Hockey Night in Canada Somewhere – by Barbara Baker

 

My seven-year-old grandson, Wyatt, loves to play hockey. As a gramma, who played on the Banff girl’s team fifty years ago, I got up the courage to play shinny with him and his dad. I felt naked without the hockey padding but tightened my helmet and stepped onto the ice.

The puck ricocheted off the boards and the slap of the sticks echoed off the mountains.

“Gramma scored,” my son-in-law shouted.

“Off course she did.” Wyatt tapped his stick on the ice. “She was on a hockey team a long time ago.”

Out of the mouths of babes. My heart melted.

Memories of playing hockey as a teenager flooded back. In the mid 70s two of my high school teachers started a girl’s team and enrolled us in the Minor Hockey League.

We had many obstacles to overcome before our first game:

-    learning the rules (important)

-    learning to skate on hockey skates instead of figure skates (challenging)

-    the art of stick handling, passing without losing the puck, and skating fast (equally challenging)

-    there were no funds to buy team jackets (minor detail – we knit toques for everyone)

There was a wide range of athletic abilities amongst us, but we were determined. Not even the 6 AM Sunday morning ice times deterred us.

(top row 3^rd from the left)

We surpassed all our obstacles and our first game was against Jasper.

The game started. They skated fast. They deeked and passed and zipped up and down the ice like super stars. But we kept up. And then there was a bam. Our centre got slammed into the boards.

I stood in the box with my mouth open. My teammates wore similar expressions. Our coaches - speechless.

What the hell? We all looked at the ref. Nothing. He did nothing.

I watched our player lean against the boards and pull herself up. When my line went out I took my spot – left forward. Skate fast. Pass. Stay out of their way. That was my strategy.

I flew down the ice (it’s my memory, I can go as fast as I want). Just as I went to pass to a teammate, I felt a thunk. The next instant I was on my back looking at the overhead lighting.

I rolled over, got up on my knees and blinked. That hurt. A lot.

“It’s a long way from the heart,” Coach shouted. “Get up.” They were the exact words I needed to hear to stop the tears.

We lost 13 – 0. We should have been devastated but we weren’t. We were just thankful we could all still walk.

From then on, our practices involved: how to check, how to take a check, how to avoid a check.

Fast forward to our next game against Jasper. We lost 4-0 but we were all proud of our defeat. We hadn’t been thumped.

Our final game against Jasper was the Easter Tournament in Banff. In the first period there was a battle of sticks in front of their net. And then the red light went on. The red light!

We scored a goal.

It felt like the whole team scored that goal. And it was the only goal of the game. A shutout our coaches talked about for years. We were victorious.

           Now back to the goal I scored while playing hockey with my sweet grandson and my son-in-law.

  

Who am I to tell Wyatt the goal I scored was not intentional? I’d merely leaned on my stick to stop from toppling over after turning too fast. My stick hit the ice just in time for the puck to deflect off it and into the net. Almost like I planned it. But I didn't tell him any of that. I'll let him think I'm a super star for a bit longer. 

 

You can contact me at: bbaker.write@gmail.com

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

 

 

He’s Determined to Ski Again – Barbara Baker

 

In 1937, when Dad was five-years-old, he learned to ski in his hometown, Partenkirchen, Germany. His first pair of skis were handmade. 

Years later when he started racing, he crashed while training and broke his femur. He said it was hours before ski patrollers found him because he’d flown off the course and into the trees.

While he was in the hospital, with his leg in traction and strapped to a sky hook, bombs shook the building. Nurses ran through the ward shouting for patients to get under their beds. Dad laughs when he tells the story and says all he could do was put a pillow over his head.

Dad has skied all his life but took a two-year hiatus when he was 88 years old so he could have a long-over-due knee replacement. After the surgery, he exercised. He walked. He exercised some more. He was determined to ski again.

On January 10, 2023, we arrived at the Mt. Norquay ski resort, outside of Banff, well before the lifts opened. I forced myself to slow down - my walking, my talking (I can be a chatterbox). I wanted to focus on Dad and be helpful without him asking.

Boots on, skis on, poles in hand, we headed to the beginner hill. I stayed beside him as he tested out sliding and then climbing up the slope. Each time he climbed a bit higher.

