Beans ... Jack and the Beanstock

With all the rain this year my beans grew to great height and sturdy stocks. I believe in the tale of Jack and the bean stock as I watched these beans grow from one inch to eight inches overnight. My helper Troy planted some pole beans on a frame to help make it easy to pick the produce. They are now ten feet high and loaded with rich, green pole beans. His family would rather eat them raw than take the time to cook them

Nature is really taking care of us this year by providing us with lush growth and bountiful produce. The rest of the garden is pretty well the same with earlier than expected fruit and veggies. I usually had a red tomato on or before July 12Th. This year we have the tomatoes but they are green. Perhaps we need a few more days like today with 30 plus readings

Our cauliflower was mature ten days ago but as usual it all came at the same time. Our friends and neighbours benefit. Well I better get out and pick some beans before they get too large.

Arlen

Fifty years ago I met a little bundle of energy called Arlen. A shock of blond hair down over one eye and a smile as wide as you please. He was a student in Magnetawan Public School and was introducing himself on the first day of school. I was new to the area and was trying to put names to faces and I had no trouble remembering him.

He was very bright and mischievous and gave his teacher plenty to think about. Being a good athlete and competitor with a handful of close friends made his life pretty good. He helped to introduce me to Roma. Roma was driving him home and called in at Ray Kings gas station. As Arlen pointed me out to Roma she ran up on the gas pump protection. I was playing horseshoes and we had to leave the game to lift the 51 Ford to a safe place.

After that I saw plenty of Arlen and he became a great friend and later, brother-in-law. Arlen had to grow up too fast as his dad needed help and Arlen's education took second place. I knew of his potential and thought someday he would emerge and use his strength. A quick learner put him in positions where he sat beside graduates at McMaster studying complicated data and was never out of place.

When Arlen married Bette it was the best contract he negotiated. A union man for most of his life, he saw a good deal and the contract lasted all these years.He and Bette were frequent visitors to our home in Pembroke and made the trip with his children, a large dog, Bette and a guitar - all in a VW beetle. We all looked forward to these visits as his music commanded all the attention. He was good - very good - and our children probably picture him in his element with a guitar pick in one hand, a drink in the other holding court on some of his pet subjects in between tunes.

There is so much one could say about this man and his love for boating, travelling and enjoying the company of Bette. We will miss the times we were together and remember the high points that will always be with us. A short life? Not really, as he lived to the full extent of his ability to grasp each day in a meaningful way with his family and friends.

Our families will meet this week to celebrate Arlen's life and there is plenty to celebrate.

Hectogragh

A couple of weeks ago I was at a graduation of Air Cadets and met a retired teacher who was also Henry's grandmother who asked me if I was old enough to know what a hectograph was .Hell yes I know I replied in an animated manner because it conjured up an old memory which took place in our kitchen in Cape Breton.

In 1949 my sister Grace held a teaching position in our Public School at the Red Brick School and taught over thirty grade one children. Like all the teachers in the institution Grace walked to school every day burdened by a bag of teaching aids and printed busy work. Some of the kids from our neighbourhood walked with her. Some even wanted to hold her hand. Two boys from across the bog named Clayton and Arthur wanted to be part of the walking entourage. They had a little speech problem and would declare that they were saten and arser. So Grace went to school with many happy followers and Satan and Arser.

Teachers worked under difficult conditions during those days before technology.Working all day and coming home to more hours of work. Teachers were given hectographs to duplicate work sheets for the students. Basically they were tablecloth {plastic backing} covered with a coating of gelatin. The teacher would apply ,with a special pencil work to be duplicated on a sheet. The pad would be dampened and the sheet applied to the pad. Wait a few minutes and clean sheets would be placed on the pad, rubbed and taken off with a magical twist and eureka...a printed work sheet. This was repeated until the sheets were so faded you could not read them, More magic pencil and on with the task. My sister Grace often let us help and she turned out good work but many teachers gave sheets that you had to held up the lights to read.

This hectogragh age went on for years and when I began teaching in Pointe Claire a machine called a Ditto was in use. I was part of the new age of technology. Good bye hectograph and hello Ditto.

Ilakuktutiak Cemetery

A cemetery may be a peculiar place to find peace but I did when I was living up there. One of my duties was to provide the burial places for the dead. Since the ground was iron hard for 11 months of the year burial underground was impossible. The dead were kept in a small building called the dead house until the ground could be dug for a proper burial. I saw the anguish on the faces of the living when their loved ones were put there.

I had a plan to dig a certain number of graves during august and then cover them with plywood until they were required. First I had to get the consent of the Hamlet Elders. In old times the bodies were wrapped in Caribou hides and left on the tundra. With the coming of the white man and the church there was a change and Christian burials were deemed necessary.

A meeting was held and the elders with some reluctance gave me the go ahead to try the scheme. It worked and the community loved the idea of being to have the whole ceremony at one time. We had to make sure that we had enough graves ready and that was the only sore point. Some Elders had the feeling that if we had 10 graves ready they would be filled. I tried to have this process passed at the general assembly but it never flew.

