My husband


My husband

My husband has such good taste. This is just a test to see if he ever reads my blog.



That’s our boy

Very proud of our youngest, Benjamin, touring on keys with Rhye in the past few weeks. Denmark, Norway, Calgary’s Sled Island Festival and just last night, Massey Hall in Toronto. We hoofed it out to Calgary and spent a few rainy hours with Ben before sound check, before the show and afterwards. Ben introduced us to the band, all lovely people, and all so complimentary of Ben and his musicianship. They almost didn’t need spotlights because of our beaming faces in the sold out crowd at the Central United Church. First shot is one of the Schwier men before the show. At the church. Then that’s Ben on stage about a week ago in Aarhus, Denmark, photo by our favourite daughter-in-law Julia. Finally a picture I found online of the show last night in Toronto. Wish we could have been at all of them!




Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

I think it’s pretty safe to say my father is unique among Dads! Thanks, Dad, for passing on your love of books, animals, and the great outdoors. Math, sorry, not so much 🙂 My Dad has steadfastly refused to live a conventional life so has always been a source of amazement, pride, and entertainment for my brother and me. Early lessons about getting our chores done, and by extension whatever the job might be, set us up for a willingness to work for what we want in life. Dad taught me to balance a chequebook, save money first, where to look for the Big Dipper, and to treat all animals with the same care you would treat people. “Slugs have feeings, too.”

Here’s my Dad when he was known as “Freddie” – the bookworm in the apple of my Grandma Melberg’s eye.


And here he is below, sweeping my Mom off her feet on their honeymoon – just the two of them in a riverboat plying the Athabasca River in the early 1950s. This wasn’t exactly an all-inclusive, but they were happy to find a trapper’s cabin to stay in one night. Shh, if you put your ear to your computer, you can hear mosquitoes!

Have a good day, Dad! And thanks for everything.

Your youngest kid,



Tick tock

Had my grandmother’s wonderful clock repaired lately (Thank you Wiley’s! Wish you were still on Broadway but I think I’d travel any distance for your service. And just downtown isn’t that far away). I inherited this from my Gramma Freda Anderson; she lived in Minnesota like all good transplanted Swedes. She wore cotton house dresses, Keds runners and always an apron. I am very happy I ended up with this clock that always sat next to her bed. Judy at Wiley’s says the guts are all metal, not like the cheapies nowdays with the plastic innards. This is the only clock we trust to never fail us when we have to be up at 4 a.m. for one of those fabulous Saskatoon 6 a.m. flights! Thanks, Gramma.



And speaking of ticks, the little buggers are out and about in full force this spring. The cat hauled one in the other night. I felt itchy for days! I found this handy guide online if you ever find a tick on your person, or spouse (unfortunately rhymes with louse), child or pet. This is from The Art of Manliness. Man or woman, finding a tick is no time to be squeamish. Be calm (although this is a little like Bill Bryson’s descrption of being told to stand very still if he ever came across a snake in the Australian outback. Stand still? A human being has never moved so fast: