More Photos

I have been mostly working hard at my full time job, but have squeezed in a bit of photo scanning.
The editor, for "Three Seconds On, Three Seconds Off" has been changed, and while that slows things down a bit, it is also positive. I understand that the new editor is awesome! I still don't have an ETA for publication release , but that will come soon.
So far, my business card is being well received. A warm welcome to all the new visitors!
I thought I'd share a couple of the pictures I have just scanned. The shots are (1)from 1964, probably right after Christmas, and (2) the fall of 1979. In 1967, my youngest sister joined our family, but in '64, there were just five of us.

A Christmas Poem

Yesterday morning, I awoke early and staggered into the bathroom. It was still dark out, but somehow, covered with the cobwebs of sleep, I had a thought. It was like a tiny candle at the other end of a long, dark hallway, but I saw it none-the-less. It was an idea for a poem.
Now you should know that I write poetry, but not on command. Sometimes, I have poetry-moods - when I write several masterpieces, followed, of course, by poetry droughts, when I wonder how I ever wrote anything poetic, and cannot imagine creating anything new. Well... the drought is over...
Oh, and if anyone would like to use my copyrighted poem for non-commercial use only, you may copy it, print it out and have fun. Here it is:

A Lamb's Tale

By Davis Bigelow

I slept in the field,

That night, when they shone.

Their heavenly light,

Was brighter than dawn.

I heard sacred words,

But had to remain,

Away from the child,

On Bethlehem's plain.

The shepherds all left.

I trembled in fright.

Would I be quite safe?

In the dark of the night?

Silence was rent,

By my a little lamb voice.

I'd have looked for the Christ,

If given the choice.

But such was my a lot,

To wait for the word,

That my Shepherd would tell,

Later on to my herd.

I 'ner saw for myself,

Though I lived, oh so close.

I could choose to believe,

Or be deaf like a post.

But my young Shepherd friend,

Was honest and fair.

I hung on his tale,

'Bout Bethlehem there.

The night Christ was laid,

In a manger with hay.

The night God came down,

For men's souls for to pay.

I felt in my heart,

That the tale was right.

My ears heard the truth,

And my heart filled with light.

Like me, some men are.

Their eyes never see.

Some hear just the words,

And believe, just like me.

 

My New Business Card

First, I'd like to welcome all the new readers. I hope you enjoy my blog. My website still isn't quite ready, but soon. I am trying to animate the introduction screen, using my new logo. When I say "I", I mean Josh, (my daughter, Amberle's boyfriend). He does computer animation, so I left the task in his capable hands - or is it his mouse?

My adventure to Red Deer, this past Thursday and Friday, ended well. Thanks again to everyone who helped out with that. To reload, for my return trip, I had to drive south-east for an hour and a half, so I didn't get home until late. But I did get home!! :D

My website may not be ready, but I have finally completed my business card. I spent hours playing with logo designs! Last night, when I went to pick up my repaired truck - (I do hope it stays working this time!) - I took my business card to get printed. For those of you who only visit me online, here it is - larger than life of course.

Oh, there is one more matter to tell you about. Sadly, I never got to 50,000 words written by the end of November. :( Considering my extremely busy life, writing over 14,000 words in 20 days seems pretty good to me. The good news, however, is that I am going to finish the novel to see if it really will be 50,000 words in length. :) Maybe I'll save the rest for next November. I have a five page outline , so I should, in theory, be able to shelf the project and begin again right where I left off. I am considering publishing the novel on line - perhaps a chapter at a time on my website, but the ideas are still swirling. Anyone have a recommendation for me? (If you wish to get in touch with me, but don't want to leave a comment here, you can go to my profile and email me.)

I'm Sure I'd Rather Be Writing - Where Its Warm!

