Lost

GPS for right hand drive!

A new staff therapist who shares my office was telling us last week how much he hates being lost. He was trying to get me to see the value of purchasing a GPS system for my car, especially because I work in the community. He doesn't know me very well yet.

I love being lost!

Perhaps I need to qualify that. I wouldn't like to be lost at sea or in a wilderness or a snow storm, but behind the wheel of my car in good weather...that is a different story. Going for a drive gives me a chance to explore. The weekend I decided to visit Lake Erie, my husband agreed to come along with us. I was driving as we started down the back roads. The bridge on our route over Highway 401 had been removed and the new one was not yet open. We took a detour on unfamiliar roads but continued to move southward. We ended up on the Six Nations Reserve and then in Caledonia. My husband was getting quite tense.

"How did we end up here? I didn't know we were coming this way!" he said.

I didn't know either, but Caledonia was on the map so we weren't lost any more. En route we had unexpectedly discovered the Pauline Johnson homestead and that made me very happy.

As a home care therapist, I am given some interesting directions to rural addresses.

"Our lane way is three cedar trees past the red barn. You can't miss it!"

One patient told me he lived on Brubacher Lane in a little town to the north. I drove through the hamlet three times and couldn't find it. I asked someone and they just laughed. Brubacher Lane was what the family had named their driveway.

Would a GPS unit know that? Not a chance!

I don't want to focus my attention on a bossy little electronic gadget when I can use my observation skills, ask questions, and develop my own sense of direction. I have been lost on the south shore of Montreal, in Nova Scotia near the Bay of Fundy, and many times closer to home. There are many things I have discovered and enjoyed while trying to find my way to a destination.

Last October I attended a conference in Hamilton, Ontario. It was a beautiful afternoon when I headed for home and I took a road across the Niagara escarpment called Fallsview Road. It sounded interesting and I had no idea where it led. I discovered four lovely cascades over Hamilton Mountain including Websters Falls pictured above. I had lived in Hamilton for over three years and never knew these beautiful falls were hidden off the beaten track.

Car rallies were a popular group activity when I was a young adult. We would divide into teams and follow obscure clues, driving all over the countryside until we arrived at the destination for a party or picnic. Getting lost was part of the fun. And we didn't even have cell phones!

Truckers and emergency personnel benefit from GPS technology, but it is not for me. Give me a map that is hard to refold, a few clues and an open road for my next adventure. The journey is my pleasure, not just the destination.

How keen is your sense of unplanned adventure?

First Frost

Yesterday we had our first ground frost of autumn, one that is sure to end the growing season for this year. I took these pictures in the rose garden at the hospital just as the sun was rising. We have enjoyed the roses here since June. I found a chart with the average frost dates for many Canadian communities. Our average first fall frost is on September 29th so this frost is one month overdue.

Global warming??

One cannot say that is true just because one year is warmer than average. Last fall was exceptionally wet and cool and we had frost in the middle of September. But there is no doubt that this summer has been hot and dry for much of eastern North America. I did some birding this weekend around one of the many kettle lakes in our area, lakes filled with water from retreating glaciers of the Ice Age. Global warming has been going on for a long time. Our large ecological footprints may be accelerating a natural phenomena.

Who knows for sure??

In August 2007, a Canadian blogger, Steve McIntyre, "turned up an error in the math NASA used to determine historic temperatures, forcing the agency to own up to an embarrassing mistake." (read the full article here)

The article discusses the top ten hottest years on record and I quote,

"Four of the top 10 are now from the 1930s: 1934, 1931, 1938 and 1939, while only 3 of the top 10 are from the last 10 years (1998, 2006, 1999). Several years (2000, 2002, 2003, 2004) fell well down the leaderboard, behind even 1900."

Doomsday prophets are popular with the press and politicians can use the fear generated by the media to gain power. I am not arguing for or against global warming, but objective observations and analytical thinking about what is presented to us by the media is essential on any topic.

Autumn Trail

I want to tell you what hills are like in October
when colors gush down mountainsides
and little streams are freighted with a caravan of leaves,
I want to tell you how they blush and turn in fiery shame


and joy,

how their love burns with flames consuming and terrible
until we wake one morning and woods are like a smoldering

plain --

a glowing caldron full of jewelled fire;
the emerald earth a dragon's eye
the poplars drenched with yellow light
and dogwoods blazing bloody red.
Travelling southward earth changes from gray rock to green velvet.

