Musing

my god - your traveling into my homeland. There is quite the history up there. They used to run these marvelous boats up the Peace River (no roads then) and the service was linen tablecloths and silver. A man by the name of Louie Bourassa took the mail for years via dog team from Peace River to Ft. Vermilion (some 300 miles) and actually got an OBE (Order British Empire) for his perseverance - he was my grandmother's brother. His son, Johnny Bourassa ran one of the river boats. If you get to Hay River be sure to take Gusta to the lake and build a bonfire. Its wonderful. I went to school in Hay River and then to Akaitcho Hall in Yellowknife for my high school. I believe they have or are tearing it down now. My brother, Tony Bittman, is buried in the town graveyard. My cousin, Johnny Bourassa, a bush pilot, was lost up there and the NWT conducted one of the biggest searches in its history to no avail. They finally found the plane with his note that he was walking out but never his body. Regards and good luck on your northern trip., DJ, Edmonton

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Mark – Make a point to plan that trip you never took with Tony, in memory of him. I had plans to take a trip to Australia with a very close 80 year old Australian acquaintance. She came down with an illness this past month. As I laid in bed Saturday feeling sorry for myself she passed away. I will be taking that trip next summer in memory of her. Get planning that trip Mark! VBL-Englewood, Colorado

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Home is where humour gentlly teases, with lightness and joy -- in you. Home is where you strive to be part of a great thing. It is a place that is forgiving if you cry and unforgiving if you're crying for nothing. Home is a place where there are judgments without words and words without judgment. In a home, there are battles, with understanding, battles to understand. There are hugs, always, in a home. When I picture my home, I feel it light my eyes because it is what is behind everything I am and everything I do. This week it is that my daughter is going back to school. Last summer, it was because my hounddog didn't die of poiisoning. Tonight, it is a grownup bottlefed cat, waking me up because he's afraid of the coyotes. Yesterday, it was a great day for me in the market. Tomorrow, I hope my feeling of home will be an undisturbed day in the garden. I never wanted the cat. I never wanted the horses in the pasture. I love it all. Everyone demands because each gives so much. With no conscious thought. Without reprisal. With love, knowing safety., VJP, Dewinton