Ready to ride I had been Dad's herdsman for two months. I knew everything about cattle. Their needs. Their peculiarities. Not. But ...

A whole new meaning to 'roasted grains'. May 9, 1969. 6:45 am. When most of the world still sleeps, or is just beginning to st...

My Mom. World's Best Bread Maker I love bread. Freshly baked or cooled. Whole wheat. White. Multi-grain. Potato. Sourdough. Soda. ...

And yes, that's me. Far right. Second row. Dressed in my best. A Dress?! Mom wanted me to wear a dress? To school? I had somehow sl...

The Member of the Legislative Assembly of Alberta for the electoral district of Cardston needed to make sure he received his mail. Daily. ...

The summer I turned nine was supposed to be the most exciting of my life. And it was.   For all of the wrong reasons . . . 1. The bridge. Ju...

  Age and/or inexperience were no barriers when it was time for roundup on the Stringam ranch. The newest Stringam was ...

Let's see you squeeze out of that... I found myself a genie. Inside a bottle, too. His master’d had a master Chef who’s rated ‘...

The Old Garage. Look out below . . . Under the floor of the old garage was a dark, mysterious, magical stronghold.  A place of adventur...

A guest post by Blair Stringam Shammy. And humanoids. Did you ever think about something that you did in the past and wonder “what ...

The dinner was exquisite. Every preparation completed. Pressed, linen tablecloth. Pristine, individual napkins. The finest china an...

Daughter. Wife. Mother. Friend. Parent. Confident. Co-conspirator. I have lots of stories about my Mom. Favourite stories. And in my min...

The mighty Ball Player/Cheer leader. At the Stringam ranch, size definitely mattered. Average was never good enough. The buildings were...