Kim Hanson

Writing & Quilting

Avoid the Chasm of Chaos

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Good day everyone. At my tender age of 66, I still feel as if life can be filled with chaos. There are always appointments to attend, groceries to buy and people to see. I feel an urge sometimes to isolate – to concentrate only on writing or quilting or home improvements. After all, I am an introvert that truly enjoys spending time alone. . . I get energy from doing that.

But, I also realize the need to be out and about in the world; to be with my grandchildren, to see family and friends, to attend yoga classes, to spend time with my aging Dad. These things stave off chaos in my world and instead, bring me order and calm. These things bring me joy. It’s ever so important to find your path to joy and revel in it.

 

A Sweet Gift of Time

When the family doctor rescinded my 80-year old Dad’s driver’s license, my siblings and I were overjoyed. I know that sounds cruel, but his GP did our family a great service. Dad’s mild dementia had become an issue and his eye sight was failing. We were ever so grateful to have him off the road.

Dad walking the 8th Avenue mall circa 1935

Since Dad is a stickler for the rules, he didn’t even try to drive his vehicle after his license was revoked. But that doesn’t mean he held back.

“I know that doctor has me mixed up with someone else,” he’d say over and over again. “Why did he take away my license? I’m fine to drive! I’m going to find another doctor who’ll give it back to me!”

Mercifully, he never followed through.

Like most people who have driven for many years, Dad’s life changed dramatically. No longer could he pick up and go wherever he wanted. No longer could he drive into the “office” even though he hadn’t really work there for years. No longer could he attend Calgary Flames games in person or go to his typical pregame meal at Boston Pizza. It was a difficult transition for him.

Dad lived with my elderly mom and middle-aged brother (their caretaker) in a home they’d owned for more than 30 years. When prostate cancer struck in 2014, for the first time in his life, Dad had to rely on someone else to ferry him about. That someone else was me.

Growing up, Dad was my advocate. . . his love and tender care had always seen me through difficult times as a child. He is a generous soul and was there for me whenever I needed him. But, our relationship lay on the surface of things; we didn’t delve into sensitive topics or discuss emotions or feelings. Even deep into my adulthood, we stuck to fluffy conversations about my children, grandchildren or sports – he and I can analyze a game for hours!

I began keeping track of and driving him to all his medical appointments, and in the initial stages of his diagnosis, there were many. He required hormone injections to keep the cancer at bay, regular trips to the lab for blood work to check on his PSA, and monthly CT and bone scans to check on the progress of his cancer. As a reminder, I called or texted him the day before a medical appointment. When I arrived on his doorstep, he was always ready to go, dressed in his “Sunday best”.

One morning, he had an appointment for a CT Scan in a neighbouring town. It was a long drive so we got an early start. Travelling in a south-easterly direction, along a major highway, a noisy freight train rumbled by on tracks running parallel to the road. Its presence tweaked something in my Dad’s mind, and he began to regale me with stories from his youth; stories I had never heard before. He told me how he and his brothers used to hang out at the CN rail yard. . . how they would take turns hiding from security in empty rail cars. He told me how they would play football in the off-limits, fenced yard adjacent to the train station and how they’d pick up wrapped candy that lay on the tracks, left behind by a shipment burst open in transit. He and his brothers were chased from the rail yard by the CN Police on an almost daily basis. As the sun rose over the horizon, I saw my Dad in a different light. His humanity came shining through.

He and I added a weekly lunch date to the routine of doctor appointments. On Mondays, we headed for the neighbourhood mall; always the same place, the familiarity of which made him feel safe. The benefits were twofold: Dad got some much needed exercise walking the corridors of the mall and I got to hear more of his stories. We’d order from A&W or Subway or have Chinese food. As we ate, he naturally carried on telling me more and more about his mom and his dad and his brothers and sisters. He told me he had to quit school in grade 11 to help support his huge family – after all, there were twelve of them! Being with him, wherever or whenever was a gift. . . it was a sweet gift of time.

Mom passed away in 2019. My parents had been married 65 years, so it was a huge adjustment for Dad to live without her. His prostate cancer spread to his back, but so far at his age of 90 years, it’s growth has halted. At each visit, his oncologist is amazed by Dad’s resiliency and his ability to keep going, no matter what.

I’ve been blessed. I’ve had both the time and the opportunity to glean a deeper, richer understanding of who my Dad really is. I’m connected to him now in a way I wasn’t before. For that, I’m forever grateful.

Talk again soon.

Kim

My Brand New, Beautiful Quilt Ladder

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Good day all! Nice to have you here with me, as always.

Way back in April-ish of 2022, I began to search for a quilt stand of sorts that I could display my quilts on, outdoors. I wanted it fairly large, fairly tall actually, so that visually, it would take up the appropriate amount of space in photos.

