Posted on June 16, 2013 under Storytelling with one comment

So far, Father’s Day has bordered on perfection. I wrote a story at 5:30 this morning and then went for a brisk hour long walk to the East End and back. I hung out with my granddaughter, Leah Rose for part of the morning.

Later today I will watch the final round of the U.S. Open golf tournament with my son Peter and we will dine on lobster.

However, there was one hiccup… the hour and fifteen minutes I spent at the Cathedral attending mass. The sermon was far too long and was made worse by a sound system that made the priest virtually unintelligible.

And then, James MacPherson sang the Our Father and all was right with the world. Half way through, I whipped out my Blackberry and videoed the performance. The sound quality isn’t the best as I was in my perch in the back row of the tenor section.

Please go to the video tab on my webpage and have a listen.

And happy Father’s Day to all the men and thank their wives for putting up with them ( us ) !

Posted on June 15, 2013 under Storytelling with one comment

“Let’s go canoeing”, said one of my fellow teachers back in the spring of 1978.   I had never canoed before but was assured by just about everyone that the canoe ride down the  Peace River,  from the B.C. border to the Dunvegan Bridge, was a piece of cake.  With the long weekend in May approaching I decided to” take the plunge” with five of my teaching colleagues.  How prophetic that description turned out to be.

We were driven to the drop off area on a Friday after school.  Along with camping gear we were well stocked with food and drink.  Especially drink.

We pitched our tents on a warm evening, had some supper, sampled the supplies and went to bed, dreaming of conquering the Mighty Peace.

We were up at the crack of dawn.   After placing several cases of beer and just two loaves of bread into the first canoe, someone asked me, “What are you going to do with all that bread”?

As advertised, it couldn’t have been much easier.  Off we went and once we got the hang of steering the canoe, it was blissful.  For ten hours we coasted, occasionally lashing the canoes together.  We saw plenty of wildlife along the banks of the river.  They looked at us with disinterest.  They must have known we were teachers.

As the day drew to a close, we found a small island of tranquility, right in the middle of the river, which would be our home for the night.  We pitched our tents, ate a hearty supper, had a few drinks and howled at the moon appreciatively.  A slight breeze came up which kept the mosquitoes at bay.  By the time we settled in it was windy and there was a noticeable drop in temperature.

Part way through the night, we heard the pitter-patter of rain drops.  By daybreak there was a river of water running through our tents.  The mood of these voyageurs was slightly more sombre than it had been 24 hours previously.

We were cold, wet and a bit seedy as we packed up our belongings.  What lay ahead was the day from hell.  We expected it to be so and weren’t disappointed.  We battled a head wind all day.  We struggled for every inch of water.  A few of the canoes tipped when whitecaps crested.  It was a long, cold day of abject misery.

I thought of the pioneers, Radisson and Groseilliers.  They wouldn’t be whining.  I recalled Pauline Johnson’s classic poem, “The Song My Paddle Sings”.  My paddle was singing, “Get me the hell off this river”.

As we approached the Dunvegan Bridge, hail rained down from the heavens.  Like six drowned rats, we were rescued on the shore by friends who took us back to Fairview.  We were tired, cold and famished.  A feed of Chinese food at Jimmy Der’s Dragon Inn helped to revive our spirits.

At the end of the school year I took a trip to the West coast.  With my quest for adventure satisfied for the time being, I opted to take the ferry to Victoria.

And where’er your lot may be
Paddle your own canoe.

Sarah Bolton, 1853

 

 

Posted on June 14, 2013 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Today is day 7 of my 30 day challenge to kick the sugar habit and I am happy to report that I have managed to stay away from the sweets. I have also incrementally increased  the amount of exercise I am getting so I should start seeing some results on the scale. It certainly takes dedication and willpower but the health benefits are what this is all about. There is an ad running on television these days which indicates that many seniors spend the last 10 years of their life battling a variety of illnesses. I don’t know about you but I focus more on the quality of my life in the next 24 hours and tend not to worry too much about the future. Hopefully, one will look after the other.

Father’s Day conveniently coincides with the last round of the U.S. Open golf tournament. Doesn’t get much better than this if you enjoy golf. Earlier this week, I spent a few days in the Halifax/Dartmouth area and took a stroll down memory lane ( literally ) as I followed my son around the Brightwood golf course. I played in tournaments there back in the ’60’s and’70’s. It’s probably my age, but the course seems hillier than it was 40 years ago!

I continue to get feedback from ex-Antigonishers who are living in various parts of the world. I suspect you already know this but we have had a pretty mediocre spring. However, when you compare this to the severe flooding and wild fires in other parts of the world, we really don’t have much to complain about.

Have any of you seen a 3-D printer in action? I took a trip to the library the other day and watched it in action. The staff at the library tell me that the practical application of this new technology will eventually revolutionize the planet. For example, a farmer who lives in a remote area will have the capacity to manufacture a part for his tractor… on the spot!

We have enjoyed the company of our daughter and granddaughter all week. As you get older, you realize that this is what life is all about.

Ok. I will have a new story posted tomorrow. Have a good Friday and a great weekend. I hope to have an update on my book next week.