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Drumheller


Today we visited the Royal Tyrrell Museum located in the Drumheller Valley in the town of Drumheller. It’s located in the southern Alberta in a place called the Badlands. The museum was named after J.B. Tyrrell,  who in his search for coal deposits along the river, discovered a skull of a dinosaur. which is known today as the Albertasaurus. Tyrrell’s discovery marked the beginning of the collection of dinosaur remains. Drumheller itself was named after one it’s early settlers, Samuel Drumheller in 1913. Until the gas and oil boom of the 1980’s, Drumheller was one of the fastest growing places in Alberta. Today though it survives mainly on tourism and has a population of about 8,000. 

 

The museum is nestled in and area of steep, dry coulees ridged with the strata caused by hundreds of years of erosion. Even though the climate changes that are slowly changing the weather patterns here are effecting the coulees by providing enough moisture to allow plant life to grow where there once was none, they are still very beautiful, like an earth tone rainbow. It’s not really that large. There is a main building with exhibit areas, a cafeteria, an indoor garden and a learning center. The surrounding coulees can be climbed via stairs to an observation deck and there are trails in the area as well.

 

Katy is not quite as dinosaur crazy as my oldest nephew was at her age, but ever since her preschool teacher introduced her class to dinosaurs over a year ago, she has taken an interest that goes beyond the cursory. She even went to a dinosaur session of kindercamp this summer and still dresses like a pterodactyl from time to time when she isn’t dressed up as a princess or a ballerina. She can tell you how pterodactyls are birds really, and how some dinosaurs evolved into the birds we know today. It’s her favorite dinosaur though she likes T-Rex’s too. She had a pretty good time, I think. It’s hard to tell with young children in museums. The good thing about taking them with you is that is that it relieves you of the feeling that since you spent the money to come in, you should read everything at every exhibit. Having a child along allows you to just “look at the pictures” so to speak. We didn’t arrive there until late in the afternoon, so it wasn’t very crowded though that might have had more to do with the rain and the chilly temps than the time. We wandered for a couple of hours. Bought the obligatory  “I came, I saw, I got the t-shirt” for Katy and headed for home about six.

 

The drive was a long one and we didn’t get back until close to ten. Cranky, hungry child and slightly overtired husband, but all in all a really good day.

Things That Matter


 

Oprah’s column for September is worth a read, even if you can’t stand the woman. Personally, I think there is a lot of admire about her despite the fact that she has probably passed the point where she has any reality check contacts in her world view. In her column she uses the old stand-by of mountain climbing as a metaphor for life. There are reasons that things become cliches and that isn’t just to annoy us. These chestnuts exist because they are quite apt. I don’t have a mountain in Hawaii to ruminate upon but  my kitchen table serves reasonably well most days when I am pondering my life and writing about things. Oprah made a list of five observations that resulted from her backyard hike that I feel are worth reflection:

 

1. Challenges are often more difficult than they seem at the outset.

And sometimes, they are not.

 

2. An ascent that at first looks smooth turns out to have unseen dips             and ridges and valleys.

 

Murphy’s Law will usually hold true here, but the unforeseen can be the best part of any journey if you hold the panic to a minimum and really think about it.

 

3. The higher you climb, the thicker the weeds.

 

And weeds don’t pull themselves. They can take the shape of preconceived notions about yourself or negative people who have some personal need to see you fail. Point is that you will run across them and the closer you are to the top, the more of them there will seem to be.

 

4. You need a clear vision of where you’re going if you want to avoid getting disoriented by the clouds that roll in and block your view.

 

True, and to a seat of the pants Sagittarian this can be tough. This when it is good to know an earth sign or two.

 

5. You have to be determined to make it to the top. Otherwise every slip, stumble, and fall (all of which happened to me today, within that first hour) will give you an excuse to turn around and head home.

 

Yes, it is all too easy to find or make up excuses for not being where you want to be. You have to want it. You need to be hungry. Only people who don’t need to win the lottery, or would be better off in the long run if they didn’t, pick those winning numbers. The rest of us have to work for what we want, and work is exactly that though interestingly it never appears to be so to those who prefer the excuse route.

 

Finally, I would add that you need to remember that mountain climbing should be a little bit of fun at least. Views should be admired whenever possible and shared with those who mean the most.

You’re Radiant


One day last week while we were cleaning up after lunch, Rob surprised me with “You look radiant.” And followed it up with, “I hope you’re not pregnant.” He was teasing about the being pregnant thing, but he wasn’t wrong about the radiance. All last week I felt this inner fire and joy. Sometimes all the stars align and everything seems to be in its place and you can’t remember the last time life was so perfect. Of course life isn’t perfect, ever. Even the best of times have their moments when life’s little details aren’t so little, and everything plus the kitchen sink mounts up with such an unrelenting steadiness of pace that you can almost predict the exact moment the tipping point will be reached. Almost. 

 

This week Rob noted that the radiance in my eyes and demeanor was on the retreat. For no reason and too many reasons all at once. None of them worth burdening my blog with, though my dear husband patiently listened to each one and offered arms and shoulders and many kisses in his campaign to restore radiance. Mindless radiance though is for brides, pregnant women, and very small children. Categories I don’t fall into.

 

Tonight as I was starting the pancakes for supper, Rob arrived home with an armful of roses. He’s a Virgo. They don’t give up easily. Actually, they don’t give up at all. As the pancakes burned to the griddle, Rob and I smooched in blissful ignorance, but later I pondered the question of radiance, wondered  what I look like radiant as opposed to not, and thought back to just a bit earlier in the day as I navigated the Avalanche around Sherwood Park (with a tiny assist from OnStar) and how wonderful that felt, and I decided that radiance should be mindful, a purpose even. It shouldn’t be the emotional equivalent of your Sunday best but worn everyday for no reason at all but to elicit queries and compliments.