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Published: August 10th 2015
It was hard leaving Little Bobtail Lake despite bring locked in the outhouse for half an hour while Randy and Tim worked to get me out. I was thankful that Tim heard me yelling and that there was a screened window to press my nose against while they fiddled with the jammed lock. A bad experience makes a good story I always say! There was excitement too when Dave made a sharp turn with the boat and I found myself on the floor, wineglass still in hand. Too bad Tim was in the wine's path!
Our drive out took us through many areas of the 25,000 hectare fire that ravaged this area in May. The cabin we stayed in came dangerously close to burning, but due to the heroic efforts of over 300 firefighters, not one cabin was lost. The blackened corpses of once magnificent trees painted an apocalyptic picture.
We stayed the night in St. Albert, having a wonderful visit with cousin Corinne, her husband Georges, and sister Sylvia before continuing on to Vegreville, Alberta, my home town.
This was our first visit back since Mom died last year and I had a good cry on the
way to visit her and Dad in the graveyard there. In the past, our journeys home were always filled with the excitement of seeing them again. When we arrived at the farm, there they would be, no matter how late, to greet us, hot tea and homemade cinnamon buns at the ready. How I miss those times and how I always cried when I left, knowing that at their ages, it might be the last time I'd see them. And finally it came to pass. We washed the headstone tenderly, making sure it was the cleanest and shiniest one there, stood before it and remembered the good and kind people my parents had been, and left behind a yellow rose, Mom's favourite. Until next time, dear hearts.
(See more photos by scrolling to the end.)
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