Margaret Walker
Excerpt from October Journey

(Pictures taken on the Sudden Tract Trail south of Cambridge ON)

Bible 101

I have taught Sunday School for over 30 years now, mainly to children in grades 4-6. Curriculum and Bible translations have changed and the lessons have shifted somewhat away from Bible stories to a more a general and topical emphasis. Each year I notice that the children entering my class are less and less biblically literate. I generally start the year with a little quiz to get an idea of the knowledge level of the class. This year I was greeted my blank stares when I asked simple questions about the most familiar stories. A couple of times someone said, "Oh yes, I heard that story on Veggie Tales!" This is the series that retells the story of David and Bathsheba as King George and the Rubber Ducky and the story of David and Goliath as Dave and the Giant Pickle.

I always attended secular public schools but we did say the Lord's Prayer each morning and every Friday morning we had a non-doctrinal religion class based on the Christian Bible. We studied biblical history and read the Bible as literature. Children were allowed to opt out of the class, but few did. We all knew who Adam and Eve, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, David, Solomon, Jesus and the disciples were.

A couple of years ago as I was telling a story to my class, a young girl who was visiting the church raised her hand and asked,

"What is a god?"

I was almost speechless at hearing this very sincere question. How could a child reach the age of ten and not have a god-concept? I thought that all people, religious or not had some form of god-consciousness.

I read an interesting article on CBS News from April 16, 2006. Lee Cowan quotes University of North Carolina professor, Bart Ehrman who says,

"I think for any educated person, it's absolutely essential to know something about the Bible. Whether a person is a believer or not, the Bible stands at the foundation of our form of civilization," he adds. The Bible's influence is impossible to ignore. There are more than a thousand biblical references in the works of Shakespeare alone. John Milton, Herman Melville, Ernest Hemingway all drew on the Bible, too. Then there's Rembrandt, Chagall and Da Vinci, who all put the Bible on canvas. Even the Declaration of Independence alludes to the Bible. But it's not just history -- the Bible is in pop culture as well. The movie "The Matrix" is so full of Biblical references people have written entire books about it. In the music world Kanye West raps about wanting to "see thee more clearly" in his hit, "Jesus Walks." It's even in sitcoms like "Desperate Housewives." No matter what you think of the show, Adam and Eve and the Biblical story of temptation comes into the nation's living rooms on the first school night of the week."

Author Chuck Stetson, who has written a textbook The Bible and its Influence, says,

"We are the first English speaking generation to have lost the biblical narrative. And that's amazing. And that's not right,"

Is it possible to lose knowledge this quickly? Judges 2:10 tell us that this very thing happened to the Israelites after they left Egypt under the leadership of Moses. The Message says it like this.

Eventually that entire generation died and was buried. Then another generation grew up that didn't know anything of GOD or the work he had done for Israel.

The Lord's Prayer is not repeated in schools and scripture memorization is a thing of the past. There are no religion classes in public schools any more. People are so concerned about separation of church and state that the Bible, the best selling book in history, is not even taught from a literary perspective. Can I teach a child enough about the Bible in 30 minutes a week that they will have a good grasp of its content and impact? Not likely, especially if what I say is not reinforced in their homes. One of my fondest childhood memories is of my father reading to the five of us from the book The Bible In Pictures for Little Eyes. He would read a couple of stories (with his added commentary) and we would beg him to read us another one and another one. I read the same book to our daughters.

It only takes one generation to lose the lessons of the past.

(I have read the Bible through many times and my favourite version is called The Narrated Bible (NIV) with narration by F. LeGard Smith. In this book the Bible is presented in chronological order with historical helps and references.)

Friday Flowers: Late Bloomers

I took this picture of Grandma Anne's old home yesterday. She was my husband's grandmother, a beloved lady who has been gone for many years now. A light frost was on the roof of the house as the sun was rising. This week has seen the return of fall temperatures and there are more leaves on the ground than on the trees.

But in the past few days, I have noticed a number of brave plants blooming brightly, well past the end of the growing season. Perhaps they did not get enough light earlier, and since there is less vegetation around competing for space and sun, they now have their opportunity to flower.


We are a society obsessed with youth. Many successful performers are still in their teens at the peak of their careers. Young adults work hard to find a career that is fulfilling and financially rewarding and middle aged adults may have difficulty competing in the workplace. But there are those who find their calling later in life, even after retirement.

