A Train Watchers Ideal Layover

by barbstruestories, posted in Uncategorized

Our second last day of train travel we spent six hours at the Buffalo/Depew train depot. It was a mild October day and Mick spent most of the time outside on the bench watching trains go by on one of the four tracks. Unless you are a train watcher (some call train lovers ‘foamers’) you might not know that waiting for trains to appear can be a boom or bust experience. You could wait at a spot for hours and not see one train or…..you could spend several hours at the Buffalo/Depew depot and see…not one..not two…but seventeen! Jackpot-for those in the know! Meanwhile the non train watcher is able around the train depot many times, over to the local Tim Horton’s to buy coffee and generally watch the world go by.

Westbound CSX mixed freight train
Westbound CSX intermodal train

Did you know NYC ships some its garbage via train to Ohio and other states? One of the trains that went by was an empty NYC garbage train.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/New_York_City_waste_management_system#Waste_export

The Ups and Downs of Long Distance Train Travel

by barbstruestories, posted in Travel

This is day three of four for us in our trip from Whitefish MT to Ottawa ON.

We arrived in Chicago last night with about 20 minutes to spare before we were called to board the Lakeshore Limited Train overnight to Buffalo, NY. The dining car on the train was nifty. The food was prepackaged but not as nicely presented as it was on the Empire Builder.

The Lakeshore Limited Dining Car

We had a 12 hour train ride and arrived in Buffalo around 9 am local this morning.

Herman the Buffalo (at least that’s what he told me his name was). Buffalo, NY

The train depot is in an industrial area some distance from downtown. There is one other person sitting in the waiting room that holds about 100 people. We are on a main rail line and it’s a pleasant day outside so the train watcher in our family is out there watching trains go by.

Waiting for trains to go by.
Holding a dime for scale

After sleeping two days and two nights on the train, my take on it is: treat it as an experience, be prepared for delays and for the waiting times between trains. There are +’s and -‘s compared to other modes of travel. It’s great to have a ticket where your meals are included and you just need to weave your way through cars to a dining room. A ticket in a sleeper car let’s you get into your pj’s and into bed for overnight travel however once the porter has made down your beds (either a double bottom or double on the bottom and single bunk at the top), there is little room to manoeuvre, to get to the sink, to get out the door into the hall (without crawling on the mattress) and to get into the bathroom. If you don’t have some degree of flexibility getting up the ladder and into the top bunk would be a challenge. That said we both had very good sleeps last night as the train hurtled along at speeds up to 70mph. The shower set up is only for the brave. Packing light and in a small suitcase makes things easier.

There is a quietness about train travel. The station is quiet. There are fewer announcements and no oxygen mask demonstrations. As far as carbon footprint, the train trumps air travel. You get to see lots of countryside and if the train doesn’t have WiFi you get to remember a world where you weren’t always connected.

The Secret To Train Travel

by barbstruestories, posted in Travel

We are about six hours out of Chicago and will hopefully be only three hours delayed rather than five hours (our original delay yesterday). As we walk back and forth to the dining car we pick up all manner of conversations. Today the seasoned conductor was speaking to a couple who were bemoaning the delay and what would be a missed connection to their next train. The conductor, in a voice that carried most of the car, said “The secret to train travel is to leave a day early.”

The food and service in the dining car have been very good. The accommodation (a bedroom) is compact. We have our own bathroom and if you don’t mind having a shower while sitting on the toilet (lid closed you know) then you could shower too. There are bunks for sleeping and thankfully no pictures of a 70+ year old climbing up to the bed above. Sleeping in a rolling, rocking train is it’s own thing.

We’ve chatted with a rodeo cowboy who checked his saddle with the luggage (on his way to a big rodeo in Fargo). He was the real thing and sported luggage and jacket that said he’d been in the finals in a rodeo at another time. There was a couple from Iowa who flew to the west coast of USA to catch the train and ride it east, a younger man who worked for a non-profit who was paying for him to go to college, and a retired man who had ridden trains all over the US and visited 20 countries. Most of the people we’ve sat with (communal sitting) in the dining car are doing this for the experience.

We just went by Red Wing MN. If you own a pair of Red Wing shoes, this is where the family company started and is business to this day.

Empire Builder Whitefish MT
Flathead River east of Whitefish
The Observation Car
The Bedroom/Sitting in the Sleeper Car

Waiting for the Empire Builder

by barbstruestories, posted in Travel, Uncategorized
Vintage train station Whitefish Montana
The leaves got tired waiting for the train and fell to the ground

G.K. Chesterton wrote “The only way of catching a train I ever discovered was to miss the train before.” We think he was right. We’ve yet to start our train journey as Amtrak’s Empire Builder train is delayed two, no three, no four and now five hours, maybe. Rail traffic is stopped to the west because of a disabled freight train and to the west by a freight train derailment.

Well, let’s see, that gives time to stroll in Whitefish MT and have an early morning coffee and breakfast. We can sit at a vintage table in the vintage station and read the news and write a blog and be grateful that we’ve got the freedom to travel. There may be some missed connections in our future. Oh well.

