Susan Zettell

Darning on a snowy day

2012-02-19T15:08:00.001-04:00

Our gentle winter ended yesterday with 40 cm of fresh snow that needed to be blown from the driveway and shovelled from everywhere else today so we could get out to the Fire Department Valentine Salmon dinner & Health Centre auction tonight. Once the shovelling was done, as an excuse to sit down and recover from shovelling, I decided to darn a pair of socks that wore at the heel before their time.

Does anyone darn socks or worn sweater elbows or anything for that matter any more, I wonder? Darning makes me feel old; on the nice side it reminds me of my beloved Grandma Schnarr. Unlike her -- she was precise in everything she did -- I'm a terrible darner but when I have a pair of socks I love -- especially expensive ones like Smart Wool socks, and yes, I'm sorry to say, they do wear out sometimes before they should -- I darn them. If the socks need to be worn in public for dress up or at least to look reasonable, I match sock colour to the closest shade of yarn I have. Today I'm darning a pair of black knee socks (I love knee socks) that aren't for-good socks but I adore them and wasn't ready to give them up, so I decided to repair them using variegated red into pink yarn, just for fun.

If you really want to learn how to darn, here's a you tube video that will show you how. It's a bit slow and tedious -- sorry-- but I like it because it makes my darning look pretty damn good!

Here you go:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4nY1jTVyBE0

Fenella's fresh eggs & three egg poems

2012-02-16T15:32:00.000-04:00

A glorious day, sunny, melting snow. We remind ourselves it is February but it feels like spring.

Today our friend, Fenella, brought us fresh eggs. Her hens are a variety, some old, some not, so the eggs are a variety, too, small blue ones, a wee little white one and some lovely big brown ones. The shell of one looks like old, warty skin! I couldn't resist taking some pictures, then searched out some egg poems and discovered a wonderful poet -- new to me -- Susan Wood. I'm going to order one of her books as a birthday present to myself.

Stanzas to An Egg

Pledge of a feather'd pair's affection,
Kidnapped in thy downy nest,
Soon for my breakfast -- sad reflection! --
Must thou in yon pot be drest.

What are the feelings of thy mother?
Poor bereaved, unhappy hen!

Though she may lay, perchance, another,
Thee she ne'er will see again.

Yet do not mourn. Although above thee
Never more shall parent brood.
Know, dainty darling! that I love thee
Dearly as thy mother could.

from Punch, 1916

Scrambled Eggs and Whiskey

Scrambled eggs and whiskey
in the false-dawn light. Chicago,
a sweet town, bleak, God knows,
but sweet. Sometimes. And
weren't we fine tonight?
When Hank set up that limping
treble roll behind me
my horn just growled and I
thought my heart would burst.
And Brad M. pressing with the
soft stick and Joe-Anne
singing low. Here we are now
in the White Tower, leaning
on one another, too tired
to go home. But don't say a word,
don't tell a soul, they wouldn't
understand, they couldn't, never
in a million years, how fine,
how magnificent we were
in that old club tonight.

Hayden Carruth

Eggs

Morning broke like an egg
on the kitchen floor and I hated
them, too, eggs, how easily they broke
and ran, yellow insides spilling out, oozing

and staining, the flawed
beneath what's beautiful. And I hated
my father, the one
in the henhouse, who laid the plate

on the table and made me
eat, who told me not to get up
until I was done, every
bite. And I hated how I gagged and cried, day

after day, until there was no time
left and he'd give in and I'd go off
to school like that, again, hungry.
But why did I hate eggs

so much? Freud, old banty rooster, who
knew a thing or two about such things, might say
I hated my self, hated the egg
growing in secret deep inside my body,

the secret about to be spilled
to the world, and maybe I did.
Or maybe it's the way the egg
repeats itself again and again, a perfect

oval every time, the way I found myself
furious, standing by my own child's bed
holding a belt, and hit, and saw her face
dissolve in yolk. But that doesn't say

enough about why we hoard
our hurts like golden eggs and foolishly
wait for them to hatch, why
we faced each other across the table,

my father and I, and fought
our battles over eggs and never fought
with them, never once picked up
those perfect ovals and sent them singing

back and forth across the room, the spell
broken like shells, until we were
covered with them, our faces golden
and laughing, both of us beautiful and flawed.

Susan Wood

Valentine's Day 2012: two poems and a picture

2012-02-14T17:15:00.000-04:00

So Much Happiness

It is difficult to know what to do with so much happiness.
With sadness there is something to rub against,
a wound to tend with lotion and cloth.
When the world falls in around you, you have pieces to pick up,
something to hold in your hands, like ticket stubs or change.

But happiness floats.
It doesn't need you to hold it down.
It doesn't need anything.
Happiness lands on the roof of the next house, singing,
and disappears when it wants to.
You are happy either way.
Even the fact that you once lived in a peaceful tree house
and now live over a quarry of noise and dust
cannot make you unhappy.
Everything has a life of its own,
it too could wake up filled with possibilities
of coffee cake and ripe peaches,
and love even the floor which needs to be swept,
the soiled linens and scratched records…..

Since there is no place large enough
to contain so much happiness,
you shrug, you raise your hands, and it flows out of you
into everything you touch. You are not responsible.
You take no credit, as the night sky takes no credit
for the moon, but continues to hold it, and share it,
and in that way, be known.

-- Naomi Shihab Nye

Love after Love

The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other's welcome,

and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.

-- Derek Walcott

Don Petersen: Wildfire Winter Salon #3

2012-02-07T10:54:00.001-04:00

Wildfire Winter Salon had its 3rd meeting, this time with Ruth Schneider presenting a short story by Iowa born writer, Don Petersen. Here's Ruth's preamble:

We will be talking about short story structure and events that change one’s perspective of the world. I’ll be working with some of Don Petersen’s Iowa stories, and I’ll print “Flying High” to pass around.

And here's "Flying High", taken from The Berkshire Anthology, 1972:

When I was about three, my father was standing in the driveway throwing me up to the moon and catching me. Everything was green and clean and Iowa. My brother was watering the lawn, and a money-money-money star had just fallen from the sky. The air was filled with night-hawks, though, suggesting maybe rain, or a death, before morning.

One moment everything was hunky-dorey. Then came the accident. My father missed, and I landed on my head. They rushed me to Mercy Hospital for x-rays. On the way home my father bought me a Hollaway Sucker.

Everything was broken but my bones.

Jitka Zgola will be presenting this coming Friday, Salon #4 and here's her preamble:

Hi fellow salonists,

This week, I would like to follow up on Ruth's examination of the story and look at traditional stories, the pleasures and history of some of the long-time recurrent tales. Perhaps people can come having thought of some of their favourites.

Introvert or extrovert: Wildfire Winter Salon discussion

2012-01-29T11:58:00.000-04:00

Our discussion of shyness yesterday at the Wildfire Winter Salon #2, launched from a reading of a section of Elizabeth Hay's Late Nights On Air (pages 112-114), shifted into talk about introverts and extroverts. It was suggested that introversion was different from shyness; shyness is the fear of negative judgement while introversion is a preference for less stimulation. I came out as an introvert and something interesting happened as we read definitions of the words "introvert" and "extrovert" in dictionaries. I say dictionaries because Wildfire potter Sarah Beck also runs a used book store, so she had many dictionaries in her storage area and we started reading definitions from around 1904, when introversion was then not connected to psychology and there was no definition of extroversion at all, to the 1920s when definitions began to consider personality but without judgement of traits, on to 1954 when extroverts seemed to be considered the norm and introverts were beginning to get a bad rap, on to 1981 where an introvert was defined as unsociable and reserved and an extrovert sociable and unreserved and finally the 1990s when introverts were described as self-centred and narcissistic -- pretty darn negative -- and I began to feel uncomfortable for "coming out" as an introvert but stood by my declaration.

One of our participants remarked that she'd read an article of an interview with Susan Cain, author of The Power of Introverts: A Manifesto for Quiet Brilliance in Scientific American in which Cain states, "In our society, the ideal self is bold, gregarious and comfortable in the spotlight," and goes on to suggest our schools, religious institutions and workplaces are designed for extroverts and encourage group work believing creativity and productivity come from a gregarious place. She says, "Introverts are to extroverts what American women were to men in the 1950s -- second-class citizens with gigantic amounts of untapped talent." The article goes on to make a case for what she calls the "differently social." Here is the article for you to look at yourself.

http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=the-power-of-introverts

And here is another article on introversion by Jonathan Rauch called "Caring for Your Introvert: the Habits and Needs of a Little Understood Group" from Atlantic Unbound that supports the idea that introverts are a misunderstood and often oppressed group. Just click on the site below to read the entire article:

http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2003/03/caring-for-your-introvert/2696/

Wildfire Winter Salon Co-op

2012-01-26T10:19:00.000-04:00

Last winter I began a literary discussion group I called Bits of Books on Friday. I'd pretty much stopped writing and I'd dropped out of my wonderful book group for a variety of reasons. I soon found myself a bit bereft and most especially missed talking about books with thoughtful friends. Because I needed something close to home and my friend Sarah Beck had decided to open her shop Wildfire Pottery and Used Books on Friday afternoons, I asked if I could use her cozy upstairs for meetings and she agreed. During the week I'd gather short readings or a group of poems by different writers, usually centred around a theme -- fathers, humour, food (a very successful meeting) -- and I'd copy and send out the readings in an email. At the beginning of each meeting we'd read the pieces aloud, a part of the meetings I came to thoroughly enjoy, then we'd talk. And talk and talk and talk. It was grand!

This year I'm back to work on my novel and don't have the time to gather readings every week so decided to see if the old group would share the work with me. And so the Wildfire Winter Salon Co-op was born. This is the Wiki definition of a salon:

A salon is a gathering of people under the roof of an inspiring host, held partly to amuse one another and partly to refine taste and increase their knowledge of the participants through conversation. These gatherings often consciously followed Horace's definition of the aims of poetry, "either to please or to educate" ("aut delectare aut prodesse est"). Salons, commonly associated with French literary and philosophical movements of the 17th and 18th centuries, were carried on until quite recently, in urban settings, among like-minded people.

We met for the first time last week to discuss poems by William Stafford, whose deceptively accessible and beautiful poems are some of my favourites. (I'll reproduce some of the poems for you below.) I particularly like how he writes about the natural world.

This week Marion Thompson is going to be our "inspired host" and she's leading a session on shyness, taking a reading from Giller Award winner Elizabeth Hay's wonderful novel, Late Nights On Air.

Here are two Stafford poems about coyotes, with apologies to anyone who knows the poems and knows the format of the second one, Coyotes, and knows that the footstep section is formatted to look like a coyote track. I offer them because after the tragic death of a young woman who was attacked by coyotes in Cape Breton Highlands National Park, there was and continues to be much talk and too many meetings about coyotes, and a great deal of fear has been generated about them. These poems place coyotes in their world, and in ours.

Outside

The least little sound sets the coyotes walking,
walking the edge of our comfortable earth.
We look inward, but all of them
are looking toward us as they walk the earth.
We need to let animals loose in our houses,
the wolf to escape with a pan in his teeth,
and streams of animals toward the horizon
racing with something silent in each mouth.
For all we have taken into our keeping
and polished with our hands belongs to a truth
greater than ours, in the animal´s keeping.
Coyotes are circling around our truth.

Coyote

My left hind-
foot
steps
in the track of my right
fore-
foot
and my hind-right
foot
steps
in the track of my
fore-left
foot
and so on, for miles-
Me paying no attention, while
my nose rides along, letting
the full report, the
whole blast of the countryside
come along toward me
on rollers of scent, and-
I come home with a chicken or
a rabbit and sit up
singing all night with my friends.
It's baroque, my life, and
I tell it on the mountain.
I wouldn't trade it for yours.

William Stafford

Sundance Film Festival: Bear 71 buzz

2012-01-22T18:19:00.003-04:00

I should have been more patriotic and told you a bit about the buzz around the NFB Bear 71 documentary. It was premiered at the 2012 Sundance Film Festival on Jan. 20th as one of four interactive documentaries.

Here's what the Sundance site says about Bear 71:

Jeremy Mendes and Leanne Allison’s poignant interactive documentary about a bear in the Canadian Rockies illuminates the way humans engage with wildlife in the age of networks, satellites, and digital surveillance. Audiences from around the world can use their smartphones to become part of an interactive forest environment rich with bears, cougars, sheep, deer, and people as they follow an emotional story of a grizzly bear tagged and monitored by Banff National Park rangers.

30-minute narrative starts at the top of every hour

This installation will launch in a special ticketed event/reception on Friday, January 20 at 8:00 p.m. at New Frontier.

Additional credits:
Web Designer: Aubyn Freybe-Smith
Sound Designer: Josh Stevenson
Web Writer: Jennifer Moss
Installation Programmers: Vincent McCurley, Steve Lindenberg, Darren Ortiz, Jam3
Project Managers: Janine Steele, Vanessa Fukuyama

And here's Bear 71's entry on the Sundance site. While you're there, you can have a look at what else is happening. Click on the site below:

http://filmguide.sundance.org/film/120021/bear_71

Bear 71: the life of a grizzly bear, an NFB documentary

2012-01-22T11:31:00.002-04:00

Found an interesting article in Maclean's this week about a NFB documentary called Bear 71 that uses trail camera footage spread across an interactive map of Banff National Park to track the life of a tagged grizzly bear and her cubs. You can follow Bear 71 to various favourite locations and also click on other trail cameras to watch footage of elk, foxes, a cougar, deer, ravens etc, and if you put your webcam on you can even keep track of yourself. I didn't have my webcam on but there were two other people visiting the site who did have theirs on and they appeared to be as into the site as I was. So make sure you have your mouse handy (or use direction keys). I was slow to get going on the interacting bit, spent the first few minutes listening to the narration of Bear 71's story expecting pop-ups, then realized I should be busy clicking on various cameras and marked sites while listening. Once I got the hang of it, I was mesmerized. The documentary is 20 minutes long but I stayed longer to view the marked sites I'd missed.

So when you have a little bit of time to sit and watch, I recommend you give this a go. Just click on the site below, get your mouse ready and enjoy:

http://bear71.nfb.ca/#/bear71

And for those of you who don't read comments, here's one from Jen Moss with a little more info and a way you can be more involved with Bear 71:

Thanks for your thoughtful summary Susan. And if anyone is interested - they can actually take part in the Titter 'goings on' at Sundance around the bear 71 launch by searching twitter for #bear71.

More whale bone: a shoulder blade, we think

2012-01-21T14:38:00.002-04:00

Honey & I had a lovely little walk to retrieve a piece of bone I discovered while walking the shore with my friend Bonnie last week. Heavy as... well, all get out. Andy thinks it might be a shoulder blade to the whale backbone my niece Emily found several weeks ago -- it was very close to where she found the spine. Andy had an exchange with a marine biologist, Andrew Hebda, at the Science Museum in Halifax. Here's what he had to say about the backbone (so far we haven't found a skull):

Hi Andy

Tricky to confirm to species, but, yes it is from a whale.

You have the cervical (neck) vertebrae (including the axis and Atlas ) - in cetaceans they are always fused together. If the bones are fairly solid (an adult individual), then it is most likely from a Pilot whale (blackfish / pothead). (I compared the image to the one we have in the collection). A bit big for dolphins, porpoises and Beluga.