Now, there are many types and kinds of quilt racks on the market. But they are all made in the same mold, and are maybe 40″ tall. I needed one much, much taller.

Closing my eyes, I had a visual in mind. I started searching online. Nothing of interest was popping up. I took a look at the Kijiji website and did a search. I got a hit for someone advertising quilt ladders who lived in Innisfail, Alberta – about an hour and fifteen minute drive from Calgary. There were no photos on the Kijiji ad. I contacted the email address.

In writing, I tried to explain exactly what I needed. The person at the other end of the email said, “My husband can make you anything you want!”  She told me her husband would make me a wooden quilt ladder in whatever size I wished. Grabbing the tape measure, I got the exact dimensions of the back of the inside of my vehicle and gave them to her. I explained to her what I needed the quilt ladder for. . . in that it had to be able to stand on its own, not necessarily lean against a wall or fence, etc. She took a deposit from me via e-transfer, which I was so happy to send. It meant the process had started. Then, I waited.

Maybe two weeks go by. I get an email from the lovely lady in Innisfail whose name is Yvonne. I can go and pick up my quilt ladder anytime. It’s all ready to go home!  She sent me a photo of it.

I was ecstatic! It looked perfect. We drove north up Highway 2 the very next day.

When we arrived at the home on a cul-de-sac, Yvonne invited me in. My new quilt ladder was standing there in their living room. Yvonne’s husband, Merv, had made it exactly to my specifications! I thought it was beautiful and I said so, over and over again. Merv was pretty happy and proud of what he had made just for me. It’s exactly what I wanted and what I needed.

We paid them the balance owing in cash, visited for quite sometime, and then headed out. Rick was positive that my brand new quilt ladder WOULD NOT fit into the back of my vehicle. Quote: “There is no way that is going to fit in the back of your Rav.”  Merv and I exchanged a glance or two. He didn’t say anything. He and I knew it would fit – after all, I had measured.

Now, the ladder doesn’t fold in or collapse in any way, so it had to fit into my vehicle, as is. Lifting up the hatch door, we carefully slid it into place. Voila! A perfect fit! Yes, the driver’s side and the passenger side seats had to be squished toward the front, but there was still leg room for the drive home. (I’m glad we hadn’t brought the dogs along for the trip. Not too sure where they would have fit in).

I think my new, custom-made quilt ladder is beautiful. Merv even gave us some brown stain in a jar to take home, in case the ladder needed the occasional touch-up. I’ve taken it out to the ghost town of Rowley so far, with many more ghost towns still to visit.

I think it works perfectly for what I wanted. Thank you so much to Merv’s Quilt Ladders, to Merv himself and to the lovely Yvonne.

Here is their contact information:

Take care everyone.

Kim

 

 

Time for a Reset

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Good day quilters! It’s been a very long time since my last post here. Of course, that was not my intention for my blog to languish. . . life has been so very busy, like it has been for many of you.

After 30 years residing in the same home, we decided to move. We looked at homes on the market sporadically throughout the past few years, but finally agreed it was time to get serious. It took us several months to find what we wanted – a smaller home, preferably a walkout bungalow. Besides longing for a she shed, I had also dreamed of working in the lower level of a walkout bungalow. Lots of light, good scenery for inspiration – things like that. It was beyond difficult to leave our neighbours – Scenic Park Crescent is like a street from the 1950’s. We all knew each other, watched each other’s children grow up and cared about each other.

But when it’s time, it’s time. Change is a great thing, necessary for some of us that have been entrenched in the same place for so long. We did some remarkable purging. . . selling, giving away, trips to the dump. When it came time to move, though, we still had too much stuff! It was daunting and overwhelming and a tad bit depressing.

The important thing was that we did it! We’re here in our new home and have been for about a month now. It doesn’t quite feel like home yet, but we’ve settled in quite well. The dogs had a tough time but are much better adjusted now. 

My desk is positioned just in front of a large window looking out to the backyard. When I spin around in my chair,  I see people and their dogs walking along the path behind our home. I love that! We have a little bridge behind our house and a lovely ravine to gaze at. Not sure if I shall feel the inspiration,  but I’m hoping to.

 

At my age, it’s hard to change, but all-in-all, it’s very worth it.

Take care everyone.  

Next post – Merv’s Quilt Ladders

Kim

Trapped and Tangled Loon

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Good day everyone. It has been a very long, long time since my last post. I have been writing mainly, taking classes, taking photos, getting my garden growing, with some quilting on the side. Also, my Dad has been hospitalized yet again; I can’t remember if it’s been three times or four times during Covid. . . it’s been a lot for both him and for his family.

I was so excited to have my very first children’s story published in the American children’s magazine, Cricket. My story, “Trapped and Tangled Loon’ was included in their April, 2022 issue.