Many writers, painters, politicians and successful business owners did not discover their talents and abilities until middle age or older. Some people have the courage and ambition take up new challenges when their peers are settling into retirement.

I see the passion for learning and growing among many bloggers I have come to know. Some are gifted writers, poets and photographers. Others express themselves in original art or write about new hobbies and skills they are learning. While others around them are wilting and drawing back from life, they reach for the light and grow and bloom.

Perhaps the late bloomer is a young person who found school a challenge. Later than most, they achieve academic success and go on to surpass those who may have disdained them in the past.

When she was little, The Becka loved the story, Leo the Late Bloomer. I read it to her many times.

"Leo the tiger couldn’t do anything right. He couldn’t read or write. He couldn’t draw, and he was a sloppy eater. Every day and every night Leo’s father watched him for signs of blooming. Then one day, in his own good time—Leo bloomed!"

Your "own good time"...my "own good time" may be just ahead somewhere!

I wrote this post early in the week and looked for pictures afterwards. This morning I notice that Jennifer and Monarch have also written posts about late blooming wildflowers. Was meant to be :-)

Northern Shovelers

Sun and cloud at the swamp

I started my day at the dentist's office having an old filling replaced. I am not a relaxed dental patient and received two shots of Novocaine so the dentist did not have to deal with my pain reactions. When I left, my face was half paralyzed leaving me lopsided and drooling from the mouth. I had to put in some time before I returned to work, preferably somewhere where people would not be around to stare at me.

So I went to the swamp.

This morning there was a light frost on the rooftops, the first frost I have noticed in this strangely warm fall season. We still have not had a killer frost. The sky was full of big grey clouds and the sun broke through occasionally creating dramatic lighting.

The swamp was missing some old regulars like the Great Blue Herons and the Kingfishers. The Wood Ducks and Northern Pintails have moved on and the regular Canada Geese and Mallards are still around. The bushes were full of Goldfinches and Juncos, the latter having returned here earlier this month. I scanned the water with my binoculars and notice some strange beaks. From a distance, these ducks could be mistaken for Mallards, but up close the difference was clear. They were far out in the swamp, but my pictures were good enough to make an ID.

I left the swamp once I was able to close my mouth and visited a nursing home nearby. I could identify with my patients who had suffered strokes and had facial weakness and swallowing difficulties. Going to the dentist was very rewarding;- a repaired tooth and a new bird for my list!

Lake Erie

I have lived near the Great Lakes for most of my life. When I lived in Toronto, Lake Ontario was often in view and I have travelled the length of this lake's north shore often. I have seen some of the south shore in New York State as well. We spent many summer weekends and holidays on the shores of Lake Huron and have travelled to the Michigan side of this lake several times. My husband and I drove along the north shore of Lake Superior one summer as far as Thunder Bay Ontario. I have never seen Lake Michigan and realized to my surprise this summer that I had never seen Lake Erie. My husband has fished on this lake frequently, but I do not enjoy being 10 to 20 miles from shore in a smallish boat.

The Grand River winds through our region and eventually empties into Lake Erie at Port Maitland near Dunnville. One weekend at the end of this summer, we drove along the Grand River Scenic Parkway which starts south of Brantford, all the way to the lake. I will describe the Grand River later, but for now, here is a poem by Pauline Johnson, the native Canadian poet I wrote about previously here. She lived on the banks of the Grand River and undoubtedly stood here where the river meets the lake.

And I waved across the lake to my blogging friends on the south shores.

ERIE WATERS

Pauline Johnson

A dash of yellow sand,
Wind-scattered and sun-tanned;
Some waves that curl and cream along
the margin of the strand;
And, creeping close to these
Long shores that lounge at ease,
Old Erie rocks and ripples to a fresh sou'western breeze.

A sky of blue and grey;
Some stormy clouds that play
At scurrying up with ragged edge, then laughing blow away,
Just leaving in their trail
Some snatches of a gale;
To whistling summer winds we lift a single daring sail.

O! wind so sweet and swift,
O! danger-freighted gift
Bestowed on Erie with her waves that foam and fall and lift,
We laugh in your wild face,
And break into a race
With flying clouds and tossing gulls that weave and interlace.

