Posted on May 11, 2015 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

A face only a mother could love!

 

 

We all know that there’s plenty of bad news swirling around all the time. If you watch television, listen to the radio or read a newspaper, there is no shortage of heart break, misery and skullduggery. It can get you down and leave you feeling jaded, disheartened and cynical.

And then you witness something joyous , and your faith in humanity is restored.

I was honored to be the emcee at a fundraiser for Sadie Anderson this past weekend. Sadie is a 4 year old girl who is battling cancer and the community came together at Pipers Pub to give the family a financial and emotional lift. There was music, clowning, face painting and a silent auction… and large doses of love. There was no doubt that Sadie was the star. She came up on stage and sang a few songs ( Let it Go” from “Frozen” ) and , at the end of the evening told the large crowd that she loved them. And those who came,  dug deep and raised over $10,000 for the Andersons. This is why small towns rock.

I auctioned off my face. For $10.00 people could request something be painted on my face. You’ll have to look closely. My mother in law asked for a devil. In rapid fire succession ( I’m not making this up ), the requests were for the Montreal Canadiens logo and one of a horse’s arse. I’ll just let that one hang in the air for a minute! Had we were run out of room, all I had to do was take my hat off to reveal another canvas. One bold person suggested a face painting on another part of my body for $100 but I didn’t think the face painter would have stooped for that one.

It is obvious that you liked the story about Michael Campbell. Even though most of you don’t know him ( neither did I until I met him a few weeks ago ), you were captivated by his life story. If you didn`t get a chance to read the story, it is archived on my website.

We were up at our old house on the weekend continuing the “big purge.”  We only have a few weeks left before we hand over the keys . We came upon an old autographed picture of Bobby Hull, aka, “The Golden Jet.” People my age remember him streaking down the left wing and unloading his famous slapshot.  He had one of the first curved sticks ( I’m dating myself! ) and I think this coincided with goalies ( Jacques Plante being one of the pioneers ), starting  to use  face masks. Bobby Hull attended the “Father and Son” banquet at the Parish centre in 1960. This was quite a coup for Antigonish and those in the know tell me that Dr.Cecil Maclean was instrumental in getting top level hockey players like Hull and Belliveau to come to our town. I offered to give the picture away on Facebook and within minutes, it had a new home.

I am embarrassed to say this but I have never read the “Anne of Green Gables” series of books. This is at the top of my list when I retire in a few week’s time. My editor has also suggested that I read “The Chronicles of Narnia.” Once I’ve digested all of those, I may just curl up and tackle “War and Peace.” Seriously, how many of you have taken the time to read all 1456 pages ( 560,000 words ) ? The average length of my stories is 500 words so I would have to write 1000 stories to equal the word count of W@P.

Coming up on Wednesday, is the story of the capture of a mother raccoon and her babies from the roof of a porch…our porch! I had to bring in the big guns ( the Landry brothers of “Beaver Brothers” fame ) and during the rescue, our good friend ( and carpenter ) Carl Laudadio showed up to provide invaluable assistance. “True Professionals” is an apt title for this story. I think this is one that you will enjoy. If you want a sneak preview, check out this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1K0iS97P6U8 ( Not much happens in the first 20 seconds so be patient ).

Have a great weekend and count your blessings.

Posted on May 9, 2015 under Storytelling with 2 comments

Stickhandling through life

 

 

Most people greet spring with a mixture of hope and anticipation.  The layers of winter are gradually peeled back, revealing the first crocuses and snowdrops.   A hint of warmth in the sun brings smiles to people’s faces.  Fishermen can’t wait to drop their lines in a river or lake for the first time in the new season.  Small children make their way to their favorite playgrounds.  Birds sing and the peepers peep.

For Mike Campbell, spring is a necessary evil.  You see, Mike is an avid hockey player in the winter and he loves to mow grass … cemetery grass in particular … in the summer.  When there is no hockey and no grass to mow, Mike is restless.  He doesn’t like to be idle.

Mike plays hockey three times a week during the winter.  And once the dandelions poke their heads out, Mike can be seen with his trusty push mower, trimming the grass at the cemeteries for the parishes of St. Alphonsus and St. Joseph, a task he has been doing for thirty some years.  I asked him why he took up this volunteer work.  “I was told to.”  Enough said.

Oh.  Did I mention that Mike is just a few months shy of 90?

I’m sitting at his kitchen table (where else but in Cape Breton!) alongside his wife and best friend, Marilyn.  It takes all of two minutes before we make an Antigonish connection … the MacKinnon clan.  We’re off and running and two hours later I’m on my way back to the Mainland with a frozen apple pie and a bag of cinnamon rolls.  Marilyn assures me that they will be thawed by the time I get home.  I assure her that they may not make it across the Causeway intact; frozen or not.

Mike remembers the “Grand Banks Earthquake” of 1929 as if it were yesterday.  It appears that Mike can recall just about everything in his long, healthy, active life.  I am surprised that he couldn’t tell me the exact time of day the quake hit.  (It was 5:02 P.M.  Newfoundland time).  He was a child of four at home with his mother.   The plaster walls of the house remained cracked for many years afterwards.

He knows a lot about the dynamics of large families.  He came from a family of 16 and he and his first wife had 11 children of their own.  He and Marilyn became a team several years after their first spouses passed away.