If a head turns up, would be easy enough to confirm

Any idea as to when it beached? Might be able to track back through reported strandings in the area.
Cheers

Andrew

A Hebda
NSM Collections

January walk to visit the Lazarus maple

2012-01-17T18:30:00.000-04:00

I'm back to work on the novel, The Lazarus Maple, and after a good morning at the computer and an afternoon chatting on the phone with dear family, I decided to take a late afternoon hike with Honey to visit the grand old sugar maple that inspired the book title. The blustery morning had given way to a grey but balmy afternoon and at the end of our walk, the setting sun appeared from behind the clouds in a glory of light. Here are some photos of the magnificent tree locked to the bank of the brook with its amazing root system. And there are some other photos of our path to the tree and home again. You can click on the photos to enlarge them.

North Shore & District Volunteer Fire Department Annual Lobster Supper and Secret Santa Exchange

2012-01-08T11:36:00.000-04:00

Our local volunteer Fire Department hosts a fundraising lobster supper to bring in the New Year. After the event, the fire-folk stay on to exchange secret Santa gifts. Here's a group shot of those who attended, and a few candid shots of Indian Brook Santa John Roberts, his trusty Tarbot Elf Amy MacInnis and their happy crew. To those of you whose pictures do not appear, I apologise; it is a failure of my photographic skills, not of your lovely faces.

You can click on the photos to enlarge them.

Emily Howey: music and art

2012-01-05T12:37:00.000-04:00

My niece, Emily Howey, came to visit through December and worked incredibly hard to write music and prepare promotional art for a demo CD she hopes to cut in Toronto this January. The drawing above (taken from a photo) shows Em playing banjo on top of a derelict VW Beetle we have out back.

Click on the site below to listen to a few of her new tunes, recorded and uploaded from her computer.

http://soundcloud.com/sh33pskin

Emily's spine: a whale perhaps?

2012-01-02T14:06:00.001-04:00

The question mark is because we don't know for sure. Too big for seal, we're pretty sure, but so far we haven't been able to identify it from marine animal websites.

My niece, Emily Howey, was out for a beach walk when she found this wonderful big backbone of what we think must be a small whale. Though lovely to look at, it stinks when moved, and there was a lot of moving involved to get it off the beach, up over an embankment, into the wheelbarrow, up a long driveway (bless you, Andy) to the car & trailer, into the trailer and finally unloaded. It's now stashed out back on a wood pile pallet and hopefully the elements (teeming with rain this afternoon) will do their magic and cleanse the thing.

A new year: 2012

2012-01-01T13:06:00.002-04:00

The Laughing Heart

your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is a light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.

-- Charles Bukowski

Auld Lang Syne: Robert Burns

1

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o' lang syne?

And for auld lang syne, my jo,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

2

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp!
And surely I'll be mine!
And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

Chorus

3

We twa hae run about the braes
And p'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary foot
Sin auld lang syne.

Chorus

4

We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn,
Frae mornin' sun till dine;
But sea between us braid hae roar'd
Sin auld lang syne.

Chorus

5

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak a right gude-willy waught,
For auld lang syne.

Chorus

Merry Christmas 2011

2011-12-25T07:22:00.002-04:00

Andy in front of fisherman Lloyd Michael MacInnis's lobster trap tree.

Click on pictures to enlarge them.

Dec. 24, 2011

2011-12-24T11:35:00.000-04:00

Snow bower

Birches at dawn

For those who are not so happy at Christmas

2011-12-23T18:00:00.003-04:00

Tiffany, Bernadette, Susan (standing); Marie & Anne sitting

I wasn't sure I was going to write a post this Christmas because I knew it wasn't going to be a happy one, but I realize there are other people out there whose hearts are aching, missing a family member or partner or friend who has died, or perhaps is away from home. As I type, fat flakes of snow swirl past my window, the tall spruce are laden, heavy branches slow shimmying in the wind, bushes cotton-wooly, stems black brush strokes beneath the snow. It's pretty out there, that's for sure, snow accumulating quickly, muffling noise, dressing up the landscape. Daniel and Noelle, who were to drive up today to stay with us over the holidays, will come tomorrow morning. No big deal, but I was ready for them. And I will be ready tomorrow, but if I could wish them here swiftly and safely, I would.

I miss my sister, Bernadette, who died in October, and because of her death, this year I also miss the rest of my family. John & Tanja & Mackenzie and my entire big and extended family in Ontario and Andy's family, too. I want them ALL here in my living room, or I want to transport all the people I love here in Nova Scotia and our beloved Dawsonites with us to be with the Ontarians. Not going to happen. This isn't a movie or a sappy novel. It doesn't end that way for most of us.

I will admit right now that I am not at my best in the pre-solstice, low light, coming-into-Christmas time. I always thought I hated Christmas, a time in which I felt inadequate to the challenges of buying the right gifts, making the ones I loved most happy, making the right food (my son hated the way I cooked a turkey and told me, after eating a Thanksgiving turkey that my sister, Nancy, cooked, that her way was the best way to cook turkey), decorating (I love a very spare tree most), being joyous, being religious, so it took our move north to the Yukon for me to realize it was the lack of light that brought me low as much as anything, because I went into a profound depression that had nothing to do with anything I could pinpoint, and turned out to have everything to do with only four or so hours of daylight, with none of it very bright. So in fact I like Christmas (as I write this I think I am lying but I'm not going to analyse that) but I don't so well in the dark.

Regarding the dark: I want to thank my neighbours Shelly & Maxine Dauphney for putting up the most exquisite grouping of lights in the world. Their lights are geometric and vari-coloured, and stretch to vividly light up a house and trees set well back from the Cabot Trail. Last year the lights went up late and I had almost despaired when driving home one evening, there they were, and life was once again good. This year their lights are the best ever.

Now to my sister, Bernadette. She converted to Jehovah Witness several years ago and I asked about missing family Christmases, which are big events in our family that she used to host in Ayr with her husband, Alex. I teased her, because of my own antipathy for the holiday, that the reason she had converted was because she would never have to go through Christmas again. She looked at me sideways, as she liked to do when having a serious discussion, and dead-panned, "You could be right, but I'm not admitting anything." And the twinkle and slow smile she always gave when turning the serious on its head, was there. And we laughed. I missed her more at Christmas largely due to the fact that she didn't celebrate it. I miss her terribly this Christmas because she isn't here NOT to celebrate it.

So I think what I'm getting at is to tell all of you who are sad for whatever reason today, two days before Christmas, that it's all right to be sad. But I also want to wish you whatever happiness you can find in the season. The cards from friends you never see any more, but love to hear from. The carols (religious carols always make me cry) that don't grate too much. Like our pretty snow (despite it keeping my loved ones from me), like Shelly and Maxine's lights, like the sound of the wind in the eaves, like the giddy laughter of Alistair Sim's Scrooge when he awakens alive and with enough time to make amends, or my own laughter when the dogs steal the turkey in The Christmas Story, or when the child falls into the snow bank and can't move because he has so many clothes on. No matter what it is, I hope it comes to you, presents itself in such a way that your dark and bruised heart can open to it and embrace whatever solace and lightness is offered.

So my friends, tidings of comfort and joy in whatever wee increments and small ways you are able to manage. And if you can't manage it this year, let's hope next year is gentler to us all.

Our spare, but pretty tree

Our little drunken dancing moose

2011-11-23T17:41:00.001-04:00

Last night at midnight we heard voices at the road. Andy got up and saw a pick-up truck with one headlight in our driveway and upon investigation (he got dressed and drove down to the road) learned a moose had been struck and killed on the Cabot Trail very close to our house. This morning I went down to have a look and there on the side of the road was our constant Fall visitor, an orphaned female calf, who one day ate too many fermented fallen apples and became known to us as the drunken moose. (The photo shows her legs as I found them, complete with Tim Horton's cup.) Click on Andy's blog for details and a link to a video on You Tube of the silly dance the moose did one rainy day.

Bernadette Mary Bryans (nee Zettell)

2011-11-08T12:47:00.001-04:00

In order of age from right to left: Susan, Anne, Bernadette, Patrick, Nancy, Jim, Jackie & Jerry

Bernadette and granddaughter Abigail

Erik, Nathan, Lindsey & Michael, Bernadette's other grandkids

BRYANS, Bernadette Mary (nee Zettell) Passed away on her 58th birthday at Cambridge Memorial Hospital on October 31, 2011, after a brief illness. Having enjoyed retired life in Ayr the past several years along with her husband Alex, Bernadette found a second career doing service work as a Sister of Jehovah's Witnesses, to which she converted in her later life.

Survived by her parents Jerry and Loretta Zettell of Goderich, sisters Susan Zettell and husband Andy Watt of North Shore, NS, Anne Knittle and husband Peter of Brucefield, Nancy Zettell Pope and husband Rick of Ottawa, Jackie Howey and partner Mark Poser of Kitchener. Brothers Patrick and partner Cindy Friolet of Kitchener, Jim of Kitchener and Jerry of Cambridge. Bernadette leaves behind two loving daughters, Tiffany Klassen and husband Heinz of Kitchener; Kristine Collar and partner Tom Garland of Colborne. Blessed with five grandchildren, Erik and Lindsey Klassen and Nathan, Michael and Abigail Garland.

Fondly remembered by her many Brothers and Sisters in service and the Fellowship of Jehovah's Witnesses Kingdom Hall.

Bernadette was predeceased by her infant child, Sarah Collar and her brother Tom.

Bernadette's life will be celebrated at Ayr Chapel, Wm. Kipp Funeral Home , 183 Northumberland St., Ayr, on Friday, November 4 at 2 p.m., also at the Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses (143 King Edward St., Paris) on Saturday, November 5 at 2 p.m. All are welcome to attend.

The family will honour Bernadette's wishes for cremation. Donations to the Carcinoid-Neuroendocrine Tumor Society Canada (www.cnetscanada.org) or Cambridge Memorial Hospital (www.cmh.org). Online condolences or donations may be arranged through: www.wmkippfuneralhome.com or by contacting Wm. KIPP 519-632 8228.

A eulogy for Bernadette

I’m going to start my talk this afternoon with a piece Anne wrote in memory of both Bernadette and our brother Tom, who died on Nov. 3rd, 1987. Our Grandma Schnarr was a seamstress and a quilt maker, and this piece reflects upon the strong and loving bonds of our family, using images of quilting and sewing to illuminate the comfort that family provides.

Family Mosaic

Our family is like a quilt, comprised of many pieces.

Each piece different and unique, but when pieced and stitched together they form a beautiful mosaic.

The colours and textures vary but complement one another.

Blocks of flannel were sewn into pyjamas for the boys.

Lovely colourful floral prints were fashioned into dresses for the girls.

Crisp cottons were transformed into Lady Manhattan blouses, perfectly top stitched.

All the garments were made by loving Grandma hands, the scraps saved for wedding quilts.

The quilt is sewn in quiet contemplation, one stitch at a time, and the mosaic emerges.

Each unique piece holds its own story and place in time.

The many layers of the quilt are bound with sturdy cotton, holding all the pieces steadfast.

By design it provides warmth and comfort; it is treasured.

The more fragile fabrics wear over time and the binding frays from use and wear.

These frayed edges are lovingly repaired, reinforcing the bond between the many layers.

Stitches break, and the fullness wanes, but the loving comfort the quilt provides never diminishes.

Bernadette Mary, 31 October 1953 – 31 October 2011
Thomas Jerome, 28 June 1957 – 3 November 1987

On October 31, 1953, at our Grandma and Grandpa Schnarr’s farm in Rosedale, which is not far from Bloomingdale, my father was preparing me for trick-or-treating when my mother told him she was in labour and there would be no going out except to St. Mary’s Hospital. Bernadette Mary Zettell was born at 11:30 PM and became the third little girl in the burgeoning Zettell family. With her gentle round face, abundant dark hair, pert little mouth and turned up nose, she was very soon nicknamed Bunny, and Bunny she has remained to her family. Over the next four years our family moved three times: from the farm in Rosedale to stay with our Grandma Zettell on Chestnut St. to keep her company after our Grandpa Zettell died; to an apartment on Mansion St. not far from downtown Kitchener; and finally to the brand new bungalow on 59 Gerard St. in the brand new subdivision of Kingsdale at the very eastern edge of the city at that time. That’s the home we all grew up in, where we attended St. Aloysius School and Church and where we all mightily challenged our poor parents as teenagers and launched ourselves into the world as young adults.

Bunny was a normal little girl, a dark beauty, a lover of trees whom she saw as her friends. I have been told she was known to have intimate chats with them. She came home late for lunch most Wednesdays as Wednesday was garbage day and she liked to pick through the trash for treasures on her way home from school. She had normal childhood emergencies , like the time she swallowed a balloon and had to be taken to hospital for x-rays, and the time she stuffed stones up her nose, a habit she passed on to her daughter Tiffany who went a softer route and stuffed beans into her nose (twice) instead of stones. She had a lovely singing voice and competed in the annual school competitions singing “When Grandpa Was a Little Girl Like Me” the same year Anne sang “Shenandoah”. Bunny’s Grade Four class was in an experimental program that was offered French language classes. Perhaps that’s what sparked her love of travel in Canada and in foreign countries.

During school holidays, Bunny worked at the Dairy Queen, the beginning of her working career. She worked at Central Park Lodge where she met Lee Collar, whom she married. Bunny and Lee lost their first baby, Sarah, at birth and against her doctor’s orders she quickly got pregnant and had Tiffany, then soon after, Kristine. When her marriage to Lee ended, she and Tiffany lived together while Kristine lived with Lee. At this time Bunny started working at Zellers where she eventually retired as Personnel Manager. Not ready to give up on paid work, Bunny became the receptionist at Ayr Chiropractic, a job she absolutely loved. Her last paying job before she retired was in the office of Driver Check. I often wondered aloud if my random drug tests from my job at Brinks Canada went through her computer, but she would never say. That’s the kind of woman she was: discreet, trustworthy, honourable.

During the time Bunny worked at Zellers she met Alex Bryans on a night out with Nancy at the Coronet Hotel. Nancy told me that Alex would drive them home, but soon she realized that Alex drove her home and then stayed over with Bunny. Alex and Bernadette lived together on Lorraine Ave. in Kitchener, then moved to Cambridge. When Alex became sick with cancer, Bernadette didn’t know how to drive and because Alex’s treatments were in Toronto she decided she had to learn pronto. She commissioned Anne’s partner Pat Bolger to teach her to drive and passed her test on the first try. That week she drove to Toronto on her own to visit him. That’s the kind of woman she was: determined, brave, steadfast.

Anne told me a story about the driving lessons. Pat often took Bunny out for lessons early in the morning when there was little traffic. Without other cars to practice around he created imaginary situations. Imagine a car here and a car there, he would say, and park between them. She took the imaginary lessons seriously and come Christmas she brought Pat a great big beautifully wrapped gift with lovely bows. Pat undid the bows and removed the pretty paper and there was a box. He opened the box and it was empty. “And that, Pat,” Bunny said, “is an imaginary present.” That’s the kind of woman she was: cool, droll, very funny.

Bunny loved to drive and she loved to drive fast. She was known to get speeding tickets on occasion and in fact was known to get two in one day. If she had passengers and was talking she could be a slightly distracted driver. If you are talking to Anne, get her to tell you the story of the turtle bumps. Or better yet, ask my mother because she is the one who ended up hitting her head on the ceiling of Bunny’s car.

