Prairie Veterinarian Tells Entertaining Stories of his Work with Animals and Their Humans

In April 2021, I received an email from Dr. Gary Hoium, a veterinarian in Weyburn, Saskatchewan. Gary had begun writing amusing, intriguing, and insightful stories about his decades of experiences as a mixed-animal veterinarian. He asked me about the possibility of publishing those stories.

We met a couple months later in my backyard in Regina. 

 

We immediately felt a connection. Aside from the fact that Prairie people are generally friendly folks who are community oriented and have great stories, people from the Weyburn area have occupied a special spot in my heart for decades.

The first book I ever wrote was Just a Bunch of Farmers: The Story of Weyburn Inland Terminal, 1976-2001. That book project was so much fun and the people I interviewed for that book so terrific that it encouraged me to seek out more Prairie stories that should be made into book form. Since then, I have jokingly blamed the Weyburn Inland Terminal folks for the more than 70 books I've since published (written by myself and other Prairie authors) which cover my work and living spaces.😄 

So, yes, Weyburn people and their stories will always be of particular interest to me.

But back to that day last June...

While in my backyard, Dr. Gary Hoium and I discussed his numerous stories and the ways we visualized his book taking shape. We went to work immediately and planned to have a book in our hands by that fall for pre-Christmas gift buying. The timeline was tight, but we did it.

With the help of a co-editor (Gary's niece Courtney Hinz), a cover designer, and several publisher colleagues and consultants, we released Don't They Kick When You Do That? Stories of a Prairie Veterinarian in October 2021. The book has already been so popular that we are considering reprinting this fall.

What's in the book and why is it so wonderful? Let's hear from the author himself.

This is what Dr. Gary Hoium wrote for a "Read My Book" piece in the Regina Leader-Post's QC Magazine:

“How long did it take you to write this book?” a young lady asked at a recent book signing.

Looking up, I smiled. “About 40 years,” I replied.

She laughed.

Ride along and accompany me on my journey as a mixed-animal, rural Saskatchewan veterinarian.

My book has been called “an enlightening, humorous, intriguing, educational compilation of true adventures, experiences, mishaps and rousing successes that are sure to captivate and entertain.”

If you love animals… this book is for you. If you ever owned a pet or owned, managed or cared for livestock of any kind… this book is for you. If you ever had any thoughts or wonderment as to what a life (possibly even your own life) might have been like as a rural Prairie veterinarian… this book is for you. Your farmer/rancher dad or husband doesn’t read books? Based on many testimonials, he will read this one, laugh a lot, and love it!

As veterinarians, we are tasked with serving all the medical, surgical and welfare needs of a very diverse animal kingdom. Our motto: “If you do no good… do no harm.”

Learn how one evening, a clump of four grey fox squirrels, entangled and stuck tightly together by their tails, taught me the importance of compassion. The story went viral across our nation in days.

Extracting porcupine quills from a German shepherd resulted in my painted portrait, me in my green scrub suit, being distributed in a book worldwide.

You can live in my boots through the most fearful, dangerous, and stressful noon hour of my career when an 1800-pound, wild-eyed, aggressive bull escaped my inner-city clinic and landed in a resident’s backyard. Flanked by an elementary school on one side and a comprehensive high school on another, students (targets) aplenty, this had the very real potential to turn out REAL BAD!

You will be introduced to a couple of compelling real-life characters. Terrible Terry … or was he? As an experienced “jailbird” fighting personal demons, he frequented our clinic and befriended me, and ultimately, me him despite many crazy encounters.

Cousin Jimmy will leave you laughing and craving more.

From cattle to hogs, cats to dogs, the creatures and the men and women who love them have wormed their way into my heart and my stories.

And do they kick when I do that? The surprising answer is .....?

Don’t They Kick When You Do That by Dr. Gary Hoium is available from www.driverworks.ca, McNally Robinson Booksellers, Chapters/ Indigo/ Coles, Handmade Saskatchewan gift shops, SaskBooks, Amazon, and other select stores.

Students learn about Reconciliation from Mistasiniy: Buffalo Rubbing Stone book by Mary Harelkin Bishop

Saskatoon author and educator Mary Harelkin Bishop wrote Mistasiniy: Buffalo Rubbing Stone with the hope that it would give readers of all ages a better idea of the concept of reconciliation - a path of respectfulness between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people in Canada.

