Correction: Congratulations 'Saskatchewan' Roughriders!!

**Correction:  

I reviewed the history of the Roughriders this morning on the Roughrider website: riderville.com/team-history/

.After a long history beginning in 1910 as the The Regina Ruby Club, the Regina Roughriders name was changed to the Saskatchewan Roughriders in 1948.

So:  

Congratulations to the 

'Saskatchewan' Roughriders 

for bringing the Grey Cup home to Saskatchewan on November 16, 2025. 

“Sometimes the kick in the pants we need must come from our own foot!”

~ Toni Sorenson, author

Congratulations Regina Roughriders!!

I have no Rider paraphernalia

I seldom know 

    when the Riders are playing

I’ve been to only 

    one game many years ago.

I flipped channels and landed on: 

3rd Quarter: 

    The Regina Roughriders ahead

4th Quarter: 

    The Montreal Alouettes pushed from behind

The game was fought hard and brilliantly ~ 

The Regina RoughRiders are bringing the Grey Cup home!!

“Champions are built on a thousand invisible mornings.”

~ Kirk Cousins, NFL quarterback 

Celebrating a Friend

Celebration of a birthday

laughter sprinkled through 

all the chatter around a table. 

different backgrounds, 

varied beliefs. 

good food and birthday cake

never too old to celebrate each other.

“Celebrating what we hope for together is better 

than fighting over what we believe separately.”

~ Steven Charleston, Ladder to the Light:

An Indigenous Elder’s Meditation on Hope and Courage

On a Late Afternoon Outing

Kiwanis Waterfall Park area

When I returned to Regina in July 2020 during the COVID pandemic, one of the first places I turned to was the Regina Newcomers Club. My first meetings and group activities were over Zoom, except for the walking group. That we were still able to do in Wascana Park by keeping our distance from each other but walking as a group. The membership is still relatively low, but is recovering with the hard work of board members and the general membership. 

This evening we celebrated the group’s 60 year presence in Regina. The weather was cloudy, windy and threatened rain, but that did not stop us. We brought our folding chairs to the Kiwanis Waterfall Park for fellowship, hamburgers, salads and cake. A small group of us played a round of Bocce Ball with no rules. In general we visited, sharing family news, travels and plan for the winter. The wind did slow down, the clouds thinned, the sun escaped the clouds as it set. When the food came out, so did the wasps. It turned out to be a lovely evening and I’m glad that I joined this group of women. 

“I love meeting new people.”

~ Anne Burrell, chef

The Gremlin of Guilt

Racing into a new year has never been my style. As I gather years behind me, the importance of excited celebrations has waned even further. I’m not bored with life, but cherish each day as important. Now that I don’t have to race to work, or race to other’s expectations, I have the luxury of becoming active in things that please me. Even as I write this, it sounds like I no longer care about others or the state of the world. Not true. I do know that the Gremlin of Guilt can still whisper to me. Should that little voice threaten my ability and joy in any move forward, I move forward anyway.

“Guilt is a rope that wears thin.”

~ Ayn Rand

Butterflies, Bees and a Birthday

Butterflies and bees came a-partying for

a charming, sweet girl ~ One Year Old today!

Happy noise filled the birthday room when

toys for little hands in bright shiny colours

burst from glossy party bags that glistened.

All topped off with cake, hotdogs and yummies!

“Today you are you! That is truer than true! 

There is no one alive who is you-er than you!”

~ Dr. Seuss

One More Time

Blossom Time - Royal Albert china

So many thoughts this Easter morning. Where do I start? Spinning from ordinary todays to special days of childhood,  

I liked the dress up part best, a new dress, a new Easter bonnet ~ Flowing along life changes, those precious times

were washed away, held only 

by the fraying strings of memory. Now on my own, in my own place, resurrection of these things

a slow and joyous task, brings out 

the china dinner plate for my breakfast,

drifts me back to long ago Easter and special days 

when we set the table, placing the silver cutlery just so, 

making sure the pretty pink blossoms 

on the plate had the laneway take me 

to the end of the orchard. One more time, I set 

a pretty china plate, but with ordinary cutlery.