The Birds

Grand River at Preston

On Saturday I walked a trail I had not been on since ragweed season in August. (This is the trail of the Giant Ragweed) It was a very windy day and generally overcast until noon. I had my camera in the case most of the time and just used my binoculars. There were a number of birds in the low berry producing shrubs along the river bank. I stood in one area and was surrounded by many different species including chickadees, downy woodpeckers, robins, cardinals, yellow rumped warblers, golden-crowned kinglets, a hermit thrush, fox sparrow, white-throated sparrows, and a group of tree swallows. I believe I saw so many birds because I was not concentrating on taking pictures.

The trail opens up to a flood plain where a small creek, full of minnows, empties into the Grand River. Many thistles have grown here and the grasses and wildflowers have gone to seed. In this area there were mallards, geese, and gulls, one GB heron, a kingfisher (being hotly pursued by a gull), and two black-crowned night herons! In the thistles was a flock of LBJs and I did take out my camera so I could ID them later. I had difficulty finding a matching sparrow in my guide books and then started looking at female birds. I had taken pictures of female purple finches, a bird I have never seen before. They are supposed to be common here, but all I see are house finches. Where were the bright coloured males? I know I would have recognized them.

Purple Finch

When I got home, Becka informed me that the AMC channel was featuring Alfred Hitchcock movies for the entire day. The Birds was going to be on in the evening.

Bad memories....

I was twelve years old when I started babysitting for neighbours. I was easily frightened by the thought of intruders and had never been exposed to horror or suspense in movies. In fact, we never had a TV at home when I was growing up. After my young charges were in bed, I started to watch The Birds and was quickly frozen in horror to my chair. The images of the bird attacks gave me nightmares for a long time.

Tippi Hedren in The Birds

When we moved to our current home, we had a problem with starlings coming down our chimney into the house. I remember coming home one day and having a starling fly up at me from behind the kitchen table. I ran out of the house and called for help from a neighbour's home. The effects of the movie lived on in me.

Well, my very media-savvy daughter told me that Alfred Hitchcock had a message for his audience in The Birds. It could be full of Cold War imagery or be a commentary on human abuse of birds, from caging them to eating them. I should watch it to see if it was still scary.

Black-crowned Night Heron at Toronto Island
Picture taken by my cousin Michele, (Sam's mom)

Well, I did watch it and it didn't scare me this time. But what would it be like if the birds rose up against us because of the way some people treat them and their habitat? I thought of the stream where the Black-crowned Night Herons had been and the grocery cart and garbage dumped there by thoughtless people. Few of us would tolerate someone doing that to our home.

Home of the Black-crowned Night Heron at Preston

Thankfully, there are many people who care about the environment. We just have to get the message to some more of the others.

Canadian Raptor Conservancy

Barn Owl

At the opening of the Huron Natural Area this past weekend, the Canadian Raptor Conservancy held a demonstration. I visited a raptor rehabilitation centre at the Mountsberg Conservation Area earlier this year, but the birds were caged and only one Barn Owl made an appearance at a small show.

Red-tailed Hawk

The birds in this demonstration were not injured or rescued, but had been captive bred. The wind was strong and gusty, but the hawks and falcons were able to do some free flying. James Cowan is the director of the conservancy and he did the demonstration with some help from his young son. It was an educational and entertaining show and I enjoyed seeing these beautiful birds at close range.

Juvenile Bald Eagle (2 years old)

Earlier that morning I met a birder along the Grand River who was eager to tell me that he had just seen an immature Bald Eagle in a tree on the opposite bank with his scope. Bald Eagles do not nest in our region, but increasing numbers of them are wintering along the river. This man was part of a group that monitors their movements and reports sightings to the Ministry of Natural Resources. James Cowan showed the audience a juvenile male Bald Eagle. I really hope to see one this winter.

American Kestrel

The American Kestrel is a very beautiful falcon. I remember it being called a Sparrow Hawk, but it is not a hawk and has been renamed. The flight feathers are brilliant. We had one in our neighbourhood this spring, but I have not seen any around over the summer.

Harris Hawk

This last bird is a veteran and has starred in several Hollywood movies. The Harris Hawk is not found in Canada, but is native to the American south-west and Mexico. This bird was a seasoned performer. But an unexpected gust of wind carried him off into a bush in an adjacent property. The director's young son went running across the field and over a fence and coaxed the bird back with some meat.