It has been gratifying to see the book receive awards at the Purple Dragonfly Book Awards and Hollywood Book Awards, but the greatest gifts have come when students and teachers send messages about what they learned from reading this book.

Mistasiniy: Buffalo Rubbing Stone tells the story of Danny, who lives on a family farm homesteaded by his great-great-grandparents, and Zach, a Cree boy who lives in the nearby town. When their Grade 6 teacher assigns a Canadian heritage project in which students must write about their family histories, Danny is paired with Zach, the only Indigenous boy in the class. At first, Danny and Zach can’t seem to get along. Then Danny finds out that his great-great-grandmother’s journal talks of breaking the land and building and living in a sod house. She also tells of how the First Nations people in the area helped her save her infant son’s life by using traditional medicines when he was very sick. The more Danny digs into his family’s history, the more he realizes that his and Zach’s pasts are complicated and connected.

A Grade 5/6 classroom in Saskatoon recently read Mistasiniy: Buffalo Rubbing Stone and used a Literature Circles learning format. In images sent via a PowerPoint slideshow, the teacher shared with us what the class learned from this important book:

Students learned about Reconciliation from Mistasiniy: Buffalo Rubbing Stone book

Some of the valuable lessons the students learned from Mistasiniy: Buffalo Rubbing Stone by Mary Harelkin Bishop are:

•        People can change.
•          You should give everyone a second chance.
•          Every child is different and has unique experiences.
•          Everyone’s culture, race, and religion is valuable.
•          Don’t judge someone based on their past.
•          Everyone makes mistakes.
•          We learned about marginalization and how it harmed Indigenous Peoples.
•          It is important to learn about the true history of Canada, which has not always happened in Canadian schools.
•          It is never too late to do the right thing.
•          Reconciliation is learning to heal, learn and move forward together.

-

Thank you to the teacher and Grade 5/6 class for sending us their work and responses to this book. 

Mistasiniy: Buffalo Rubbing Stone has been called “a must-read book for all youth” and a book that will help teachers become better teachers, kids become better friends, parents become better parents, and neighbours become better neighbours.

The author, Mary Harelkin Bishop, is a retired teacher who spent much of her career working in core neighbourhood schools. She has also been a teacher-librarian. Most recently, she was an educational consultant with Saskatoon Tribal Council, with a focus on helping students research and write the history of their families and reserves, and their hopes for the future.

Mistasiniy: Buffalo Rubbing Stone is available from www.driverworks.ca. 
(ISBN 978-1-927570-32-6, Juvenile fiction, Ages 10 and up)  
Schools and libraries should contact DriverWorks Ink directly for discounts on orders.

Author finds hope in the Questions and Answers of kids

Ed Olfert is a master at sharing hopeful stories. He grew up in Kerrobert, Saskatchewan and found his bride, Holly, near there. They raised their family on their farm while Ed busied himself in a multitude of vocations including mining, working as a welder, driving trucks, doing mechanical work, serving as houseparent in a Christian high school, ministering a Mennonite church, and operating heavy equipment.

 In 2015, Ed came to DriverWorks Ink with a collection of hope-filled stories he had written for the Prince Albert Daily Herald. We were honoured to help him publish his inspirational columns, which reflect on his lifelong search for glimpses of God and glimpses of good in everyday life and the people around him. Rather than being preachy, Ed's stories are about family, neighbours, and friends, and include lives that we might not naturally connect to God, to awe and mystery.

 

In this time of pandemic, isolation and fear, we need to have hope. We proudly offer one of Ed Olfert’s short stories from his book And It Was Very Good – Everyday Moments of Awe.

This story by Ed Olfert is titled “Hard Questions and Answers”.

    "We are in a P.A. carwash when the call comes from our daughter-in-law. Holly’s hand waves suddenly in the window I have just begun to rinse. “We have to go now!”

    The rinse will have to wait.

    As we head out of town, Holly explains what she was able to understand from the frantic phone call. Our daughter-in-law, her two little boys and her sister, were on their way into town for soccer. On the Muskody Bridge, a motorist appeared to be having problems, and as our daughter-in-law got out to offer assistance, that person plunged over the edge. Our daughter-in-law was part of the attempted rescue effort. Now, she must stay to report in more detail to police. Can we pick up the boys?

