More mindful moments of connecting with myself this week.
Over some fine Okanagan wine until 4 am, my cousin (whom I rarely see) and I set about doing our best to catch up on years of ...stuff, last time we visited.
Regardless of how infrequently we see each other, one of us brings up a certain question and we laugh. I've told the story to my sons also.
My cousin begins the same way. "Do you ever drive down the Drumheller Valley on the road out to Orkney and look across to the other side of the valley to where that huge refinery sits on top?" I say "Yes". And we laugh, talking about how different our lives might have been. I've driven that road in Alberta with my own sons and pointed out to them the place.
My grandmother herself told me the story of how she and my grandfather went to a certain spring every day, for water that flowed out of the side of the prehistoric layers of the valley wall. One day when they went the water was gone. And "By gum!" my grandmother would say, "There was black stuff coming out of the hole instead!"
"That damn Frank!" she would say, "went and sold the claim for a hundred dollars when he was in the bar on Saturday night."
The story really isn't disimilar to the 'Beverly Hillbillies", except for the last part. We certainly didn't move to Beverly Hills! I don't know how any of our lives would have been, but it's fun sometimes to wonder a bit. Life is what it's supposed to be.
My grandmother had a personal vested interest which she never forgot, and which she pointed out to me every time we drove the valley road. Not only is the oil pumping to this very day, but years back a whole refinery was built at the site.
For me I have a fun story that is part of my heritage and which I'll never forget!
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Hi Deborah: Wow... first comment. I don't think that has ever happened for me. Anyway... Okanagan wine. A new word for me. What is it like ? And... did your grandfather really sell the oil land like in your story ? Ouch. Take care...
Frank sold your claim for $100!!. It's understandable that you and are cousin are up at 4:00am drowning you sorrow in Okanagan wine! Thanks for sharing.
Hello Karen Anne - Yes my grandfather, a farmer, really sold the oil claim for $100. It was the Dirty Thirties when Canadian farming was wiped out by drought and dust storms.
A little on Okanagan Wines http://activerain.com/blogsview/224698/Okanagan-Wines-the-Beginning
Deborah, OUCH is right! It would be hard to imagine what life would be like if that valuable "black stuff" had been kept. But somehow I think we are always where we are supposed to be (even if we don't particularly want to be there :) Great story!
Robert - thanks for stopping in! My grandparents were farmers when the the great droughts occurred, which I'm sure must have affected the US also. $100 was a lot of money in those days.
That is my whole point Carole - thanks for emphasizing that. Life is what it is and was, supposed to be, regardlesss. I could ..we could, all offspring of my grandfather could live life bitterly, but we don't. We laugh and talk fondly of our heritage. We have all been very hard workers, an ethic set by those who went before us.
You're in BC! I loved BC!!! My sister lives in Ferndale, WA, and we went up to Vancouver and Victoria while I was there last summer--wow. How far from the border is Kelowna? Great story! Great Art! Great blog! Thank you!
Great story, Deborah. Funny how things work out. Glad you got to have such a nice visit with your cousin.
Hi Loretta - You have terrific beautiful energy! Kelowna is in BC's central interior about a 4 hr drive from Vancouver. We are about a 2 hour drive to the border. Our Okanagan Lake and Valley is home to the Okanagan River which flows into the Okanogan County of WA.
I don't know where Ferndale is, but I have traveled a lot in WA and Ore - some of my favorite places anywhere!
Thanks for stopping in Ricki - It certainly is funny how some things work out - most of which we have no control over - I feel very grateful for my heritage that goes back to my ancestors who pioneered in the Drumheller and Orkney area. They were among the many hard working people who built our country.
What a fabulous story Deborah and something that will help you keep the memory of your grandmother vividly alive in your mind forever. I love to listen to peoples old family stories especially my grandmothers recollections of her grandmother who traveled across the country in a wagon with her eleven kids while working in various farms before settling in Oklahoma.
Shellee! You too have a pioneering background!
I love the stories too! Aren't they just so amazing!!? My father's and mother's families were Canadian pioneers who built our land, a heritage to be very proud of! You must feel that connection also - I think pioneer spirit is a fabulous birthright!
My father in law used to talk about a piece of land in Muskoka that he wanted to buy (he couldn't raise an extra $100) that later became home to one of Muskokas largest lodges.
Gee Kathy, I think almost everyone can relate to stories like this. I think it is just best to accept that everything happens as it is supposed to, no regrets - just great stories and memories and perhaps vision of greater things!
Yes mam, our history and culture are definitely of great interest to me. And what a hard life it truly was. I can not imagine having eleven kids even with the modern comforts we have today much less in a time where you worked your fingers to the bone as a tenant or roaming farmer living in shack houses and out of the back of a hutch wagon!
You are right on Shellee - and have given me fodder for another post. I've read of course about the hardships of the tenant farmers in Oklahoma - what a difficult time and unfair. Here in Canada, immigrants in the very early days were given land to settle which is what my ancestors did in North and South Alberta.
My relatives have all created good lives, but I remember as a child seeing my uncle clearing land the old fashioned way with a plow behind a horse - and uprooting stumps that way also!
Love it Deborah!!! Of course the US was greatly affected by the drought. Did you know it lasted 7 years? My grandmother used to tell me how the "red dust" from Oklahoma would come up and cover everything. Of course that was during the depression. Even though farmers couldn't grow crops to sell, they did have small gardens, chickens and livestock, so at least they ate. The rest of the country was not so lucky. We still have their farm, although all the buildings that held the memories are gone. Never struck gold though. But I'd bet if I could go rooting through their "dump" I would find some really cool old stuff.
Terry - I thought you might like this one. No I didn't know the length of time of the drought. That is a long time. Were your family farmers? My Grandmother had many stories to tell of the depression, she always called it the 'Dirty Thirties'. It was a time of helping one another regardless of little they had - they shared - what a concept - seems so far from the culture of today.
I remember stories of transients stopping at the farm, working for food. It makes me wish I'd heard and/or listened more.