The Harris Hawk sat on the head of this young father in the audience. Apparently, their stance is very gentle and light as they are accustomed to standing on spiny cactus plants.

The shows were repeated hourly throughout the afternoon and many children and adults had the opportunity to learn about birds of prey. After the show, someone pointed out a Sharp-shinned Hawk overhead in pursuit of a small bird. That hunting display was for real, and the hawk did not gain a meal that time. The presence of these birds of prey is an indicator of the health of the local environment. The Barn Owl is now extirpated in Ontario due to loss of habitat. It is unable to hunt for small rodents in fields that are densely planted with corn and soybeans. The more we see and learn about these magnificent birds, the more we should care about preserving their habitats.

The Huron Natural Area

Beaver Pond

Our city continues to expand quickly, with ugly subdivisions springing up in many places and acres of farmland being sold to developers. Lots are smaller, houses higher and architectural diversity is absent. Much talk goes on about rejuvenating the downtown and improving public transit as the suburbs demand the use of cars, but people continue to want a suburban lifestyle.

Yesterday, I walked along a river trail and when I drove home, I was shocked at the development that has occurred over the summer. Then I noticed a sign pointing to a new nature area that was advertising a grand opening that afternoon. This area is only 4 km from our home and is on the edge of an industrial park. I followed the signs and came upon The Huron Natural Area. What a pleasant surprise it was to find this 360 acre diverse natural area in the midst of new homes and industry.

Walkway across the pond and Strasburg Creek

The city partnered with the public and Catholic school boards and the University of Waterloo in the development of the site. So far there are about 4 km of groomed trails, some paved for wheelchair accessibility. There are other footpaths to walk that are not maintained and the area has meadow, wetlands, forests, a stream and large beaver pond to explore. Wooden walkways have been built over sensitive waterways and marsh areas. Yesterday there were guided tours, a raptor demonstration and a number of booths set up to show the diversity of plant, aquatic and animal life in the area.

White Pines on the left of the trail

A stand of White Pine was planted here many years ago. This non-native species is host to a number of diseases and other conservation areas are planning to remove the trees. The trail guide pointed out that while this stand remains healthy, we now know the dangers of planting one type of tree, especially a non-native species, when the ecological health of the forest depends on having a variety of vegetation. As an example, the beaver here have run out of their favoured softwoods and have been trying to take down much larger hardwood trees.

This afternoon, we took Dakota for his first longer walk in a while. We covered 2.4 kms on the trails and the dog is tired but happy. The city will continue to grow, but I am encouraged to see interest in the natural preservation of a large tract of land within the city limits.

(The last two pictures are taken by The Becka)

Addendum ~ I posted some pictures of this place on my Flickr page and a local contact, Snapshotmom, left this excellent comment. It does pay to be involved in the community.

"I have worked on a committee at least 12 years ago at City Hall to save the area and attended an input workshop on the area last spring. We are so lucky to have this in our community. My only hope is that people will respect what has been given to them, to embrace as a place of interest and solitude. As an outdoor ed centre, many children will now have a place to learn about our environment and the need to protect what nature has to offer. I love that a great part of the pond area is wheelchair accessible for those that usually aren't able to reach these areas."

Dakota Update

Being old and sick can have its perks!

I love my homemade food and now go to the fridge rather than the cupboard when I want a treat. No one has yelled at me lately for barking, in fact everyone seems happy that I am making a racket again. My medicine is always wrapped in something tasty. I even got a new blanket to sleep on. I hope someone takes me out in the car soon and for a nice walk on a trail.

Life is good for this dog!

Friday Flowers: Fall Crocus

Colchicum autumnale

autumn crocus, naked lady, meadow saffron

This lovely fall surprise blooms
after the plant's leaves have withered away.
Its spring-like beauty is in contrast to the
autumn reds, oranges and golds of our trees and shrubs.
We all have met people who still bloom
like a fresh spring flower as they get older.
This poem by Robert Browning inspired
a song with a similar title by John Lennon.
And the fall crocus illustrates both poems beautifully.

Grow Old along with Me

Robert Browning

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith "A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half;
trust God: see all, nor be afraid!"