    When we arrive, the bridge deck is crawling with emergency folks and vehicles. We find our family wedged between two police cars. Our daughter-in-law gets out when she sees us. Hugs are exchanged, tears are shed. Holly opens the back door. Six-year-old Jordan and three-year-old Josh look up at us. Holly asks if they want to come with us. Jordan, who is shaking uncontrollably, whose eyes are huge, simply nods. Josh announces, “I need to bring my toolkit!”

    Josh gets out, lugging his tools. He follows me around to the driver’s side of our truck. Holly scoops up Jordan, deposits him in the back seat, takes off her coat and covers him.

    The fifteen-minute ride to their house is mostly done in silence, except for Josh’s periodic wondering, “Will the firemen be able to find her?” Jordan’s eyes remain wide. I reach back, put my hand on his knee.

    At the boys’ home, Jordan climbs onto the couch. Holly finds a blanket to cover him. His eyes are dark, troubled, confused. Josh, meanwhile, has a need to play aggressively for a time. A dinosaur toy is produced; it is switched on, and as it wobbles noisily across the floor, Josh knocks it over, sets it up, knocks it over again. When he runs off to find another toy to crash, Holly picks up the dinosaur, which is still writhing noisily on the floor. She asks Jordan, “How do I turn this thing off?” A six-year-old’s smirk appears on his face, “You have to push the button on the poop!”

    The boys need to talk, not a lot, but need to talk about the bridge experience. Josh repeats several times, “I’m scared, I’m scared of what happened!” He is obviously struggling to find words to express feelings of confusion. Jordan, meanwhile, has less to say – he will internalize this – but he says, quietly, “This has been a horrible day.” He alternates between youthful teasing and giggling and struggling with weighty stuff. “Maybe she was on drugs.” When Josh again wonders, “Do you think the firemen could find her?”

    Jordan says in a low voice, “Brother, she’s dead.” Silly moments are interspersed with serious observations and questions.

    We sit with the boys for several hours. It feels like Holy time, a time to create a space for these two boys to express, to wonder, to grieve, to struggle to find words to approach this new reality. When you are three or six, it is almost impossible to use language to make sense of this, to touch despair, hopelessness. That is true for parents and grandparents as well, and we sit together in this space where these hard topics might be approached ever so tentatively. Trust seems an important starting point. In this sense, the boys have been     well prepared. This is not a time for answers, beyond the undergirding assurance of safety, continuity, love.

    That night, the boys sleep well.

    As I pondered and prayed through this experience in the past days, I realized that the paths of the young boys’ struggle to sort out deep spiritual complications in life are closely connected to my own. Truly hard issues are not resolved, in my experience, by someone approaching with a truckload of answers. Rather, it is in the identifying of the questions and in the permission to sit with those questions, to live in that tension, to hold that tension loosely. At some point, the deepest questions will change, probably without clearly defined answers, and hints of growth, understanding, wisdom will be left in palms that are held open.

    It is an honour to be present, to be invited into that struggle, particularly so when it is written on the clean, innocent slates of young children, struggling to understand, struggling to live with integrity."

And It Was Very Good: Everyday Moments of Awe by Ed Olfert was awarded Honorable Mention, Spiritual, in the 2016 Hollywood Book Festival, Hollywood, CA and was awarded Runner-Up, Spiritual, in the 2016 Great Midwest Book Festival, Chicago, IL.

Buy the book from the author. Contact DriverWorks Ink to make that arrangement.

Read a review of the book.

Please contact DriverWorks Ink for permission to reprint any of this article.

9-time Cancer Survivor Gets Good News

In 2011, I wrote (and published) the book Never Leave Your Wingman: Dionne and Graham Warner's Story of Hope. Dionne is one of the most remarkable, inspiring, fun-loving, hope-filled people I know.

Author/publisher Deana J. Driver with Dionne and Graham Warner, June 2011 

When I met Dionne in June 2010 to begin interviewing her and Graham for the book, Dionne was battling Stage IV liver, lung, and bone cancers - her fifth, sixth and seventh cancer diagnoses. She'd already beat breast cancer, brain cancer, and two bouts of liver cancer. With these latest cancers, she had been dressing in different costumes each week and dancing into her chemotherapy treatments, with her wingman (her husband Graham) similarly attired and dancing beside her. They brought hope and laughter - and occasional looks of confusion - to everyone they met during the 77 treatments and themes that occurred by the time the book was published in June 2011.

Some of the "themes" Dionne created for her chemotherapy treatments in 2009 to 2011

Dionne's story has inspired and helped thousands of people around the world and it has been my honour to write and publish book to share our mutual goal of spreading that hope.

