For years, my children and I flew Broom Express, I mean Air Canada to Nova Scotia just as soon as the school year ended. My husband,Glenn, worked at General Electric Canada and would join us for his holidays in July and August. I counted down the days until his arrival. Ever the optimist, I slept, listening with one ear, in case he should arrive earlier than planned. This pattern repeated itself for years.
I saved my all-time favourite for last. Dad used them like a weather vane and anemometer to tell the wind direction and speed as they blew back and forth across the field. During a telephone conversation Dad would comment nonchalantly, “I see the wind has changed. The buckets are blowing in the opposite direction.”
Mom and I sat on large concrete blocks outside the store but super close to the road. Blockhouse is a small community where everybody knows everybody. People driving past gave us some pretty weird looks. I have a feeling that when they got home they told their families that they had seen the strangest sight at the intersection. You’re never safe from surprises until your dead. They saw two hookers in Blockhouse in broad daylight.
Dad died in 2013 and I was determined to “clean up Dad’s clutter.” I filled dumpsters and my brother’s pickup truck with what I deemed junk. Dad’s blue twenty-gallon barrels and white five-gallon pails made up a large chunk of the junk. Then we demolished the barn and got rid of any that may have been hidden in it. I felt unspeakable freedom as the junk went out the driveway.
As that great philosopher, Jed Clampett, used to say, “Hot diggity dog!”
The school was abuzz with excitement. Everybody was talking about it. Drivers’ Ed. was coming to Lockeport Regional High School! I enrolled immediately, certain it would be a breeze. After all, how hard could it be to drive a car? What’s the worst thing that could happen? You should never ask that question because as my Uncle Herm used to say, The Big Ear is always listening. I would find out soon enough just how hard it was.
Not everyone feels warm and fuzzy about Shakespeare. He has been the cause of years of tears and failing grades. In contrast, his aficionados eat, live and breathe his works. They develop hunched backs from lifetimes spent in library carrels pouring over his musty writings.
Long before I was born, one of Mom’s cousins gave birth to a baby girl and named her Melda Madeline. However, the family chose to call her by her second name — Madeline. Mom always wished they had called her Melda. From that time forward, she decided that if she ever had a baby girl, she would name her Melda.
Every teen wants a car. I was no different. I begged my parents, unsuccessfully I might add, to buy me teeny weeny car. A sleek Chevy Camaro, a noisy Pontiac Trans Am, a streamlined Pontiac Firebird or a sporty Ford Mustang would have made me very happy. However, most teens that I knew were driving Dodge Darts, AMC Gremlins, Dodge Furys, Chevy Novas and Ford Pintos. There was nothing glamorous about this collection, but a car of any description meant…
New Year’s Resolutions — I think everybody has them even if they don’t admit it. Many of them involve diets and gym memberships. After much careful thought, I have compiled a list of goals I would really like to achieve in 2016. I believe most of them are doable with little or no deprivation. Have a read and copy any of them that appeal to you. Enjoy!
“Mr. Roache,” he began, “I totally believe your story, but if I submit your claim with this explanation, the company will think I have lost my marbles and put me out to pasture. I will be the laughing stock of the entire company. We will have to come up with a different scenario.”