Here are some pictures from around the station in Whitefish.

Born 100 years ago today

by barbstruestories, posted in Uncategorized

She would be 100 years old today.  March 18th is our mother’s birthdate.  She was never much interested in disclosing the year of her birth.  I do think though, if she’d been granted more than 52 years of life and she had lived to 100 years, she’d crow about it.  

Mom was born in a section house (a company house for railroad workers-usually section foreman) in McLean, SK on March 18, 1922.  I wish I’d asked her more questions about her life, or maybe it’s more accurate to say wish I’d listened more when she told stories of her life.  

Her given name was Clarice Marie Mish and she never much cared for her first name.  She signed her name as Claire instead.  Her childhood was spent in Wolseley, SK and much of it during the depression when money was scarce.  Add to that her father was very seriously injured in a freak accident leaving her mother, a Polish immigrant, to raise 6 children by cleaning homes, working in the laundry at the “old folks” home and squeezing every dollar until it cried out for mercy.  

She was the best of moms to three daughters, a hard working wife and partner on a small mixed farm in southern Saskatchewan and someone who found joy in the everyday of life.  She had so many sayings that we carried with us into adulthood and now our children carry into theirs and so it goes.  

Happy Birthday Mom

Claire Marie Mish

 

 

 

The Magnetic Shopping List

by barbstruestories, posted in Life during the pandemic, Life's observations

Have you also heard historians and genealogy people say we should be writing up accounts of our experience of living through (or so far at least) the COVID 19 pandemic?  If we’d kept a record from the early days depending on where you live and the luck of your draw  it might start out with bewilderment, disbelief, and a range of thought that would vacillate between “we are all going to die” to “it’s not that bad” to “maybe it will magically disappear” to “life as we knew it will never be again”.   Now, for us at least, its acceptance, not planning much beyond the end of the current week, being some numbed by all the news from local to worldwide and an appreciation of the months we’ve had where we could get outside easily.

One thing that takes time is laying in supplies.  Where it used to be a matter of getting in the car and going to the store with some online buying, now we have stopped going to most stores, we use online shopping and like so many others, the delivery services are often at our door.

Even with this narrowed alley of life experiences these days, we find things to do.  We keep a grocery list on the fridge and we were down to its last page.  A few days ago I sat down to buy a magnetic shopping list. I should have set a timer to see how long the whole thing took, but let’s say 90 minutes+.

It went like this:

  • Decide to shop local-Staples (at least local people work there) has a list that will do
  • Sign up for an account
  • Select my favourite store but every time I go to order my favourite store reverts to one 400 km away
  • Website keeps asking me to turn on location services, I try to get around that but finally throw the damn thing a bone and turn on location services for this purchase
  • Same bloody thing, can’t order locally
  • Try a different device-no luck
  • Call the store to see if they have the product (the store 400km away does) and yes they do.  May I order on the phone from you?  No.  Staffer says, try refreshing the screen, there’s trouble with the website.  
  • Back to try it all over again.  No go.  I try the online chat with Staples-quick response-the service agent, says Safari doesn’t work well with their website, try Chrome.  Arrggghh, I don’t use Chrome, I use Safari.  Another option is to phone a 1-800 number. 
  • Now I am tired of the whole thing and think, why don’t I just remove the magnetic back from our current almost depleted list and glue it on to a pad of paper and bingo, we will have a new shopping list for the fridge.

I rifle around in a draw that holds pads of paper and what do I find at the bottom? A magnetic shopping list.

 

 

 

 A small example of where times goes during a pandemic.

Florence Thomas

by barbstruestories, posted in Uncategorized

Florence Alice Thomas, 90

Born July 21, 1927 McLean, SK., died May 3, 2018 Edmonton, AB of natural causes.

Wife, mother, family connector, unabashed inquisitor, good soul

Florence Mish was so small when she was born she slept in a shoe box. While she remained small in stature throughout her life, her persona was loomed large.

Florence and her siblings were raised in Wolseley, SK. Their father was injured in his prime and her mother Mary, a Polish immigrant was left to support a family of 7 with no assistance. Florence’s childhood was shaped by the responsibilities of pulling weeds, washing clothes, tending animals, cooking supper and a fair amount of ‘make your own fun’. With her brother Ed, they got up to all manner of rascal-type activity during their early years. They would remove a lightbulb from its socket in their bedroom and see who could stick their finger up highest without getting a shock. Florence regaled us all with stories of their childhoods.

In the spring of 1950 Florence and a few girlfriends were traveling by car along the TransCanada highway east of Wolseley. They noticed the railway tracks had been washed out by high spring run-off. They ran along the tracks, flagged down an approaching train and prevented a derailment. After working as an early telephone operator, Florence married Jack Thomas. He was a carpenter who built many residences and commercial buildings in Wolseley. Jack joined Beaver Lumber and with their sons Brian and Larry in tow, they traveled to locations throughout Saskatchewan and Alberta building Beaver Lumber stores. They eventually settled in Edmonton. Jack died in 1985Florence’s love and generosity were ever present. Her home was filled with warmth, good natured conversation and good humour. Florence served delicious meals, often with a nod to her Polish heritage. We hoped her cabbage rolls and perogies would appear at the table. She found joy in everyday life, in visits with family and friends, growing a garden, canning produce, cooking and sewing. And could she sew. Once when complimented on the lovely tailored garments she made, she responded with characteristic humour and self-deprecation “Every time I take on a project I think of something new and stupid to do.”