April 2022 Issue of Cricket magazine

It’s a story about two boys at Police Outpost Lake (near Waterton, Alberta) who help to free a loon who has become tangled in fishing line.

I must admit I was thrilled. 

Here’s hoping there’s more children’s stories, worthy of publication, in my future.

Insofar as quilting is concerned, I’m getting myself better organized. I’ve sold some of my “stash” fabrics online and will likely continue to sell some more. I really have too many fabrics and can’t see my way through them all. I’ve been working on two children’s bunk bed quilts – one of which will be featured in Quilter’s World magazine in the Spring.

My blogging will be on a much more regular basis now. Thank you all so much.

Kim

The Birth Place Forest of Silver Springs

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Good day everyone. I wrote this piece for Woods Reader, a beautiful, inspiring publication based in Spring Lake, Minnesota. It can be found in their Winter 2020/2021 issue.

 

The grassy green field was alive with energy and vitality. School children, in groups of five or so, squealed with delight taking turns kicking the black and white soccer ball. Dogs barked; their owners allowing them freedom to run and play. The rush of four lanes of traffic roared by, leading in and out of the neighbourhood. Yet, the instant I stepped onto the spongy path of the Birth Place Forest, all outside sound was muffled. I was embraced, instead, by the sounds of nature.

 

Two prodigious things happened in the year 2002. First, our tiny, healthy, precious grandson, Jacob was born. Second, spawned from the creative minds of community-conscious individuals at BP Canada Energy Group, Calgary Parks/Regional Health and Golden Acres Garden Centre, the Birth Place Forest of Silver Springs was also born. The urban oasis took root on some land originally set aside as a roadway allowance or potential right-of-way. As each baby was born in Calgary, a tiny, healthy, significant tree was planted. Poplar, pine, ash, aspen, bur oak, spruce and Brandon elm began to stake-out their territory. . . roots traversing deep into the soil, establishing new life. The goals of the Birth Place Forest program were simple. To educate, to establish pride and ownership through connection and to form a deep abiding legacy to the trees planted in the urban forest.

Years passed by. Jacob grew. A visit to his tree became an adventure for us. He rode his bike to the Birth Place Forest while I walked alongside. He always rode ahead – so excited to reach our destination.

“Grandma!” he’d shout. “Hurry. Catch up. We’ve still got a long ways to go.”

We always easily found his green ash tree, right where the map led us. Jacob, upon arriving, would drop his bike on the ground and stand beside his tree or duck under his tree or lay on the ground beside his tree.

“Look how big it’s getting Grandma!” he’d say as I snapped a photo.

“Yes, and look how big you are getting my sweet boy!”

We would sit on the cedar bark cushion beside the ash tree and talk, all the while having a snack of juice and cheese and crackers. The perfect picnic.

The Birth Place Forest in Silver Springs grew in unison. The mass of trees began to stretch high into the sky, offering sanctuary and refuge to all the wildlife in the neighbourhood. On hot summer days, the forest was like slurping a popsicle; cool and delicious. In the chilly winter months, the trees seemed to huddle together, offering shelter from the cold, harsh, north winds. But it’s best foot forward came in the fall, when the leaves changed from sage green to amber and golden and glorious.

Calgary, with extraordinary prescience, created nine Birth Place Forests in different neighbourhoods around the city – the first of its kind in Canada. Planting trees began in 2001 and continued until 2009 when planting ceased due to a dearth of suitable land and a sudden lack of funding.

“We require about five hectares of land to plant the trees and we need a site that can accommodate at least 3,000 families. Those sites can be hard to find,” said the city’s urban forestry coordinator.

But in those nine years, the City of Calgary planted 62,000 life-affirming new trees.

Silver Springs volunteers have taken over maintenance and management of the Birth Place Forest, ensuring care continuity. Botanical gardens were created and abut the forest, together stretching over 20 acres of land. Strolling the paths is a spiritual antidote to the stress and chaos in our lives.

“I grew up in a forest. It’s like a room. It’s protected. Like a cathedral… it is a place between
heaven and earth.”
― Anselm Kiefer

Jacob is turning 19 years of age soon. So is his green ash tree. Both are tall, strong and purposeful. He doesn’t visit the Birth Place Forest often, but I do. I walk the paths, revel in the sounds of nature and sit on the bench to collect my thoughts or write in my journal.

“And into the forest I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.”
— John Muir


 

It’s a space and a place of peace. I reminisce about my sweet grandson, the wonder pooling in his eyes and the excitement spilling out of every pore. Here in the Birth Place Forest, my connection to Jacob is palpable. Here in the Birth Place Forest there is a deep, abiding legacy to the trees that surround me. Here is nature at its very best.