My life is based on a true story
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I’ve often thought that I would like to write my autobiography, but would anyone but myself even find it remotely interesting?
The past couple of weeks have been more eventful than usual. It all started back on October 8 when I decided to contact all of the area’s Rural Municipalities to let them know that I would extend my deadline to get their Notice of Poll, Notice of Abandonment of Poll advertisements in. I try to be accomodating as much as I can, and I knew that I would be pushing my deadline to get my files to the printer in Wainwright. They request that I have everything to them by noon on Fridays for the newspaper to be printed and get on the truck to be delivered to Kindersley the next morning. I knew that this was not likely to happen, but I contacted Heather at StarPress, and she said that they would extend my deadline. “Perfect!” I thought to myself. I’ll still be able to go home and catch a few hours sleep and get everything done by mid-afternoon at the latest. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Life got in the way on Friday afternoon as it sometimes does when you have three teenagers, and I had to throw my hands in the air and declare that I would not meet my deadline.
I called Heather once again, and she said that they would print my papers first thing Tuesday morning, but I would have to come to Wainwright to pick them up. It wasn’t the ideal situation, but it was the best that I could do on the Thanksgiving long weekend.
Our family spent the holiday at our home in Gull Lake. We have been in the process of doing some renovations to get it ready to sell. I won’t get into too many details here, but renovations are NOT fun! I must admit that part of me was glad to be going back to Kindersley and leaving the renos to Robert.
It was back to work bright and early Tuesday morning. Thankfully the weather was cooperative for my road trip to Wainwright. I headed up through Kerrobert, Luseland and Macklin, where I had to stop at the World’s Largest Bunnock and have a 5-minute nap. My lack of sleep over the past few days was catching up with me. Against my better judgment, I picked up one of those energy drinks at the local gas station and got back on the road.
I arrived in Wainwright at around 11:00 a.m. and amazingly found the print shop with no problems. I had never been there before, so Roger Holmes, who owns the business, gave me a tour of the pressroom. The “Voice” was “hot off the press,” as they say, and we got them loaded into my car, and I was on my way once again.
On my way back, I noticed a huge flock of snow geese on a body of water just to the west of Provost. “I must get back to get the papers delivered,” my inner voice said to me. “Oh, but you really should stop and take a video!” my other inner voice beckoned. (I am a Gemini, so I have two distinct personalities). You must know who won out before I even tell you!
Yep, I pulled into an approach and got out my iPhone to take a short video of the birds. They looked like a blanket of snow on the water. I found it quite satisfying to watch and listen to them.
Suddenly my mood changed. I was no longer sleepy. I felt a bit invigorated. I passed the community of Provost and headed back into Saskatchewan through Macklin once again. I was going past the Village of Primate when a sign caught the corner of my eye. There was a road that would lead me to Marengo if I so chose to take it. “I must get back to get the papers delivered,” my inner voice said to me. “Oh, but you really should go back and take that road!” my other inner voice beckoned. You must know who won out before I even tell you!
Yep, I found an approach and turned around, turning left onto Highway 317. It was a beautifully paved road. No traffic. Smooth. I called Robert on my hands-free device to let him know that I had made it to Wainwright and that I was on my way back to Kindersley. I told him that I was taking a different route and hoped that I would see some interesting scenery. No sooner did those words come out of my mouth; I saw a country church in the distance. “Gotta go! I’ll talk to you later,” I said to Robert. “I see something!”
What a find! I came across St. Anthony’s Church (Grosswerder), which was constructed in 1912. It is located at NW1/4-10-37-27-W3rd in the Rural Municipality of Eye Hill No. 382 and has been formally recognized as a Historic Place in Saskatchewan. The heritage value of St. Anthony’s lies in its association with the local community. The Roman Catholic parish was established for the German Catholics who homesteaded the area between 1906 and 1907. Three church bells, cast in Germany in 1912, are particularly valued for their connection with the parishioners’ Germanic heritage. The bell tower dominates the landscape, making it a landmark in the community.
Just down the road is the cemetery, which is kept in immaculate condition. What I found different about this cemetery was that not all of the graves were facing east. About half of the graves faced east, while the other half faced west. I would be interested in finding out why this is, although ultimately, what matters most is the life that has been lived, not their final resting place.
I was so glad that I listened to my “inner squirrel” and decided to take a different way home.
As I travelled further, I could see an elevator in the distance. By this time, only one of my voices was speaking to me. The voice of adventure! The elevator was Cactus Lake! I wasn’t sure how far it was to Marengo, but I thought maybe I would come across Loverna if I kept on this road. The beautiful pavement turned into a grid. I kept going for a while and saw another elevator in the distance. “Maybe that’s Loverna?” I said to myself. I could have gone down Highway 51 (which was paved) towards Major and Kerrobert, but I decided to check out the elevator. Before I got there, I noticed a cemetery. I pulled alongside the road and walked into the sparsely occupied cemetery. A large monument told me where I was. “Dedicated in memory of Fusilier and area pioneers.”
I googled Fusilier and found out that it is now considered a ghost town, but it had quite a storied past.
My day was not finished, but I already had so many things to tell Robert about when we had our nightly text. That’s when autocorrect decided to bring a little fun into our conversation.
I mentioned Fusilier and that I found information on it through Saskatchewan Ghost Towns. “Churches, cemeteries, elevators, I typed. I actually was looking for Loverboy.”
“Who” Robert texted back, probably wondering what I was really up to on my travels.
Autocorrect had changed Loverna to Loverboy, and I just about peed myself, I laughed so hard!
“You better not be looking for Loverboy lol” was Robert’s response.
To think that none of this would have happened if I would have made my deadline. I guess my life lesson for this week is when life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Or better yet, make orange juice and leave the world wondering how you did it.
PHOTOS BY KATE WINQUIST
Autocorrect provides a good chuckle.
The Cactus Lake elevator.
A view of St. Anthony’s Church from the Grosswerder Cemetery.
A dedication to the pioneers of Fusilier.