I paid particular pride in the dignity expressed by the condition of the local graveyard. Each grave was marked by a cross with the name and age of the occupant. These crosses were made and painted by the local church. A master grave site register was assembled and the Elders and family members helped to complete the task.

Often I would visit the grave site to check for vandalism and record needed repairs. Because of the perma frost caskets would come to the surface and had to placed in a new site. It was usually quiet there and My dog Buck would go from one grave to the next as if to read the names. Foxes lived nearby and I could feed them by hand. These little animals are sometimes numerous and become a bother to the hamlet.

When I visit new areas cemetery's give me a history lesson and become a resource of knowledge.Our cemetery in Cape Breton is a must visit and brings back so many memories of loved ones.That is probably why I took good care of the one up north.

The Weather

Every few years we manage to have a summer when Mother Nature catches her breath and we have weather that emphasizes the environment and not the sun worshippers. This is one of these years for Ontario at least. Our earth has been so dry and the ground parched in some cases that only prolonged rain could help.

This year farmers are having a bumper crop of hay and other grass crops and the trees are bearing heavy burdens of fruit. Ontario has experienced near drought conditions for several years in parts of the province but reports now tell a different story. Water reserves are about normal as we speak, lakes are healthy and forests have regained their normal state. Here in Oakville we have lost a tremendous number of trees due to stress caused by lack of water.

This year festivals are disrupted, fairs rained out, outside concerts had to go indoors but nature rejoices. Our small sacrifices are more than compensated by the gift of rain. Just think of the fires in BC and count your blessings. I have heard so much grumbling about the rain I get annoyed.

Praise Mother Nature for her blessings and get a life.

Canada - United States

On our recent trip to our south Theresa and I had an opportunity to get out of our van and put our bikes to good use. Near the border there is a small city called Fort Erie and across the Niagara River stands Buffalo N.Y. Years ago a ferry boat carried passengers and horses and anything else that had to cross the river. The river flows quickly at this point as the water is rushing from Lake Erie to Lake Ontario. Down river about twenty miles is the mighty Niagara Falls.

In the years 1812-1814 we were at odds with the USA and the army of that country invaded the Niagara area and marched freely on our soil. The incursion was broadening when Laura Secord discovered the advancing American army she proceeded to run and tell the British general. With advance notice and the help of the local militiamen an ambush crushed the enemy and the tide was turned.Great loss of life was felt by both sides but the outcome was a clear victory and our land was once more in our own hands.

All along the border there are reminders of the battles and monument and placks record the history. The largest reminder is the totally reconstructed Fort Erie. There is a biking path all along the shoreline and Theresa and I biked many miles to view the beautiful river and the buildings that grace the shores of the Niagara.

There is no greater monument to the end of the hostilities than the Peace Bridge joining our two countries. A magnificent structure, built in 1949 joined the countries in peace.Now with both our flags flying at the center of the bridge saying welcome hostalities are forgotten. We enjoyed our small trip through time and plan more in the future.

Summer paradise

For a few days Theresa and I decided to make a little trip to the historic area around Fort Erie and Ridgeway to experience the contribution these areas made during the war of 1812. This area saw the fiercest battles and the key victories by our Militia men that turned the tide.It is a beautiful area with the great lakes plateau or watershed is home to many of our prized trees. I bought a summer home there around 1991 at Sherkston on a sandy bluff, high over the park and overlooking Lake Erie.

We planned to live there during the summer and go south during the winter. It was a beautiful home and it was enjoyed by all who came to visit. We sold it when it was apparent that we would never use it as planned. I never returned to visit that lovely area but I did get the urge to go back and have a look.

Theresa and I made our return during the worst weather and went into the park through a deep puddle of water. We managed to find the home and were surprised how well kept the place we called home was maintained. We roamed around the property, the private and public beaches, and the facilities for the residents.

We were impressed and felt happy about the care given to our old place in particular. I rarely go back once I leave an area but this return brought me back to memories of wonderful times with the children and grandchildren. We really had fun and were saddened when it was no longer possible to take advantage of this family facility.

Memories are beautiful when then they are able to cause one to relive for a moment good times in the past.

Woody Horse

The children of our family or rather the grandchildren used to love to play on a wooden horse which they named Woody. The name was a natural as I made it out of heavy wood. The design I was given by my friend Don who used it and thought I should have it as well. The design was so simple and the safety feature was extremely good for children of all ages. Three ropes held the horse suspended from a tree or any overhead structure. Because of the particular hanging manner the horse was stable and could not tip or go too high.