Well, I wish I could report more writing, but I do too much working instead. Yesterday morning, I left Taber, Alberta bound for Red Deer with almost 44 metric tons of sugar beet pellets in my two trailers. Everything went well, except that my truck was in the shop and the one I borrowed had poor heat. I got loaded up quickly and was off. The next few hours were spent flying down the highway while regularly scraping frost off my side windows. When the sun finally came out, it helped a lot.
I drove north, deciding to take Highway 21 (A two lane road with light traffic) instead of Highway 2 (A four-lane road with heavy traffic). At 110 kph, as I powered up to climb out of a long, deep coolie (a valley), I caught a glimpse of something in the ditch behind me. It was a puff of snow shot into the air. I gazed into my driver's side mirror in time to see a pair of my trailer's tires rolling through the ditch and into nowhere land! I had felt no strange vibrations or had I seen anything to betray the problem when I had inspected my trailers two-and-a-half hours before. At the top of the hill, where the road widened, I pulled over and had a look. All that was left of my tires was the mangled hub and chewed up brake pads! I was so glad I had taken the less travelled road!!! A 300 pound, 100km per hour, rolling projectile would not have done good things to a car! Or the occupants!!!!
Eventually, I drove slowly, the 19km to the town of Acme, Alberta where the good guys at Redline helped me out. We returned to the scene to get the lost tires. They were still together, complete with the heavy steel brake drum attached. Weird, that they didn't come apart.
Once back in Acme, I was given the repair news. I expected to find a Wile-E-Coyote parts supply store in the tiny town, but was disappointed. Some of my needed parts had to come from Calgary - the next day! Joy! Well, one of the guys just happened to live either in or near Calgary, and offered to pick up the parts I needed on his way to work. I left Acme hoping to be back on the road by 9:30am the next day.
I drove to Three Hills, Alberta and checked into the Super 8. Very nice! And better than that, it was warm!!!! I felt like Sam Magee from Tennessee in Robert Service's poem, "Since I left Plum Tree, down in Tennessee, this is the first time I've been warm!"
Right now, it is nearly 8am, the day after, and I am eating an awesome breakfast at the warm hotel/motel. My cold truck is plugged in outside waiting for the key to return. (Must I go back out there??? It's -17 Celsius!) I'll let you know how it turns out...., but Kudos to Lori and the rest of the Super 8 staff in Three Hills as well as to John and the other workers at Redline in Acme. Thanks for coming to work and thanks for the awesome jobs you are doing!!! :)

A Suit, a Coat and a Snow Shovel

Nine thirty on Wednesday morning, I found myself southbound through the town of Coaldale, Alberta. It all seemed ordinary – I mean, I have driven my Super B grain truck through the small town who knows how many times? This morning, however, things were different. As I rolled through the stoplight and passed the school, I was alert for moving cars, trucks and people. About a block south of the school, something caught my searching eyes. It was a young man dressed in a black suit and standing beside a pure white car. Our first snow had fallen overnight, and the streets weren’t exactly the place to stand in your shiny black dress shoes. I did a double take. Nevertheless, there he was, big as life.

My second look was longer than the first, and in those few seconds, I formed an opinion. In those few seconds, I jumped to conclusions that, while not certain, I felt that they were probable.

The car was a clean, white hearse. Just in from the curb, where the car sat, an old lady walked on her snow-covered sidewalk. She was holding a snow shovel and looked careworn. From its colours, her coat appeared to be borrowed from the 1970’s, yet it seemed sound. Compassion welled up within me as I took it in. The clean-cut gentleman, standing by the white car, appeared to be waiting for her. She had probably just lost her husband, yet there she was, cleaning her walks and wearing a coat that she had carefully looked after for decades. Perhaps she had looked after her failing husband with the same tender care? My semi rolled on by, but I was left with a chest full of feelings. Compassion. Respect. Admiration. Would I just go about getting things done if I had just lost my wife? I felt convicted by my conscience. If that happened to me, I would most likely be holding the pity part of the century! What an example of doing what all living things should do – live. Live, in spite of whatever troubles may come.

Of all things... A lighthouse cartoon!! Cool!!

This past week has found me putting in lots of hours at work. Sorry I haven't got to posting, but finally, here I am. A few days ago, my daughter's boyfriend sent me this link to a lighthouse comic strip. I laughed and laughed. Maybe I found it so funny cuz I have some practical experience with this sort of thing, but maybe you all will enjoy it too.