Florence worked for the International Union of Operating Engineers Local 955 in Edmonton for over 20 years and once retired she volunteered for the West Division of Edmonton Police Service. She was never a timid person and always spoke her mind. Florence wouldn’t shy away from asking the awkward social or personal questions many of us think of but never voice. And when she asked one of those questions of others, we might squirm slightly but then we’d lean in to hear the response. You knew though, if she asked those questions of you, you were sunk.  

Florence was a great family connector, keeping in touch far and wide. Florence remembered birthdays and anniversaries and whenever she could she’d travel to join in the gathering. She liked a party and was everyone’s favorite aunt.

In her memory we will strive to carry some of her spirit, vitality, directness and love of a good time in all of us.

    
Written by Holly Day and Barb Shea, Florence’s nieces

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Today We Celebrate 15,695 Days

by barbstruestories, posted in Anniversary, Life's observations

Today we celebrate 15,695 days together, or another way of looking at it is to divide the days by 365 (yes I know I didn’t factor in leap years but hopefully you’ll cut me some slack) and that is 43 years.  It was November 9, 1974, a Saturday 43 years ago we were married.  We were reminiscing a bit today about our wedding.  What time exactly did we get married?  Neither of us can remember off the top of our heads.  I could go look at our wedding book but that would mean stirring from this chair.

We talked about how many people who were at the wedding have since died and how many people in our lives now were not born 43 years ago.  It’s time like these I reflect on all the wonderful people we know and have known.  People who have sat around our dining table or we have sat around theirs.  We are rich in family and in friends.  We have, together, lived through experiences that have brought joy to our hearts and some that have broken our hearts.  Our wedding day was filled with joy and sorrow.  The joy of a wedding, the sorrow of a visit to the hospital where my mother was dying.  We had moved our wedding day ahead hoping she might attend but that was not to be.  When I think of it now I wonder how my Dad coped that day.  His sense of humour never left him though.  After the ceremony he accompanied us to the hospital to visit Mom and as we all passed the admitting desk, he looked at the clerk and at me in my wedding dress and said “Would you please give us directions to the maternity ward?”

We have lived through a lot together, the two of us and we are blessed in so many ways. We give thanks for our family, our friends and our good fortune, probably not as often as we should.  There’s not a joke or story that we can tell each other that we likely have told one another before.  Some stories and opinions or theories are repeated over and over (mostly in his case of course).  In conversation with others one of us can start a story and turn to the other who will finish it.  

And to those who say ‘there is nothing new under the sun’, well that’s just wrong.  Something new happened today, some 15,695 days after our wedding.  We traditionally buy anniversary cards for each other.  Today would be our 83rd and 84th card purchase (starting with our first anniversary). And something new happened today.  Below are the cards we bought each other.   If we’d known, we could have saved some money and both signed the same card.

 

 

 

The Blogger Who Went Missing and Can’t Stay On Topic

by barbstruestories, posted in Observations, Travel

Tomorrow I am going to meet with friends to talk about blogging.  It is not easy to keep writing blogs over time.  Some of it might be the knowledge that if you slow down and then stop blogging you may find out no one really cares.  I recall a segment in one of Garrison Keillor’s CD’s (it was a tape when I first heard it), The Young Lutheran’s Guide to the Orchestra.   He talks about hosting a university radio program on classical music.  He took it on mostly to impress a girl he admired but had never spoken to.  He screwed up his courage and asked her, one day, if she listened to the program and she said “All the time”.  The next day the sound engineer told him there had been a transmitter problem and the show had basically not gone out over the waves for several months. And no listener had called in to ask why.  In other words, no one missed him.

Blogging, is sort of like that.  It might be fun while you do it but when you quit, well, unless you’ve got a special talent or topic or you’re a celebrity, no one misses you.  That said, I am happy to share the little I know about blogging with others who plan to use the platform for good things.  Their interest has piqued mine.  I went so far as to change the picture from a winter scene (it hasn’t been winter for months) to one that looks like Gros Morne Park in Newfoundland at this time of year.

Since I haven’t blogged for so long I need to refresh my memory of how to do things and so will end with a totally unrelated (to the topic above) series of photos.   We were on a road trip to Eastern Canada earlier this month.  We logged 5700 km in two weeks traveling and sightseeing in New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia.  Not long into the trip I started to take pictures of the salt and pepper shakers. Don’t ask me why.  I wish I’d thought of it one day earlier as I missed the little white Eiffel Tower set in Edmundston, NB. And so, to the seasonings of the Maritime provinces. 

And if there is anyone out there reading this, let me know.