And her story continues.

A few months after the book was published, Dionne went into remission. No more Stage IV cancer in any part of her body. To say that everyone was astounded and thrilled is an understatement.

How could this be, you might wonder. For starters, Dionne has a remarkably positive attitude - before, during and after cancer. She lives her life to the fullest in every moment of every day and encourages all of us to do the same - whether we are ill or not. Dionne also has a body that responds well to therapy treatments. She jokes that Heaven is not ready for her yet, but when it is her time, she will be bringing her own radiation-lit, disco-ball body with her! Dionne also received some unique treatment therapies in a hospital in Tijuana in 2010 and she changed her diet as part of that treatment too. (You'll have to read the book for more details.)

Unfortunately, in April 2012, cancer returned to Dionne's liver and she began treatment again. 

A few years later, Graham was diagnosed with cancer in his abdominal area. He successfully underwent surgery to remove the tumour and was cancer-free at his one-year checkup. As Dionne would say, "Woo Hoo!'

Still, how much more can a couple take? Well, these are the Warners ... so the answer - even though no one wants it to be this way - is "a lot".

Dionne had been taking various treatments since her Spring 2012 liver cancer diagnosis, but about two years ago, tumours appeared in her hips and other parts of her body. She has since had several different treatment regimens for these tumours, with differing amounts of success. Hundreds and hundreds of people - whom she calls her Earth Angels - continue to send best wishes, prayers and love to help her fight this evil disease.

And now for the latest news of her cancer journey...

Earlier this week, Dionne received a phone call from her oncologist to come in to his office to hear the results of the latest CT scan. She had not expected a call so soon after the test, so she was nervous. Not to mention having to take her immune-compromised body to the hospital again during these COVID-19 times.

"My oncologist wanted to share the news he had for me sooner rather than later," Dionne reported. "He shared with me that all of my tumours have shrunk.   I had him repeat it more than once as I was in complete and utter shock. Not just one tumour but all and trust me, ,there are a lot. The new chemo regime along with your love, support and continued prayers, Earth Angels, are working. Woo Hoo! "

When I asked Dionne if I could share her amazing, fantastic news, she replied in the affirmative.

"Let's continue to give others H💜PE, I say."

Absolutely, Dionne. And Woo Hoo a thousand times over!

Dionne and Graham Warner in April 2020. Bottom left, she's wearing a handmade mask to go to the hospital to hear from her oncologist.

And just in case you need another dose of happiness and laughter during these uncertain times, here's a video I took in 2011 of their amazing "flappers" theme. Enjoy.

** You can purchase the Never Leave Your Wingman book from SaskBooks and pay no shipping in April 2020. All sales from this bookstore of our provincial publishing group organization will go directly to the publisher members - in this case, my DriverWorks Ink publishing company.

A woman on the plane and our talk about life after loss

My seatmate on the flight from Medicine Hat, AB to Calgary was a wonderful, gentle 85-year-old woman. She impressed me in many ways.

She only became a widow a few months ago, after 65 years of marriage, whereas I've been a widow for three and a half years after 40 years of marriage to my soulmate, Al.

This was her first flight without her husband. I've been on many trips since my loss, but I'm also younger and still working too.

She visited family on this trip and had some fascinating experiences, including being sent to an emergency shelter while the town of Irvine, AB  was evacuated due to a train derailment. And she went whitewater rafting with some of her children, grandchildren, and maybe even great-grandchildren.

Yes. Whitewater rafting at age 85. As a new widow. Talk about inspiring.

We chatted about our families and how grateful we are that they've been so helpful and supportive to us after the deaths of our main men. We spoke with gratitude that we had great husbands and how meaningful, funny, and wonderful their memorial services were. We were proud of ourselves and our families.

We talked about where we're living and what is different about our daily lives now. We are learning how to live alone after decades of being a couple. Eating alone all the time - not by choice - is not fun. I told her how I don't eat at the table. I eat in the living room most of the time. She thanked me for telling her. The newly bereaved need to hear that it is okay to change the routine to feel a little more comfortable in this new life. Once again, I was grateful for what I've learned in bereavement support groups.

We talked about what we do to keep ourselves busy and I mentioned my work as a writer and book publisher. She was curious about my work and took a pre-order card for the Flight book with her.

When it was time to leave each other at the airport, we hugged and wished each other well.