Snow plow turns first. Then the stem christie maneuver. The parallel turns proved to be trickier. Dad’s new knee worked just fine and the leg slid nicely into place. But the old knee, which was used to being in charge for decades, was pushy and uncooperative. It rushed ahead of the uphill ski and Dad would have to stop to reposition himself.

After a few equipment adjustments and more practice, Dad was ready to go up the lift.

“Can you ask the liftie to slow it down?” he said as we got our tickets scanned at the Cascade chairlift.

I took a breath and gave a silent prayer to whomever was listening.

“Can you please slow it down,” I said to the lift operator. “He’s ninety. Testing out his new knee.”

“No problem,” the Aussie accented girl replied. “Just wave to the operator at the top and he’ll slow it down again for you to get off.”

“Perfect.”

The chair swung around and scooped us up. Dad scanned the run. He was quiet. So was I. As we got to the last tower I waved at the guy in the hut. He flagged a thumbs up. I nodded.

“I don’t know if I can stand,” Dad said.

I moved right next to him and squeezed his bicep. “I’ll just shuck you off if you can’t get up.”

He laughed. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

 After an uneventful exit we stood at the top and looked down the run. Dad nodded and slid his skis back and forth. Away he went. Again, I held my breath and followed but not too close. I didn’t want to rush him.

It took a few runs but soon his perfect parallel turns, quiet body and graceful carving cut across and down the slope.

The smile on his face, the sweat dripping down his cheeks and the twinkle in his eyes made all my fears and angst melt away.

He did it. Dad skied again.

Watch Dad ski again:  Dad Skiing Again - 90 years young - YouTube

You can contact me at: bbaker.write@gmail.com

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

 

What Happens Next? By Barbara Baker

Baker, Barbara - BWL Publishing Inc. (bookswelove.net)

After the release of What About Me? I panic. Do I need to post another ad on social media? Or have I done enough? Do stories and reels attract more viewer traffic than posts? Is Facebook, LinkedIn and Instagram sufficient? Should I try Pinterest or Booktok? Don’t get me going about hashtags. There are so many to choose from. How and when do you know if any of them work? With my first novel, book trailers were in. This time round, they’re old school. It’s hard to keep up with the trends.

I don’t want people to stop following me because they’re tired of hearing about my new release, so I resist all of the above and post a picture on Facebook of a pelican coming in for a rough landing.

Even Google waffles about which is the best approach to increase sales. Have you found the right way to get your book more exposure?  And, as if advertising isn’t frustrating enough, checking views, likes and comments becomes addictive and my thumb aches from scrolling.

I move on to counting down the days until I can check my book reviews. So I don’t drive myself (and my husband) bonkers about what readers are saying, I only check reviews on the 17^th of the month. I embrace my vacuum and give the floors a good workout if I’m tempted to peek earlier than said date.

Yes, I realize readers have a life. And when they get to the end of a book, they carry on with that life. Most readers never leave reviews. If they only knew how much they meant to authors, my vacuum wouldn’t be so exhausted and I wouldn’t cringe when I ask them to post a review (the reader, not my vacuum).

When I’m done fretting about what’s next and the fact the 17^th of the month is still a week away, a different worry sneaks in. Can I write another story about Jillian and her adventures in Banff? If so, what will be the crack in her world that makes the story unfold?

As I insert a fresh cartridge in my favourite pen and grab a brand-new notebook, words from an editor replay in my head. “You need to be a more prolific writer. You need to get out of Banff and find new characters.” I look up prolific - producing much fruit or foliage or many offspring. I must have picked the wrong definition. I'm done having kids. Grandkids are way more fun.

A tarot card reader told me “Stop playing it safe. Write what you really want to write about.” What the heck does that mean? Is it a coy way of saying get out of Banff? Ditch Jillian? Who are these people and why do they insist on taking up space in my head? They certainly aren’t paying rent and they bring on a wave of imposter syndrome.

Should I even write another book?

The perfect solution to all these chaotic thoughts about writing – a colourful fall road trip. Maybe Jillian will tag along. Maybe she’ll meet someone new and start an adventure somewhere else. Or maybe she’ll only come for a mini-vacation and return to Banff after all. Regardless, road trips inspire me. And yes, I realize I’m procrastinating but is that a bad thing?

For all those celebrating Thanksgiving, have a fabulous feast and enjoy the fall colours. In Calgary we haven't had snow yet and there's none in the forecast. Although I already have my ski pass purchased, I'm loving the unseasonably warm weather. I hope you are too.