Bunny often worried that she had not been a very good mother, but something good must have rubbed off because Tiffany and Kristine are excellent mothers. Her glory though was her grandchildren: Erik and Lindsey Klassen, Nathan, Michael and Abigail Garland. With them her devotion, full attention and playfulness blended to creative bliss of grandmothering. From camping, to overnighters called Never say No when all sensible requests were granted, to beach days and special outings, every detail had to do with the children’s pleasure. She was the very best!

Now we come to the part of the story where Bunny became Bernadette. During her time at the Ayr Chiropractic, and maybe before, but this is when I became aware of it, Bunny began to search for some broader meaning in life. I am not sure, but I think she tried some New Age type mediations and then she opened her door one day to Debbie Conrad and she invited her in. Along with meeting a woman who would become her dearest friend, she began to study the Bible and she discovered a new way to live, a life in service, a life devoted to the teachings and the spreading of the teachings in the Bible under the guidance and love of Jehovah. Bernadette’s study released all that was fine and good in her. Her bright and quick mind was stimulated, her natural easy way with people encouraged, her sense of service, of compassion, of love was kindled and nurtured. Though her life was not always easy, she was as happy as I have ever known her, and for this she was blessed, and so were we, her family.

Bernadette’s illness came as a shock to us all. The seriousness of it, the way it so quickly incapacitated her left us breathless and heartbroken, left us longing for respite for her from her infirmity and discomfort, and scrambling for ways to help her fight against the disease, or at least to keep up with the changes it brought every day. In the end we had to accept that she was going to die sooner than we could ever have imagined. We had to accept it with the courage and grace that she did. Even in hospital in her last days she rose up to listen to a Bible reading, to tell us what she learned from the words. She rose up to try to encourage a solution to a difficult situation with her roommate. She rose up to accept and give love to those of us who came to spend time with her. She gave every little bit of herself to us all for as long as she could. And then she died and in our deep sorrow we were grateful to her, and grateful that she was no longer suffering.

I do not believe what Bernadette believed and I never will, but this is my hope for her. That what she believed will be true for her. That she will once again bodily join her brothers and sisters on earth and live the fullness of her being.

On behalf of Alex and Bernadette and our family I want to thank you all for being here today, especially those who have come from a distance. Thank you to all who brought food and flowers and sent cards, to those who called or emailed, those who visited, those who offered help and solace. You are all very kind.

To end, I want to read a list of things Bunny loved, a list Anne sent to me. She loved:

Her husband Alex, daughters Tiffany and Kristine and their partners Heinz and Tom, her grandchildren Nathan , Michael, Abigail, Erik and Lindsey, her parents Jerry and Loretta, her siblings, Suzi, Annie, Tom, Pat, Nancy, Jimmy, Jackie and Jerry and their partners and their children.

She loved:

Jehovah and the Bible, especially the Psalms
Her church family
Artichoke bites
Gorgonzola cheese
Spaghetti and meatballs
Sculptured art
Boiled wool sweaters
Going to market
A good wine and good music
Going to the beach with her grandkids
Wiping her sink, then drying it
Colourful accessories
Fuzzy socks and fuzzy blankets
Holly and Esther and Debbie
And she loved gravy on her coleslaw, which Anne assures me is really rather good

Thank you all for being here, for loving Bernadette.

Phallus impudicus (with flies)

2011-10-23T16:20:00.001-03:00

On our way though a cut area near the end of our walk today, I heard a loud buzzing coming from the ground. Before I located the origin of the sound I smelled a horrendously disgusting odour, something like rotting meat. I assumed I would find a dead animal with flies and wasps about it. What I did find was a tall white mushroom with a phallus-like head covered in gorging bluebottles (sorry guys), just as you see in the photos above. Too bad I can't create a scratch and sniff picture for you -- then again, be grateful!

Here's a summary of a description of the Phallus inpudicus that I found online:

The Witches Egg, commonly known as Stinkhorn (Phallus impudicus), is a fungus worthy of the Halloween season. It shows itself in summer through to late autumn as an egg shape in the ground. Found in most woods, it is very common. The egg sack remains half buried in the soil and looks much like a freshly shelled and planted hard boiled egg.

The egg sack is soft and has a gelatinous feel with a jelly like layer beneath. At this young stage, the fungus is said to be edible, but is not highly rated. It’s also said to be an aphrodisiac, but I’m not sure for whom, except perhaps for flies.

The egg soon breaks apart and that’s when the smell starts. The fungus grows into a familiar phallic shape, rising up to 25cm high, but on average they grow to around 14cm. By this time the smell is quite obvious, a sewerish or rotting meat-like odour.

The distinctive head, which exudes both spores and stink, is initially a dark olive/black. This outer part is soon devoured by insects, leaving a white honey comb pattern with raised ribs.

Eventually the Stinkhorn dissolves back into the earth.

You can click on the images to enlarge them.

Watt & England wedding: last instalment

2011-10-02T16:14:00.001-03:00

These are the last of the photos I have for now, a mix from two other cameras and I will be posting them randomly. As always, click on them to enlarge. Enjoy!

From Tanja's camera:

Daniel waiting for Noelle.

Flower girls: Evelyn, Mackenzie & Clara.

Noelle & Daniel, finally together.

Noelle & Daniel pledge their troth.

Sheila and Penny feeding pretend puppies.

Penny & Alistair dancing.

John Watt Sr. & Susan dancing.

From Marion's camera:

Andy, Susan & John Roberts waiting in front of the Shadow Lawn Inn.

Shadow Lawn Inn, Rothesay, New Brunswick, a perfect setting for a wedding!

Susan & Penny.

The marriage certificate.

Married.

Andy starting to relax.

John & Tanja.

Susan, Nancy, John, Tanja & Anne.

Noelle's mother, Suzanne Simone England. (Thank you, Suzanne!)

Sisters!

Anne with the mother of the groom and Andy McVicker looking on.

John & Susan.

Our lovely bride.

Brothers in disguise.

Noelle & Penny & Sheila.

The wedding: Noelle England & Daniel Watt

2011-09-30T18:35:00.001-03:00

I will be adding to these pictures from friend's cameras soon. You can click on the pictures to enlarge them.

Daniel and Brendan, an old family friend, with Marion.

Bridesmaids.

John signing the marriage certificate.

Newlyweds.

Weeping and laughing, the Kleenex girls.

Dawson family triangle.

Bonnie & Nancy.

Nancy, Tanja, John & Anne.

A brother's toast.

Cutting the cake.

First dance.

Bride's dance with her father: Noelle and Michael.

In disguise!

Michael, Susan & Andy... could you tell?

Rehearsal party and family visit: Daniel Watt & Noelle England wedding

2011-09-30T12:39:00.000-03:00

This will be a random selection of photos starting with Dawson family visit in Cape Breton, moving on to the rehearsal party at the Shadow Lawn Inn in Rothesay, New Brunswick, to our free day touring Saint John. In fact this post is to help keep me smiling as the Dawson family has just left for Halifax to will fly out early tomorrow morning and I am more than a little sad. I will begin a new post with more wedding pictures and another for the rest of the Dawson family visit in Cape Breton.

A mornign walk in the woods with Mackenzie.

A Clucking Hen breakfast with friends.

Mackenzie's house.

The rehearsal party: Daniel & Noelle and the kids.

Family: Nancy Zettell Pope, Daniel, Andy, Anne Knittle (Zettell), Susan, Tanja Westland, Mackenzie Westland Watt, John.

Daniel & Mackenzie belting them out (or more likely, Daniel's one tune & Mack's reaction).

Mackenzie and Susan.

Saint John and area tour: downtown & the Irving Reserve Park.

Daniel Watt & Noelle England: the wedding

2011-09-27T10:20:00.000-03:00

Here are a few pictures of Daniel & Noelle's wedding on Saturday, September 24th. I'll add more photos as I have time and as more come in from friends and family. The day started with rain but the sun came out just in time for the bride to arrive. It was a grand day: a warm, moving & gently funny ceremony, a joyous party & dance, endless bits of wonderful food. As Sheila commented, she is waiting for another tray of delicate cranberry and cheese tarts to pass by.

The wedding party: a kiss

Flower girls: Mackenzie and Clara

Cake topper: handmade for the occasion

Waiting to get dressed: 12 minutes after 2 on the new watch

Still waiting: 15 minutes after 2

Watts gather

Zettell sisters arrive: Anne Knittle and Nancy Zettell Pope

Brave girl(s)

2011-09-20T22:55:00.000-03:00

We had huge winds last night so the sea was big. Mackenzie, when she saw the waves at Little River Beach, decided she needed to jump them. First her feet got wet, then her pants, then my feet, then my pants. She stripped down a bit; I didn't. The sun was bright, the water was surprisingly warm and we both enjoyed ourselves. So did Honey.

Daniel & Noelle wedding prelude 2: transformation, Dawson Mountain man to the best man

2011-09-20T18:48:00.001-03:00

Over the last three days, John trimmed his beard, had a haircut and had an emergency appendectomy. I think his transformation is complete. For now. Wait till you see him in his new suit...

Daniel & Noelle's wedding: the prelude as family gathers

2011-09-16T15:08:00.002-03:00

Daniel & Noelle are getting married on September 24th and last week Andy & I drove to Halifax to pick up our Dawson City family, who have come for the celebration. We spent a couple of nights at Penny's so we could visit everyone, then returned to Cape Breton to await travel to New Brunswick next week. Here are some pictures of our reunion and some summer fun (finally we had some beach weather) on the North Shore.

You can click on the pictures to enlarge them.

Waiting at the airport.

Together again: John, Tanja, Mackenzie, Noelle & Daniel.

Daniel & Andy McVicker's creations for Mackenzie while visiting at Aunt Penny's house. (Thank you Penny!)

Mackenzie's apple tree.

First apple!

A walk with the birds.

Mackenzie resting with Honey.

Mackenzie & Tanja on Kestrel.

Mackenzie at the tiller with Andy adjusting sails.

Campfire night.

Two Little River beach days.

In the yard after the beach.

Princess Mackenzie on her way to becoming Rapunzel.

Visiting the Yonder homestead on Meadow Road.

Good friend, Mya, comes for a visit.

Goderich update: Royal Canadian Navy helps with tornado relief work

2011-09-16T13:23:00.001-03:00

Anne has graced us with another Goderich report, this time with news of the visit from HMCS Summerside and Shawinigan whose crews have come to help with the tornado relief work. Included are some photos Anne took of buildings still in need of demolition or repair so you can see that there is a lot of work yet to be done, of the ships, and of family members posing with crew members -- thanks guys.

And as always, thank you Anne.

There was excitement in the air today, despite water spout warnings off the Lake Huron shore that persisted throughout the day till late afternoon. Water spouts that traverse to land evolve into tornados but it would not dampen our resolve to spend the morning at the harbor. HMCS Shawinigan and HMCS Summerside sailed into port in Goderich at 8 am this morning under 3 meter swells. Their arrival stirred an excitement in town that has been missing for some weeks. They were well received.

Brother Jim, who has been here for a week on vacation, and I left at 10 am for Goderich. Our aim, to tour town and to pick up Mom and Dad and see the ships. The HMCS crew announced on local radio this morning that they planned on cleaning the War Memorial on the town square, cleaning veterans graves in the Maitland Cemetery that was badly damaged in the August 21st tornado and volunteer for general cleanup in Courthouse Square.

When we arrived in town we parked on East Street and walked to the square. I have attached pictures of areas of East Street that still require a great deal of clean up. Wrecked cars and debris still litter many areas of East Street, one of the worst hit areas. The flattened gazebo on Courthouse square has been removed and almost all of the tree trunks and stumps are gone. Hopefully, it will soon be time to begin planting the BIG trees.

There are a few stores open on the square, you can tell when an new store is open as large blue and white ribbons and bows are are attached to the store front to signify “come on in”. Not all stores have their signs replaced yet so the ribbons announce to all that it is business as usual. There were many trucks on the square today as some of the badly damaged stores and restaurants were being emptied of their merchandise and furnishings today. Another sign that things are moving forward one small step at a time.

Arriving on the square, we saw that the HMCS crew’s were hard at work. The War Memorial was cleaned and the crew’s were raking the court house grass that they report was still full of glass shards and small bits of debris. We left East Street headed for the newly reopened TD Bank on the corner of Victoria Street and St. David Street. As promised, the TD bank reopened Sept 12th and, as promised, it was still quite a mess but no was was complaining. We ran into a road block at the bank and were forced up St. David Street. There are many houses on St David Street that are awaiting demolition and I have attached a picture of one of them. As you can see, there is still a lot of work to be done before these homeowners can return to their normal lives and fall is quickly approaching.

We picked up Mom and Dad and headed for the harbor. The ships to our surprise were berthed side by each, like two sausages. They were taking on stores and fuel so that may have accounted for the strange berthing. There were crew at dock side who were friendly and talkative. We had a wonderful chat with two crew and one sailor went over to talk to Dad in the car. It was very cold today, 9 degrees, and very windy so Dad was confined to the car. The young sailor sat in the drivers seat of my car and he and Dad talked for the longest time. I thought that was very kind of him. The Navy was Dad’s force and he was delighted with the visit.

The repair work on the salt mine and the grain elevators is progressing, albeit slowly, as the damage was extensive but it has not prevented shipping. Several ships have been into port to take on salt, soya beans and wheat over the past three weeks. After our visit to the harbor we had a take out lunch together and Jim and I headed home.

Ship Facts: HMCS Shawinigan and HMCS Summerside

Class: Kingston (maritime coastal defense vessel)
Length: 55.3 m
Beam: 11.3M
Weapons: BOFORS 40 mm Rapid Fire Gun and M2 .50 Calibre Heavy Machine Gun
Displacement: 970 tonnes (full load)
Complement: Minimum crew of 31-47 (mission dependent)
Range: 5,000 nautical miles at 8 knots
Speed: 15+ knots
Operations: Mine countermeasures, counter-terrorism, anti-smuggling ops., resource protection, disaster relief

You can click on the photos to enlarge them.

Goderich tornado: tent banking, postal service resumed and getting around town

2011-08-31T09:05:00.001-03:00

My sister, Anne, our intrepid front-line reporter in Goderich, was to visit my parents yesterday. Once again she has vividly chronicled her day doing chores with my mother and sent along some pictures to show how the town is managing. What is clear is that Goderich is managing, and doing so with grace and care and determination. It was heartening to know, that along with repairing damage to homes and businesses, there is a plan to plant large trees on the square. It looks so desolate without them.

You can click on the pictures to enlarge them.

I left home today for my visit with Mom and Dad in Goderich with an agenda. Take Mom to the TD Canada Trust Bank, which is a three sided tent in the parking lot of the Suncoast Mall, and take her to the new Post Office which opened yesterday.

It is not often you enter the bank and the staff hug you but they did today. They are so glad to see us and while they may not have any wickets, in fact they have a table and chairs, a cell phone and a lap top, they were helpful. They also offered us lunch, a sub sandwich, which we declined. They told us they hoped to have two wickets open in the old bank by September 12th. They warned that the repairs would not be done yet and it may be dusty and dirty but would we mind? Would we use the bank anyway? The answer of course was sure. A little dirt and dust is a small price to pay for the convenience of having the bank open. There is a lot of dust and grit flying around in the air all over Goderich, why not in the bank too.

