Posted on August 5, 2019 under Monday Morning Musings with 5 comments

A walk on the wild side… 60 years later

 

On my long weekend walk on Saturday, I was making my way along a country road when I heard a very familiar sound from my childhood. The only time I hear this sound is when it is hot and on this day the temperature was nearing 27. I am not an entomologist so I have no idea if my hypothesis is correct but that classic cricket sound on a hot day, might it be the Dog Day Cicada? When you hear that sound you know it is a very warm day.

As happens so very often on my long walks, I daydream and as I get closer to 70, my thoughts often go back in time, to a simpler time when the sound of the cicada (cricket) meant that you were heading for a walk in the woods.

Our small three bedroom home, with one bathroom (!)  , that housed 10 of us, abutted a field which led into the woods behind our old high school.  If you walked through the woods, you would arrive at the Bishop’s Bowl, a large field at the bottom of a ski hill, and eventually meet up with the road to the cemetery.

As a child, I lived in these woods. Not literally of course but I’m sure there were days when our mother would have like to have abandoned us to one of our tree houses.

Leaving the house, lush fields of grass would come up to my waist. I would pull a stock of grass from its moorings and chew on the end of it. That was just one of the crazy things we did back then. The very end of the blade of grass had a surprisingly pleasant taste. My guess is that a few of you partook in this pastime as well. On very hot days, the air would be alive with the sound of these noisy crickets or cicadas.

There would also be hundreds and hundreds of grasshoppers. If you stopped for even a few seconds, one would land on you. If it happened to be your hand or bare arm you might end up with something resembling grasshopper poop as a reminder of their presence. And speaking of bare arms, there was no such thing as sunscreen back then. I guess we hadn’t totally wrecked the ozone back in the 60s. Colorful butterflies, including the majestic monarch, flitted among the flora.

I also remember that field being full of wildflowers, especially daisies. “She loves me, she loves me not.” Come on, admit it, you plucked your share of petals trying to unravel the mysteries of love. What could a 9 year old possibly know about love? Probably as much, if not more, than a 68 year old!

The ground on the path was dusty with each step releasing a puff of smoky soil.

When the path met the woods, you entered a magical place filled with trees and wonder. On hot days, this was a cool place to be. This was your escape, the place that you would build your fort and live happily ever after. There were various trails throughout the woods and you knew them like the back of your hand. Each path had its own unique character.

On most days, you just wandered aimlessly listening to the birds and the chatter of squirrels. Occasionally you might come upon a harmless garter snake.

When your 9 year old legs got weary, you sat down in your favourite glen and munched on a peanut butter sandwich, washed down with a thermos of Cool Aid. The night before a hike in the woods, you’d take out one of those small packages of the sugary drink and make a pitcher, praying to God that one of your 7 siblings wouldn’t drink it all before morning.

You batted away horse flies and looked at your bloody limbs after an army of mosquitoes had marched through the forest with you as their target. And you were quite OK with this.

You probably picked some spruce gum from a tree. I know I had my share and can still smell and taste it and the black mark that it left on your hands, a sign of the outdoors. A healthy sign.

Will our grandchildren ever experience this magic?

This message sent to you by just another old, nostalgic fool.

Have a great holiday Monday.

 

 

Posted on July 29, 2019 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

Paradise. Just up the road from Meat Cove

By the time most of you haul your butts out of bed this morning, I’ll be on my way to the Cabot Trail… by car. No, I’m not starting my walk today but merely going on a scouting expedition. I want to map out mileages from Point A to Point B and drop in on some people. This will be a totally different walk than the Camino as I will be walking alone and on the main highways rather than on trails.

Once I have a clear picture of what my days will look like, I will be asking for some help finding lodgings along the way. I realize that some people think we Scots are a frugal lot and reluctant to open our purses and wallets. Yes, I could stay in motels or B&B’s along the way and may end up doing so on the odd occasion but the whole point of this adventure is to stay in people’s homes and hear their stories. These will provide fodder for a book that I’m threatening to write.

My walk has taken on a sharper focus as I plan to dedicate it to my friend Simone MacDonald, a long- time employee of Sobey’s who suffered a devastating stroke a few weeks ago. I’m up with the birds and like to get my groceries before things get too busy. Simone has been working the early morning shift for more than 35 years. She is an active walker and a frequent visitor to the rink to skate in winter. She has a warm personality and we always seem to share a laugh.

The hills that I will climb on the Cabot Trail are nothing compared with those facing Simone. She has a long rehabilitation ahead of her which will require resources. I have started raising money for her to help with expenses that are due to accumulate very soon. If you would like to help out, you can send money anyway that suits you. The Cabot Trail is 300K so maybe you can pledge so much per kilometre or simply a flat amount.

I’m accepting e-transfers at lenpdmacdonald@gmail.com. You can also drop off a donation at Sobey’s or if you’re old fashioned like me, you can mail me a cheque or better still, meet me for coffee and hand deliver it. If all else fails, a carrier pigeon will do. So far, generous folks have sent along $1,100. I’m hoping by the time my walk ends, that we can raise $5,000. I’ll keep you updated.

