Auntie Ruth loves family. She should. She has so much of it. Lucky woman.

She began life on May 4, 1930 in Winnipeg the second daughter born to Wanda and Joseph Stock, fresh off crossing the Atlantic by boat from Germany.

Her sister Hildegard (the mother of Clive and myself), six years old at the time, and cousin Hal Reich, were on their tip-toes peering over the window sill at 104 Eaton St., in the Elmwood neighbourhood in attempt to get a look at the new baby.

After growing up on the family farm in the Shellbrook/Brightholm area of Saskatchewan, an 18-year-old Ruth married a handsome young farmer from Radisson. Reinhold Meister was one of 10 siblings. The union automatically gave her a slew of in-laws.

They started a family of their own. They had Linda in 1951, adopted Richard a few years later, and gave birth to Anne-Marie in 1961.

Life wasn’t always easy. Ruth often had to help out with harvesting and all sorts of chores along with the many other duties she carried out in the two-storey farmhouse. Linda and Anne-Marie became nurses while Richard finally found a home in the computer technology business, first in Vancouver and now in Calgary. He recently lost his beloved husband Scott.

When Reinhold came down with a debilitating illness, Ruth became a caregiver to her husband. After doing so for many years in their home, she drove many a dangerous winter night from Radisson to Saskatoon to visit and help out Reinhold at the care home he eventually wound up in. It was hard to see such a vibrant, strong man become so reliant on others. It wasn’t like him to ask for help, but help was what he needed and she was there for him.

Shortly after he passed away, a recently widowed farmer named Alan Hosegood came calling to offer his condolences, as everyone in small towns do. They hit it off, and before anyone knew it these two septuagenarians were announcing wedding plans. They did everything together. All of sudden, Ruth was part of another large family because Alan had a clan of his own and both sides were very accepting.

Alan and Auntie Ruth were together 11 wonderful years. They made annual six-week winter getaways to Hawaii always making a point of visiting Mother and Father, while they were alive, during their stopovers in Vancouver. Unfortunately a few years ago, Alan, too passed away. The development devastated her. She moved out of her cherished home in Radisson she had shared with two husbands into a two-bedroom condo in Saskatoon. Eventually it was family that began to give her life again.

Her family has grown to the point where she has five grandchildren and 11 great-grandchildren. And she follows all of their comings and goings in all sorts of ways including using her new iPad.

Her original family only included one sibling. That was our mother. They had an unbreakable bond that endured from the day by the window sill to being the one at Mother’s bedside when she passed away.

Auntie Ruth cared for her older sister’s kids, too. She’s always been a delight to be around and to talk to. She cares and she has fun. And she put up with us – I mean, put us up – when we came for our big Prairie family vacations in 1960, 1964, 1968 and 1971 as well as a few other times such as Linda’s confirmation in 1967.

Clive and I had some wonderful moments with Auntie Ruth on Wednesday when we had a super visit with her, lunch at The Station in Downtown Saskatoon, a walk on the Meewasin Trail and later dinner on her patio deck.

If she has one fault it’s that she worries so much. For example, when Fort McMurray was evacuated earlier this month, the day before her 86th birthday, her thoughts and prayers were totally with our brother Ian, his wife Rosamond Smith and son Matthew as they left their home and sought refuge in St. Albert, Alta. She was worried sick about them and frantically sought any news that she could get about their whereabouts and situation. She was so grateful when Rosamond was able to give her a call, and her concern was so appreciated by Ian’s family.

Love you Auntie Ruth. You’re the best!

• Permit me one more wind whine. I know I wrote a blog about the wicked winds of Saskatchewan earlier this week and you’re sick of my grousing and grumbling. Well it seems the weather gods didn’t take too kindly to the blog. It got worse before it got better.

On Saturday, it took Clive and I about eight to nine hours of riding to go 115 kilometres from Lanigan to Foam Lake. His average speed was 11.9 km/h, mine slightly better. We battled winds coming out of the southeast or south that were in the 30-50 kilometre range all day. Guess what direction we were going in. Of course, southeast.

The worst was a stretch of Highway 16 where it joins Highway 6 as it runs north up to Melfort. We had to go south directly into the teeth of the wind as we crossed a causeway between two lakes that looked more like oceans because of the whitecaps and surf on them.

We started the day at 7 a.m. hoping to only be saddled with the light wind that usually prevails in the early morning. Uh, uh. That was a no go. We staggered into Wynyard, 61 kilometres away, five hours later for our lunch break. It was another 50-plus kilometres to Foam Lake. Clive was the smart one. About halfway to Foam Lake he took a break seeking refuge from the wind and sun by resting beside farm machinery on display at the side of the road near the junction of Highways 16 and 2. He also stopped to rest and decided to walk his heavily loaded Surly instead of cycling into the wind. Clive said he hadn’t done anything like that since he had a single-speed bike when he was a teenager. I pressed on only stopping for the occasional gulp of water and in the process may have caused an issue with my right calf that flared up as I limped into Foam Lake.

In comparison, Sunday’s 92-kilometre ride from Foam Lake to Yorktown was a breeze (pardon the bad and obvious pun). As soon as we left we were doing speeds double and triple anything we’d done the day before. But this is Saskatchewan and adversity must be suffered. In addition to the cramp, or whatever it is in my leg, rearing its ugly head again Sunday, my back wheel broke down. Clive’s did a good job of making it rideable but we’ve got our fingers crossed we can make it into Manitoba and get it fixed in Brandon, hopefully, or Winnipeg.

• Speaking of Wynyard, Breanna’s mom Kathy Berggren-Clive notes her family moved there from Regina when she was in Grade 3 and they left when she was in Grade 9 (we’re presuming that was six years later and not more) to take up residence in Campbell River. Although Wynyard had been contemplated as an overnight spot for us It was just a lunch stop. However, it was a welcome sight to come into town after surviving the first part of our wind nightmare. My big-sized Subway diet cola went down fast as we watched the wind whip the trees across the road and the flags of all the businesses up and down the frontage road.

Kilometre count

Day 22 (May 21) Lanigan to Foam Lake 115 km; Total (18 days riding) 2,057km

Day 23 (May 22) Foam Lake to Yorkton 93 km; Total (19 days riding) 2,150 km