Wordless Wednesday: Short-eared Owl

I am fearfully and wonderfully made

Psalm 139:14

"Short-eared Owl." Digital Image. March 18, 2015

Copyright (c) 2015. Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski

Throw Back Thursday: Hadrian's Wall

Recently I came across this photograph, taken probably 15 years ago on a visit my mother and I made to Birdoswald Roman Fort in England's beautiful Cumbria. 

Thanks to a very kind soul who offered to take the photograph - one of only a hand full that I have of Mom and I together on film.

"Standing on Hadrian's Wall." Digital. Undated Digital Image.

Copyright (c) 2015. Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski.

Wordless Wednesday: Edinburgh Castle's Dog Cemetery

"Edinburgh Castle's Dog Cemetery." Undated Digital Image.

Copyright (c) 2014. Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski

Remembering The First Lady of the Anahar Cockers

"Life is what you celebrate. All of it. Even it's end."

~Joanne Harris

On June 22, 2014, the dog world - especially those who have been involved in Cocker Field Trials - lost one of the first ladies of the sport, Dorothy Douglas. Dorothy and husband Denis have long been involved with Field Trials in Scotland and England - their passion and dedication to the "wee dogs" has garnered them well deserved recognition within the sporting dog circuit - I was privileged to call her my friend.

Denis and Dorothy began trialing dogs in the mid-1950's. Denis began with Springer Spaniels, his kennel affix, Denhead, combined his ancestral home with his name. He was most proud of his two Field Trail Champions (F.T.Ch.) Denhead Warrior - Sire F.T.Ch. Markdown Muffin, Dam Denhead Scamper and F.T.Ch. Spioncop Havoc - Sire F.T.Ch. Hobbins Harrier, Dam Gorsty Gussie. Both Springer's received Diplomas at the AV Championships and in addition, Warrior as the winner of the Game Fair.

A Scottish Champion, Gus was one of the last Denhead Springers

Denis fondly recalled attending a trial at Corsewall, Stranraer with a Mrs. Nicholson of Glenbervie and her "keeper" who handled her spaniels in trials and another friend, John McIntyre. While exercising their dogs they discovered that a "rather nice looking black and white cocker bitch had joined them" eventually identified as belonging to the hostess Mrs. Buchanan. Mrs. Nicholson purchased it and in due course, the little cocker became F.T.Ch. Whisper of Corsewall. She was mated with F.T.Ch. Jimmy of Elan, owned by Lady Auckland of Cromlix, Dunblane. Due to the death of John McIntyre, Denis acquired one of the pups who became F.T.Ch. Carswell Zero. By now, F.T.Ch. Jimmy of Elan had won the Cocker Championship and upon the death of its owner, Lady Auckland, Jimmy came to Denis and Dorothy.

Carswell Zero became the foundation for the Anahar line, which was Dorothy's kennel affix named for one of the hills outside of Laurencekirk. Denis and Dorothy had very strong views about how cockers should progress. Denis often noted that there were a few cockers who "obviously had a touch of springer." Sitting in their family room on several occasions, enjoying a glass of sherry, the electric fireplace glowing and surrounded by drawings of the long line of Anahar Field Trial Champions, they shared their view that springer traits in cockers did not benefit the breed - they both agreed cockers should "be kept pure."

Three generations of Anahar cockers have won the trophy for gaining the most points from field trial placing in a single season (as allocated by The Cocker Club): F.T.Ch. Tayburn Valentina of Anahar, F.T.Ch. Anahar Bawbee and F.T.Ch. Anahar Tippet. This is a remarkable achievement and I believe may be a record.

All of the Anahar cockers were born at Denis & Dorothy's home. Together, Denis and Dorothy contributed significantly to the development of the breed.

I fondly recall one visit when I requested a photograph of all the cockers sitting on the lawn. Denis let them out of the run and as often happens, pandemonium erupted. 

Not one of the dogs were paying attention to Denis let alone obeying his commands (or the whistle). From the window, I could see Dorothy watching the madness of five Anahar's running around like children who have had far too much sugar. Dorothy could be seen shaking her head and briefly disappeared only to reappear outside next to the Land Rover parked near the front door. She opened up the back which resulted in all of the dogs focusing their attention on Dorothy. Thinking they must be going for a run "on the hill," the dogs made a beeline to the vehicle and in an attempt to get into the back at the same time, became a barking tail wiggling mass of black and white. Dorothy slammed the back hatch, exchanging a look with Denis who turned to me and said with that lovely Scottish burr ... "horrid little dogs."