The new Post Office opened yesterday and is a very small storefront inside the Suncoast Mall. You can’t enter the Post Office as every square foot is filled with boxes of mail and parcels. The last mail delivery in Goderich was on August 19th. You line up outside the storefront, a snaking line down that wing of the mall and around the corner to the main corridor. The wait yesterday was one and one half hours but today we lucked out, only waited in line for 35 minutes. Waiting is a curious thing lately. Nothing happens quickly, line ups are usual and everyone is patient. I wonder if that will be a lasting part of the new normal that is emerging? We saw a few people we knew in the mail line. Lou Petrie, a seasonal at Shelter Valley and a member of Mom and Dad’s church was in line. Lou’s daughter lives on Picton Street, near the salt evaporator plant, she lost her home in the tornado while her son, who lives a block from his sister had no damage. Things were so random! All in her family are doing OK.

After the mall, we drove to the town square, or at least as close as we could get to the square. The locked down area is shrinking as the clean up progresses. We were able to drive up Colborne Street to within one store of the square. We walked the short distance to the lock down barrier and I had my first close view of the courthouse and store fronts. The courthouse had all it’s windows blown out and it will be four months till repairs are done. Goderich was the county seat so court has been moved to Walkerton for the time being. The debris has all but vanished. Workers were loading the last pile into a dump truck while we were there. It is very bare. The gazebo in courthouse square that offered Sunday afternoon concerts under shady maples lays on the ground like a flattened pancake. You could never see across the square for as long as we have lived here but now, you can spot a sparrow clear across the courthouse mews. One of the first projects to be undertaken by the parks department is to plant trees. There goal is to have enough new trees planted on the square by late fall so they can decorate for the Christmas Parade and Pageant. And not just small trees, but BIG trees. The list will have to include maple, oak, chestnut, pine, blue spruce, linden and walnut to replicate the old canopy. There are a few young small trees that survived the gale. Like all things young, they were obviously supple and resilient.

The lovely, usually overflowing lamp post plant hangers are dry and brittle. You could hear the rustle of the long dry fronds in the brisk wind we had today. The wind pulled up swirls of grit from the street that blew in our face and eyes. There is grit and dust everywhere. They were sweeping the square and washing the street with big machines. A good sign. The mayor, Deb Shewfelt said on the radio yesterday that they were trying to have the square open for the weekend. There will not be any stores open and there will be nothing to buy but that really isn’t very important. There will still be some barricaded areas, part of West Street and East Street where the heritage buildings were severely damaged, but one could stroll, or should I say circle the square in an afternoon walk this Saturday if that goal is met.

That was our day. I dropped Mom off and came home and picked my tomatoes and green peppers and canned stewed tomatoes with lots of celery and onion for winter stews and soups. Tomorrow I will pick pears and make pear marmalade.

Hope the sun has found you again and that the wind has waned.

I almost forgot, Jimmy Johnson, our friend who was badly injured at the main beach in Goderich when the fish and chip wagon was picked up by the tornado and rolled over him, was transferred by ambulance from the Health Science Center in London to hospital in Clinton on Sunday. He will spend his long recovery closer to home and friends. Peter was in to visit him on Monday and reports while he is in a lot of pain yet, his spirit is strong and his outlook positive.

Love you,

Annie

Goderich update: service alternatives

2011-08-30T07:24:00.005-03:00

My sister, Anne, who sent the early reports from Goderich post-tornado, has sent an update on how people are managing and how businesses are trying to accommodate their customers. Many banks and services are located on the gorgeous and now ruined city square. As Anne mentions, the bank, the post office, the credit union as well as the lovely Victoria St. church all suffered damage, some of it very extensive. The photos show an old picture postcard of the square taken even before the storm several years ago had leveled most of the trees in the heart of the city, and a photo from the London Free Press that shows the square after the tornado. You can click on the photos to enlarge them.

Here's Anne's latest front-line report:

I will visit Mom and Dad tomorrow and have a look around town. They bank at TD Canada Trust and it will be some time before the TD branch is open in Goderich again. The TD is right across the street from Victoria Street United Church, the church that was so extensively photographed. Needless to say, the TD Bank also had extensive damage. They have a contingency plan that I located on line and have printed out for Mom so she knows what she needs to do. TD customers can use any ATM in town that is working and all fees charged by an ATM or any other financial institution will be fully reimbursed by TD for as long as the Goderich branch is closed. The are also running a free shuttle service every hour on the hour starting at 10 am Monday to Friday to the TD bank in Seaforth for any customer who needs to visit a TD branch. I thought that was very nice and unexpected.

Mail service, or a fashion of same began again in Goderich today. You need to pick up your mail at the Suncoast Mall as there will not be home delivery for some time to come. I expect the line ups were very long today. Mom thought she may wait until tomorrow to go as she did not want to wait in an hour long line. I can take her there tomorrow morning and we can wait together.

Our next door neighbor visited yesterday. He works for a large construction company here in Huron County. He was telling me that they had a meeting Friday at the end of the work day and were advised that as of today, there will be work available 7 days a week and they would like them all to consider a 7 day work week as so many buildings need repair before the snow flies. They have already replaced trusses and the roof on the Goderich Credit Union and there are many more to do.

There is a Goderich town counselor who reports all the new developments each day on the local radio at 8 am. He is homeless due to the tornado and sleeps and takes his meals in the homes of various people around town. He is a remarkable individual. He is always upbeat, always laughing and quick to find the humor in almost any circumstance in spite of his current situation. Today, after his official report he explained that he went to London on Sunday for the day. He needed to get away, have a bit of a break. I can understand that, being in Goderich day after day affects you emotionally. He said he went to the Masonville Mall in London and was stopped by people in the mall parking lot when they saw his Goderich license plate. He was overwhelmed by the concern and good wishes he received from total strangers when they saw where he was from. I thought that was nice. It sure made him feel better. I doubt those people who took the time to speak to him have any idea how much that meant to him and how deserving he was of their good intentions.

A good friend of ours, Doran Love, the retired manager of the Goderich Scotia Bank has been chosen as one of the representatives on the Goderich Reimbursement Committee. The committee will be mandated with the task of allocating disaster funds granted to Goderich by the provincial and federal government based on an application process. People who have no insurance, not enough insurance to rebuild their homes, as well as heritage building restoration requests will be reviewed by this committee. It will be a difficult, unenviable task but Doran is well suited to the job. He is a lovely man, well respected, hard working and very community minded aside from being a good businessman.

Hurricane Irene, mending an apple tree and a Goderich postscript

2011-08-29T18:42:00.001-03:00

After drowsing through the off and on rain during the night, more off than on, the wind started blowing hard around 4 AM and that was it for me. It wasn't pounding nor even ominous, but the gusts rattled the blinds and there was a certain heavy, wet energy (maybe due to the Coke I shared with Andy during the movie The Help) that made me restless. I finally stuffed some tissue in my ears and slept a bit, but was up around 6:15 for good.

Indoors everything felt damp, the chair cushions, my clothes, my skin, Honey's hair, the towels especially, as the air was thick with humidity. Outside was warm and soupy, low and grey with cloud, the occasional mist drifted past us on the wind. Over the ocean, the sky was beginning to lighten, clouds scuttling in the wind, and the day looked promising enough. Strong, knock-you-over gusts alternated with a steady stiff breezes, everything was in motion, blades of grass, every leaf twirled, flowers danced, spruce needles and debris churned in the wind.

Honey and I did the rounds of sheds and gardens and the only damage was to one of Mackenzie's little apple trees, the one most laden with apples of course. The swirling winds made the heavy branches twist and turn until the wood split where the branch met the trunk of the tree. I have just finished reading the Stieg Larsson trilogy and in one of the books Blomkvist tapes up Lisbeth Salander's gunshot holes with duct tape, so with that in mind I hauled out the duct tape and found a long 2 X 2 and repaired the wounded tree. Three times the branch gave way again until I finally pounded the shaft of a broken golf club (remember that Daniel?) deep into the ground and taped the stake to the club. So far, so good.

After breakfast we drove down to Little River wharf to check on Kestrel, which was safe and unruffled. The harbour water was dark grey, wavy and stippled.

While Andy bailed the boat, Honey and I went to the open side of Little River Harbour looking toward Breton Cove.There were low waves sheered by the wind, and a dog with flapping ears looking for loot, crab bits, lobster shells, anything remotely edible thrown up on the beach. She was good enough to sit and pose for me before she devoured the crab shell.

This afternoon the sky cleared completely, the wind lessened but remained fierce enough to remind us there had been a hurricane around. My friend, Marion, and I swam with Bev Brett at Little River beach, forced into the water by the minute glass-sliver shards of sand being driven into our bodies by the wind. The tide was low, the expanse of sand endless and lovely, the water churned up (no jellyfish)and warm and the beach empty but for one other couple. There were waves of course, the kind that catch you off guard, but no matter. After swimming we lay on the wet sand (so the wind-driven bits of dry sand wouldn't be tormenting us) and talked for an hour, a lovely end to a post hurricane day.

On another note, as a postscript, I spoke to my parents in Goderich yesterday and they are managing well. They had an opportunity to get out to have a look at some of the areas that had been cordoned off previously. My mother wept as she explained how deeply they were affected and saddened by the ruin of their lovely, prosperous city, and the sorrow in the lives of people who have lost their homes, some of them their friends. She said the enormity of the devastation and the task ahead of the reconstruction teams sank in and laid them low. Then her voice lightened as she spoke of the good will that abounds still, despite the frustration of business people around the square who, up to that point, had not been allowed into their businesses to assess damage and begin the work of rebuilding their shops and enterprises. Then she told of a team of students from Toronto who had taken time off their summer jobs and come to Goderich where they arrived at my mother's friend's house and offered to help clean up her yard. They had chain saws and other equipment and spent the day chopping branches, piling debris, raking and picking up broken glass. Life is good.

Goderich: power restored to some areas & toad returns

2011-08-25T12:25:00.001-03:00

Last report for now. My folks are home, the power is running on Waterloo St. though still not up everywhere yet, and for those of you who know the story, my mother's friend, the toad who lived in her sneaker at Shelter Valley, showed up in her planter of hens and chicks this morning. Wonders never cease, as my grandmother used to say. Anne said, "Well I guess you could call him your toadem."

Finally, Hurricane Irene seems to be tracking west of us for now, which will likely mean we'll get rain and winds, but not feel the full brunt of the storm.

Goderich: the morning after the new warning

2011-08-25T07:43:00.001-03:00

My sister, Anne, picked up my parents and took them to her home in Brucefield last night while tornado warnings and alerts from the weather office spread throughout southern Ontario. The London Free Press noted that four possible touchdowns were reported but none confirmed. Goderich and area experienced high winds, very dark skies and no doubt a tremendous amount of worry last night. Heavy rains, lightning, and hail also fell in areas. My parents will return home today.

Some showers today then good weather predictions over the next few days should allow clean up work to continue in Goderich. Meanwhile, the Maritime provinces have been warned that Hurricane Irene might pose a threat. We'll just have to wait and see.

Tornado alert for the Goderich area today

2011-08-24T13:06:00.000-03:00

The weather office has posted this alert for the Goderich area. Let's hope really hard that it's cautionary and does not come to anything, though the expected thunderstorms will make matters onerous for those working so hard at the Goderich clean up.

From the Government of Canada National Weather Office:

Goderich - Bluewater - Southern Huron County
10:54 AM EDT Wednesday 24 August 2011
Tornado watch for
Goderich - Bluewater - Southern Huron County issued

Risk of severe thunderstorms and isolated tornadoes developing this afternoon.

This is an alert to the potential development of severe thunderstorms capable of producing tornadoes..Monitor weather conditions and listen for updated bulletins.

A line of thunderstorms is expected to develop over Michigan this afternoon then track rapidly eastward into Southern Ontario. Some of these storms are expected to be severe with large hail damaging winds torrential downpours and frequent lightning. These storms will also be capable of producing tornadoes.

The threat for severe weather is expected to reach areas near Lake Huron near mid afternoon and the remainder of the regions in the late afternoon or early evening.

Goderich tornado: the clean up, a personal account

2011-08-24T08:23:00.003-03:00

Here is another account from my sister, Anne, about what's happening in Goderich since the tornado. As Andy commented this morning, it's the best kind of front line journalism. Shelter Valley is a campground outside of Goderich along the Maitland River that Anne & Peter owned and ran for many years, and where my parents spent their last 36 spring, summer and falls, and my kids spent part of their summers, until they sold their trailer this spring.

Hello All,

Had a busy day. Up early to make a pot of chili for supper for Mom and Dad. I loaded the car with a solar lantern, butane indoor cook top we use when we are camping and all the coolers we own because today the fridge and freezers MUST be emptied. I stopped at Zehrs and picked up today's groceries for them. Milk, bread, 4 bags of ice and more batteries.

I got into Goderich with no problems but had a difficult time getting to Mom and Dads. The north west part of Goderich was one of the worst hit and the new road blocks today, set up to accommodate the massive clean up effort forced a few u turns. I eventually got there after driving around a bit. The town was a buzz of activity today. Gangs of men cutting downed trees, lines of hydro repair trucks and trailers full of wire, big loaders and lines of dump trucks scooping up tree limbs and debris from the street, skid steers piling up bricks and cinder blocks, shingles and twisted steel. The big boys and their toys ruled the streets today.

Waterloo street was a mass of activity. New power poles were erected today and wire was strung. By 4pm you could look down Waterloo Street and see the boulevards as the debris and fallen trees were cleared. It was very busy and very noisy. The whine of chain saws and big trucks drowned out the!!! I almost said birds but in fact there are no birds. Its strange but there have not been any birds in town since the tornado, nor any squirrels, or insects, or flies. I guess the tornado scooped them up as well. Oh I forgot, Mom and I did see one spider today.

We emptied the freezers today and I brought what was salvageable home till the power is back on. You have probably guessed by now that Mom and Dad did not return with me today. Tomorrow is church and they wanted to go to Wednesday mass. Tomorrow is another day but I expect their resolve will persist.

The town’s Emergency Management Team sent an army of teenagers out today with a printed fact sheet. It provided an update on Gas Service, Hydro Service, Drinking Water, Garbage Collection and Food Safety as many residents are still without power and that will continue for a few more days.

It was the first official notice that has been issued as most of the town and county web sites as well as hydro and gas websites and phone systems have been down. There is a promise in the last line that another update will be delivered on Thursday. Hopefully it will have some firm answers as this one had no real dates for reinstatement of services. One thing is for sure. There will be no garbage collection on Wednesday of this week.

Mom and I went for a short walk and watched big machines dredging the harbor near the grain elevators. There is a ton of debris from the salt mine in the inner harbor and they must clear an area for ocean tankers to enter the harbor to take on soya beans and corn. Combining corn, soya and white beans will begin in a few weeks and the harbor is the gateway for the salt mine and elevators, two of the largest employers in Goderich. A large number of the population of Goderich will be out of work for the next few weeks and after the restoration of hydro and gas service, rebuilding those areas of town that employ the residents are high on the list.

I left town at 4pm and it took 35 minutes to get out to Zehrs. The lines of dump trucks with debris were staggering and they got the right of way. We are watching the Blue Jays, a home game; we never miss a game but I don’t think I will see the ninth inning. I am tired. Will email tomorrow with Wednesdays news. At least we don’t have to put the garbage out.