  

What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

What About Me? | Universal Book Links Help You Find Books at Your Favorite Store! (books2read.com)

NEW RELEASE - What About Me? / by Barbara Baker

 

What About Me is a sequel to Summer of Lies and follows Jillian as she starts grade 10 in Banff a month after the semester begins. Being the new kid is always hard. Being the new kid in a small town, at a small school where everyone knows her business is the worst.

She loves her Opa but moving from Toronto to help Aunt Steph take care of him was not Jillian’s idea. As she navigates unfamiliar hallways and attempts to fit into her new surroundings, Jillian makes choices which impact her relationships and a potential boyfriend. Will the last choice she makes be the right one?

*****

If you’re familiar with Banff, you may recognize the sites Jillian sees. If you’ve hiked in the area, you may have walked the trails she takes. And, if you went to high school there, the formaldehyde smell will lead you right to the biology room.

Whether or not you’ve been to Banff, enjoy the landscapes through Jillian’s eyes.

*****

Banff attracts tourists from all over the world. They browse through the shops, take selfies with the dramatic Rocky Mountain backdrop or simply stroll the streets and take in the sites.

Since COVID, only pedestrian traffic is allowed on Banff Avenue during the summer holiday season. People amble about without dodging cars.

If crowds and shopping are not your thing, go a few streets west and access the wide walking trail which parallels the Bow River. Stroll out to Vermillion Lakes for post card views of Mt. Rundle.

Or go in the opposite direction and view the Bow Falls.

Elk, deer, or coyotes  may keep you company along the way but do not approach them. They’re wild animals. Attempting to get a selfie with an elk could be detrimental. To the elk. If it charges or hurts you, the elk will pay the price. It will be removed. Not you. Admire them from a distance.

If you want a great x-country bike ride, head past the Banff Springs Hotel and follow the Spray Lakes trail – the same road Jillian mountain biked. 

Within minutes, you’ll leave the busyness of town behind. The trail follows the Spray River and winds through the forest valley, flanked by mountain ranges on both sides. But DON’T forget your pepper spray in case you encounter a bear. The canister won’t do any good if you leave it in the car. Jillian is reminded often to be sure she has hers with her.

A couple days after the release of What About Me? I got a picture and text from a reader who went to one of the spots Jillian visits. 

Then another picture came. It makes my day to see people enjoying my story. Thanks to all you readers out there. You’re the reason I keep on writing.

I hope you enjoy What About Me? and if you’re thinking of visiting Banff and want suggestions, follow me on Facebook  Barbara Wackerle Baker | Facebook, Instagram Barbara Wackerle Baker (@bbaker.write) or send me a note bbaker.write@gmail.com.

What About Me?: Sequel to Summer of Lies : Baker, Barbara: Amazon.ca: Books

https://books2read.com/What-About-Me

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

Summer of Lies | Universal Book Links Help You Find Books at Your Favorite Store! (books2read.com)

I Wrote a Book - The End / by Barbara Baker

 

Whoa. Not so fast.

It feels fabulous to write The End but there’s more work to do. So much more work. First, I read the novel from start to finish. When I feel the plot is solid, the dialogue is smooth and shit happens in every chapter, I send the document to an editor and a few writing buddies who have great critique skills. Then I close the file and wait. 

Almost the longest wait ever.

Responses trickle in. I sift through suggestions, rejig sections I agree with, swear at not having caught my own errors and then, because I fiddle fart around with the text, I recheck the story threads to make sure the sequence of events still work.

Once that’s done, I check for excess use of ‘ly’ endings in adverbs and adjectives and move on to search for those bad words. You know the ones: was, felt, very, had, thought, saw, very suddenly (never use), that, only, and for some reason (also, never use). I've collected these words from speakers at writing conferences so don’t blame me for the list.

Next, a quick review of exclamation marks. Did you know some agents will search the manuscript for them and if there are too many, they won’t read a single word? Again, not my experience. I learned that tidbit from a panel of agents who were discussing their editing process. And personally, I probably used up my quota of exclamation marks by grade 10.

Then it’s on to spell, grammar and punctuation check with the Word edit tool. Yup, tedious but necessary. It still surprises me how my favourite words aren’t in their dictionary yet.

Nearly done.