I made several of these horses but one I made and hung at our home in Sherkston gave much pleasure to the children. This week Theresa and I made a visit to the summer home at this resort and we looked around the property. To my surprise there was Woody. Painted in the same grey colour and with new ropes attached it looks as good as the day I made it 18 years ago.
The two inch wood held up well and still is capable of giving children a ride of their life. The owners of the property were not home but I took a few pictures of Woody for the children who once rode him. Darcy was one of the children who in particular loved woody as she managed to be at the home more than any of the others.

The only difference in the property was the trees which are enormous now. One Oak used to have twelve stems and now only seven remain. Walking around this home in the pouring rain brought many happy memories. One in particular was the visit of Adam and Megs for a week that was supposed to be vacation but chicken pox arrived with them and we pretty much were house bound for the week. Try to entertain two little kids for all that time. We was happy because we were able to get to know them better during their internment. Thank goodness for Woody.

We had to leave Woody there even thought he wished to come with us but we do have a picture.

Original Woody horse from Pembroke.

Dorion

Forty miles east of Thunder Bay there is a small unorganized township called Dorion. There are a handful of houses clustered around a small roadside hotel, a Esso gas station and a general store. A small post office was housed in a private residence run by a lady with eight children. I lived in a teacherage owned by the Township and rented the home for $65 a month.

This little community was my home for a year and offered me an opportunity to really connect with the northern wilderness. The wilderness stretched for hundreds of miles to the north and the landscape was only marred by rail lines and logging roads. I used to drive these abandoned logging roads with my wife and daughter and stopped along the way to either fish or bag some game for food.

We ate wild meat and fish and the only meat we ever bought was bacon or Bologna. Our favourite pastime was exploring the back country and used to hike to a canyon which was a hidden treasure. This canyon is called Ouimet Canyon and was for many years only known to the locals who used to visit it occasionally. The University of Toronto had a particular interest in a cave inhabited by bats. Thousand of these little creatures lived there and when they left or returned it looked like smoke. Studies were ongoing and had some significant importance.

I was the principal of the local 8 room school and used to take the classes there to see the marvel of the canyon and enter the cave to see the bats. A small lake was positioned at the bottom of the canyon and held many small speckled trout. Today progress has made the canyon a provincial park and it worth visiting, Walkways cling to the side of the canyon and information photos and descriptions tell of the making of a canyon.

In my school there was another outstanding feature. There were more triplets and twins in the population than any other school in Canada. One family was comprised of two sets of triplets, a set of twins and a single. This family had nine children in just over four years. This attracted the attention of a magazine and a photo was taken and published. In a school of 245 students 46 students were of multiple births.This was of no fault of mine as I was there only one year.

Little Dorion held a special place in my memory as I was very happy in my work and environment. The following year I returned to university for four years of study and more work.

Busy Week Having Fun Time.

We are off to visit a few golf courses to celebrate Theresa's birthday. We like to get away from home and explore new surroundings. I really do not care if we never go to foreign lands anymore. I have come to the conclusion we have so much here that we don't know about.We both love the terra firma of the continent and will try to see much more of it n the future.I personally have been to every province,territory and state except Hawaii. Our next really big trip will be to the Southwest of the USA.

This short trip will see us tracing the Wellend Canal and the south east shore of Lake Erie. Many good courses are in the region and we should sample at least two of them.

You would think we are going for a week with all the seats turned down in the van and the whole space stuffed with bikes, golf bags and carts and stuff to keep us happy during our safari. Sometimes the anticipation that goes with the preparation is half the fun. We just love to crowd many activities in a short space so we have to come home to rest.

Because of the dry weather I must take care of the garden to make sure that all will be well on our return. Doris will see to it that the flowers are watered and plantings around the house are taken care of. She likes to be kept busy when we are away and we keep in touch with that gadget called a cell phone. Everyone seems to have one growing out of their ear but I have managed to keep my privacy so far by not carrying the home cell.

As we prepared to go away we managed to get in touch with our good friends and to have them stay for a few days while John has a Dr. appointment it Toronto. This visit is top priority as they are good friends and we will have some good time together. All in all we will have a great week and I will not blog for a couple of days.

Church in Ikaluktutiak

Going to church as a youngster was not a choice because every member of our family except Dad attended 100% of the time.I still have my new testament presented to me for perfect attendance. Church was fun sometimes but mostly I was not connected to what was being said as the ritual seemed more important than the message. Another reason was the fact I was unable to sit quietly for more than three minutes.

While living in Ikaluktutiak I was drawn to the little Anglican church. I was in charge of funerals and attended every funeral and special occasion held in the church. Come Sunday church was held twice in the morning. One service was conducted by the elders in Inuinaktun, a dialect of Inultitut. I was striving to learn the local language as I used it working with my Inuk workers.

Since I knew all the hymns and some of the prayers and scriptures I attended the early service. I was the only white person and was warmly greeted. I often was invited to say a few words and welcomed the opportunity to join. Inuks have a high pitched voice range and a sorrowful wail when sad such as at a funeral. Blended together, a beautiful sound came when singing their favourite hymn, Amazing Grace. The elders held the service every Sunday without the benefit of a minister or priest. When a priest or Bishop came to the hamlet he re-concreted the elders and they carried on.

