Posted on September 1, 2014 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

On our weekend hike at Cape George, Betty told me to go to …L.  Here’s proof that I went to L and back!

 

 

Long weekends are such a blessing, especially when the weather cooperates. Saturday and Sunday were simply perfect. We took the opportunity Sunday to go for a long hike out on the trails at Cape George. We probably bit off a bit more than we could chew and at the hour and a half mark, bailed and came down the Marsh Road. When we got to Albie’s, I seriously thought about buying a car. The old legs had had just about enough.

We spent a lovely evening with our old neighbors in Cloverville and shared some funny stories form when we lived in the neighborhood.

I also had time to write a new story this weekend.  Actually, I think this one will turn into a trilogy. Shane and I were driving to Middle Musquodobit last Friday to attend a wake, when we passed a rather large sawmill. I saw this enormous pile of sawdust and just like that, I was transported back to Victoria, B.C. 41 years ago ( not to be mistaken with 41 B.C. I’m not that old! ) when I worked in a massive sawmill for six months after graduating from X. If you can imagine a softie university student going to work in the rough and tumble environment of a sawmill. My first job was on the “green chain.” If you don’t know what that is, look it up, or better still just wait a few days and read my story. It’s called “Milling Around.”

Every once in a while , I write a story that I really like. It’s like a musician having a favorite tune that he or she plays. This story has already been published in the Cape Breton Star. It’s odd sometimes seeing your work in print. It often looks quite different than the copy that I pound out on the computer keyboard.

Coming up on Wednesday, is my account of my solo trip around the Cabot Trail. There’s something about this story that makes me want to be a travel writer. While I have done “the trail” dozens of times, doing it alone is a very different experience. I hope you will enjoy “Happy Trails” and that you will share it with people from here who live in other parts of the world.

Later in the week, I will publish the story “They Call Me Yellow Jell-o.” Every word of this story is true and I have waited 37 years to write it… to protect a lot of people!

Here’s hoping you have a great week and welcome to September.

 

Posted on August 30, 2014 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Fare or Fowl?

 

 

It was a simple enough question.

During a recent purge and cleaning of the fridge, my wife asked me about some chicken nestled on the back shelf.  As far as we could determine, it was well over seven days old, and, while not harmful to one’s health, its “curb appeal” was wanting.  We try our hardest not to waste a morsel of food, but every now and then, something past its prime gets lobbed into the composter.  I’ve ended up in there once or twice myself.

Is it just me, or are we turning into a nation of poultry purists?  Once upon a time you had a chicken dinner for a real treat, but nowadays the proliferation of poulet, in all its forms, is something akin to the Tim Horton’s phenomenon.  There seems to be chicken everywhere.

Chicken nuggets, chicken a la king, deep fried chicken, chicken stew, roast chicken potato chips, chicken wraps, stir-fried chicken, chicken balls …

I will never forget my first trip to the Chicken Burger Restaurant on the Bedford Highway.  Everything about the place was just perfect, from the 1950’s décor to the juke boxes.  But the big attraction was the chicken burgers themselves, washed down with their matchless chocolate milkshakes.  These days you can have a meal there before flying the friendly skies, as they have an outlet at the Halifax airport.  Same food and friendly staff but no fresh-air order counters … yet.

Chicken gumbo, rotisserie chicken, chicken Kiev, chicken cordon bleu…

The Colonel brought his famous brand of chicken with “eleven different herbs and spices” into our neck of the woods in the 1960`s.  We woke up one day not long ago in our home town to find that the local KFC outlet was reduced to rubble (they closed it and sent the employees home first).  It was if the Colonel had just kicked the bucket and left town.  It caused quite a flap.

Chicken Cacciatorre, Tuscan chicken, chicken fingers and taters…

If you have your head down for even a nanosecond, you might miss the A& K Lick a Chick in Little Bras d’Or.  It is reputed to have the world’s finest deep fried chicken.  You might not want to stop there the night before bloodwork for your cholesterol readings.  Right across the street there is a Tim Horton’s which, in and of itself, is not surprising.  However, this is a very famous Timmie’s, for years ago it became famous for a time when the face of the Blessed Virgin appeared on an exterior wall of the building.

Chicken has become so highly regarded as a food staple that it has developed its own brand in Quebec.  St. Hubert’s Chicken is as much a staple in the Quebecois diet as poutine.  In case you’re wondering, St. Hubert is the patron saint of hunters, mathematicians, opticians and metal workers.  It almost seems like one of the Popes ran out of ideas for patron saints and gave St. Hubert all the leftovers.

My wife is forever espousing the merits of a balanced diet.  I am suspicious that my diet might not be quite there yet.  I have noticed that small feathers are appearing on my arms and that I am prone to making audible clucking sounds when asked to do chores.  Unfortunately, I am not allowed to “chicken out”.

 

 

 

Posted on August 28, 2014 under Thursday Tidbits with one comment

They call me mellow Jell-O

 

 

When was the last time that you had a bowl of jell-o? I’m certain that it’s over fifty years for me. I’m not talking about jell-o in a salad. No. A bowl full of the giggly stuff, pure and unadulterated. The last time I saw yellow jell-o was 37 years ago when I was living in Alberta. And why, you ask, is this such a big deal? Because the jell-o was completely covering the floor of a log cabin that I was renting during my teaching days in the late ‘70’s. Enough time has passed and many of the principals in the story have passed away so I felt it time to finally write this story. This story is 100% true. It’s called “ They Call Me Yellow Jell-o.” Apologies to Donovan who did a song with a similar title. ( earworm material… if you start humming it right now, I guarantee that you’ll hear it again in your head several times today! )

Coming up this weekend, I will be publishing my story about the proliferation of chicken. It seems that chicken has taken over from beef, pork and fish as the number one meal choice. Have you ever stopped to think how many different ways we prepare chicken these days? I will, of course, pay tribute to “The Colonel” and will also mention those iconic eateries, the A@K Lick a Chick in Little Bras D’or and the original “Chickenburger” on the Bedford Highway. The story is called “ Chickened Out” and will appear here on Saturday.

One of the great things about my new life as a writer is that I have more opportunities to chat with people. I met a lovely lady at Sobeys the other evening. B.G. admitted to reading my book… and liking it. I informed her that volume 2 will be coming out at the end of October. We stood in the aisle and just talked about story telling. She wondered how I kept coming up with story ideas. I told her that I finally took Betty’s advice ( after 32 years! ) and have become a better listener. Everybody has a story …or a hundred so I’m sure I’ll never run out of material.

Next week I will be publishing the story that I did about my solo trip around the Cabot Trail. I realize that it is difficult if not impossible for most people to take a day and wander off on their own. It sounds rather selfish but if you want a chance to get in touch with your thoughts, spend a day without the radio, a cell phone or an ipad.

An old schoolmate of mine died very suddenly this week. Life is so incredibly fragile and fickle… and fleeting. I once again mention my gratitude jar. You might discover that your “happiness quotient” will rise if you express your gratitude on a daily basis.  Don’t take anything for granted and try to appreciate the simple things in life like a hot shower or a walk with a friend.

Have a great long weekend.

One more earworm … “ See You, In September” ( The Happenings – 1966 )