One. More. Final. Read. I am a firm believer of reading aloud to find errors my eyes skim over when I read to myself. I like to do it in two consecutive days, so everything is fresh, but I procrastinate. By the end of day one my house is spotless, and I’ve done 10,000 steps. Not a single page turned.

Day two, I plunk down in my office chair. My screen is dust free. The light is perfect. I change Word’s Read Aloud program voice to a male, speed it up a notch and increase the screen viewing size.

As the unsexy voice tells my story, I follow on the screen to spot errors. Thirty-seven pages in, I find a typo. How’d I miss that? How’d my readers miss it?

Two days later, a huge sigh of relief. The End. Again.

And off my baby goes to the publisher.

Fingers, toes and eyes crossed, I walk, I bike, I invite grandchildren over to play. Days take longer than 24 hours and I’m grumpy.

Longest wait ever – but only for me.

The publisher’s edit returns. I open the document and check the comments. One, two, three pages in without edits, a few notes, more pages without…I breathe when I get to The End for the last time.

When the manuscript returns and the book cover pops into my email, my heart melts.

It’s perfect.

What About Me? Release date September 1, 2022. 

How do you know when you’ve finally reached The End? What’s your process?

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

Summer of Lies - YouTube

Smashwords – About Barbara Baker, author of 'Summer of Lies'

Barbara Wackerle Baker | Facebook

Barbara Wackerle Baker (@bbaker.write)

 

Road Trip by Barbara Baker

Going to Lethbridge, Alberta. Those familiar with Alberta geography might say ‘why’. Others might suggest putting rocks in my pocket. Both are valid statements.

First stop, Head-Smashed-In Buffalo Jump - a UNESCO World Heritage site west of Fort MacLeod. The site preserves and interprets over 6,000 years of Blackfoot culture. According to the legend, a young boy wanted to see what it looked like when buffalo fell over the cliff. After the carcasses were removed, they found the boy’s body. The buffalo piled so high they smashed his head into the face of the cliff.

As I read the plaques along the trail, I try to imagine what the first buffaloes felt when they realized going over the cliff was inevitable. Or would a buffalo realize their demise was imminent?

The views across the plains are endless to the east and west. The lemon-yellow buffalo bean leans in the breeze and mixes with the wild rose scent as the landscape runs into the snow-covered Rockies.

After a quick lunch stop, we head for our destination. Lucky for me, there is road construction outside Lethbridge and it’s at the best vantage point for a picture of the train trestle referred to as the High Level Bridge. I jump out of the car, dash to the edge of the ridge, snap a few pictures and am back in my seat before the flag person waves us on.

I came here to learn about fossils. As a newbie rockhound with a ‘still shiny’ rock hammer, I’m keen to have fossil names roll off my tongue. If they didn’t have so many syllables it would be a lot easier – Brachiopoda, Articulata, Pachyrhinosaurus. I can remember red rock is pomegranates, but it took me a few times to realize ‘never take me for granite’ is rockhound humour. Also…faults, plates and shifts sound impressive if I could just remember the right sequence which creates the seam I stand on.

The specific type of rock I want to find is called Ammonite. To be honest, unless it’s stamped on the rock ‘I’M AN AMMONITE’, I’m not sure I’d recognize a fossil. But I love being outside and like shiny things so I’m game to see what I can find.

            Spring run off hasn’t started which makes it easy to walk along the wide banks of the Oldman River. With safety glasses on, I smash rock in the bank and watch it crumble. Nothing. I crack boulders as a pair of adult geese and 18 goslings float by. They make me thankful I only have three kids.

Bald eagles scout out their next meal as I roll stones over.

Trails run up the banks and into the river valley. A couple mountain bikes zip by. A fisherman with the biggest smile waves a large whitefish at us. More rock smashing and then around the corner, I see a cliff. Even in my newbie rockhound status, I can tell the layers in the face are different. Too bad it’s across the river. Apparently, people have found shark teeth in the sediment.

I did not find any Ammonites but am pleased with the lava rock (almost light as a feather) and worm fossils I uncovered. A fun and educational road trip with great food along the way and, of course, red wine.

Where are you going? If you could go anywhere, where would you end up?

Summer of Lies: Baker, Barbara:9780228615774: Books - Amazon.ca

Summer of Lies - YouTube

Smashwords – About Barbara Baker, author of 'Summer of Lies'

Barbara Wackerle Baker | Facebook

Barbara Wackerle Baker (@bbaker.write)

         bbaker.write@gmail.com