“You can find something truly important in an ordinary minute.”

~ Mitch Albom

Timing and a Brain ‘Dwindle’ ~ An Essay (sort of)

Well, it’s almost 9 pm. I have yet to write anything for my blogpost. Sitting on my sofa, Mr. Jet (my cat) in the other corner; writing and emailing to the Regina Newcomer’s newsletter ~ done. Research when and where we meet for our monthly Dinner Social ~ done. Submission to our little publication ~ done. Why didn’t I get it done earlier? Because today was full. Slept in - just a bit. Yoga, exercises and other morning activities (Mr. Jet’s litter box) ~ done. An appointment in the early afternoon. A birthday celebration of friend (One year clean and sober). And then home. 

So. What was the bright spot of my day? Actually two bright spots. First, the birthday celebration. The second? That little piece of satisfaction that smooths any wrinkles in a day that seems to be speeding up and taking on a life of its own. Taking some time after the fullness of my day, I sat and looked around my mind (that can be a scary place). TV playing old re-runs. Walls and ceiling offering zip. Mr. Jet sleeping. 

It was the timing. My day had been all planned. Lots of space to get to my appointment, get my groceries and write my post. Surprise! I was invited to a birthday celebration! But how to add it to my day. Relying on the Regina Transit System posed a challenge ~ I thought. Did I mention the Brain ‘Dwindle’? It was fortunate! Because I remembered my appointment time 45 minutes too early, I got it all done! Buses on time! Home by 4p ~ celebration by 5p!

“Maybe no good timing means there’s no bad timing either.”

~ Casey McQuiston, One Last stop

An Easter Poem

We bow our heads

‘midst growth and health

grateful for our lives

blessed with young lives,

& new lives to come ~

grateful for our families

to share the joy of life 

in daytime brilliance or cloud,

or under a jewelled night sky.

“Reflect upon your present blessing, of which every man has plenty;

not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.”

~ Charles Dickens

 

The Jab

Easter eggs and the memories of many Easters gone by have filled the quiet of my home tonight. As children we celebrated the Christian religious rites in the United church. A member of the Junior and Senior choirs there was always an appropriate and uplifting anthem to sing for the congregation. Many a faithful community woman at the organ, our choir gowns crisp and ironed, we sung our hearts out. At home, we had our Easter baskets with the grass green paper strips nestling coloured candy eggs. Before Easter Sunday we dyed eggs for Easter. Not terribly intricate, but Easter eggs nonetheless. As with many of my memories, finer details have vanished in the frayed edges of these pictures. I do remember the fun of seeing the white shell of an egg turn red, or pink, blue or purple. Purple - now that was fun. Mixing up the colours. Sometimes mixing them too much and just getting a muddy yucky colour was always disappointing. 

This Easter, I am not singing in a choir, nor do I have an Easter basket. I am considering dying some eggs tomorrow in honour of the day and times gone by. Today, it was a different sort of throng I joined. Not a church congregation dressed in their Sunday best. I really do miss the fancy hats and snappy fedoras of the time. Today it was not a church, or even a community hall. There were no choirs singing, no bands playing. In one door and out another. Greeted by a cheerful ‘Top of the mornin’ to you’, the security guard directed me to follow the arrows into a rather cavernous building. My goal was not a chocolate bunny or a community meal. I came prepared with my Saskatchewan Health Card in hand, my mask and wore a short sleeved shirt - for ease of ‘the jab’. When I arrived at the reception desk, I could see I was merely one of a community of seekers of vaccination against our nemesis, the deadly Covid19 virus. New clean masks were provided us by delightful volunteers when we arrived at the reception desk. We maintained recommended distancing with reminders by big orange dots on the floor. As the line I joined moved steadily toward our end goals, men chatted about hockey games, women about children or grandchildren. The time in the lineup was probably five minutes.

