a flurry of pictures of the little green sapling planted in the burned blackness of Fort McMurray. It was a school gift donated by six-year-old Sophia and planted by her fire fighter father.

The story reminded me once again of the evergreen tree in the yard of my childhood home in Saskatchewan.

If you were a child attending school in Western Canada in the ‘60s, you probably came home one day with a little evergreen sapling to be planted in your yard.

I remember the one I received. It was about six inches high with one or two little side branches and appeared to be closer to death than life. It was relinquished to the basement on the cool, damp floor until someone had time to help me plant it.

About a week later my mother took pity on me. We chose a suitable spot in the yard and followed the directions, digging a hole, forming a cone-shaped pile of dirt in the bottom, setting the sapling on the dirt and filling in the hole with more dirt. My assignment was to water the little thing every day, which I did faithfully.

 By the following summer there was faint hope that the seedling might survive. Then came autumn, when a propane fill was ordered to provide our winter heat. As the big truck backed up from filling the tank it went a little too far, and as I watched from the window I was sure my little tree would be crushed to the ground.

As soon as the truck left, I ran out to check. There stood my tree, totally unharmed. On each side of the trunk was a tire track. It had gone between the dual wheels!

 One summer as I watered my tree I noticed an abundance of bugs, probably aphids, crawling over its branches. I told my mother, who promptly introduced me to the insecticide Malathion and how to apply it. It killed the insects and my tree again survived.

When it had reached about three feet in height, something happened to the top branch. One of the side branches began to grow upwards, and after a few more seasons the damage was undetectable.

My tree in 2011

 I still look at my tree each time I visit the home farm. But now I look up to it’s towering stature. It reminds me of pleasant memories and bygone days. Most of all, it is still regarded as MY tree.

Community spirit strong in Ridgewood

Saturday afternoon was Spring Tea time at Ridgewood Community Hall. Many ladies of the local community enjoyed tea and strawberry shortcake, served by the local Women’s Institute members. I visited with four long-time residents of the area and learned the latest farm news and community happenings. There were door prizes (no, I did not win), a silent auction of two Martha Washington geraniums, and a beautiful display of local quilting, photography, and other crafts.

Strawberry Shortcake similar to that served (internet photo)

This was only the latest community event to be held at the Hall. In March, we enjoyed a spaghetti supper and a visit with the neighbours. In June we hope to return for Pancake Breakfast. Each October a large crowd of locals and nearby guests sit down to a full turkey supper, complete with homemade pie for dessert. In December the Hall hosts a potluck supper and Christmas program, reminiscent of the country school Christmas programs, with a visit from Santa.

All these functions contribute to the upkeep of the Community Hall with a modest admission fee, and enable residents to get to know each other better. This results in a cohesive community with a great sense of togetherness.

We are currently tending a farmyard in Ridgewood. It was purchased by a friend from an estate. As a result of these community events, we are becoming recognized and have learned an immense amount of history of the place where we live. Older neighbours are so pleased to hear that the yard is being looked after. The ladies at the Tea were delighted to hear that the flowers are still robust and enjoyed.

 

Ridgewood Community Hall (from Facebook page)

Over the past couple years, the acreages in the area have been hit with numerous burglaries. Even the Community Hall was not unscathed and is now under security. These acts have resulted in neighbours looking out for each other, being more attentive to strange vehicles and forming a Neighbourhood Watch team in an effort to keep the community safe.

If I were looking to live in rural Alberta, would I consider Ridgewood community? Yes, in a heartbeat! We need a very good reason to ever decline a yardsitting assignment in this area. It is a place to be proud of.

Jamal the Camel

I have a friend who is currently sitting on the side of my chair, watching us – that is, he watches what he can see of us through his sunglasses.

Before returning from Afghanistan in 2004, my husband spent a week in hospital in Dubai, United Arab Emirates. As he was recuperating between tests, he had lots of time to think. He regretted not purchasing an afghan for me at the weekly market held at the entrance to Camp Julien. He had planned to bring me an afghan from Afghanistan! In retrospect, it was probably good that he could not do so.

On a walk around the hospital, he visited the Gift Shop. There he found something to bring home for me.

 

Jamal the Camel is my stuffed “camel” friend from Dubai. He wears his name on an information card on his arm. That card teaches some interesting facts about camels:

 

But Jamal is more than just another “stuffie”. He is a reminder of the events that totally changed our lifestyle, of the plans left behind and the dreams to come. He goes with us in all our travels, keeping watch from his perch above a window in the fifth wheel.