Rose's Cantina

On Saturday, the friends and family of Ashley Marie Simpson will gather to play games, drink some suds and raise some money in her honor. The fundraiser is meant to raise awareness for the We Canada Walk for Missing and Murdered Indigenous Woman Foundation, along with the Shuswap Search and Rescue team who helped in the search for Ashley after she went missing. Here are the details. As people who read my posts know, Ashley is my cousin. I never met her. I moved away from our home of St. Catharines four decades ago, before Ashley was born. I didn't know my cousin John, either, and have only distant memories of his brothers and sisters who were adopted by my aunts and uncles. Thanks to Ashley Marie, I know them now. We have been brought together by her tragic disappearance on that cool day in April. Nearly every day, her family and friends hold a virtual prayer circle in her honor. Ashley's pals post selfies and messages on Facebook. This summer, they participat

On July 22, the family of Deana Mildred Wertz reported her missing from her home on Yankee Flats Road, which is part of the community of Salmon Arm, B.C. Deana was last seen in the early morning of July 19, 2016. She lived not far from my cousin Ashley Simpson who vanished three months earlier. A lot of people are asking: is there a predator on the loose in that small community? Is it just a coincidence that two women went missing from that same rural road? There are differences in both cases. Ashley is a young (33-year-old) Caucasian woman from Ontario. Deana is described as First Nations. She is middle aged (46-years-old). But that is where the difference ends. It is a frightening coincidence that has re-opened the wound for the Simpson family. They still hold out hope that Ashley has simply lost her way, but every time one of these police alerts pops up, their hope dims. If Ashley had not disappeared on that spring day, I would not have known about Deana or pa

Scott chose Finnigan from a dysfunctional litter. His mother was a Bernese Mountain Dog, purebred. His father came from unknown lineage. Papa was a rolling stone. He rolled into Finn's mother's yard, did the deed and escaped without offering any child support. Finn may look and smell like a Labrador Retriever, but undoubtedly, there is something else in there. The vet thought Daddy might have been a Great Dane. Still, his offspring masquerades as a Black Lab. And he's good at it. It's always hard to pick from a litter. I mean, all puppies are cute, right? Finn made a good impression. He nuzzled Scott's hand and licked him all over. Clearly, he was far superior to his brother who spent our visit chewing wires on the tractor. Finn, on the other hand, seemed sweet and loving. That was until he got in the car and promptly puked all over Marissa. Since adopting him four and a half years ago, we have had many names for him. Idiot. Asshole. F!@khead. His

Every morning, John Simpson wakes with the birds to get in a little fishing before he starts work as a chef at the Longhouse in Huntsville. For John, this annual summer assignment is heaven on Earth, and he brings along the family. This year, little Emma is helping him out along with other family members. She is thrilled to spend time with her Grandpa and has become a very skilled little fisherperson. Emma is a little girl with a grown up job. Instead of goofing all summer, she's decided to work with her Grandpa making muffins and other treats. John is a lucky man, some would say, with a big family, and a brand new grandchild who was born just last month. What more could he ask for? Truth is, John is an injured bird who is missing his wing. When he looks around the kitchen at the Longhouse, he expects to see his daughter Ashley who has been by his side cooking and entertaining all the kids who come to this resort each summer. This year, Ashley somehow lost her way, may h

This morning, I broke my reading glasses, first thing. So I went to the dollar store and bought four pairs for seven bucks. The lady insisted that I pick from her private collection which was under the counter. These glasses were two bucks each instead of one. Oh well, what's a little splurge on a girl's 60th birthday? In my younger, pre-senior days, I would have taken the glasses-breaking-thing as an omen of doom. But today I saw it as an opportunity to get reading specs in a variety of colors. They'll match the bedazzled sweat suits that are on my bucket list which includes among other things, bus trips to yarn factories, sing-a-longs, bingo games, mall walking, visits to the Experimental Farm to take in some corn shucking demonstrations and flower arranging. Oh, let me clarify. That's the bucket list of things I have no intention of doing now that I've entered the sixth decade. I'm not that kind of senior. I am an arrested 17-year-old who can&#