Grow Old With Me

John Lennon

Grow old along with me
The best is yet to be
When our time has come
We will be as one
God bless our love
God bless our love

Grow old along with me
Two branches of one tree
Face the setting sun
When the day is done
God bless our love
God bless our love

Spending our lives together
Man and wife together
World without end
World without end

Grow old along with me
Whatever fate decrees
We will see it through
For our love is true
God bless our love
God bless our love

Women in Canadian Literary History

Catherine Parr Traill on far left, 1899

I met a new blogger today, Mary from Ontario, Canada. In reading her recent posts, I found out that October is Women's History Month in Canada. I had been saving this post for a few weeks and finally found a focus for it. Grandma was an avid collector of books written by Canadian authors. I now have her books and have shared the volume of poems by Pauline Johnson in a previous entry. I have the books written by Nellie McClung and the classic pioneer volume, Roughing it in the Bush by Susannah Moodie.

Susannah Moodie and her sister, Catherine Parr Traill moved to Canada with their Scottish husbands in 1832. They were professional writers before their marriages and they recorded their experiences as pioneers in several books that are now important volumes of Canadian literary history. These women were truly remarkable! They had a genteel British upbringing, but tackled the tough life in the Canadian bush with energy and enthusiasm. They had a keen interest in the natural environment and Catherine became a respected botanist. The picture of the goldfinches on the left was drawn by Susannah Moodie.

We recently had an elderly patient on our unit who was a great-granddaughter of Catherine Parr Traill. She was always quick to tell us about her famous family and counted herself a naturalist as well. As she became stronger, she loved to walk outdoors on the grounds of the hospital, looking at birds and flowers. We allowed her to do this during her therapy sessions as often as possible and she had many stories to tell from the past. I printed her family tree from the internet and she was delighted to tell me about her various family members. One of her favourite stories was about being "treed by a bear" when berry picking with three maiden aunts. She recognized the cottage in the first picture, and while she never met Catherine Parr Traill, she knew the aunts in the photo. It was delightful to meet someone connected so closely with notable women of Canadian history!


The website of the Library and Archives, Canada has a very interesting section on these two women. Here is a list of some of their books.

Catherine Parr Traill.

Sketches from Nature; or, Hints to Juvenile Naturalists
The Backwoods of Canada
Canadian Wild Flowers
Studies of Plant Life in Canada
Pearls and Pebbles: Notes of an Old Naturalist

Susannah Moodie

Roughing It in the Bush
Life in the Clearings
Patriotic Songs

Remembering Pa

Standing between his parents, around the mid-1920's

Twenty years ago today, my father-in-law had the heart attack that ended his life. I remember the day clearly and can hardly believe so much time has passed. He had been admitted to a regional cardiac centre located 90 minutes from our home and was booked to have bypass surgery. We travelled there on a Saturday afternoon to visit him, but when we arrived, I could tell by the look on the faces of the staff that something unexpected had happened. He had a cardiac arrest earlier in the day and was already gone. We drove home again in shocked silence.

Wedding Day

He was "Pa" to his grandchildren. Born in 1918 during the Spanish Influenza epidemic, he was the youngest in a family who farmed in the area, a family descended from the Mennonites who came from Europe in the 18th century. His ancestors, along with others from Pennsylvania, moved to Waterloo County around 1800. He learnt the value of hard work early and his work ethic brought him much success as a business man and entrepreneur in the city. While his business kept him occupied much of the time, family was very important to him. He worked along with his cousin in tracing the family tree back to their roots in Switzerland. His tough exterior softened greatly when he was with his grandchildren and he was a doting grandfather.

While he moved to the city at the age of 12, he always had the farm and a love of the outdoors in his heart. An avid fisherman, he and my husband went on many, many fishing trips. A few months before he died in 1987, they went on the fishing trip of their dreams and flew into Great Slave Lake in the North West Territories to catch lake trout of legendary proportions. He also was a hunter and loved to create tasty dishes with venison, moose and duck meat. I never ate game meat before I met the family and probably was the only person at university who had moose burgers for supper.

Today our daughter works as a registered nurse on the very floor of the hospital where her grandfather died. She cares for people who have had cardiac surgery and has a keen interest in that speciality. Pa would be so proud of her! And he can be proud of the rest of his children and grandchildren who remember him fondly, especially today.

My sister-in-law put this in our local paper today.

C.P. KINZIE August 20, 1918 - October 17, 1987
For a very special father,
grandfather and great-grandfather.
Gone for 20 years but never forgotten.
You will forever remain alive and well in our hearts.
Much love, your family.