There was a small pipe organ in the church and a blind, deaf boy played on this instrument before service and after. The locals thought he had special powers and listened. The music sounded terrible, more like a cow being milked with cold hands but everyone accepted the little fellow's contribution.

I learned some Inuinaktan and quickly learned and became friends with all the ladies of the congregation as only a handful of men attended. This connect helped me with the wellness committee and the hamlet in general.

This was a far cry from church as I recalled but I was influenced and impressed how the Inuit blended their traditional beliefs with the Anglican order of service. Without understanding the language I probably came as close to god as I did when I attended church as a youngster not knowing what they were saying or trying to say.

In the Arctic my church was the great outdoors and the natural order of things where the people tried to live in harmony with the land and each other. After my five years up north I came away a better person more understanding of where I fit in the grand scheme of the universe.

Jigging Arctic Style

The shoreline of the North West Passage (NWP) is alive these days with Inuit drying their winter char. The char are moving out of the lakes and into the salt water of the NWP. Here they feast on the shrimp and young Tommy cod and gain a third of their weight. In the meantime the char had to pass from the lakes, down the flowing rivers to the sea.

On their journey downstream they encounter scores of people jigging through the ice or in open leads. In years past, the Inuit used a small attractive object on a string made of animal guts to attract the char. Once the char come close they were captured by the skillful use of a special spear.When cutting through the ice you encounter nine feet of new ice which proves to be a challenge.

The result is worth the effort when you are rewarded with a 10 lb. char. Today a few people use the traditional method to catch their fish as many converted to using nets. One day I was driving along the NWP on my atv and came upon the commissioner of the NWT beginning to pull a net. She was late in her sixties and about a hundred lbs but she was skillful and mighty. Her husband John was present and was ready to launch id 20 foot open boat to release the end of the net.

They had done this for years and new every move to accommodate the task. Two minutes were needed to release the net and Helen and I pulled the net as john came ashore and helped. The net was full of lovely char and we counted 59 fish averaging 8 lbs. Quickly they were placed far from the shore as they could return to the water in one flip.

Cutting the fish was a traditional womens task and with an ulu one Inuit women could make quick work of that number of fish. I asked if I could help and Helen showed me the skill of the use of an ulu. Ulu means woman's knife but I never hesitated in using it from that day on.The fish are cut down the back and boned, leaving the fish joined at the tail so they might be hung to dry. In less than an hour the task was complete and Helen probably did more than half and John and I the rest.

Helen told me of the old days when fish failed to come that way and John would have to set out to find Char or starve. John was known for his ability to find char and animals using his traditional knowledge. He laughed when he said his best friend in finding the fish was the seal because they could see underwater. He laughed but was serious. The seal follows the char.

After tea and a pilot biscuit with jam I left John and Helen after being given four fish - all ready to be eaten. For the rest of my time in the Arctic I took every opportunity to learn from the Inuit and became a successful hunter and fisherman because of the acquired skills. For all the fun I had, none was more endearing to me than jigging for char.

Yesterday

Everyone had a great time.The whole family minus one showed up for the family get together. The weather was perfect and the atmosphere matched the day as we celebrated family in our special way. We ate turkey and pork tenderloin with all the trimmings. It was a group effort as the food came with the guests and by the time it was all over there was still room for the birthday cake to top it all off.

The many gifts given to the birthday girl Theresa were opened and made it all look like Christmas once more. Having your 65th is special and was recognized in so many ways. The cards and personal messages would bring a tear to a glass eye and caused Theresa to say it was her best birthday ever.

Picture taking documents the event and will bring back fond memories of a wonderful family occasion. The fact that we celebrate any occasion by coming together reinforces the importance of family and friends. This year we will have other times that will cause us to repeat the good feelings generated yesterday. We are going to try to have a a similar meeting when our west coast niece (WCN) visits us from BC.

On this day many of our family will be meeting our niece and cousin for the first time. Since we are a noisy bunch I hope we don't scare her off. She will be our special friend on this occasion and a new member of our clan from this time on.

We will be eating leftovers and turkey soup for a few days which will give us a chance to revisit our family day. Those cooking smells always conjure up happy thoughts and motivate us to look forward to our next clan gathering.

Under One Roof

This week is one I have been looking forward to for some time. As a family we attempt to get together as often as possible. Because of the geography it is difficult for all of us to be under the same roof at the same time. This week we will all be together except one grandson Henry who will be at Air Cadet Camp.

Our family group comprises our four children, their significant others and the grandchildren. Along with Doris, the oldest at 92, we count nearly twenty. For all of us to be at one table causes some changes to be made in the dining room. We do manage to get everyone seated and fed at the same time.