I will think of her fondly and aspire to - maybe - go whitewater rafting myself in another 20-some years.

Yes, I will remember this sweet little lady from British Columbia who also lost her husband Al.

A lot of fun and a little work at the Moose Jaw Air Show

Yesterday was a hot, but productive and fun day for me at the Moose Jaw Air Show. This was the first CFB Moose Jaw air show since 2005. The weather co-operated with a temperature of 26 Celsius, an occasional breeze, and no rain.

My late husband and I and our young children used to attend shows years ago with Al's dad, who loved everything connected with airplanes. (He was one of the first people in Regina, Saskatchewan to fly radio-controlled model planes. The excitement on his face and his vast knowledge of planes added tremendously to the experience.)

I attended yesterday's show with my son Dave, daughter-in-law Kelli, and their three young sons - who were part intrigued, part excited, part bored, but mostly hot during the five-hour show. (That's a long time for anyone to be in the scorching heat, even with loads of sunscreen and short breaks in the shade of umbrellas or displays.) 

Air Show organizers had expected a crowd of 10,000 but had to turn people away after they reached 25,000 guests! I'd call that a huge success.

Some of those in attendance had obviously done this before. They found shelter from the sun under the wings of some of the aircraft on display. (Note to self: Do this next time.)

I was anxious to attend this year's show for three reasons - because of the memories attached to my husband and father-in-law, because I enjoyed the shows so much in the past, and because I was hoping to connect with people who could help me with my next book.

I'm co-writing (with contributors) a series of books called Flight: Stories of Canadian Aviation. The first book in the series will be released this fall. I spent more than an hour walking around the displays and tarmac area, talking with pilots and other interesting folks. I handed out the postcard below and asked them to consider submitting aviation short stories for the series or contacting me so I could interview them and write their stories. (You are welcome to share the information and your own story. You can also pre-order Volume 1 on my website.)

My young grandsons had not seen me working before. They were excited to hear that I had success in finding some potential stories. The 11-year-old was especially curious about who I'd spoken to (rescue crew, helicopter pilots, air museum and history buffs, flight school folks, emergency crew). He shared in my excitement about these new potential leads and also asked me what I knew about the planes flying overhead - not much, but I shared whatever details I remembered of some of the acts I'd seen and enjoyed before.

The fighter jets make the most noise, of course. They capture everyone's attention every time.

The RCAF Snowbirds aerobatic demonstration team's performance has always been my favourite. The plane below was on display during the show. 

Near the end of the show, as we headed back to the vehicle to avoid the claustrophobia of walking in a big crowd, I snapped this photo of the RCAF Snowbirds crew heading to their planes to begin their act. I've interviewed a couple of the Snowbirds personnel for Volume 1 of my book, so now I'm even more interested in their work than before. 

From our spot in the parking lot, we watched the Snowbirds taxi onto the runway:

Our grins say it all. My son and I think these pilots are AWESOME!

I loved seeing the planes' shadows in the clouds.

And that's it from the Moose Jaw Air Show 2019. I can't wait to hear from some of the fine folks I met at this show. Stay tuned this fall for the release of Flight: Stories of Canadian Aviation, Vol. 1.

PRAIRIE FARM STORIES OF SELLING CREAM TEACH US WHILE CELEBRATING THE PAST

In 2015, I wrote this "Read My Book" piece for Regina and Saskatoon newspapers to introduce readers to the fascinating anthology Cream Money: Stories of Prairie People. The book has been popular, due to its sharing of Prairie history and memories of the old days on the farm:

We can learn much from the people around us. Whether they are family, friends, acquaintances or people we have just met, there are stories to be told and lessons to be learned. This concept has been a driving force in my work as a freelance journalist for more than 30 years and has followed me into the field of book writing, editing and publishing.

In 2011, when I began working with the Saskatoon German Days Committee to help them create their book Egg Money: A Tribute to Saskatchewan Pioneer Women, I commented that they could also publish a book called Cream Money, since cream money was another important income source for farm women in days gone by. Of course, their Egg Money book is based on a statue of that name in downtown Saskatoon, so “Cream Money” did not make sense as a project for them.

So in 2014, my husband and publishing partner Al Driver and I decided to invite writers to send us their stories of selling cream and other interesting tales from past decades of farming on the Prairies. We collected 29 short stories and two poems from 30 Prairie writers, including myself.