White plastic chairs, small tables with all the supplies each nurse would need were set well apart from each other. At each table a registered nurse presided over immunization cards, stickers, needles and syringes, alcohol swabs and of course the vaccines. More cheerful and informative volunteers! That whole process - including the pleasantries we shared - took another five minutes. Then it was following the arrows to a waiting area with chairs properly distanced and the area staffed by more charming volunteers. We were directed to sit quietly for about 15 minutes to ensure no sudden side and untoward effects. When finished, we turned our chair to the side to indicate it needed cleaning. 

This whole Easter time event took less than thirty minutes. But, what about chocolate. There had been no candy eggs, no chocolate bunnies and we were not even given a lollypop after our ‘jab’! So it was home without a treat. But I had a solution to share with my good friend. At my kitchen table, we ate chocolate brownie pudding with ice cream, good hot coffee and topped it off with a good visit full of laughter, cell phone pictures and memories.

“If anyone or anything tries to curse or kill 

the Goodness at the Center of all things, 

it will just keep coming back to life. 

Forever Easter.”

~ David Housholder, The Blackberry Bush

Chapter One, Episode 19 - Martha - Situationally Theirs

May 24, 2020

Review, Edit and Update: 

Minor issues this morning. Some sentence structure improved. When there is dialogue, a lot or a little, I am often tempted to ‘fix’ the grammar or sentence structure. What I have learned is to think about the character and whether my proposed changes would fit with that personality. Martha just chatters on, so I just let her go. I quite like this character.

Martha

Martha had her desktop computer open for two hours and she wasn’t about to turn it off yet. Her grandchildren had pushed her ‘laugh button’ over and over again, just as she had pushed theirs. Martha hoped they never lost their 'laugh buttons'. Easter Bunny Ben was hopping about. Little Chick Abigail just stood still and went ‘Peep. Peep’. They wore the costumes she made for them for the cancelled school Easter play. Martha was certain they were playing their roles just perfectly. Fashioning a broken egg shell so Abby could put her little legs through it so she could walk around to peck and peep, had been a challenge. That egg shell had really tackled her figuring out skills. But she kept all sorts of things in her sewing room at home. Old pieces of plastic, cardboard, ribbons from Christmas presents, broken toys that couldn’t be mended and buttons. Jars of buttons. There were many more things, but unlike the pantry at the Beaufort mansion, she didn’t keep an inventory. She just knew where everything was. When she was making the Easter bunny costume, she found the Bunny ears from some other Easter play for her daughter Joanie, Ben’s mother. All she had to do was use a piece of white fleece fabric for the onesie and pop a pompom on his backside. Joanie drew a bunny face with whiskers and nose and Ben became a movie star. For Little Chick, she pulled out some bright yellow seersucker cotton for her onesie, found some pieces of orange plastic for the beak and used some of the yellow Christmas ribbons to tie it on and little Abigail became another movie star. Martha beamed. The two of them looked so cute. Still chuckling, a tear, or maybe two, slipped from her already sparkling violet eyes. Ben hopped and Abigail peeped.  Martha glanced at the kitchen clock.

“Oh my goodness. Look at the time. I told Joanie ~ that’s my daughter you know ~ that I had my supper ready. Well, my supper is ready, so I'll set my place here at the desk. I guess I can do that while she takes the children to get changed before their supper. We’re going to have supper together but not really together. We’ll sit down at our tables and say grace ~ we won’t be able to hold hands. I think it’s Ben’s turn to say grace.”

You might think there was someone else in Martha’s home with her, but no, if no one is there, she just talks to the computer. If someone ever is there, they wouldn’t get a word in edgewise anyway. For her supper, Martha had made a small ham and a small dish of scalloped potatoes for herself. Joanie made the same, but a bit more, for her small family. They both had tulips from their gardens on their tables. It was the closest they could come to being together on this Easter. They did miss going to church, but they found a church service on TV that they watched together but in their own homes. 

“The one Easter that I don’t have to be organizing for some party for Mrs. Beaufort and here we all are. Stuck in our own homes. I feel like I’m on house arrest!”