As for my first fiction novel, "In Ravenscrag's Shadow", I am approaching 10,000 words, but I'm not quite there yet. For the most part, I have written it on my laptop, utilizing tiny blocks of free time in my workday. For those of you who don't know, I drive a double trailer semi, hauling grain around so that cows can eat, get fat, and ... well, you know the rest. I often have to wait for other trucks to empty or to load, and whenever it looks like a few free minutes will present themselves, I grab on with both hands. Since I have so little free time, this technique is also how my first book was written. That book is more appropriately named, however, "Three Seconds On, Three Seconds Off". Some days, I take out my laptop and three seconds is all I get!

Speaking of "Three Seconds On, Three Seconds Off - Volume 1", the editor is still working his magic and I am just waiting (and writing more stuff). I do expect to hear something soon. On a very positive note, my publisher has taken a look at my artwork (I do my own interpretation of west coast native drawings). He liked it very much and wants to include most, if not all of it in Volume 1. It takes me a long time to complete a piece, but I do have a few to choose from. I need to get the 8 1/2 x 11 inch drawings digitized soon. Maybe this weekend - if I don't have to work again.
Later.... and Thanks for dropping in.

My First Book Review

"The tale of a family that turned isolation into adventure. Bigelow's
writing style draws you into his world, with descriptive and personal
language that has you hearing the laughter and smelling the salt air. A
piece of real, live Canadian history, "Three Seconds On, Three Seconds
Off" is enlightening and uplifting story-telling.

Bruce Streibel
Faculty of Fine Arts
University of Lethbridge

Thanks for the literary ride. Cheers!"

The "Comments" option?

One of my readers was kind enough to write a note to me on her blog and let me know that she could no longer post comments on my blog. I looked into it, and hopefully the "comment" option will appear on this post. If I did repair the problem, the repair wasn't retroactive. I tried editing my last post, and then republishing it, but that didn't work. Here goes nothin'

Lest We Forget...

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place;

and in the sky

The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead.

Short days ago

We lived, saw dawn, felt sunset glow,

Loved, and were loved,

and now we lie

In Flanders fields.

Take up your quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw The torch;

be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep,

though poppies grow

In Flanders fields.

Written by Doctor Major (later Lieutenant-Colonel) John McCrae (1872-1918) of the 1st Field Artillery Brigade wrote this poem on May 3, 1915 after the battle at Ypres. The poem was later published in "Punch", December 8, 1915. John McCrae served in the Canadian Army.

A Worthy Adventure!!!

You won't believe it if I told you! (But I'm going to give it a shot anyway.) As of the evening of November 4th, I am writing a fiction novel of 50,000 words - by the end of the month! Sounds wild? Check out the website that is hosting this wild event. http://www.nanowrimo.org/ OR just click on my link at the top right of this blog.
My daughter, Amberle as well as her boyfriend, Josh both told me about it so I took a look and was hooked.
Here is my progress so far:
Nov 5th - Outlined the basic plot and story from start to finish.

Nov 5th, 6th - Researched names for the characters and places - (they all came from the place name list from the Canadian Province of Saskatchewan).

Nov 7th, 8th, 9th - Assigned names to everyone and everything in the novel. Expanded the story into detailed structure. It went from a one page outline to five pages.

Today, Nov 10th - Strap on my microphone and tell the story to my computer - (it will write it from my dictation). I'll let you know how far I get.

A brief outline of the novel: Glen McPherson and Stan Calderbank leave their wives, Lille and Alida (respectively) at their base camp near a beautiful lake nestled in the Mistawasis Mountains to pursue a five day backpacking adventure. Near the end of the first day, the two middle aged men are exploring off the trail when they fall, badly injuring themselves. The area is several hundred yards from their packs and is extremely rocky and rugged. Big C (Stan) sustains a broken femur, three broken ribs, a concussion and several cuts and bruises. Stan's trauma is worse because, during the fall, Glen is knocked unconscious and partially lands on top of Stan. Glen is also bruised and bloodied, but is still able to move about. His left ankle is so badly hurt that he's not sure if it is broken, but it cannot bear any weight.
The two adventurers know that no one will come searching for them for five days, and that they will have to survive unaided. The remote area is home to bears, among other creatures, so Glen will not leave Stan alone while he hobbles the five kilometers back to their pickup truck to get help.

