My week at a writing retreat at St. Peter’s Abbey, Muenster, Saskatchewan ended yesterday, but I have to say, I wasn’t ready to leave. I had finished the writing that I came to do, so it wasn’t that I needed more time for that, but perhaps one more day — to read in the College library, listen to the bells, join in Abbey prayers, walk? But, in the words of the cliche, all good things must come to an end. And there’s always the road ahead.
Is there anything more enticing than a roadway between trees? Any kind of path, in fact, that pulls into distance, into the future?
And so I followed the highway to Saskatoon, away from the roadways and nearby rail line of the Abbey, and now I’m at my sister’s house, where the bed is decidedly more comfortable than the somewhat monkish one in the Scholastica building. Another sister lives in Warman, so I’m spending the weekend here, and so far it’s been lovely to catch up with both of them. There will be more of that catching up and seeing nieces and nephews and babies before I set out Monday for Calgary, where I’ll stay at my brother’s place, and then, D.V., my trusty steed, aka my red Escape (currently covered in prairie dust, though my brother-in-law has graciously offered to wash it this afternoon), will be turned westward and home.
Trusting that all will be well until then, let me thank you who came along via these posts. May whatever path you’re on open beautifully before you today!
from a collection of Helmut’s, at each to mark remembrance and gratitude. On Tuesday Bonnie and I enjoyed brunch at Pine Ridge Hollow and for supper I joined my niece Daniela and her family in Steinbach. I spent two nights and the day between with my cousin Barb, also in Steinbach. Robins entertained us as we ate on her patio, but mostly we sat in her sun room and read from the diaries of our late Aunt Margaret Harder. She was a teacher, also very involved in Elmwood MB Church (the first woman to preach there, etc.), and left about 20 notebooks from some 20 years, basically a page per day. She was a wonderful aunt to her nieces and nephews, and Barb and I were both inspired by entering her past world in this way and noting her ongoing and intentional expressions of thanks. That evening two other cousins and their daughters joined us for rhubarb dessert and catching up all round.
And now I’m here, in this quiet red brick and pine-treed place, and I’m really really really looking forward to the next seven days! I’ll check in again at the end of it.
Borrowing Bones 