Martha chattered on to Joanie between bites of her supper. She would stop every now and then, interrupt herself to say how delicious it all tasted. “Did I ever tell you that Cook and I have a friendly little fuss about who the best cook is? Oh course, I know that Cook is and that’s why I’m only the Housekeeper. But I know one thing, and I’ll never tell Cook, but my pumpkin pie is much better. Cook has never spiced her pumpkin with the right balance of cloves and cinnamon. Did you get the pie I left you, Joanie? If you didn’t then that neighbourhood cat or one of the dogs made off with it.”

“Yes, I did get it mom, thanks. I came right out after you left and brought it in the house.” Joanie was used to her mother’s storytelling, so just let her go on. If she had something important to say or add, she chose her timing carefully. “What is it Ben?” 

“I want to ask Grandma something." He didn't wait for his mother's reply.... "Grandma, did you clean up your plate. Because if you didn’t, you can’t have your pie. See ~ my plate is real clean.” Ben held his plate up to the computer camera. “And Abby is just eating her last bite. Mom……”

“Yes, honey, I’m finishing up my supper. Why don’t you go and bring the pie over to the table. By the time you’re back, my plate will be cleaned right up.”

Martha really had no idea how much of a chatterbox she had become in the long days that she spent at home. She talked to herself about what she was going to do and when. She would hum when she got occupied with sewing or cleaning or clearing out those cupboard drawers she'd been neglecting for so long. She was used to having Cook and Brigitte to talk to when she was at work. Digby was not very conversational at all. But he is a gentleman. Not the flirty kind. Just doing his work, keeping the Upstairs running smoothly. And then there was this Upstairs and Downstairs. Martha shook her head and her otherwise pleasant face creased with a frown. It sounds like we’re in that TV series and we’re definitely not as stuck up and know it all as that lot. We just go about our business and when it’s time to go home, we do. None of this sitting around and gossiping about what’s going on Upstairs. 

As Martha was clearing up her dishes from supper, her thoughts about this Easter were that it was really not too bad. Especially considering all the troubles so many others were having theses days. She didn’t like listening to much on the radio about that nasty virus, but she did every couple of days just to keep up. She was used to ‘directing traffic’ as she called it, with the staff and helping Joanie out with the kids. She was getting restless. Her house was cleaner and tidier that it had been in a long time. Martha looked at herself in the mirror as she was getting ready for bed. What did Abby say about my face? ‘It’s crumpling, Grandma.’  Well I’m not that old, a few years past Mrs. Beaufort. Well more than a few years. Abby just patted my face and told me it was alright. That she loves me anyway.

In her bedroom, Martha turned her bedside lamp on, turned back the bedcovers, propped up her pillows and got into bed. Always a reader, she opened her book for her nightly read. Still reading at midnight, she yawned, put her book down and said out loud “Lights out.” 

“If anyone or anything tries to curse or kill the Goodness at the Center 

of all things, it will just keep coming back to life. Forever Easter.

~ David Housholder, The Blackberry Bush

Merging

Hanukkah and Christmas, 

in history and in belief ~

two spiritual pauses overlap

as year’s end draws nigh ~

an ease for family and friends.

To forget to breathe

in the pall of grief

   in a haze of shopping
 dims the candle lights

    turns up brittle noise

To take time to breathe

  gentles the pall of grief

    clears away the haze

   rests in the glow of candles

     softens into melodies of 

Hanukkah and Christmas.

“There are no clear borders,

Only merging invisible to the sight.”

~ Dejan Stojanovic, Circling 1978 -1987

Celebrating Summer

A summer celebration and a summer festival. Two excellent events on yesterday's gorgeous Sunday afternoon. 

I found, by chance, The Victoria Flamenco Festival final day at Confederation Square. It had been running from July 25 to July 28. Even in a short half hour, I listened and enjoyed the superb music and flamenco dancing. 

Our Place Society celebrated ‘….50 years of helping those most often overlooked’ with music, drumming and dancing, bubbles and balloons. People of all ages attended and enjoyed visiting this community for Sunday's lovely summer afternoon.

“The afternoon knows what the morning never suspected.”

~ Jonathan Grimwood, The Last Banquet