Denis served during WWII; their memories of life during the 1930's and 1940's renews my faith in the strength of good people faced with adversity. Their home is filled with photographs of family and friends - including several with the Queen Mum and HRH Queen Elizabeth in attendance at field trials (Dorothy: "...she wearing a coat I wouldn't be seen out in my kennels in.") Dorothy once drove one of the cockers to the Queen's estate at Sandringham during a torrential rain storm in order to breed with one of the Queen's cockers, proudly adding Sandringham Mango to the Anahar line.

Hidden among the artwork on the staircase are two small watercolors painted by the Prince of Wales, even their dining room table has a close connection with the Queen. On a trip to Edinburgh when Sean Connery was knighted at the Palace of Holyrood, we visited with Denis & Dorothy later on in the week - Dorothy talked of being in "the city" on Tuesday ... we asked, "wasn't that the day Sean Connery was knighted?" Dorothy inquired,  "have you been?" "Ah ... no ... we weren't invited but wait ... you and Denis were there?" "Yes," Dorothy replied, "but we didn't want to stay (overnight) we wanted to get home to the dogs."

Even with their friends in high places, Denis and Dorothy were never pretentious. From the time we stepped off the train at Montrose until the time we had one last toast of sherry - Dorothy raising her glass, "hasten ye back" - and Denis waving at us from the platform until we pulled out of sight, we were treated like royalty.

When I think of Dorothy I think of strawberry rhubarb crumble, her quick smile and light-hearted laugh recalling stories of every cocker who graced their home and whose stones lovingly mark the spot where they now lay along the garden wall. When my mother asked Dorothy to explain the workings of the Aga, lunch was temporarily interrupted while Dorothy happily talked about the wonders of the Aga. 

As Dorothy's health declined and her rheumatoid arthritis progressed, visits to Frogfield no longer included lasagna with peas and crumble with clotted cream in the cozy kitchen but rather car rides around the countryside with lunch at a favorite restaurant, always ending with Dorothy's favorite: Baked Alaska.

All though they both have retired from the trialing circuit, it was fitting that Dorothy would live to see one of her Anahar cockers center stage. 

Photo Source: channel24.co.za

Dorothy was 90-years old and I know, had a wonderful life. She died in the arms of her son, surrounded by her family. The funeral and interment were at Fettercairn and I was told Dorothy "would have been proud of her day." Denis is "being very brave" and now is getting use to life without his beloved Dorothy.

I imagine Dorothy received a wonderfully noisy welcome in heaven with all of her lovely Anahar's on their best behavior and madly wagging tails. Her equal will never be among us again ...

Cha bhithidh a leithid ami riamh

With the exception of the photograph of the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge and the Joanne Harris quote

Text and photographs copyright (c) Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski. 2014

Wordless Wednesday: Now You See Me - Now You Don't (Chestnut-sided Warbler)

"Now You See Me." "Now You Don't." Digital Image. May 10, 2014.

Copyright (c) Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski. 2014

Western Meadowlark on the Buena Vista Grasslands

Blessed are the moments when the light is perfect, you've selected the correct aperture and ISO and the bird lands in the perfect spot.

"Western Meadowlark." Digital image. (c) 2014 Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski

Wordless Wednesday: Merry Christmas Everyone!

"Merry Christmas Everyone." Copyright (c) Al Scherwinski 2013

Veterans Day 2013

There is a strong tradition in my family of serving during times of conflict ... there are members of my family who have served in every war since the time of the American Revolution through the Vietnam War. They all chose to serve a cause that was greater than themselves. Beginning with John Space, Joshua Clarke, Willet Clarke and Sylvester Pendleton who fought for the cause of American independence and freedom during the American Revolution to both my paternal and maternal grandfathers, Charles Bergeron and Harley Space, veterans of WWI; my father H. John Bergeron, a veteran of the Korean War; and his three brothers: Earle C., Leland K. and Melvin F. Bergeron who were part of the WWII "Greatest Generation" to my very special veteran, my husband ...

Thank you for your service
Welcome Home
We have not forgotten

To all those brave men and women who willingly raised their right hand and took an oath to uphold the Constitution of the United States and to defend their country at home and abroad ...

Thank you and God speed you home

Wordless Wednesday: Downside House

"Downside House." Digital Image. Undated. Original photograph privately held by

Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski. Copyright (c) 2013

Wordless Wednesday: Heavens Peek

"Heavens Peek." Digital Image. July 1995. Original photograph privately held by 

Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski. Copyright (c) 2013

A Year of Creativity #201: Yarrow

The presence of yarrow growing among the Black-eye Susan, Hawkweed and Daisies reminds me of Grandpa Harley. His association with the herb didn't happen because he showed me the large flat-top flower clusters. In fact, this association came several years after his death.

