Orange Memories Musings: Of bluebirds and briers and better judgement

By Beth Robertson

Lion. Lamb. Ides of March. St. Patrick’s Day. Equinox. First day of spring. Montana’s Brier. Women’s World Curling. Men’s World Curling. What a month!

The horned larks and bluebirds are back, and we await the first meadowlarks, robins and crows, along with dandelions and crocuses. Spring is in the air!

Why do we hate dandelions and love crocuses? Dandelions provide early spring nutrition for our threatened bee populations—and for us. Every part of a dandelion is edible. My sons laughed at me for putting dandelion leaves in my sandwiches—until they saw them packaged for sale in a Safeway store. Those leaves have more nutrition than lettuce. Will you dare to garnish your next salad with dandelion blossoms or use dandelion leaves as the main ingredient?

And why do we look forward to seeing the first crow in spring and mutter about them for the rest of the summer? When I thought about that, a poem came to mind.

Transfiguration
Warm winter wind, ever-lengthening day,
Spring breeze sneaks in to break the wintry cold.
But where, oh where are you, black beauty,
harbinger of spring?
We await your coming.

Then you appear, shiny black wings rhythmically
beating their way to nesting place,
following the urge that you cannot name.
My heart lifts as you caw a friendly greeting.
Long days I have awaited your return.

Hot summer breeze, green all around,
Outdoor scenes of summer work and play.
And there you are, black tormentor,
disturber of the peace,
raucously claiming territory, terrorizing, robbing,
ever evasive of a threatening gun.
Away with you, you black beastly bird.
We do not want your clamour here.

Chill wind, days grow shorter, warning of winter’s approaching cold.
You call your friends in harsh cacophony,
gathering together for comfort in your flight.
Away! You have disturbed enough of summer’s peace.

Then you’re gone—and in my heart a yearning
for the day you will return,
again transfigured to the harbinger of spring.

- Beth Robertson 1991

The Montana’s Brier is over. Outstanding curling. We shed tears as Brad Gushue was honoured at the end of his final game before retirement. What a remarkable example of sportsmanship and composure. He is a credit to the sport and to Canada.

Residents have been enjoying the curling on the large screen in the living room or from their recliners. Next up: baseball. Go Blue Jays!

Inspired by last month’s Olympics, we have continued with our own McKenna’s brand of competition. Medals are handed out after each event. Who will be the ultimate champion?

Our front entrance, as always, is themed. I hope you saw the leprechauns on display. Residents’ pictures were AI-enhanced for this fun project—or was it magic? With the wave of a magic wand, the leprechauns have now become Easter bunnies. They are just the sweetest.

An Orange Memories welcome to new resident Ed McFarlane. Before retirement, Ed farmed in the Harris area for many years—if farmers ever really retire. When we were neighbours, Ed cleared my driveway with his snowblower and boosted my car with his battery charger. No more driveways to clean or batteries to charge. When the dust settles, we look forward to hearing your spontaneous laugh.

The “Treble Makers,” a ukulele group from Dinsmore, Milden and surrounding areas, treated us to songs with ukulele accompaniment. So enjoyable, and your name is a great play on words. The social time that followed was just as special.

We are hosting themed singalongs each Wednesday at 5:45 p.m. It may seem like a strange hour, but it works for us. Friends from the Oasis join us each week. Singing is good for the soul and promotes healing and health—my mantra.

March 11 was a quiet, meditative singalong with readings and videos. March 18 honoured the Emerald Isle, and March 25 welcomed spring—even if the weather did not cooperate.

Ernie Hamilton serenaded us on March 13, then it was off to a hockey game. Thank you, Ernie and Joan, for your visits.

Congratulations to Sheila Hare on receiving an Age Friendly Rosetown Award. Sheila brings smiles, laughter, hugs and warmth whenever she is here. Sometimes she even drops in just to spread a little extra joy. A well-deserved honour.

The Senior Choral Group visited March 15, bringing spirited singing, a “little Green Man” skit, and plenty of laughs. The rafters rang with laughter again on March 19 when friends from the Wheatland Regional Centre joined us. The interview session was hilarious, followed by food and refreshments.

Congratulations to Cassidy, activity director on leave, and Carter Mirovowsky on the birth of their daughter, Rennley Mae. Cassidy brought the baby to visit residents. Few things bring more smiles than a baby.

Have you ever had the urge to test your marksmanship, get some exercise and have a good laugh all at once? Learn to play “Whack-a-Mole.” For instructions, contact Morgan or McKenna. I don’t know if March will go out like a lion, but it is going out with a laugh.

Meet a Resident

Meet Orange Memories resident Colin Ahrens, with us since 2024. Colin was born August 24, 1944, to Lloyd and Phyllis Ahrens. His only sibling died at a young age.

Colin attended elementary school at Cleland and high school in Rosetown. He earned a BSA degree from the University of Saskatchewan, majoring in agricultural mechanics, then returned to farm with his parents.

His accomplishments include inventing the Bale Chief, a bale stacker that saved significant labour; serving 48 years on RM of Marriott council, including 20 years as reeve; 30 years on the Prairie Centre Credit Union board, including time as chairman during construction of the Main Street building; and developing a strong herd of registered Herefords.

Asked to share a story from his youth, Colin recalled being sent with friends Ken Johnson and Bob Nicholls to deal with a skunk in the henhouse. Using a bale as a shield, they cornered it. Ken picked it up, and they carried it across the road to where Howard Hill was working 18 feet down a well. They threatened to drop the skunk down.

Howard shouted, “If you throw that thing down here, I won’t need a ladder to get out!”

Better judgment—or fear—prevailed, and the trio retreated, skunk in hand.

If you want to hear the rest of the story, you will have to ask Colin.

Did you know?

If you can capture a skunk by its back legs while holding its tail down, it cannot spray. Not many are brave enough or foolish enough to try it.