My mother, Sabinka Staszewski, came to Canada from Poland in August 1929. She was two years old and made the 12-day voyage by ship with her mother, father and three siblings (ages eight years, six years, and six weeks - see photo below). After arrival in Halifax, Nova Scotia, they headed west by train to what would become their new home in Athabasca, Alberta, 95 miles north of Edmonton.

The family spent their first two winters living in a hole in the ground. Literally.

During the First World War, my grandfather had seen houses that were dug into the hills of Romania. There were no hills on the Alberta farmland he’d purchased, so he adapted this idea and created the first dugout house anyone had seen in that region. Their dugout house was four feet deep, eight feet wide, and 14 feet long. A small wood-burning cook stove and oven was used for cooking and warmth. Their large trunk was their only other piece of furniture until my grandfather constructed a long bench.

One of the first items my grandparents purchased in town to add to their meagre possessions was a young Holstein cow named Jenny, to supply the family with milk. Cow’s milk was an essential item on every farm in those days, especially for a growing family. 

Other parts of my family’s story include the fact that my father, also an immigrant, and his siblings were punished for speaking Ukrainian in school. Until they could afford their own cow, my grandmother helped milk a neighbour’s cows so she could bring a quart of milk home for her own family each day.

These are lessons that we can learn from and stories which need to be told to preserve not only our history but to teach the next generation. Other stories within the pages of Cream Money tell of hard work, of children and mice falling into milk cans, of saving cream money for essential items such as teeth repair, of sending the cream cans to town by train, and relishing the rich desserts made with farm-fresh cream.

On days when I am tempted to feel gloomy, I remember the story of the dugout house. Life in Canada is good. Let’s keep sharing those stories.

Cream Money: Stories of Prairie People is available from www.driverworks.ca, McNally Robinson Booksellers, Chapters, Indigo, Coles, and other select retailers. 

Here's a link to my blog about the fun book launch we had for the book!

Busing it to Medicine Hat to sell books and carry on while grieving

I travelled by bus to Medicine Hat, Alberta from my home in Regina, Saskatchewan on the weekend – to do some work, including a signing at the Coles bookstore in the Medicine Hat Mall. I also enjoyed a visit with my eldest daughter, Lisa (who is also an award-winning author), my son-in-law Kyle, and their five-month-old baby girl. It was the first time in decades that I had travelled on a Greyhound bus and it was quite the experience.

I chose to take the bus because road conditions on the Canadian Prairies can change quickly, especially in winter months. I didn't want the stress of having to drive for almost five hours during a snowstorm if the weather turned bad. I thought an experienced bus driver could do that for me and I could figure out how to close my eyes and pretend everything was alright if the weather changed for the worse. Which it did, of course.

The drive there was fine. 

There was very little snow along the drive on Thursday morning. It was surprising to be able to see the fields. I did some people-watching on the packed bus – which stopped at many different communities along the way, offering plenty of opportunities for new characters to board and attract my attention.

I saw travellers who had either little income or no desire to care for themselves clothing-wise or hygiene-wise. These were people of all ages. There were younger males who explained to others that they were travelling across the country because of the downturn in the economy. (It is close to impossible to not overhear others while waiting at a bus terminal, especially boisterous young males.) Some travellers were older and by themselves. I gravitated toward older women, as they seemed closest to my age and life story.

During our lunch stop in Swift Current on the way there, I sat at a table with an older woman who also turned out to be a widow. We had a lovely visit and discussed our grief and how it takes years to process it and learn to live with it. We also talked about how others who are not as affected by our loved one’s death have carried on with their lives within days or weeks. It is hard being a widow. It is hard being alone. Our conversation offered some healing moments for each of us and we were glad we’d found each other on this journey, among this bus full of strangers.

On the buses there and back, there were a handful of riders who had obvious mental health problems. One talked loudly and explained his illness to anyone in his path. He was obviously a nice guy, but definitely sick. I wondered about him and felt sad that his drug use caused more problems for his mental health and daily interactions with others. One young man had visible twitches and made many trips to the bathroom on the bus ride home. Another yelled out in his sleep. It was enough to make me uncomfortable and I thought about the bus drivers who meet these people daily and take them onto their buses, hoping everything goes well – which it did on my buses.

On arrival in The Hat, I was met by my daughter, son-in-law, granddaughter, and this terrific sign:

It was the start to a great weekend.