My love of family history and all things outdoors can be traced back to summers spent at "the farm" with my maternal grandparents. Both of my grandparents enjoyed sharing their childhood memories. I credit my grandmother (and my Mom) for giving me a love of reading but it was my grandfather who gave me the gift of all things outside my front door.

Making maple syrup, harvesting hazel and butternuts, how to catch toads and frogs - but the most important lesson about being out in the woods ... keep still. When I am sitting on my deer stand or stopping to sit down "just because" - I can still here his voice, "Now keep still." I'm sure that is what his father or grandfather told him when he was a young boy.

One of the many letters I received from him during some of the darkest days of his life, when my grandmother was being consumed by Alzheimer's, he shared a story from his childhood. While he and his brothers were "horsing" around, he fell and broke his arm. His dad was working out in the field and couldn't take grandpa to see the doctor, a 20 mile trip, until the next morning. His mother picked a bunch of yarrow, boiled it in water and used the mixture to bath his arm. 

In Homer's epic tale, the Iliad, the warrior Achilles uses the herb yarrow to bathe the wounds of his fallen comrades. According to other online sources, elements in yarrow accelerate the healing of cuts and bruises.

I've often wondered how many times during his lifetime did my grandfather see a yarrow plant blooming on the side of the road and think about that time when he was "horsing around" and broke his arm. His granddaughter certainly does.

"Yarrow." Digital Image. Text and photography Copyright (c) Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski 2013

A Year of Creativity #170: Maple Tree

June 13, 2013, was a family anniversary that passed by relatively unnoticed. It was on a hot Friday afternoon in 1980 that our family backed a U-Haul truck into the driveway and proceeded to settle into our new home.

Thirty-three years ago we were the family that moved into John and Ann's house. It wasn't long before our front lawn was littered with bikes as the boys became part of what we affectionately called The Weslan Mafia. We all made countless new friends, enjoyed neighborhood barbecues and block parties.

In the blink of an eye and a few years on: bicycles on the lawn were replaced by cars and pickup trucks parked in the driveway. Soccer, football and baseball, homecoming, prom, graduation.

As I walked out onto the deck earlier today I thought about that first summer - the maple tree which was a little more than a sapling, now towers over the house offering shade in the summer, showers the yard with golden leaves in the fall and a haven for creatures of all sizes. A backyard sentinel giving witness to the changes of life's seasons.

"Maple Tree." Digital Image. Copyright (c) 2013 Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski

Happy Blogoversary: Five Years On

Five years ago I logged into Blogger and created In My Life. Months of cajoling and cheer leading by friend and mentor at Little Bytes of Life gave me the courage to jump off into the deep end of the social media explosion.

A title for my blog wasn't difficult to come up with; one of my favorite songs by Lennon and McCartney. The first post? Awkward. Reminds me of those many awkward junior and high school moments. I was known as "the new girl" on more than five or six occasions - who knew I'd be drawing on those experiences forty plus years later?

While I visualized the blog as a place to share my family history it wasn't long before some of the things that are important in my life began showing up front and center: photography, biking, our line of Anahar cocker spaniels, creative writing, love of all things celtic and travel ... just to name a few.

Five years ago I was someone with a camera - today I describe myself as an amateur photographer. Thanks to my husband (who has yet to create his own blog or web site), not only do I have a live in mentor but some very cool equipment.

Five years ago I was happily enjoying retirement - today I am back among the gainfully employed enjoying a new career in social media.

Looking back on five years of blog posts, I see the ebb and flow of my life - contributions to the Carnival of Genealogy and the absence of posts when life demanded more of my time, redirecting creativity in a different direction. The bittersweet photos of our beloved English cocker spaniels who shared every part of our lives five years ago that are now gone - anniversaries, birthdays and celebrations of friends and family continue to reach beyond the boundaries of today - a reminder that family history is not something that is part of the past: it happens every day of our lives.

Five years ago I had a difficult time coming up with three categories that described my blog. Today, I have a difficult time picking just three of those categories. While I had visualized In My Life as a way to share my family history with carefully organized family lines neatly arranged like my silverware drawer ... five years later In My Life has happily evolved into a hodge podge junk drawer. 

Thank you to everyone who follow In My Life - your support, encouragement and acceptance of "the new girl" has been a very large part of my inspiration. In the spirit of so many other family history bloggers, I have taken your gift and will continue to gladly pay it forward.

Copyright (c) 2013 Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski

Wordless Wednesday: U.S. Canada Border Crossing 1941. When Life Was Simple.

"U.S. Canada Border Crossing 1941." Digital Image. Circa 1941. Original photograph

privately held by Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski. Copyright (c) 2013

Almost Wordless Wednesday: Tiger in the Sunshine

For as long as I can remember, my maternal grandparents had at least one cat. What self respecting farm didn't have one good "mouser"?