A number of his brothers fought in WW11.  One operated a Spitfire and escaped a serious strafing only to die many years later while jogging.  Another brother was an officer on the minesweeper HMCS Bayfield.  He died years later while skating close to home.  Mike wasn`t making light of these tragedies; but rather, the quirkiness of life.

He grew up on a farm in Low Point.  He and his siblings discovered the meaning of hard work and self-sufficiency at a very early age.  It wasn`t always easy; it was just the way it was.  He said that if he ever met a cow on Charlotte Street, he wouldn`t speak to it, so fed up was he with chores by the time he left home.

He spoke glowingly about his father who was quite the wordsmith.  “When Dad spoke, every word counted.”  Most of us could take a lesson on that front.

Besides his legendary physical fitness regime, Mike is an avid reader and possesses a keen wit.  Several times during the conversation he hit me with one-liners that would make Leno or Letterman proud.  We talked history, politics, religion and sports.  I was a bit leery going down the history path.  I had considered tucking a claymore under my coat on my way to Mike’s house, for fear of the ghosts of Glencoe interrupting our conversation.  The Campbells and MacDonalds didn’t always get along nearly as well as we did on this beautiful Cape Breton morning.

Much of the conversation was about sports.  Mike still plays between 75-80 games of hockey a year.  I downplayed the fact that I am a life-long Habs fan when I heard of his passion for the Leafs.  He seems fit enough that the Leafs might want to call him up.  Mike hopes to once again see Toronto hoist the cup.  I remarked that his longevity might be sorely tested.  He chuckled and told me, “It’s pretty bad when even the mascot wants to get traded.”

Mike spent many years underground.  We talked about coal at some length.  His father was in New Waterford on June 11, 1925, when William Davis was shot and killed during a mining strike.  He still watches the boats bring imported coal to the Lingan power station.  He doesn’t think that coal will be king anytime soon since much of the rail infrastructure has been torn up.

Among Mike’s other passions is baseball, a game he played until he was nearly 70.  And he has an amazing collection of scrapbooks.  He meticulously records everything, including obituaries.  I am hoping that I don’t make it into that particular album any time soon.

He never smoked or drank but he has his vices like the rest of us.  He can’t resist Marilyn’s baking.

Diet, physical activity, mental exercise and a healthy dose of humour have served Mike very well during his time on this planet.  He plans to stay vigorous and engaged for as long as he is able.

The apostle, Paul, notes that those who waste their time in idleness or in a non-productive manner are easily led into sin.  I saw no signs of the devil lurking near Daley Road.  I asked him about this and he said, “All you do when you’re sitting around with nothing to do is find fault.  You don’t even like the way the crows fly.”

“Lang may yer lum reek, Mike.  And keep your head up crossing the blue line.  There’s only one thing tougher than a Campbell and that’s a MacDonald with a long memory.

Posted on May 7, 2015 under Thursday Tidbits with no comments yet

Some beautiful art at the home of Jyotsna and her husband

 

 

You can see the joy on people’s faces as we have been enjoying several sunny days in a row. It was a real blessing to have spectacular weather for the convocation at St.F.X  last weekend. The town looked great and there were a lot of proud parents and grandparents wandering the Main.

The day after graduation is always a spectacle as many ( most ) grads pack up for the last time. Some of them will never return while others will become fanatical alumni, which is important for the continued survival of any university. As some of you know, we recently moved downtown to an apartment. Court Street used to be a prime residential area of single family dwellings. It still is but most of the homes have become rentals for university students.

Most of us have had the pleasure (!) of helping our children move…sometimes across town and occasionally across the country. It can be mildly disheartening work especially the final cleanup. Court Street was awash with moving vans, mini vans, trucks and cars . In a few cases , it was obvious that the grandparents were doing the move. And just like that, the town fell silent.

Have you ever had a mother raccoon take up residence in the roof of your porch? Have you ever been struck by lightning? Have any of you had either of these things happen to you twice? Yeah, yeah I know the line about lightning striking the same place twice. I’ve never heard the expression “ raccoons never strike the same place twice.”

Wrong.

I had to bring in “The Beaver Brothers” the other day to extricate a raccoon from our porch roof.  The same thing happened four years ago. Raccoon sightings are increasingly common. The Landry’s say that their trapping services have increased exponentially since the town instituted the green bins for compost several years ago. While we weren’t terribly amused with the reoccurrence, we took it in stride and I thought, “ what the hell,” I’ll write a story about it as there were some amusing twists and turns. Stay tuned for “Raccoon Rescue” coming soon.

I’m not sure if it was Saltscapes or the fact that people have come out of hibernation after a dreadfully hard winter, but my readership has suddenly exploded. Thanks to all of you who take the time to read my stories and rants.

My editor was busy bright and early yesterday ( the morning after the end of tax season ), editing the story about Michael Campbell. In case you missed this week’s Monday Morning Musings ( shame on you! ), I was talking about a meeting I had last week in New Victoria, Cape Breton. I met this amazing man, Michael Campbell. He has led a long, active and healthy life. He still plays hockey three times a week ( 75-80 games a year ) and he is just shy of 90 years old. Look for his story next week. It is called “The Life and Times of Michael Campbell.”

Just a reminder about the fundraiser this coming  Saturday at Piper’s Pub for Sadie Anderson. Sadie is 4 years old who is battling cancer. It runs from 4-8 p.m. with lots of great live music, auction, face painting and more.

Have a great weekend.