Jackie, You know Jimmy Johnson from Shelter Valley, he was severely injured by the tornado at the main beach in Goderich on Sunday. The fish and chip wagon was picked up by the tornado and rolled over on him. He was air lifted to London and will have a long recovery. Many broken bones. You also know Ross and Joan Hallam from Shelter Valley, they live next door to the salt evaporator plant in Goderich which was leveled, they lost their home on Sunday. There are a hundred tragedies these are a few.

Talk to you tomorrow.

Annie

The London Free Press has an excellent and large photo gallery of tornado pictures:

http://www.lfpress.com/news/london/2011/08/21/18582706.html

Goderich tornado aftermath: a personal account

2011-08-23T07:42:00.003-03:00

My sister and brother-in-law, Anne and Peter, live in Brucefield just outside of Goderich and were not affected by the tornado. They have lived in the area a long time though and this is Anne's account of trying to get to my parent's apartment in Goderich yesterday, the day after the tornado.

Hello All,

Just home from a day in Goderich with Mom & Dad. They are doing fine and are more relaxed today. The situation all around them is very grim but they are determined to stay for one more day in spite of the lack of hydro. I get that! It is their home and no one else is jumping ship.

Getting into town this morning was an ordeal that took about an hour and required that we drive around a few road block barriers but we did not get caught. Once we got into the locked down area of town we were not challenged by the police and explained why we were there and they tried to give us the best route we may take to get to Waterloo Street. We got within two blocks before we could not go any further due to the debris fields on every street. I got out of the car to walk the rest of the way and Peter took off in the car to try and find a route that would let us get the car up to the apartment. There was no way Dad could have walked to the car over those two blocks. The debris was waist high in place. I bumped into Jim Farrish, Helen's son and it was a good thing as I was lost. I completely lost my bearings as there was nothing familiar. All the houses in that areas were destroyed and there were no street signs or markers you could use to know where you were. He carried the groceries and stuff I had that Mom needed and he got me there safely.

Peter found a way in and arrived about 15 minutes after me with the car. We spent the morning cleaning up their patio and the front and side yards of the apartment building. We piled all the limbs and debris on the boulevard and raked Dad’s yard and swept all the sidewalks. That one little patch of Waterloo Street was rather tidy by the time we left. Peter ventured out to the Tim Horton’s out by Zehrs (one of the few places where you could get prepared food) and bought sandwiches for us for lunch. Alex found his way to Mom and Dads and we had a visit. After lunch Mom and I went for a walk. All the pictures I have attached were taken within one and a half blocks of Mom and Dad’s apartment. (the two pictures in the post below this one are Anne's.)

I took them a radio with fresh batteries so they can listen to the news and will deliver more water and candles tomorrow. They have tentatively agreed to leave their apartment and come here tomorrow if the hydro will not be on by tomorrow night. We will see if they will follow through on that. At the very least I need to get their freezer emptied tomorrow. Zehrs has brought in a reefer and will store anyone’s frozen stuff as long as it arrives in a box with your name on it. I can’t think of anything else I can say. Everyone is helping each other. The sight of it all made me weep. It is had to imagine how long it will take to clean it all up and fix it. No matter what happens the town will never look the same again. Many of the heritage buildings that gave it that special look will need to be torn down and there will be wide open spaces where there once were majestic maples, oak and chestnut trees.

Here is a little story today from my mother: While my parents were sitting on their patio having a cup of barbecue coffee, a young man and his dog passed on the street pulling a wagon. He held up a thermos and asked if they wanted a hot refill and they gratefully accepted. He then brought out a container of wonderful brownies and sat with them and chatted while they ate and had coffee. Turns out he lives around the corner and he has a generator so is reasonably well off right now, so he makes coffee and treats and heads out with his wagon and his dog and walks the streets offering his goodies to those who might need them. He also gave them his address and said if they needed anything to stop by and he would do what he could.

Makes a distant daughter's heart happy to know good people are helping her parents and others.

Jack Layton and the Goderich tornado

2011-08-22T16:01:00.006-03:00

My elderly parents live in Goderich, Ontario, where much of the city was devastated by a tornado yesterday. My parents are fine, their apartment building narrowly missed by the tornado. They are cooking meals on their barbecue, making due without services as are so many in Goderich today. A big thanks to those who have called or stopped by to make sure they are OK, especially to Stewart, a new young friend of my dad's, who stopped by with his mother this morning, and to Pete and Lou who do a daily check-in. A heartfelt "so very sorry" to those who have lost homes and businesses, and to those injured and most especially to the family of the worker who died.

While checking online pictures, videos and news stories about Goderich early this morning, the death of Jack Layton appeared in the breaking news sections of papers. Though I can't say I was entirely surprised, I had hoped Jack would be in Parliament in September, there in opposition with his passion and commitment and optimism. Jack Layton was a class act to the very end. I will miss his personal and political energy and his deep love for Canada, and Canada will miss him. Jack's openness and ease made politics seem like a wonderful, worthy profession, a calling actually, one good for his soul, for his party and for the people he served, qualities not often noted in politics or politicians much these days, though I know there are many, many dedicated people working for their constituents. I hope Jack's joy and dedication has made some fine young people think not just I could do that, but I'd love to do that. And perhaps made some jaded, old pols renew their vows.

My condolences to his family, and to his colleagues.

The Globe had a PDF copy of Jack's letter to Canadians and I'm providing a link here:

http://beta.images.theglobeandmail.com/archive/01310/Jack_Layton_s_lett_1310744a.pdf

Garlic and golf

2011-08-20T09:39:00.002-03:00

The summer has been pretty grim, cold, not much sun, too much drizzle and fog, but the last few days have been glorious. The good weather didn't come soon enough for my garlic, which decided to stop growing last week and this week lay down for good, so I took advantage of the sun to harvest the whole patch, then yesterday took advantage of a pre-golf tournament weekend rest day for Andy to coerce him into helping me clean up the bulbs and set them out to dry (actually, I only asked for help when the black flies came on in force around 4 PM and started driving me crazy).

Today is Andy's first of two days golfing in the Highland Links club tournament in Ingonish, the scent of garlic lingering on his hands perhaps helping to ward off the evil of the hook, the draw, the fat shot, the slice.

The pictures: our garlic set out to dry after harvesting and before cleaning

Yukon Gold potatoes, Susanna Moodie style

2011-08-06T14:04:00.000-03:00

The land around our house is gravel mixed with clay and rocks, so to garden I have had to build upwards because digging down is not only torture, but fruitless (literally). My planting soil, starting with raised beds, is a mix of forest debris, household compost, garden waste, eel grass, seaweed, various scrounged manures and some soil dug from slightly more fertile areas and wheel-barrowed to my garden patches. That means I'm always looking for new ways to easily plant vegetables with less work and time spent on making a new bed. Last year we had spruce trees harvested from our land, most of them from a re-planted plantation that was overgrown and beginning to die (my glorious fairy forest). We also had several dying mature spruce removed from behind out house. The branches and needles lay on the ground through winter and this spring Andy burned various piles, and what he couldn't burn before spring burning season was over, he cleaned up into lovely piles. This May, when making a new potato bed -- I dug this one on a slope in the cut area behind the house -- I realized that there were nicely composting piles of small branches and spruce needles and I decided to experiment with a potato bed I call my "Susanna Moodie bed", for her book, Roughing It In the Bush.

I scraped the needles away from the earth and roughed it up a bit before laying Yukon Gold seed potato along the drill. I pulled a good layer of composting needles and woody branches over the potatoes and waited. Sprouts eventually came through the mulch and I treated the beds as I would a regular potato drill and hoed needle and wood mulch up around the plants. Yesterday we had friends in to supper and I pulled my first carrots, made a salad from our lettuce, tender kale, baby zucchini and onions, basil and dill and I dug some potatoes from my regular bed, lovely clean good-sized red potatoes. I decided to see if anything was growing in the spruce needle mulch and yes, dear reader, there were a plethora of wee yellow potatoes that, once cooked, were delicious!

Experiment successful, and I will plant potatoes in spruce needle mulch again next year. I do wonder though if the success was partly due to the amount of cool, damp weather we've had this summer, perhaps the only good thing to come of it because we North Shorers are pretty tired of the bad weather. A hot dry summer might not have been so kind to potatoes. But I'll let you know next year when I do hope we have a wonderful summer, warm and sunny beach and growing days with the exact right amount of rain falling only only after midnight and ending at 5 AM. Now is that unreasonable expect?

You can click on the photo to enlarge it.

Fate of a lobster: THIS FISH

2011-08-04T08:57:00.001-03:00

On Saturday, at the lobster supper for the Lieutenant Governor's Community Spirit Awards presentation, lobster with tags saying, "THIS FISH" were cooked and consumed. A friend brought home one of the tags from his lobster and by entering the tag code -- L278973 -- he was able to get some wonderful information about the lobster he had just eaten, and about the fishers who caught the lobster, and even better (or more -- sorry Merrill), a little information about the boat used and the area fished.

Here is a bit of information about the THIS FISH campaign and how you can use the site to find out exactly where your seafood comes from. I've taken this excerpt directly from the This Fish web site.

"Learn all about the seafood you eat, and connect to the fisherman who caught it, by tracing its journey from the ocean to your plate.

Fishing is an ancient pursuit, steeped in legend and lore the world over. Yet nowadays most of us are disconnected from our seafood. Thisfish, however, brings you closer to your seafood by tracing its journey back to its origins: who caught it, when, where and how.

Thisfish is committed to helping you make more informed choices about the authenticity, quality and sustainability of the seafood you eat, while promoting the folks who proudly stand behind their catch. We want to make the seafood business more transparent and reward those who responsibly harvest and handle your catch. We believe there shouldn’t be anything fishy about eating seafood."

So now to have some fun and see how it works start to finish, click on the web page below and enter the tag number I've given you.

http://thisfish.info/ L278973

And if you're feeling a bit lazy today, you can go directly to the information about lobster L278973 by clicking on the site below and visit with some of our friends -- Merrill, Amy, Donnie and other crew and helpers aboard the Briton Cove Bounty out of Little River Harbour. Be sure to click on the plus ( + ) signs beside the headings for extra information and pictures. And you can get even more information if you also click on "more". It's worth it, I promise.

http://thisfish.info/catch/?code=L278973&x=15&y=14

St. Ann's Bay & North Shore Community Spirit Award: the prep work & the presentation

2011-07-31T10:14:00.008-03:00

This weekend, Lieutenant Governor Mayann E. Francis came to our community to present us with a Community Spirit Award, one of four given to exceptional communities in Nova Scotia. Of course before the award presentation a lot of organizing work had to be done. Ruth Schneider, author of the award's application, was our contact with the Lieutenant Governor's office in coordinating the two-day visit that included visits with local artisans in their shops, a Gaelic presentation at the Gaelic Singers Hall, a lobster supper at the North Shore and District Fire Hall where the presentation took place, a church service at St. Andrew's, and a cultural event at North River Hall.

On Saturday morning I had the privilege of working with my friends Marion Thompson and Jitka Zgola in collecting from our gardens and then arranging flowers for the Fire Department lobster supper. Then I spent the afternoon with volunteer firefighters Nancy Smith, Lorraine Bona, Nancy's daughter Melanie and Don Tower preparing food for the meal. These woman & Don (and other active members) are central to every event that happens at our Fire Hall, and let me tell you it's an active department both in fire and emergency calls and fund-raising, so they work -- all volunteer -- hard and long. (They are pictured in the photos above.) By all reports the event was a brilliant success. The picture of the guy in the lobster hat with Her Honour, taken by our friend Nancy Paruch, is my brother-in-law, Alistair Watt, wearing a hat given him by his sister, Sheila. When asked why he had come to the supper as most people were representatives of one or other organization, Alistair said, I'm here to represent all crustaceans.

The pictures of Her Honour and Merrill MacInnis during the award presentation and of the presentation of the community photo gift book to Her Honour by Carol Kennedy & Lisa Finney were taken by local photographer and sunrise aficionado, Jim Steele, who accompanied the Lieutenant Governor on her community rounds.

This afternoon we're off to a cultural event, a presentation by Bev Brett's St. Ann's Bay Players of scenes from her original play, Out the Meadow, as well as some scenes from last year's production of Bedtime Stories. There will also be a dramatic reading of an epic poem commissioned by the Cabot Trail Writers Festival by area writer, Bill Conall.

For an overview of the award, here's what was said in a press release about our community award.

Lieutenant Governor’s Community Spirit Award

Featured Community:
St. Ann’s Bay/North Shore, Cape Breton

Date of Celebration:
Saturday, July 30, 6 p.m.
Lobster Supper
North Shore & District Fire Hall, Indian Brook

Along the magnificent Cabot Trail a community is thriving – literally by design.

St. Ann’s Bay/North Shore, Cape Breton Island, runs alongside the Cabot Trail with side roads from South Haven to the foot of Cape Smokey. The area is known for its beauty, its fast flowing rivers and is home to the highest waterfall in the Maritimes – North River Falls.

While the spellbinding surroundings are a reason you might visit, it’s the people, their passion and their purpose living there that could just lure you to stay. This community embodies all the Lieutenant Governor’s Community Spirit Award stands for and is the second of four communities to receive the award this year.

The community’s roots began with the Mi’kmaw people who were joined by Gaelic-speaking Scots in the 1800s, its livelihood built on lumber and fish, trapping and lobster. Today, a robust lobster fishery continues – joined by a community of widely recognized artists who create a vibrant economy from award-winning leather, writing, magazine publishing, fiddle-making, iron work, photography and theatre – which some say is ‘at the heart of the art of community collaboration’.

In addition to residents designing their own lives, this community has taken great pride in designing its future – a future built on a foundation of commitment. In 1992 a community survey asked, “Do you see yourself or your family living in this community 10 years from now? ” 82% said yes. Since then, the community has strategically focused on social development, health, education and security – knowing these all lead to economic prosperity.

St. Ann’s Bay/North Shore – “A community where people live by choice – not by circumstance.”

A New Horizon’s grant called “I have something to share” brings young and old together learn to build a 12’ Herscoff design tender. Now completed, the boat was raffled off to raise funds for the fire department.

Shirley poppy

2011-07-26T20:59:00.001-03:00

My gardener friend, Fenella Nicholson, gave me seed from her Shirley poppies and this year I had a bumper crop throughout my vegetable garden. This is a detail from a photo I took today, one of my first poppies with the blossoms fully open. The green pod tucked in the pink petals is entirely fabulous!

Click on the photo to enlarge it.

North Shore "homestead" from above

2011-07-25T14:24:00.001-03:00

Our neighbour, Chris Law, from out Goose Cove way, runs with his wife Annie a wonderful cross-country and telemark ski resort called Ski Tuonela:

http://www.skituonela.com/

Chris is also a sailor and a photographer and owns an ultralight plane that he very kindly flew over our property last week. Here are two shots of the "homestead" from above -- thanks Chris. You can click on the photos to enlarge them, and you can click on Tuonela's website above to see what skiing in Cape Breton can be like.