Theresa is celebrating her birthday a few days early so as to have all the folks present. There is always something special that happens when we interact with our close family. Energy is released and we benefit from the physical contact and the lively conversations that will surely evolve. Each one will try to hold the ear of the group at some time and news will be shared and gossip exchanged. Time will fly and we will regret having to part too quickly for our liking.

For me the true essence of a family is how it comes together and you can observe the common bond each has for the group and each other. A agenda is not necessary when they converge on our home but trying to keep up with the divergent conversations is almost impossible. Although there are common bonds it is the individual characteristics which makes our family interesting.This is probably true in every family but we have always encouraged our kids to speak up and be counted and they can speak. A few of our children have the ability to talk non stop for hours.

For the next few days we shall soak up all the good feelings and love to keep us happy until we get together again.

Organic Gardening

My daughter Lyn has the ability the write blogs that take the newness from mine. It is like a reporter who files a story just before you and winning the news of the day.I planned to write about organic gardening as many of my friends practise this hobby to great ends.

I personally have been using this method for about 50 years and found it to be a little more difficult to get the same results but there is satisfaction to know you are helping the environment and your health. We have 4 composters and right now they are full. My neighbour has given up the practise because like my daughter, has not seen any magnificent results.

We receive as many as 15 wheel barrows of good black, fine soil each year.We supplement this with many barrels of compost from the Halton land fill site. Our vegetable garden now has about 15 inches of soft, black topsoil in place of the red clay which is what we started with. It took 10 years years but the yields have multiplied and the produce is beautiful.

One has to be prepared to have problems with insects and mildew but remedies are available. My friend John from Pembroke just plants enough for himself and the other. I do the same but still use homegrown recipes for protection from the other (pests and mildew) and they are partially effective.

I never heard of organic when I was growing up and still look at the produce in the supermarket and ask myself, " what is the difference?". The difference to me is you are not ingesting the multitude of chemicals and pollutants used by corporate farms to get the product faster and larger than nature planned. The difference is in the taste and all you have to do is taste a Florida tomato and compare it to an organic tomato from Ontario or anywhere in Canada.

As I look at my garden this year I am thankful for the years that I did the right thing without knowing it and am trying to educate more people in the art and fun of organic gardening. And thank you Lyn for your lead on my blog.

The Glorious Twelfth of July

The twelfth of July was a day celebrated by many in small towns and villages throughout our land. A Protestant group formed a secret society called the Orange Lodge way back to protect their rights and be a beacon of Protestantism. The lodge was particularly strong in rural Ontario and flourished for years. During the last 25 years it has almost disappeared in most communities.

My father was a Orangeman and attended lodge on a regular basis. It was a social club mostly when there were no hot buttons of a religious nature to stir up the members. Every year the lodge had a special event, a parade followed by a picnic. Nearly everyone in the community took part and the kids had free ice cream and played games.

The parade was the beginning of the celebration and a story told by my dad still brings a smile to my face.My dad was a horseman for all his life. On the day of the parade the procession was led down the street by a man riding a white horse like King William did when he led his army. Dad was called to play that role on more than one occasion.

On this particular day Dad had a difficult time finding a suitable white horse. He was in possession of a dapple grey however. In dire need the men decided to whitewash the horse for the parade.Mother nature was kind at the beginning of the parade but as the procession marched down the main street rain came down in a downpour. The white horse began to shed its pure white colour and became a old grey mare.

That year the parade received roars of laughter and cheers in a good natured way but evidently Dad was not pleased. It created some levity to what was a worn out ritual anyway and as the story goes it was the last time the parade was led by King Billie on a horse of any colour.

Lodges like the Orange may have served a purpose in its time but we have grown away from organizations which support intolerance.

Waterfront of Oakville

Oakville is a medium size town of 175,000. By many it is considered to be one of the finest places to live in Canada. It is not because the economic level or the important and famous people who live here that makes it special. This town has a waterfront that stretches for miles along the south western section of Lake Ontario.

Several rivers and brooks pass through the city before meeting the waters of the lake. These waterways provide welcome harbours for pleasure craft by the hundreds. Years before, Oakville had a flourishing ship building industry and its history was sculpted by the builders trade. The town fathers developed a plan for the city which protected the land along the many ravines and rivers. This land now provides miles of biking and walking paths. Nowhere is this more noticeable than along the waterfront.

Last eve Theresa and I drove downtown and parked on one of the back streets. We began our walk by wandering through Olde Oakville and heading towards the harbour. The many named properties reminds us of our past as we see these historical buildings protected from future demolition. Hugh trees frame elegant homes which have survived for over 150 years. As we near the path that follows the edge of the lake you had to be impressed by the numbers of families and individuals walking. Dogs are welcome and numerous and receive their share of love and attention.

We sat for a while watching the sailboats returning to their docks and the whole tone of this place is contentment. People wandering about exchanging words with each other and using this waterfront as a extension of their home. It is in fact just that - as the common areas of the city do belong to all of us. It is this feeling of ownership that causes all of us to take good care of this wonderful facility.