As always, Lisa and I spent many hours talking about our books, marketing ideas, book awards contests, future book sales and signings, and other strategies for our respective companies - her Above 540 and my DriverWorks Ink.

It began snowing on Friday night and continued for the rest of the weekend. We visited and worked, drove through the snow, and visited and worked some more. (And I got in plenty of Grandma cuddles!)

Oh ... and we got our toenails painted! Thanks, Lisa, for the early birthday gift!

On Saturday, we had a signing event at the Coles bookstore in the mall.  Lisa signed her award-winning spiritual book Opening Up: How To Develop Your Intuition And Work With Your Angels and her new book Leap! How To Overcome Doubt, Fear And Grief & Choose The Path Of Joy. I signed two non-fiction books that I have compiled, Cream Money: Stories of Prairie People and Fun on the Farm: True Tales of Farm Life.

My granddaughter is the cutest co-signer I've ever had!

At the signing, we held each other up emotionally and spiritually when people asked about Lisa's new book, Leap! In it, she shares details of her own story and how she felt when she heard the news in August 2015 that her dad (my husband, Al) had colon cancer. She shares what that diagnosis meant in her life and how she coped with that situation at what should have been the happiest time of her life – a time of expecting her first baby.

Our entire family lived with hope from the minute that Al got sick. He chose to fight with all he had and we chose to be there beside him, doing whatever we could to keep all our spirits up and LIVE in every moment we had together. Unfortunately, in December 2015, the doctors surprised us with news that they could do no more. Al passed away two weeks later, on January 4, 2016.

In her Leap book, Lisa talks about overcoming feelings of doubt and fear as well, but mostly her story is one of carrying on through grief. She shares meditations and exercises and strategies to help readers overcome these obstacles and events in their lives.

It was tough for me to read her story, hearing my own child's pain. It was emotional for me to edit it and publish it. But she did it and I did it.

The story is difficult but important.

We know it has already helped others. 

"I am reading your new book and cannot put it down! It is filling me with the inspiration and affirmations I require. Your opening of your soul so openly in this book has me examining every inch of my own soul and filling it with love and appreciation for the journey I too am on."

We know Lisa's new book will continue to help others. And we are confident that Leap, like her first book, Opening Up, will win a book award too. It’s very well written.

So every time Lisa and I get together – as happens with my other two children and their partners – we talk, we listen, we care for each other. We miss our dad, dad-in-law and husband. We talk about him. We love him and each other. We grieve. We cry. We laugh. We hug each other. And we carry on.

Al and Deana Driver, 2013

The little one's fingers on the window were a precious sight as she looked out at the snow.

The bus leaves Medicine Hat going east only once a day. At 3:15 a.m. 

As the bus depot's answering machine's voice message says, “You heard that right; 3:15 in the morning.” You cannot buy a ticket “at this ungodly hour” – a comment that made me laugh out loud – but if you buy your ticket ahead of time, as I did, you can get on a bus driven by an experienced driver who will head out onto the highway even though it’s been snowing for three days and is still snowing, and there are warnings to stay off the highway.

It's quiet on the streets of pretty much any Canadian town or city at 2:30 in the morning. Medicine Hat is no exception.

I tried really hard to sleep while the bus driver did his job. The one kind-of-open lane of highway caused me some stress.

And it got a little worse partway home.

I did not take photos during the worst parts. I closed my eyes and said a lot of prayers.

But we made it! And I wanted to express my appreciation to the driver.

As he handed me my suitcase, which he had just pulled out from the storage compartment under the bus, I handed him a $20 bill. "I haven't taken a bus for years and I wanted to thank you for getting us here safely."

He just looked at me, so I asked him to please take it. He lifted his arm up and out a bit and asked me to "put it there", under his armpit. Ummm... okay.

As I turned and started walking away, he followed and stopped me. "Do you know that this is only the second time in 26 years that this has happened?"

"That someone gave you a tip?" I asked.

"Yes." 

"Well, you deserve it." And I left. Perplexed. I understand that people who ride the bus may not have much money but ... really? Not even a dollar? Sad.

My daughter-in-law Kelli and my youngest grandson picked me up from the bus depot and drove me home. I cherished the hugs and the "Welcome Home" sign made by my four-year-old grandson.

As I shovelled snow, I thought about the weekend and all its experiences and interactions. 

I saw this mug in Lisa's and Kyle's cupboard and I used it all weekend.

Profound and appropriate. Exactly.