9:49AM - 812 words written
1:51PM - 2431 words written - I love this fiction thing - it is so awesome!!! :)

A Warm "Hello"

This past week or so, my blog has crossed a language barrier. I have been visited by a woman in Madrid, Spain who is writing a novel. Her blog is in Spanish, but she left some English comments on my blog entry dated Oct 6, 2007. Her blog is http://desierto1.blogspot.com/, for anyone wanting to visit it. (There is a little English for the uni-lingual.) A few other readers have also visited my blog, and I find it so awesome! A visitor from New Delhi, India, one from Torino, Italy, two more from Spain, one from Singapore, Australia, Belgium, Germany, Brazil, Jamaica , Norway, Korea and a few others have also dropped in, bringing my list of non-North American visitors to at least twenty. In my upcoming book, just past the fly leaf, it says,

"Dedicated
to
my family and friends
and to all of you,
other friends
I haven’t met…

Yet."

When I layed the humble beginnings of this blog, it never occurred to me that so many would be so interested so soon. I mean, I haven't even published yet, and a curious audience of nice people are already gathering in anticipation. So far, no one has even mentioned a stash of rotten vegetables they are waiting to throw. :) Now I have imaginations of unpopular, Medieval, outdoor, stage plays! :) :) I shouldn't have gone there, but oh well. Now that I have, can't you just see the smelly old hag at the back - the one with the ratty hair, rotten teeth and oozing lettuce? "Incoming!" I can hardly type for the laughter!

At any rate, the very kind reception I have so far received on the World Wide Web, is both amazing and overwhelming. So... thanks... Thanks to all of you, other friends I have now met, and to you who will yet drop in for a visit. It is good to meet you all.

More Pins & Needles!

Hey, "Three Seconds" fans here is the latest skinny on "the book"! As of today, I have digitized 245 photographs and separated most of them into individual files, using their respective years of creation to create a rough time line of images. The result is nicer than I anticipated, especially as far as the slides are concerned. A lot of the slides have a month, year and number printed on them, so when I add a digitized slide to the file, it automatically goes to find other slides in the same sequence. I love computer technology!!! :)

In the last couple of weeks, I have also done some preliminary work on Volumes II & III, and am still in the process of separating the approximately 60 titles I have left. I am excited to begin writing the stories. Sorting them only teases me. Of course, coming across photos that will go in any one of those 60 stories doesn't help either. I sure love to write!

The other awesome news is that today, believe it of not, I created the very first hard copy of Three Seconds On, Three Seconds Off - Volume I. It took me about an hour to print it out, and another ten minutes to punch holes in the pages so it will fit in a binder - a large one, considering I couldn't print double sided. At 245 pages in length, it is heavy! (I am secretly pleased!) This actual, real, tangible manuscript is off to an interested reader who plans on condensing their impressions of my 245 pages into a couple of lines of testimonial to go on my website. (The site is nearly finished, but not quite yet... wait for it... wait for it.... OK, if you must, you can keep checking at davisbigelow.com, but I will announce its birth.)

I do have to run now, but thank you all for dropping in to visit me. I think it is amazing how many people are excited about this project. Talk to you again soon.

All About Perspective

I read a post this morning that got me thinking about how we see the world around us. It was a short description of a series of fairly unimpressive events, but when the events were combined into a singe snap-shot, they took on a charm that was impressive. At least for me. As I mused about why the story had transformed so dramatically, I realized something that now seems obvious.

Ironic isn't it that the best stories are often captured from seemingly ordinary events of life? All we have to do is notice. Whether we know it or not, I sincerely believe that we all live extraordinary lives. It is true that perhaps they are boring and mundane to us, but not to everyone. Anyone who’s existence is foreign to our own life's experience usually finds our life’s story fascinating, engaging and maybe even riveting and entertaining. The vantage point of another's perspective is what we often lack. Instead of feeling like our lives are a miracle to savour, we sometimes hang our heads and feel insignificant.