One of my earliest farm cat memories is of a yellow cat named "Buttercup." I recall on one winter visit to the farm, Buttercup was allowed to spend the  night in the back room rather than in the barn. My impression was that it was a female. After all, who would name a tom cat Buttercup but then again ... I was very little and known to have a vivid imagination.

Another favorite was Tabby, a beautiful black and white female that my grandmother received as a gift. Tabby was a long-haired cat and unlike Buttercup, lived most of her live indoors.

Tiger came to live with my grandparents following a visit to "the old farm" the homestead of Allen and Nancy Stone Space which my grandfather purchased from his siblings following his father's death. The house burned during the early 1940's while my grandparents and mom were off visiting friends leaving the stone foundation filled with wood, trees that had taken root along with a lifetime of memories.

I loved trips to the old farm to pick apples in the fall and plums for grandma's special plum jelly. On one of these visits I heard a kitten mewing in the garage - grandpa tried to convince me it was just a Catbird but I knew better. Tiger came home that afternoon and must have enjoyed special status to spend a large part of her day as an indoor cat. 

"Tiger in the Sunshine." Digital Image. Undated. Original photograph privately held by

Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski. (c) 2013

A Journey Complete

I never get tired of warbler stalking: time spent with my camera walking through the brushy thickets avoiding wet feet, swatting mosquitoes, checking for ticks, all the while listening and looking for the tell tail sign of warblers.

My favorite? All of them but especially any warbler who comes out in the open long enough to allow me to focus and capture a terrific image.

The truth is - I could fill an external hard drive with images of the Common Yellowthroat. The males look like little bandits with their black face mask with a fuzzy white border. In flight (low to the ground) their olive brown color is a perfect camouflage. But once they land their bright yellow is unmistakable.

You hear them long before you see them - by the time you zero in on their proximity, they will have moved; usually not far but gone nonetheless. A twitch of green, a momentary flash of yellow gives them away. Before they are gone. Again.

What is also unmistakable is their song ... a bold "wichity-wichity-wichity" that heralds the arrival of that wonderful season: almost summer.

Like all energetic warblers the Common Yellowthroats are elusive and nearly impossible to photograph. They rarely are seen "in the open" - they prefer to stay close to thick vegetation on the ground. A solitary bird, they can be seen in pairs but it is the male who is first to make the long trek from Central America, Mexico or the Caribbean.

It never ceases to amaze me to think about these tiny birds - 5 inches in length with a 7 inch wing span - following an unknown call that compels them to wing their way across open water, through farmlands, forests and cities to make their way back to a small section of land in northeastern Wisconsin and announce the arrival of summer.

"A Journey Complete." Digital Image. May 22, 2013. Original photography

Copyright (c) Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski 2013

I Promise I Will Always Listen To You

I promise that I will always ALWAYS listen to you. I will come when you call my name. I will sit when you tell me "hup" because I love it when you tell me I am a good boy. I will never do anything bad. When you are sad, I am sad. I promise to always listen to you.

What did you just say?

"I promise I will Always Listen To You." Digital Image. October 1, 2011.

Copyright (c) Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski 2013

A Groovy YouTube Video Answers The Question: What Is A Friend?

I love this video ... hope you do too!

A Year Of Creativity #135: Bloom Where You're Planted

Spring was late in arriving this year - it felt as if the winter of 2012-2013 was the never ending season. The morning after a day 'up north' which produced 30+ mph winds, sleet, rain and numerous snow squalls, I took a walk down the driveway. I was so intent on getting out to the road that I walked right by the patch of white hidden in the raspberry brush. I retraced my steps to find a patch of sanguinaria canadensis, otherwise known as Blood Root hidden among the brown of last years oak and elm leaves. 

It was a struggle to get though the tangle of raspberry brush and while the light wasn't at its best, I was happy to bring home an image of what feels like the first true sign of spring. Sometimes capturing the moment is more important than the perfect conditions. 

"Bloom Where You're Planted: Blood Root." Digital Image. May 13, 2013.

Copyright (c) Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski 2013

Almost Wordless Wednesday: Rocky Mountain High

The excitement of my niece and her Air Force husband getting ready to begin their new life's adventure, brings to mind when Al and I spent six months in Colorado Springs while Al finished out his tour of duty at Fort Carson.

1972 - John Denver's breakout hit Rocky Mountain High was on everyone's stereo. We saved $20 a month by having our windows face away from the mountains - our parking lot view of Cheyenne Mountain was always breathtaking and a good reason to get outside.

A lifetime ago but it's where we had a chance to find a place to start.

"Rocky Mountain High." Digital Image. December 1972. Original photograph privately held

by Cindy Bergeron Scherwinski (c) 2013