Mackenzie's apple trees

2011-07-18T18:46:00.003-03:00

In May, 2009, John and Mackenzie came to visit us and while they were here, Mackenzie helped me plant and stake three apple trees: a Nova Spy, a Spartan and a Paula Red. Mackenzie, John & Tanja will be coming to visit in September and those whips that we wondered could ever turn into apple trees, did just that. This year we had a few blossoms and despite the terrible weather, weeks and weeks of cold and rain, the bees made their magic and we have some wee apples growing. Any number of problems could make those apples fall before they are ready to be picked, but I'm going to be an optimist and hope some of those apples grow big enough so that Mackenzie can pick and eat them in September.

PS The apple tree is the dark thin whip you can see against my jeans and shirt, between the two posts in the first photo. It really is hard to believe a twig like that will eventually bear fruit, but seems it could be true. Mackenzie is holding the mallet, helping me hammer in the stakes.

The many uses of cabbage

2011-07-06T09:11:00.000-03:00

We are very chic here in Cape Breton, and very imaginative and daring. My friend Linda Wright, potter and photographer, has posted a wonderful photo on her Blip blog, a tribute to her royal roots perhaps, her sense of humour, and her very fine eye for a shot. A nod to her models -- thanks fellows.

Click on the link below and I promise you will smile.

http://www.blipfoto.com/view.php?id=1260051&month=7&year=2011

CFYT, Spirit of Dawson: Community radio fundraiser

2011-07-05T10:14:00.000-03:00

John's weekly Friday radio show, An Hour On the John, that we listen to online is broadcast on CFYT: Spirit of Dawson community radio station. They are beginning their yearly fundraiser and if you have some extra dollars to support them, he and we would really appreciate it. Below is a little bit about the radio station, and at the end of this blog is a paypal site where you can make a direct electronic donation if you feel like it.

John thanks you, we thank you, and CFYT thanks you!

About CFYT 106.9fm
CFYT 106.9 FM -The Spirit of Dawson
Box 689, Dawson City, YT, Y0B 1G0
Phone: 867-993-5152
Fax: 867-993-6834
Email: cfytradio@gmail.com

CFYT 106.9 is a community radio station operating in Dawson City, Yukon Territory, Canada.

We currently broadcast 4 days a week on Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays. Our programming schedule grows with the population of Dawson City during the summer season. We provide a widely varied range of programming representing Dawson’s unique population. In addition to regular programming, CFYT offers special broadcasts of community events, television broadcasts of locals events and festivals (such as the famous Dawson City Music Festival) and are currently working towards our remote broadcasting capabilities.

Our radio station is a non-profit community organization run by the Dawson City Community Radio Society, a volunteer board of 7 members, 30 + volunteer DJs, and countless other volunteers and supporters. We receive funding from the Yukon Territorial Government, Yukon Lotteries, The City of Dawson, and the Klondike Vistors Association to maintain our equipment and operations.

The cfyt.ca blog/website is an emergent way of increasing our visibility and listenership, as well as improving accessibility of CFYT radio schedules, contact information, and events. The site will allow DJs, volunteers, board members, and listeners to communicate and exchange ideas – contributions and feedback are encouraged. Email us at cfytradio@gmail.com and let us know what you think of our programming and ask any questions you might have about our volunteer-run community radio station.

Just click on the site below to donate online:

https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&hosted_button_id=EQUAB4RNB4WXS

Cape Breton Canada Day

2011-07-01T13:40:00.000-03:00

The sun is trying to shine through the fog and succeeding now and then, Andy's new mast is up (thanks Randy), and the poppies are finally blooming. Happy Canada Day!

The Fiddletree: Otis Tomas

2011-06-20T12:42:00.003-03:00

In a world where speed means everything -- drive-throughs, twitter and tweets, and highspeed everything, and time is money -- Otis Tomas, a friend and neighbour, violin maker, composer and musician, decided to embark on a project that ended up taking 16 years to complete. In his travels through the woods near his home on the Meadow Road, he found an ancient sugar maple and that's where Otis's story begins. He writes: "I am a violin maker, and so of course it wasn't long before my thoughts turned to possibilities held deep within this tree, and of the voices that might come forth were I to turn my hand to the transformation and domestication of this giant of the forest." And turn his hand he did.

On Saturday, Otis launched his book The Fiddletree, the beautifully arranged, photographed and narrated story of what happens when an artist has a dream that he then makes reality. We are given the back history of the maple tree, its cutting into sections that would allow the manufacture of various sized instruments, the long wait for the wood to cure, the manufacture of violins, a cello, a harp, guitars and a mandolin and the story of the musicians who bought the instruments. His chronicle is lyrical, loving, philosophical, personal, touching, technical and entertaining.

Next begins the story of calling together the musicians who owned the instruments to make and record music with their exquisite possessions, and the music they recorded were tunes that Otis had composed. The book includes a CD of original compositions played by the Fiddletree ensemble: Otis Tomas and Sarah McFadyen (from the island of Hoy in the Orkneys, Scotland) playing violins, Mairi Campbell (from Edinburgh, Scotland) on viola, Abby Newton (from New York via Colorado) playing cello, Laoise Kelly (County Mayo, Ireland) on harp, Paul MacDonald (Sydney, Cape Breton) on guitar and Claudine Langille playing mandolin. Special guests on the recording are Paul Cranford, Sarah Beck, David Papazian and Deanie Cox (Otis's wife), who with Otis and Paul MacDonald are the musicians in the group Rocky Shore, who play locally.

This a the kind of book you rarely encounter, a story of love: for home, for wood, for craftsmanship, for music and for family and friends. In an age where people strive to eat a hundred mile diet -- foods grown within their own geographic area -- this is real homegrown music, from tree to instrument to recording and listening, all of it is near perfection, and produced within less than hundred miles of Otis's (and my) home.

You can view Otis's web page at:

www.fiddletree.com

Along with viewing some lovely photos of Otis's instruments, you will find a link that tells you how to buy this gorgeous book with its unique and beautifully told story.

Baby moose: twins

2011-06-14T14:55:00.001-03:00

This isn't the best photo but it is what we have. If you click on the photo to make it bigger and you look really hard (or zoom in), you'll see an extra set of wee legs between the mother's legs. This cow has twins. The photo was taken this morning on our trail cam.

Camp fires

2011-06-01T14:28:00.000-03:00

I come from a family who like their camp fires. All members who can or are allowed to have fire pits at their homes or camps, or both, have them except me. While I was visiting my parents, their trailer in Shelter Valley, a camp park along the Maitland River between Clinton and Goderich where they have camped for the last 36 years (with several years of camping in Miller Lake near Georgian Bay, and several before that in parks around Sauble Beach) was sold. This will be the end of camp fires for them so I thought I had better hustle and get my campfire stove set up. I bought it two years ago after our granddaughter, Mackenzie, came for a visit. I wanted a campfire when she next came and she's coming with her parents in September for Daniel & Noelle's wedding, so I had two very good reasons to get the thing set up. Today, a grey and cold one, Andy & I decided we would dig up the turf, put down the sand Andy had scrounged from Leo Fownes (thanks Leo!), assemble the slightly rusted already stove and fire it up.

As you can see, dear reader, we did. Welcome to the campfire! If spring doesn't warm up soon, we'll need it.

Rhubarb: our first spring dessert from the garden

2011-05-26T19:43:00.001-03:00

Rhubarb tart

Crust

1 cup whole raw almonds chopped in blender (We like the nuts to be not too fine, but if you prefer them finely chopped go right ahead)
½ cup flour
¼ cup sugar
¼ cup butter (add a bit more if the dough is too dry)

Mix ingredients to form a dough, then press into a greased or parchment lined 8 inch square baking pan

Bake @ 350 for about 15 minutes checking occasionally to make sure the crust doesn’t burn

Cool while you prepare rhubarb filling

Filling

Place in a bowl:

3 - 4 cups chopped fresh rhubarb (We like lots of fruit)
1 cup brown sugar
3 – 4 eggs (I use an egg to fruit ratio, three cups of fruit, three eggs etc)
½ cup light sour cream
A bit of nutmeg and/or cinnamon if you like your fruit pies spiced

Mix all ingredients together until well blended then pour over the crust.

Bake @ 350 until the tart is set (knife or toothpick comes out clean). It will take anywhere from 45 minutes to 1 hour, but don’t worry if it takes a little longer.

Family: Schnarrs, Zettells, Cape Breton & Dawson City

2011-05-23T19:51:00.001-03:00

Some times you're blessed with a plethora of family time. I'm just back from Ontario where I went to a Schnarr family reunion (my mother's side of the family) and had visits with my siblings and my parents. My son, Daniel, picked me up at the airport in Halifax to bring me home (we missed you, Noelle), and Alistair's sons Duncan and Fergus were here to visit him for Victoria Day 2-4 weekend. We even had a nice long chat with John & Mackenzie in Dawson City (we missed you, Tanja), and learned that Mackenzie has become a water baby and is proud of it!

All in all a family smorgasbord!

Click on the pictures to enlarge them.

Explorer Watt discovers waterfall

2011-05-22T11:41:00.000-03:00

Daniel took Honey for a long walk yesterday, trekking up MacAskill Brook where he came upon this waterfall now named Watt Waterfall.

Happy belated birthday, John

2011-05-07T15:26:00.000-03:00

On his facebook site, my son, John, posted a picture of me in the very last days of my pregnancy with him. Not being a facebook user, I couldn't view the picture and though I was sure I would remember what I looked like, I was shocked when he sent me a copy of the photo. John was born on May 5th, 1978, three weeks overdue to the day. These days they would not let you go so far past your due date, but I was healthy, the baby's heartbeat strong, John was moving in utero, usually pushing my belly outwards even further than this picture shows and making my backbone feel as if it would crack. He weighed in at 10 pounds, 4 ounces and was 22 inches long. He had lots of brown hair and a big perfectly shaped head. (I remark on this because my oldest son, Daniel, was a somewhat pointy-headed forceps delivery baby.) His fingernails were so long we had to cut them right away, and there was a whole added section to the placenta that we joked had grown to feed such a large fetus. Remarkably, the birth was fairly easy, most of the labour spent riding the Clydsedale wagon at the Experimental Farm in Ottawa on a rather chilly day. I went into hospital in the early afternoon and John was born some time after 4 PM. No anesthetic, no tears, no rips, he just slipped out. I guess we all had to wait until he was damn good and ready to make his exit, and if there is one enduring trait it is exactly that: John does not do anything until he is absolutely ready to do it.

Should women believe Stephen Harper on reproductive choice: Judith Timson

2011-04-29T11:29:00.000-03:00

Judith Timson eloquently outlines the reasons why anyone concerned about a Harper government and the still very open issue of reproductive choice should think hard about where they place their vote. And there is still time to ask politicians bluntly where they stand on reproductive choice, and the funding of Planned Parenthood.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/relationships/news-and-views/judith-timson/why-should-women-believe-what-stephen-harper-says-about-abortion/article2002319/

Harper's cuts to organizations that serve women: Canadian women's favourite pick-up lines

2011-04-26T12:28:00.001-03:00

Here's a great take on Harper cuts to organizations that serve Canadian women.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KmthTKSWFWw

Election issues: Reproductive choice and Planned Parenthood support

2011-04-21T12:10:00.002-03:00

Maybe it's time to make sure that reproductive choice is an election issue in every riding. And maybe it's time to ask very directly and repeatedly for a clear answer on whether Planned Parenthood is, and will continue to be, supported by a Conservative Government.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/politics/behind-harpers-reluctance-to-revisit-abortion-issue/article1996398/

http://www.cbc.ca/news/politics/canadavotes2011/story/2011/04/20/cv-election-planned-parenthood.html

Harper hypnotism

2011-04-14T16:31:00.005-03:00

While watching the 2011 English language Federal Election debate, I had the sense that Mr. Harper was trying to hypnotize me -- all viewers for that matter. It was his voice, so flat and unmodulated, droning away, saying the same words and phrases over and over, his lips moving, but only just, his wide eyes staring at me, trying to hold my gaze. Those lips, that voice, the unending drone, the straight-ahead eyes had the effect of one of those old-time movie illusionists, the ones who used to chant, "watch the watch", who told us that we were getting sleepy, our eyes were getting heavy, and I expected at any moment to be clucking like a chicken or voting Conservative! I found myself getting up from the sofa and walking around to shake off the queasy feeling of leaving myself, of being sucked into the yawning void of "a majority", afraid I'd wake up and Canada would be led by a full-fledged Harper government, by Canada's Party, as I'm sure I heard Mr. Harper call his party at one point. If it hadn't been for Messrs Layton and Duceppe and their full-volume passion, and Mr. Ignatieff's occasional outburst of indignation, I might have fallen asleep, but then I might have dreamed about the wide-eyed stare and that terrifying, droning voice that made me wonder what he was hiding, made me ask myself, "What's he building in there?" (Thanks Tom Waits!)

Then on Tuesday, we tuned into the French language debate, sometimes listening in French because even with my mostly non-existent French I could pick up the pattern of the debate, partly from having heard most of it the day before, and partly because there was more than a hint of Ed Broadbent's wonderful French pronunciation (mine too, I confess), which leaves very little to the English -- or any other language -- imagination. When we switched to the translated debate, well, suddenly it was like watching tête à claques -- http://www.tetesaclaques.tv/oncle_tom_vid30_serie6 -- and there was Willy Waller trying to sell me a potato peeler! I know that with four men and four translators it was necessary to have very distinct voices, but the effect of the mix of accents, one very Scottish one, was to place me distinctly on the edge of giggling (sometimes giving in to the need) all night long.

My feeling today: I didn't get hypnotized no matter how effective some pundits thought Mr. Harper's performance. I wasn't convinced by Mr. Ignatieff to vote Liberal, though I was listening closely to him, so I'll wait for my local MP, Mr. Eyking, to come visit and tell me why I should. I was impressed by Mr. Layton's nothing-to-lose passion, his won't-back-down stance and his for-the-people policies. Mr. Duceppe clearly had his constituents in mind and though I'm always more than a little perplexed at having Separatists in Parliament, they have been elected and their leader does what he has been elected to do: work for Quebec's interests. I wondered how Elizabeth May would have adjusted to the format, forcing her to have quiet times, but also what she would have brought to the debate with her quick mind and her passion.

So half-way through this campaign I remain undecided, except for the fact that I won't vote for Mr. Harper.

By the way, there are some interesting web pages going up to get young people and women to vote. Here are a few worth checking out, and they will make you smile & maybe even cheer:

http://leadnow.ca/

http://shitharperdid.tumblr.com/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kn5RzQCx7So&feature=youtu.be

The Dagger Legend returned, part 2

2011-04-11T16:09:00.001-03:00

Check out Andy's blog to see our Dagger canoe returned home:

www.andyincapebreton.wordpress.com

Turning (and now turned) 60

2011-04-05T16:04:00.001-03:00

I don't much like the "nine" years and I can frankly say that 59 was not my favourite year. But favour aside, the "nine" years are for me retrospectives, assessment periods where I suss out what worked and what didn't, what changed that I had hoped to change, what didn't, an examination of happenings, accomplishments, how the body held up or gave out, what the kids were up to, and on through mostly -- until the moment of thinking -- an unthought out and meandering list of "what was" over the past decade. Of course I don't spend all of my time thinking back. Life is too full for that kind of inwardness; there was too much to actually do, too much enjoyment to be had, etc. But simply put, the "nine" years seem always to make me feel old.