Here is Traci's story about her young son, Luke.

Slides, Slides and More Lighthouse Slides

I have been working hard on photos, and yesterday, I digitized 80 slides. It was sweet to see scenes I hadn't looked upon for many years, and sweeter still to know that they are now preserved in a modern medium that I can use and share with all of you. Here are three of my favourites. The top right is of my Dad in 1959, looking northeast with Pointer Island in the background. As far as the other small one goes, I took it in 1976 - looking Southwest at the sunset from the back porch of the big (middle) house on the lighthouse. With the big one of the rainbow, I got artsy, and composed it sideways. Photoshop came to its rescue and it now I think it looks pretty good. In the spring of 1976, I got my second camera, complete with a B&W darkroom. It was a dream come true! My first camera had been a waist-level Brownie which had served me surprisingly well for many years. The 35mm SLR (previously enjoyed by a former owner) came with a couple of lenses and a 2x converter, giving me the lens options of 50mm, 100mm, 200mm and 400mm. At age 16, tripods were for someone else. I thought I could hand hold every shot at any shutter speed and unfortunately, I did. As you may already have guessed, not all the shots I took were free from camera shake. Although, all the years of holding a pair of binoculars steady did help a lot. Oh that I could go back in time with my tripod!

Passion? Let me think about it.

Thank you all for your comments. I find it very refreshing to hear from fellow authors.
It seems that you all have a common knack of seeing the extraordinary in the ordinary and the gift of being able to put the precipitating thoughts and moods into meaningful words for others to relish. I've decided that that is precisely what I love about reading books. I get to see through the unique glasses, telescopes and microscopes of others.

Yesterday, as I was driving my 900 kilometers, I spent some time pondering, and focused a lot on Ajoy's (September 28, 2007) comment (on my blog) about passion. I don't consider myself a passionate person, yet perhaps I am. I really love the richness of life, and seem to notice more flowers along its scenic path than many others I meet. One of the sweetest parts of my job is being able to witness the majority of sunrises and sunsets in a year. In many ways, I think they are like me as well as all of you. Same old sun and sky - day in and day out, yet every dawn and dusk is singularly unique and worth my rapt attention.

As I pondered the meaning of passion, I realized that I probably misunderstood the meaning. I looked up "Passion" and here are most of the synonyms - according to the Reader's Digest Family Word Finder:
emotions, feeling, warmth, heart, ardor, fervor, fire, intensity, sentiment, rapture, transport, ecstasy, intoxication, enthusiasm, earnestness, gusto, eagerness, vehemence, obsession, fancy, craving, urge, desire, hunger, thirst, idol, beloved, infatuation, flame, inamorata. Although I don't feel all these things every day, I do feel most of them - I guess I'm guilty as charged Ajoy.

In your comment, Ajoy, you asked, "How in the world do you live with such passion from day to day?" I hadn't really thought about it, but now that I have, that insightful question deserves an answer:
My life hasn't always been this way. Nearly fifteen years ago, my life hit bottom. It wasn't a trip and fall and scraped knee sort of thing, but more of a plunge down a deep, dry well with a face-first landing on the rough stone bottom. It was my own fault, and it was painfully obvious to me that I required a lot more than some fresh makeup on my face. It took a while, but eventually, I re-defined my life - for the better. Ever since then, I have tried to live life as if every day was my last. I haven't always succeeded in that, yet my day-to-day struggle along the path of life has carried me far. I feel a bit like the frog described by Boyd K. Packer - "You can't tell how high a frog will jump just by looking at him."

As a result of the profound changes to my mental and emotional habits, I lost my near-photographic memory, but I got benefits that outweighed the loss. I suppose that I am the same core person I always was, but today, my new mental and emotional habits allow my core person to interface with the rest of the world in a profoundly different way than I ever used to. To me, life is new every day. Each person I meet is a unique creation with as much value as I have. If I pay attention, I can learn something from anyone I meet. Today, I set goals and reach them. I am on the grand adventure of life, and who knows what awesome things I will discover today? How can I help but feel such passion? Look at what awesome things I would probably miss if I did not? ... Thank you for asking.