Theresa and I do not walk there every night but every time we do go there we are amazed at the natural beauty being cared for the general population. We are blessed in Oakville and so is every community which has a waterfront available for its residents.

Youthful Challenge

Pool is a skill game that many folks enjoy in their homes today because it affordable and pretty much available. I have been fortunate to have inherited a pool table when I bought a home in Pembroke. The owner finished the basement without thought of removing the pool table if he moved. This game table was used for the enjoyment of our family and the stains in the cloth attested to its use.

The kids entertained their friends in the room which doubled as a laundry room. It made a great folding space and sorting table as well. The stains came from pepsi, mixed drinks and other liquids which added to the character of the room and table.

In Oakville we had a large room which was designated as the cave because it became my tv room and sanctuary. It was just big enough to have a pool table. A neighbour was throwing the table out after his kids left the nest and offered it to me. He also gave me two sets of balls and all the goodies needed to set up a pool hall.

This table causes all the users to be creative as the walls are too close for some shots and cut off cues are needed. A door to a closet makes shooting possible when open and so on. You get the picture, the room is not really big enough. We have more fun there when we have family gatherings as the kids and sometimes adults gravitate to the cave.

There are not many stains on the cover yet as a new cloth was purchased and the newness intimidated the users. My grandson Troy has been a constant player since he could look over the edge of the table. He learned the rules at a young age and calls them when necessary. We play every chance we get. Today we played three games and he cautioned me not to give him any advantage but to play to win.

I always do play to win but Troy is determined to be a better player than me. One day he did win fairly and it motivated him to try every time to beat his grandpa. Someday he will, but until then we will just have to use the pool room for male bonding and good competitive fun.

A New Resident

A new resident moved into our neighbourhood last week. I have not met this new friend but I hear from it every day. There is a constant attempt to communicate with us but we will keep trying. Our new neighbour is an owl. He or she began hooting last week and has not stopped since.

It is not the first time we had owls nearby as Theresa and I photographed a barn owl on one of our bird houses. Another was in our plum tree and it was a brown owl. We get excited when an owl finds our area posh enough to take up residence. Some people may find that the constant hooting would be annoying if it were outside your bedroom window as they hoot most of the night as well.

I hopped on my bike to investigate the possible site of this bird and peered through the trees with no avail. Owls are very good at disguising their location. I wish to identify and photograph this stranger during the next few days.

There is something haunting about owls with their mournful sounds. Owls were always of special interest to people who gave them special qualities and abilities not found in fact but in superstition. There may be some validity to the expression as wise as an owl but I don't know. Having worked in education for many years we used the owl as a symbol of smartness and the image of an owl seems to bring to mind the concept of brightness. In any case this owl chose to live here or at least visit here so our little community is well served by it presence.

Bottling Wine

Wine making was one of my hobbies when I was younger.Many of my friends used to turn to this hobby in the fall when fruit was readily available. It was messy but fun. Our equipment and bottles pretty much filled half of one of our basement rooms. Then there was the odour and cleanup after we finally got the wine in the bottles.

As we returned to the hobby it became apparent that wine making stores took care of all the negatives and you still made your own wine at a reasonable cost. Theresa and I have been associated with a small wine making operation for about ten years. We like the people who own and operate the business and find them helpful in so many ways.

Today was the day for putting the product into the bottles. The bottles have been washed over the last few days and carefully packed in much used boxes. The process is simple but the lady in charge supervises the process so all goes well. My job is to take the clean bottles and fill them just to the right level. Too much or not enough and the supervisor makes a correction. I then cork these full bottles.Not too difficult but again my supervisor corrects me on small points.

This year we have red and white as usual. We have our own preference and are lucky we are able to satisfy our needs because Theresa likes white and I like red. After the bottles are corked Theresa picks labels to beautify the bottle and give it a professional look. We call our wine, Cape Coral Estates. When all this is complete we taste the new wine and congratulate each other on a job well done.The lady from the shop gives us a lesson on wine and the protocol connected with the storage, tasting and serving of this special beverage.

Our own wine always tastes better than store bought wine because we had a hand in its production. Jesus turned the water into wine but we turn the wine into pure pleasure as we share it with our family and friends.

Running Out Of Time

A week ago I was talking about how lucky I was to have some free time. Today Theresa and I are looking at a calendar which is plugged with visits to the Dr., Dentist, condo association meeting, visitors coming and preparation for the big birthday. we are not in a panic mode yet as we are looking forward to the house being full and activity every hour. We were always busy people but as time passed we became more passive and turned to activities that more closely mirrored our age and life style.

I militate against any thought of getting old but am reminded from time to time that there are reactions to many of our actions. Actions that require extra muscle power and climbing on that God forsaken ladder. I always pay the price. Today I went to my wonderful Dr. and we had a 40 minute heart to heart. He told me to watch my diet and continue to lose weight, He suggested I slow down a little and act my age. He even suggested I should hang upside down for half an hour every day

I listened and came home and shared the comments with my good wife. The part she liked was that the Dr. told me that more blood to the brain would be reflected in my ability to think more clearly. I always follow my Dr. orders except when they interfere with my fun things.