I was in Halifax on the weekend. Our two 11 year old guests for the month of July headed back home to Montreal yesterday so we decided to spend the weekend in the city. The weather was glorious. Yes, we completed our mission of having ice cream on 30 consecutive days. The very last one was at the Booza Emessa ice cream store in Bedford. This establishment is the pride and joy of one of the province’s Syrian refugee families. If you’re heading down the Bedford Highway towards Bedford, they’re on the right hand side just past the Esquire Motel. There are several businesses with red roofs. You can’t miss it. Booza is the last one. The ice cream is slightly different than what we’re used to but they received rave reviews from the four of us.

I did my Sunday walk yesterday.  We were staying in Dartmouth so I had to walk across the MacDonald Bridge in the early hours of the morning. I watched the fog lift over Halifax Harbour. I sat and gazed at the beauty of the flowers in the Public Gardens. I walked through Point Pleasant Park listening to the coos of the mourning doves, the chatter of squirrels and the scuffle of joggers’ feet out for their morning run. I strolled up Spring Garden Road, still one of my favourite streets anywhere. So many good memories are associated with this street going back to the days of the first Atlantic Bowl football games at Wanderers Grounds. No visit to Halifax was complete until dining at the Garden View Chinese restaurant. I walked from the downtown out to the Armview restaurant at the rotary for lunch with my son. Speaking of legendary restaurants, we’ve been going to the Armview for decades.

The walk certainly wasn’t my longest by any means clocking in at 25K. On this day, I chose quality over quantity.

Happy trails.

Have a great week.

 

  

If you haven’t made a donation to Simone yet, it’s time to pony up!

Posted on July 22, 2019 under Monday Morning Musings with one comment

“If you believed, they put a man on the moon.”

(With thanks to Bernice MacDonald Photography)

 

“Fly me to the moon,

Let me play among the stars,

Let me see what spring is like,

On Jupiter and Mars.”

Fly Me to The Moon. Frank Sinatra

Where were you on Sunday, July 20, 1969? If you weren’t born, you’ll be forgiven for not understanding the nostalgia felt recently by the 50 and over crowd. It was on this day, that man first stepped on the moon. While the moon landing is arguably the most important event of that calendar year, there were many other things that happened in the world that grabbed our attention.

I was playing in a golf tournament in the Annapolis Valley that day and on the way home, we heard the news on the radio. How about you?

The moon has inspired many songs over the decades.

“Moon River, wider than a mile; I’m crossing you in style someday.” Moon River. Frank Ocean

Richard Nixon became president of the United States in 1969 as the war in Vietnam raged. Joe Namath became a household name when he led his New York Jets football team to a stunning upset in the Super Bowl. The average income in North America was $8,500 and a gallon of gas cost 35 cents.

“I see a bad moon arising; I see trouble on the way.” Bad Moon Rising Credence Clearwater Revival.

The Beatles gave their last public appearance on the roof of Apple studio. Hard core Montreal Expos fans might remember that the Expos made their debut as the first major league baseball team outside of the United States on April 8, 1969

“And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too; I’ll see you on the dark side of the moon.” Dark Side of the Moon. Pink Floyd

I guess Montreal was the place to be in 1969. John Lennon and Yoko Ono held their second “bed-in” at the Queen Elizabeth Hotel during which Lennon wrote and recorded “Give Peace a Chance”. Woodstock, a generational outdoor concert held in upstate New York, dominated the headlines in August of 1969. A “Who’s Who” in the world of popular music (including The Who!) was there including Jimi Hendrix, Santana, Janis Joplin, Joe Cocker, The Band, Arlo Guthrie, Joan Baez and one of my all-time favourite groups, Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.

“Well it’s a marvellous night for a moondance; with the stars up above in your eyes.” Moondance. Van Morrison

The Beatles released their album “Abbey Road” in September of 1969. Many people consider it one of their best. Here Comes the Sun remains one of my favourites from that album. For those of you with a funny streak in you might remember the launch of Month Python’s Flying Circus in October that year. In what still ranks as one of the greatest upsets in baseball history, the (Amazing) New York Mets defeated the Baltimore Orioles in the World Series.

“If you believed they put a man on the moon, man on the moon.” Man on the Moon R.E.M.

The child in all of us will surely remember Sesame Street.  The first episode of this amazing children’s educational program was aired in November of 1969. The first ATM machine was installed in New York City.

“I love you to the moon and back.” Guess How Much I Love You. Sam McBratney

I have always wondered about this expression as I see it repeatedly on social media platforms. Apparently, every day, the heart creates enough energy to drive a truck for 30K. In a lifetime, that is the equivalent of driving to the moon and back. So when you tell someone that you love them “to the moon and back”, you’re essentially saying you will love them with all the blood your heart pumps your whole life.

Well, how’s that for some light fare during the dog days of summer?

I think I’ll just “moonwalk” out of here.

Have a great week.