Then along comes a big fat zero, this year 6 and 0, and just like that there is a clean slate, a whole decade to grow older into and it is thrilling and wonderful and no matter how old I get -- and believe me 60 is old -- zero years make me feel young, even with sciatica!

Here is one reason you can be sure 60 is old: I have had any number of friends and friendly liars come to tell me that I don't look 60. (I do look 60, really.) That they are amazed that I am so old (see they actually say it), but of course by being so amazed they reinforce the fact that they think 60 really is old, even if someone doesn't look it. I've been a daughter for 60 years, a sister for almost 59, a wife for most of 37, a mother for nearly 35, a grandmother for just about 4. My attachment to Cape Breton and my commune family of friends here is 40 years old this summer. I'm not ancient old, but I am now old, and happy to be so, for as many have said over the last while, it IS better than the alternative. At least it is for now, and I hope it stays that way for quite some time yet.

I offer here a thank you to all who have wished me well, sent cards and presents, lied, laughed, and stuck by me all this time. I love this ride we're on! Special thanks to Marion & John for hosting the party, and to Andy for helping them.

Above are a few photos of a wonderful Sunday afternoon gathering held in my honor. I wore my cowboy boots and I think you'll see more of them in this decade.

Red Dagger, our mountain top canoe

2011-04-01T16:01:00.003-03:00

I don't know how Andy did it, but two summers ago he convinced our son, Daniel, and his friend, Blake, to drag our 16 foot bright red Dagger canoe UP the mountain (some 800 feet or more) through quite grown over bush. Andy's intention was to take the canoe over the other side of our mountain where there is a lovely little lake and then he (we) could hike up and go for a paddle, then hike back down. Not only did Daniel and Blake haul the canoe, but the paddles and life jackets as well. The canoe made it most of the way up before the guys pooped out and had to come back down, done in by the climb (pretty much straight up at times), the rough terrain, bugs etc. Andy has not been able to convince anyone else to go up there to help him take the canoe the rest of the way up to the lake, though his friend, Roddy, did offer to help him bring it down this past summer, but I think golf got the better of them.

So today, while it was still sunny and the snow hard-packed enough to walk on (as opposed to sinking into), we hiked up the mountain to see if we could find the canoe in the snow, and if so, bring it home. I had a notion I could ride it at least part way down. Can you see it in your mind's eye, me, a red canoe, an 800 foot drop, dense bush at times? Are you laughing? But really, I wanted the easiest way to bring the canoe down and the hard snow would have allowed it to slide down nicely without too much work on our part.

We did find the canoe but it was pretty much covered with snow and in the end, after digging with sticks and poles and hands -- we didn't think to bring my collapsible shovel -- we came away wet and happy but without the canoe. Bad weather's coming our way so we'll have to put off the retrieval until footing is once again reasonable. Here are some pics of "the dig".

Snowdrops

2011-03-31T15:50:00.000-03:00

Our neighbour Jim Steele took this photo of snowdrops in the snow, so pretty and hopeful. We still have a foot or more of snow in places, though parts of the south facing fields are now clear. I heard a robin the other morning but so far no sightings. Ditto a Red-winged blackbird.

Almost spring hike

2011-03-16T15:43:00.001-03:00

We have a great hiking trail called Red Island Trail that starts just outside the door of St. Ann's Bay United Church where every Wed. during the winter we have a spectacular lunch after listening to a spectacular speaker. Today Otis Tomas, a local guitar and violin-fiddle maker and fiddler, showed us how he constructs violins. Afterward Andy and Honey and I walked the trail, which makes its way along an inland salt marsh to the ocean then wends its way through the woods near the banks of the Barrachois River and back to the church. It was wonderfully warm, the ocean and sky lovely blues and best of all we didn't need our snowshoes but were, for the most part, able to walk on top of the snow. In the pictures below, Andy is napping in the arms of a tree washed ashore during one of our many fierce fall storms, and I am caught in a sinkhole, though you can't see that because Honey arrived at that moment to proudly show us what she'd found in the woods: a leg shank that appears to have belonged to a deer (we think).

Click here to see some of Otis's work (you won't be disappointed): http://www.fiddletree.com/

And you can click on the pictures to enlarge them.

Sea ice

2011-03-11T17:39:00.002-04:00

We know spring is coming when the sea ice floats in, the late bits arriving red-tinged with PEI soil. Yesterday we noticed a white line along the horizon and within a few hours a thick line of sea ice slushed its way into the bay. Usually the ice brings seals and their pups, and this year is no different. Here are some photos Andy took while on a beach walk with Honey. You can click on them to get a better view.

Last year the sea ice didn't arrive and of course there was speculation why, global warming being one of the concerns. This year so far the ice is spare and thin, but perhaps there is more to come.

Below is the Canadian Government (notice I did not call it the Harper Government) weather site with a link to their sea ice map that shows our area. You can click on the map to enlarge it to more easily read the legend.

http://ice-glaces.ec.gc.ca/prods/WIS28SD/20110311180000_WIS28SD_0005685850.gif

International Women's Day, a few days late

2011-03-10T14:19:00.000-04:00

http://www.ted.com/talks/courtney_martin_reinventing_feminism.html

Click on the link above for a moving, insightful and intelligent and not too long talk by Courtney Martin on feminism. I dare you!

Les Nessman in Cape Breton

2011-03-07T14:46:00.002-04:00

Our wonder dog, Honey, has taken to joining us for meal preparation. Our kitchen & dining area are big enough for all of us normally, but when two people and a dog -- a large, long dog who stretches out on the rug near the sink, which is in the middle of the working area -- want to make supper, the area is more than crowded and the number of grunts and "Honey, move!" and swear words that arose during onion or carrot chopping made us realize we needed to train Honey to stay out of the main kitchen area during meal prep. That's where Les Nessman comes in.

Andy & I watched WKRP in Cincinnati from the first showed and loved all of the characters, but most particularly Johnny (who reminded me of my brother Jim), Herb and his wonderful suits, and Les. Les taped off his office space in an open concept work area and his co-workers had to knock before they could go in. Honey doesn't knock, but she is now aware of the tape on the floor, and is becoming more cautious about "entering" during meal prep time.

I've cribbed from Wikipedia for those of you who don't know who Les is.

Les is the ludicrously incompetent news director of WKRP and has been with the station since 1954. Knowing next to nothing about sports, he makes several glaring errors, for example mispronouncing golfer Chi Chi Rodriguez's name as "Chy Chy Rod-ri-gweeze" and calling a swimming event "breast stroking."

Les is a five-time winner of the fictitious Ohio radio news trophy, the "Buckeye Newshawk Award," the coveted "Silver Sow Award" (for excellence in farm news, particularly hog reports), and the "Copper Cob Award" (also for farm broadcasting). Sanders explained that the Silver Sow award was invented as a plot device to give Les a reason to ask Jennifer on a date. The award subsequently "tickled the fancy of hog producers across the country."

Les is featured in WKRP's most famous episode, "Turkeys Away", where he reports on a disastrous station promotion using many of the same phrases as Herbert Morrison describing the 1937 Hindenburg disaster. This scene from "Turkeys Away" is widely acknowledged to be one of the funniest moments in television history.

Les longs to "move up" to a higher-paying job as a TV newsman, and in one episode he shows a video tape to his station friends of himself reporting the news; unfortunately for Les, the tape is so cheaply and badly made, that Nessman runs out quite embarrassed. In another episode, Les shows Venus Flytrap how he has been dyeing his skin black — a parody of John Howard Griffin's Black Like Me. When Bailey Quarters is promoted as a reporter, Les is jealous enough to attempt to upstage her by plagiarizing an initial draft of one of her news stories, unaware that it is partially fictional and thus puts the station's broadcast license in jeopardy

Les works in the WKRP bullpen, a big room with desks for several of the employees. Les believes that as the news director, he should have his own private office, so he puts masking tape on the floor around his desk indicating where walls would be if he had his own office. He insists that anyone who approaches his desk must knock at an imaginary door and wait for permission to come in. He mimes opening and closing a door whenever he sits down at or leaves his desk; once he even took out a set of keys to lock the nonexistent door. All of his colleagues respect his insistence on maintaining his own private space, and play along with his "walls" charade. Mr. Carlson even "knocks" by clicking his heels together, although Jennifer was permitted to ignore the imaginary walls.

Andy has his own blog

2011-03-03T21:30:00.001-04:00

Check it out: http://andyincapebreton.wordpress.com/

R & R in Halifax

2011-02-26T10:48:00.005-04:00

Had a few days of R & R visiting Daniel & Noelle in Halifax. Did city stuff: cafes, restaurants, shopping, a loud bar night with the Watt, Pothier, McVicker & England members of the family, a speaker phone chat with Dawson family with a little girl singing us a beautiful song, and also some quiet times just sitting around and reading. Thank you Daniel & Noelle for hosting, and John & Tanja & Mackenzie for the whole family chat and Mackenzie's wonderful song.

Dennis Smith

2011-02-19T13:09:00.004-04:00

Our friend Dennis Smith died this week. He was diagnosed with cancer three years ago, given not much time to live and embraced every single second of it and surprised everyone by living three jam-packed, inspiring years, all of it shared with his wonderful wife, Nancy. To view the obituary above in larger format, click on it, and to enlarge, click again.

Thank you, Sarah!

2011-02-16T18:07:00.007-04:00

This afternoon I came home to a lovely surprise in my mailbox. I'll explain: On Saturday night our North Shore and District Volunteer Fire Department had it's fund raising Valentine's supper and part of the event was an auction to raise money for our Health Centre. Andy and I attended with my friends Sarah and Marion and their spouses Paul and John, and just about every time I bid on an item, Sarah or Marion or Paul (and even once Andy!) outbid me. One of the items I really wanted was a pair of what I call Newfoundland mittens, woolen ones knitted by my skating friend Mary Martin with lots of little woolly tails inside to insulate the fingers from the cold. Sarah (my Wildfire Pottery & Used Books friend) took me way past my desired top bid and she got the mittens. You've probably guessed what my surprise was: the pair of coveted mittens along with a pretty button Sarah made with her new button making machine.

Thank you Sarah! You're a sweetheart.

Moose, two this time

2011-02-14T07:48:00.002-04:00

Our little moose visitor brought a friend (or a mother) with him this time. They stayed even when Andy got very close with the camera and in the end we had to chase them away because they were headed for my wee apple trees whose tops are temptingly sticking out of the very deep snow.

Snow, snow and...

2011-02-13T10:50:00.004-04:00

... more snow. We had such a slow start to our winter, but once it decided to come, it came in all of its forms and excesses. Here is a picture of our snowshoeing path coming from the back woods toward the house with the ocean glittering through the trees.

Bits of Books on Friday

2011-02-11T19:59:00.009-04:00

Ah, winter, and here in my neighbourhood we're busy but always on the look out for something new to do. Combine this with having a space to fill since leaving my book group, I wondered if anyone would care to share ideas around bits of the books I was reading. The idea sat on a back burner until my friend, Sarah Beck, decided to open her pottery and used book shop, Wildfire, on Friday afternoons. Given permission to invite people to come and chat, I chose a few paragraphs from a Christmas present, Sailing Home: Using the Wisdom of Homer's Odyssey to Navigate Life's Perils and Pitfalls by Norman Fischer. In the book, Fischer states that Odysseus, like all of us, was compelled to leave home and find his way in life, and like Odysseus, after our many adventures, we must eventually find our way home. The section I chose to share was one in which Fischer explores the notion that anger is a "mask for fear." He says," We don't want to feel fear, which is disempowering and uncomfortable, so we get angry instead. But what are we afraid of?" He says that fear is fundamental and deep and anger is a powerful urge to harm.

And to my delight, a lovely group of people joined me for a cup of Sarah's delicious coffee, and we discussed and discussed and discussed. Today we met for the 5th time to look at several passages from The Man Who Loved Books Too Much: The True Story of a Thief, a Detective, and a World of Literary Obsession by Allison Hoover Bartlett. Bartlett has written a compelling real-life story of a book thief, the book collector turned detective who sets out to catch him, and while telling this story, fills the book with wonderful stories of book collectors and their passion for books. What we discussed came from a beautifully written section where Bartlett describes buying her first book, a mail-ordered copy of Charlotte's Web. She describes the book, its cover, how it felt in the hand and how the contents lifted her into another world that she was loathe to leave. Our discussion was of books as objects: all of the gorgeous sensual aspects of books and how we first came to both books and reading. We talked about comics, libraries, being read to, where we liked to read, how a new book is special in every way and much more.

In between session 1 and 5, we read and discussed poems about fathers by various poets, short stories by Raymond Carver and Tillie Olsen, and two poems by Wislava Syzborska. I have an idea for next week where we could look at mechanics in writing, and by that I mean making or unmaking things, like the bomb de-fuser in The English Patient, and the making of a Malvern pudding in Stone Diaries or the setting of wolf traps in The Crossing.

To learn more about Sarah's pottery & book shop, Wildfire, go to: www.wildfirepottery.ca

A bonus, one of the book lovers is also a knitter with an old-fashioned tube sock knitting machine and today I bought a brand new pair of red socks: merino wool, cashmere, and nylon. They are scrumptious! Thanks Rosie.

Perogis, Cape Breton style

2011-02-08T18:51:00.008-04:00

I meet once a month with a group of friends for what we call "networking" and we have had a variety of kinds of meetings: sushi making, how to organize groups, building home based businesses (sewing and making customized photo books), making raku pottery, writing a story for children, managing alone at home with children, along with meetings at which we just sat and talked and enjoyed each others company.

Today we learned -- hands-on -- how to make perogis, potato, onion and cheese for a main course and prune filled with sour cream and maple syrup sauce for dessert. We were gently guided by Marion Thompson and I should mention that we cooked the perogis on her wood-burning stove. When we were finished we had the delightful task of eating as many of our creations as we possibly could. And while we worked, another snow storm filled in all of our driveways and covered our cars and cleared paths one more time. But today no one cared, or at least we didn't.

Rock yoke

2011-01-31T15:32:00.005-04:00

Knock-knock...

Andy found these rocks on different parts of the beach on a walk last week and brought them home to me, a rock-of-all-kinds lover. He wasn't sure that they were mated, but it turns out that they are. What a marvel!

Inside looking out

2011-01-27T10:21:00.004-04:00

Andy just called to me, "I think it's going to be a slow day." We're snow bound, wind whipping wet snow onto the windows where it's sticking making lovely patterns for viewing the outdoors.

Curious visitor

2011-01-20T15:36:00.005-04:00

We haven't had moose near the house for a long time, well before Christmas, and in fact haven't even been seeing any sign, prints or scat. We worried that the warm weather and constant rain and terrible storms were affecting them, but today a healthy young moose came to visit and decided to come right to the house. We were relieved and delighted.

You can click on the photos to enlarge them.

Winter rituals

2011-01-18T15:53:00.007-04:00

Winter brings its seasonal rituals to my life. Making the fire first thing in the morning, then taking Honey for a snowshoe, usually before I make coffee, which is my favourite ritual of all!

These are not morning photos -- the light of course is different, but are from my afternoon snowshoe in this lovely deep soft snow we have that will disappear or at least change tomorrow when the temperature warms and we get some rain. I love approaching our house from the back with the wide vista of treetops and ocean.

The garden in winter

2011-01-17T16:28:00.005-04:00

First seventeen days

2011-01-17T16:12:00.006-04:00

We started the year with a shockingly wonderful warm day, plus 10 degrees, no snow of course and a lovely walk around the Red Island Trail where you'll see in the photo we still found lobster parts strewn from earlier storms.