In any case Theresa and I went out to try to purchase this inversion board to hang myself on. He recommended Zellers as that was the place he bought his. We went and approached the staff there and was met with a , you want to hang yourself upside down for half an hour a day. Bloody ridiculous if you ask me. She worked in the dept. where these torture boards were being sold. Guess we had the wrong place.

Dr. told me they were around $200. and he had two. One for the adults and one for the children. I was discouraged but not defeated. I am home and looking up this device on the net. I will build one myself and for under 20 dollars.

As to their benefit when I try my very own inversion board. Theresa will be the judge as to the relative value in so far as my head working better.

Monday Without a Real Blog

With the weekend behind us we are heading for a very busy couple of weeks with visitors coming from all sides. We normally have a few people calling in during the summer but between now and the end of August we will have relatives and friends from both coasts and here as well. We look forward to these visits and welcome the opportunity to show good Oakville hospitality.

Letters and emails are good, and telephone calls are better - but seeing the real thing beats all. Our family and friends are spread all over the country and visits are less frequent than we would like. This year we are making our pilgrimage to the East Coast and will visit many friends and relatives.Theresa's mother will accompany us and visit her brother in Sussex, New Brunswick. She is a good traveller for a 92 year old and watches out the window the whole time. She doesn't sleep as long as I do - and I am driving!

As we get older we treasure our friends even more, probably because there are less of them and the ones still around us are more precious. This may seem morbid but really, it is the way it is.
When you have a visit from someone, even some who are less dear, savour the time that elapses and enjoy the value of the time spent. I have to remember that maybe we are the ones that make the visitors feel good and they leave better than they came.

We place great emphasis on friendship and treasure our friends, as they enrich our lives. Life would be a sad place without having a real friend to communicate our most deep thoughts without worrying about a breach of faith. I have a few friends ... how about you?????

Greed

This past week we have been hearing and reading about the Nobel Prizes. Stories of people who made and are making a positive contribution to society. These stories help us to realize there are good people in the world.Offsetting this good news are the numerous stories of greed and corruption in our public and private institutions.

This week provincial scandals in the Ehealth program and a spin off of this was excessive expenditures by cancer department officials in awarding huge contracts for studies that could be considered needless. Every day there is a new revelations in the banking, industrial and private sector of indiscretions involving money where greed was the motive. Some of the highest paid people in the world are sometimes involved and we wonder why our young people are so pessimistic about politics and government.

I believe there are many good people in and out of politics who are as frustrated as we about our inability to curb or ever eradicate this stain on our society. I look to the youth and see hope. Visiting a high school gives me life and a feeling of renewal as I see a vibrant group of young people who make a difference. The WE program is sweeping America and Canada. This student driven program has stirred up the school populations as never before. School students are going to developing countries and building schools and other facilities. These students ask for nothing but the opportunity to serve and help.Greed is not a consideration.

We can only wish that this enthusiasm will be carried over to adult life. We can use some unselfish thinking and these young people will provide that needed component in our society that some describe as a corrupt society. Maybe greed is an adult disease.

Cherries by the Bucketful

I watch for the blackbirds to land in my fruit trees before picking. Every year they visit our cherry trees when the fruit is at it prime. They know from experience that a day here or there makes all the difference between sweet succulent berries or sour, tart fruit. Unfortunately one year I was away when they ripened.

This year I was able to test and re-test our cherries and today Theresa and I will pick enough for our use. Our neighbours and family can share with the birds for the rest. Our trees were gifts from Doris, my mother-in-law who has kindly added to our orchard on the occasion of our anniversary. Another time it was a peach tree she gave us and we have made good use of the fruit. Doris makes good choices as she loves jam - or could I say anything which contains sugar - and the more sugar the better.

This year we plan to freeze some for the future but the immediate need is for a one crust cherry pie with crumble topping. This is my favourite pie and the girls collaborate in making the very best pies.

Our trees are grafted and one of them produces four different varieties of fruit. We prefer the large yellow variety because of their size and sweetness. I have to leave now but will be thinking of you people who are not around to have some pie later today.

Living Water

You can hose your garden of flowers and vegetables every day until the ground is saturated. Plants will respond. However, if mother nature decides to get in the act and sprinkle the same plants, magical things will happen.

For the last five days we have been having a generous amount of rain and our garden has bloomed. That rain appears to be the same as the water from the hose but somehow it contains a natural ingredient which pleases the natural growth cycle. Maybe it is because of what is not in the hose water - like chemicals and compounds - to make it appear to be sparkling clean.

In any case I have seen the garden flourish when it rains. My grandson and I were talking about this during one of my times with him in his small garden and he felt it was because the rain was doing its job evenly. All the land was treated fairly.

If there is one gift you can leave or give to your children or grandchildren, it is the understanding and appreciation of nature and our close relationship to it. Every human should see just how much and close our survival depends on the health of our plant kingdom.

Mother nature, if left on its own would do a good job in protecting the natural resources of the planet. Man has really done a poor job when it comes to using these resources for mankind as a whole. We cut down our forests, we pollute our fresh water, we fill the air with toxic pollutants and wonder why the planet can no longer support the populations in a healthy fashion.

We in Canada are far better off than nearly every jurisdiction in nearly every way but we can do better. Planning laws to ensure green space and clean energy sources would be a start. If we as individuals plant a few trees, keep a small garden and place energy producing devices on our roof tops it would be a gift for humanity.

As I look at my home garden today, I feel I am part of the solution, and if mother nature continues to do her job, all will be right for the world.

Canada Day at Bronte

My friend is having a holiday in Costa Rica with his daughters and a few friends. As he was about to leave he came over to my home and tossed the keys to his boat on my lap.He offered the use of the boat while he was away and specially on Canada day. You see, this boat is really a cottage on the water and is docked directly in front of the platform from which the fireworks are launched.

I love the boat and accepted the offer. Weather was a problem as rain and a lightening storm was predicted. I invited all the family to come with Theresa and I to watch from the great vantage point, all the celebrations. Most accepted but as the time came closer the folks dropped off one by one. We decided to go to the boat anyway and probably stay over for the night.

Our bad weather turned out to be marginal at most and we arrived at the marina loaded down with supplies for the overnight stay. Our accommodations can only be described as opulent and the view spectacular. As we walked the length of the marina dragging our baggage we noticed a special feeling creeping into our bones. We were returning to the water and the association of this media flooded back to days when I lived in and on the Ottawa River. It is a good feeling and only those who have experienced it can know just how good and peaceful it is.

We settle in, admiring the sail boats passing by only feet from us, silently except for the gentle sounds of a light wind flowing through the rigging. A swan and some geese with their young turn out for the fireworks and folks dressed for rain leading their leashed dogs began to form a line along the breakwater.

Young children, oblivious to the weather, chased each other with joyful squeals and dogs sniffed at new scents and met new partners. It was the picture of happiness. There was a feeling of high expectation in the air. A band blared at a bored audience and speeches about the greatness of our Canada fell on ears already saturated with the rhetoric which was relentless during the last few days. We were waiting for the fireworks.

Finally, the mayor led the crowd in the singing of O Canada. Then the countdown starting at 10. The whole place stood still for a second then...10, 9, ...1. At 1 there was a blast - perfectly timed - and the show was on. Ooh's and every sound expressing that satisfaction you get from watching the fireworks were heard. Twenty five minutes later it was over with the finale, a crashing, banging light show ending as it always does with horns blowing and hand clapping as if to congratulate each other for a job well done. For a short while we were all Canadians participating in our birthday party.

Theresa and I watched the people walk away amid positive comment and soon it was quiet again. We sat out for some time quietly musing about the events of the day and about our country. We were satisfied that we live in a good place and decided to go to sleep with these memories freshly in our minds.

O Canada

Canada is rated by most independent sources as being one of the most livable countries in the world. A Hugh landmass made up of ten provinces and three territories with more than our share of the worlds fresh water and resources speaks to our unique opportunity to be a shining light to the world community.

Describing Canada in terms of its land mass and resources is like describing a person by their size and abilities. In both cases we miss the mark. I personally travelled to every province and territory from Cape Breton to Vancouver Island, Ellesmere Island to Peele Island and after describing these areas I feel empty if I call this Canada.

My description of Canada goes beyond the physical. Canada is just filled with Canadians.These people each have a story and a part in making the mosaic of Canada the greatest small nation in the world.For all our faults be have made a mark on the history of the world by our ability to contribute at the right time and in the right way.

Our achievements are too numerous to include them in a blog but a few should suffice.The medical field with Banting and Best, our sick kids hospitals, our universal health care make us the envy of the world.Our technical contributions in the space programs with the Canada Arm and more, our leadership in bringing peace, up to now, in war torn countries with men like Lester B Pearson and our wonderful peace keepers our armed forces.

The real heart and soul of Canada is the individual and the spirit of freedom he represents in exercising his democratic rights in forming that body politic called the will of the people. We are free to challenge the policies and the forces that effect our lives and we do. We are basically intellectually lazy until an issue raises its head and we act. We act in an emotional and spirited democratic manner. A crisis like the Quebec Referendum ,gay rights and our inclusion in the Iraq war brought thousands of people to speak as one. Now we have a united Canada ,Gay pride week and our forces never went to Iraq. This was the result of the Canadian Will,

That is the Canada that makes me proud.Millions of people from every area of the world living in peace in Canada with a collective will.Today we will celebrate in a hundred different ways but each event will be a celebration of our country. I am thankful to be an active Canadian with a family that participates in the process.