We've had snow now, first a bit, then some melting, then a bit more and over the last two days a delicious dump with knee-deep drifts like fluffy meringue covering all the melted dirty old piles of snow.

Money for Nothing

2011-01-14T17:18:00.003-04:00

So, two ways to get past the silliness of banning Dire Straits' song, Money for Nothing. By the way, the Canadian Broadcasting Standards Council decision has all of the words in the song in the report, so how bad can it be.

1) Listen to An Hour On the John tonight (Friday) -- CFTY's community radio station -- from 7 PM - 9 PM Cape Breton time, 6 - 8 PM Ontario time. Just click on:

An Hour On the John

Once in the site, click on, "listen online"

Then click on the system you use to listen online and turn up the speakers.

2) If you are too worn out to protest yourself and too tired to complain about one more thing, listen to the Helsinki Complaints Choir and they will complain for you, rather melodically too.

Click here: Helsinki Complaints Choir

Irene Manuel

2011-01-10T21:48:00.006-04:00

Today I received a sad message regarding a very special woman, Irene Manuel from Fonthill, who died today. Irene sewed the covering for the wings of the Silver Dart replica that was flown here in Cape Breton on the 100th anniversary of its first flight. To read the post about Irene and to see pictures of her and her work, just click on the post heading above, or here: Irene Manuel.

Irene Adelina Manuel

Visitation:
2-4 & 7-9pm Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Fonthill Lioness Service 6:30 pm

Service Information:
Thursday, January 13, 2011 11:00am
North Pelham First Presbyterian Church
Donations to:
Fonthill Lioness
Pelham Cares

Passed away on Monday, January 10th, 2011at home with her loving family by her side after a courageous battle with cancer at the age of 66. Beloved wife of Bill and cherished mother of Connie & husband Rob Lywood of Beamsville and Abby & husband Mike Bolton of Port Elgin. Dearest grandmother of Sheena & Zak Bolton and Jamie & Breanne Lywood. Deeply missed by her step-daughters Joan Plant, Sheila King, Maureen Hartley, Julie Manuel and Brenda Graves.

Irene was very actively involved with the Fonthill Lioness, Pelham Cares as well as Saddle Up Niagara. Irene travelled great distances to be with her grandchildren and to be involved in their sports of hockey, horseback riding and horse shows. Irene was very passionate about sewing, gardening, her horses and above everything else spending time with her grandchildren. Her grandchildren have many fond memories of camping in tents, trailers and cottage time with Grandma. Irene leaves behind many family and friends who will miss her beyond words.

The family will receive friends on Wednesday, January 12th from 2-4 and 7-9 pm at the JAMES L. PEDLAR FUNERAL HOME, 1292 Pelham Street, Fonthill. A Fonthill Lioness memorial service will take place at 6:30 pm that evening. The funeral service to celebrate Irene's life will be conducted at North Pelham First Presbyterian Church, 602 Metler Road, Fenwick on Thursday, January 13th at 11am. Cremation will follow. A private family inurnment will take place at Pleasantview Memorial Gardens at a later date.

In lieu of flowers Irene's wishes were for donations to the Fonthill Lioness or Pelham Cares.

Online condolences may be forwarded through www.pedlarfuneralhome.ca

With friends: Christmas dinner 2010

2010-12-26T19:03:00.009-04:00

Click on photos to enlarge

Top: Mary Martin & John Roberts (standing), Phyllis Martin & Marion Thompson (sitting)

Centre: Watt men: Alistair, Duncan, Fergus & Andy

Bottom: Susan & Fergus & Danny Robinson in silly hats

NB: Mary's boiled milk white cake features in all photos

Merry Christmas!

2010-12-25T09:22:00.002-04:00

Click on the picture to enlarge.

Sea cucumber, the mystery solved

2010-12-22T17:19:00.003-04:00

http://www.fishaq.gov.nl.ca/research_development/fdp/sea_cumcumber.pdf

Click on the site above for a fascinating description of the sea cucumber, the mystery pink blob washed ashore in the storm today. If we'd known their importance we might have harvested them -- maybe. I didn't mind picking up the sculpin or the lobsters, but I did mind (so did Andy, you macho guys) handling the wee squishy pink mystery beast. Thanks to Melody & Donnie Dauphney for the information, and the Government of Newfoundland and Labrador for the interesting and informative publication on sea cucumbers.

Lobster and other marine life marooned by the storm

2010-12-22T16:14:00.009-04:00

Andy & Honey & I took a walk along the shore to see what damage the storm had done. As expected, the cliffs along the shore line were undermined from below by the enormous waves and high tides of the last few days and with the vast amounts of fast flowing water in rivers and brooks that have carved new pathways down to and into the ocean. What we weren't prepared for were the number of lobster -- enormous and very small -- smashed and/or stranded on the rocks, at least 50 in a 100 foot section. Some of them would have made a lovely supper but we ended up tossing any almost-alive creatures back into the water, the sheer number of the dead and near dead overwhelming our appetite. We also found, in that same area, a sculpin and a plethora of fat, pink, squishy blobs that we assume are some kind of sea slug, but so far have not been able to identify from web images. I've sent a picture of one to a marine biologist at Dalhousie hoping he will send us an ID,in which case I'll pass it on to you.

There have been power and phone outages, lots of flooding, and we are to have a repeat weather performance in the next couple of days. As I told one of my sisters in an email: During last week's hard rain, our septic overflowed. It's fixed and cleaned up, and now we’re ready for future shit (ha-ha), except that you’re never ready for the shit that happens, only the shit you THINK is going to happen.

On that note, keep your fingers crossed there will be no big surprises.

You can click on the photos to enlarge them.

An Hour On the John: support CFTY, Dawson's public radio sation and it's wonderful DJs

2010-12-17T19:07:00.004-04:00

Every Friday night, listen in to An Hour On the John, John Watt's eclectic radio show on CFYT, Dawson's public radio station. (Check website for holiday bradcasts)

Click on: www.cfyt.ca

When you get to the station site, click on: "listen live online"

Click on the right online media for your computer, turn up the sound and enjoy!

You can also click on the post header above to get started.

Our Christmas collage

2010-12-16T17:26:00.003-04:00

Merry Christmas to you all. Wishes for a healthy & happy 2011, with joys tumultuous and adventures gentle.

Susan & Andy

click on the photo to enlarge

Sydney harbour dredging: Cape Breton Post letter to the editor

2010-12-16T11:30:00.002-04:00

When the Prime Minister announced the federal support for the dredging of Sydney Harbour, I wasn’t sure if the queasy feeling in my stomach was the result of the brazen shamelessness of spending our money on a useless and doomed project, or whether it was perhaps a reaction to the annual onslaught of obscene, blasphemous holiday Christmas commercialism (or perhaps an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard…). The saddest thing about the affair is that none of our politicians is brave enough to say that the emperor has no clothes. Despite the apparent unanimity of local political support for the project, no one can possibly believe that the dredging project will turn Cape Breton’s economy around, or that it is a “game-changer”. If there were any sign of real backing for a new container terminal in Sydney, maybe it would mean something other than gamesmanship. But there isn’t any such sign, and there won’t be in our lifetime. So what does it mean when all seem to agree with something that is patent foolishness? It means that politicians are happy to lie to us, and to waste large sums of money that they do not believe will do any good. (Afghanistan, anyone?). And we aren’t surprised, and that is even sadder.

Andy watt
North Shore

Harbour dredging link:

Rain: postscript

2010-12-16T09:26:00.004-04:00

I mentioned there would be a long detour to get to the northern areas along the Cabot Trail because the bridge was out in Ingonish. Turns out there are bridges out in Inverness and Margaree and Cheticamp along the Trail, so northern Cape Breton is completely cut off today. In some areas there are no power and phone services and cell reception is spotty at best in rural Cape Breton, so a helicopter is on standby in case of an emergency.

The rain has finally stopped though the day is still very low and grey. Repairs have begun.

For more information, click on the words Cape Breton Post.

Venison, holiday lights and rain

2010-12-15T15:21:00.008-04:00

So what do you do when it rains and rains and rains? You eat, and when you feel like putting on rain boots, slickers, gloves and hats, you venture out with Honey and take a few pictures of our wee babbling brook, MacAskill Brook, which is now a roaring swirl of fast moving water. It's been raining for weeks but the last three days it's been pouring almost non-stop. The bridge in Ingonish has washed out which means that all traffic heading north along the Cabot Trail is being turned back to find it's way to Ingonish via Margaree and Cheticamp. That's one hell of a detour. We checked out the snarl in and around Sarnia, ON and realized that if our rain had been snow, that's what it would have looked like, or worse. Andy and I took a drive along our roads this afternoon to see North River, Barrachois River and Indian Brook all overflowing their banks and in some areas, crossing roads and undermining roadsides. Islands have disappeared and a huge stone and rock berm along the ocean has been breached leaving a new opening -- an alternative mouth -- for the Barrachois River to pass into the ocean. The rain will continue through today and tomorrow before it turns cold and we can expect some snow.

This weekend we decided it was time to have our first haunch of venison. I cut the remaining red cabbage in the garden (braised it with apples, raisins, wine and bacon) and pulled the last of the beets; along with roasted red potatoes, Andy's famous Bordelaise sauce (shallots, lemon, butter, red wine, meat drippings and parsley) and a few hot baguettes, a late harvest feast was served. I strung a few holiday lights to tart up the house, invited some friends, opened a few bottles of good wine (thanks Loretta & Jerry) and bingo-bongo we forgot the dark days and the rain for a time.

For an update on rain damage, click on the words: Cape Breton Post

Chickenpox

2010-12-02T17:55:00.003-04:00

Click on the photo to enlarge.

Snow and other things

2010-11-19T20:19:00.003-04:00

Had to happen and today was a good enough day. My friend Bill and I started skating in Baddeck today so a bit of snow in the air made it easier to go indoors to twirl around the rink.

On another note, John has a good show going tonight on public radio Dawson style, an hour late but no bother. Link in to An Hour On the John at;

www.cfyt.ca

Find "listen online" and click on it.

Find your system for audio and click on it.

And go to An Hour On the John on Facebook to get play lists and notes.

Enjoy!

Bright bits of a grey day

2010-11-17T16:09:00.007-04:00

It's a mild, damp November afternoon misty enough for the foghorn to be lowing a steady moan and at 4 PM it's already almost dark. To cheer ourselves up, Honey and I went out looking for some bright bits of nature to share with you. I suppose the large boll on the moose maple is not necessarily bright, but it is fascinating in an ugly symbiotic way.

Click on the pictures to enlarge them.

Fall: frost, fire, food

2010-11-02T12:50:00.007-03:00

Building an apple pie

2010-10-24T15:58:00.014-03:00

Terrible getting older and watching out for cholesterol and sugar. I have not been baking pies the way I used to, several for every fruit throughout the seasons. This year our wild apple trees had some, but not many, apples though enough so that very morning on our walks this Fall, Honey and I have eaten a fresh picked apple as we headed for home. This morning I picked one for Honey, then all the remaining apples from one of the more prolific trees for a pie. It seemed the right thing to do. Yesterday the leaves were at their most vivid, the magnificent glow-from-inside stage. Then this morning I noticed the trees were duller and many leaves had been blown from the trees, so with the falling leaves I was afraid the last of the apples would also fall and become food for foxes and slugs when I wanted to eat them.

Years ago I read a wonderful article where the writer was on a search for the best pie. One pie maker told him you don't bake a pie, you build a pie, and as a pie maker I understood that right away. So I'm posting pictures of the construction of my wild apple pie. Mind you it is only a partial construction because I forgot to take pictures of the pie crust as I assembled it. Another time...

I make a pie inspired by the sour cream and sugar topped German/Mennonite Kitchener Farmer's Market pies with a splash of Murdena Eldridge. The Murdena Eldrige part goes like this: In 1972 I worked at the Tartan Village Restaurant, a gem of an eatery along the St. Ann's Bay Loop of the Cabot Trail, owned and run by Murdena Eldridge. Murdena did all of the main cooking and she used whole and fresh and as much as she could, local ingredients -- a woman before her time. She made a melt-in-your-mouth four inch high tea biscuit that she served with soups, or homemade jam but most spectacularly, as the shortcake in fresh strawberry shortcake. She (and we) whipped massive amounts of cream for the shortcakes and stored the whipped cream in large jars in the fridge. Once a week there would be a jar that had soured, and I don't mean gone bad or moldy, I mean the whipped cream turned to thick-as-you-please sour cream that was beyond delicious but had to be thrown out until it dawned on me, who was weaned onto cream and sour cream after leaving my mother's breast, that I could make my mother's famous cole slaw and iceberg lettuce and onion salad dressings with that soured cream, and I could use it for coffee cake recipes, in quick breads, in pancakes and I could use it to make a pie topping to die for (and from). And that's what I did, and though I miss Murdena's soured cream, that's what I continue to do. My apple pie is topped with a mixture of sour cream, brown sugar and cinnamon and a wee bit of flour to help it all thicken. When baked it forms a glistening, sweet-tangy topping that cooks down into the apples as well.

OK, so now that I've made myself hungry, I'm going to make a cup of tea and have a slice of wild apple pie, supper be damned!

10/10/10: an engagement

2010-10-10T15:28:00.004-03:00

Daniel & Noelle became engaged today at Little River beach in Cape Breton. We are thrilled. A fall 2011 wedding perhaps.

First frost, first fire

2010-09-27T20:38:00.004-03:00

Woke early to frost so a good day to make our first fire. The day turned warm, the sun a delight. And hey you Dawsonites -- no laughing! I know you have snow already.

click on photos to enlarge

Grapes: a mystery

2010-09-23T11:46:00.005-03:00

I've had grapes every year for four years now and every year on the morning after the day I decide, tomorrow is picking day, I discover the grapes have all disappeared when I go out to pick them. ALL of them. I believe the crows and blue jays know when the grapes reach perfection and rise before I do, and then they quietly feast, the only time crows and more particularly noisy blue jays are quiet in the morning.

But that's not the end of the story. Once again our dog, Honey, has shown herself a talented forager. Peas off the vines in early summer, strawberries shared with crows and blue jays, raspberries (she had a huge allergic reaction to the thorns on the canes, eyes swollen shut, lips drooping), blueberries, blackberries, rose hips, wild apples. This week she ate all of my perfectly ripe, saved for this Friday night's clothing exchange party, yes ALL of my bright and bursting baby tomatoes. So I suspect she might have also had a hand in past grape disappearances, despite the fact that grapes are said to be lethal to dogs. Clearly not our dog. This year I'm keeping my eye on the grapes and I've been rising early to work so I hope to pick the grapes before the various thieves get them, but I'm not entirely confident. Today the grapes are still pretty hard, but I promise to report back on the day before picking day....

Hurricane Igor Sunset Surprise

2010-09-21T12:53:00.006-03:00

Hurricane Igor passed by last night and to introduce itself to our shore it brought a beautiful sunset. These are exactly the kinds of photos I shouldn't post because they don't do justice to the reality, which was glorious in its own right, then included a rainbow that seemed to hold the blue sky at bay while gathering pinks under its umbrella and finally, just in case we thought it wasn't pretty enough, doubled itself on its southern edge.