Three more signs that winter has definitely arrived

For those that keep count, I believe there are over 40 million signs that winter has arrived in Canada, that's if you count every pair of mittens sold in stores or knitted by people over age 70 in the last 3 years alone.

There are even more signs if toques and scarves are included.

Whatever the total, here are three more:


["Cold gray water - coming from Cameron Lake, Fenelon Falls": photo GH]

1. Ice has formed on Cameron Lake, on the north side of Fenelon Falls.

(I saw it with my own eyes. No camera available at the time. Sorry).

2. My wife and I had to take turns pushing our twin grand-daughters in their stroller this morning - our hands got so cold - because we didn't have sturdy gloves or even one pair of the aforementioned mittens. (usually she hogs the stroller and I just get to watch).

3. I had to wear my wife's toque after about 5 minutes to keep my ears from falling off.

Def'n - toque; a woolen cap that can be pulled down over the ears to prevent them from freezing or falling off. Some toques, aka toboggans, have pointy tops and make the wearer look like an over-grown elf. Fashion police should be called in such a case.

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Tomorrow's temperature is supposed to be be about 14 degrees Celsius.

What's up with our weather?

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The Maple Leafs: Going downhill. So, who is at fault?

Good grief. The defense isn’t playing well.

Captain Phaneuf is missed and Kaberle needs to start lifting weights.


The Leafs have 32 GF (goals for) and 42 GA (goals against) so forwards and goalies hvae to improve as well.

Then there’s Coach Wilson.

According to today’s paper “the man has virtually nothing to work with.” (London Free Press)


["Where is the Leaf defense?": photos GH]

I don’t totally agree, plus, the season ain’t over ‘til I say so.

Sure, we’re digging a hole, but if the defense, forwards and goalies pick it up a notch we could get above the dreaded line by Christmas.

That's not so much to ask, is it?

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My last Maple Leafs post is here.

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It Strikes Me Funny: I would never have to cook again

(And the beer would always be cold).

During a pit stop at Tim Hortons in Dorchester recently, while on my way home from Pt. Bruce for supper, I realized an undeniable truth.

Not that I do much cooking now, but if I was programmed to fall for colourful ads in coffee shops, I’d likely never have to cook another a meal again.

Breakfast meals for $2.99 said a cheerful poster. A lot of people must love that. A lunch menu over the till included soup and warm tea biscuits at a very reasonable price as well.

How can people resist, especially folks who are getting tired of cooking meals after 60 years of marriage? (Even 40. People get tired of opening their own can of chili.)

Come back at 5;30 p.m., the time I was there, and I bet Timmy would even serve you supper - lovingly displayed on an overhead poster - for under 4 bucks, not including a Canadian Maple do-nut and large mug of steeped tea.

Some people must surely plan most of their meals around the closest coffee shop in their neighbourhood.


["I'm gettin' tired of cookin' chili over an open fire. Back in an hour."]

Though I’m not ready to give up possession of my can opener yet, an overheard conversation between a couple in their eighties got me leaning farther in that direction.

“Hi, Mabel,” said an old fellow. “I saw your walker outside the LCBO (liquor store) this afternoon, about four o’clock.”

“No, that wasn’t me,” said Mabel, in a voice loud enough to peel paint. “I bet that was Shirley. I got mine in earlier.”

Laughter ensued and I chuckled up my sleeve too ‘cause I’ll be in their slippers some day, maybe pushing a walker with a wicker basket through Old South, London.

I bet, since Timmies is providing such encouragement to eat every meal of the day on their premises ("Never leave. Clean washrooms are just down the hall"), it won’t be long before somebody opens up a small liquor store in Wortley Village beside the Red Roaster or Black Walnut.

I can see me now. Hot chili at noon at The Roaster, and a cold can of Guinness in the shed by 2 p.m.

Please click here for The Lite News.

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That’s if the bottom doesn’t fall out of the Canadian economy.

It could happen.

Then I’ll be heatin’ up chili at home.

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Dear Mr. Tim Hortons Pt 2: What the heck?

As sure as I am that the sun will rise in the east tomorrow morning and pots of Tim Hortons coffee in St. John’s, Newfoundland will be among the first in Canada to reach an even boil, I’m sure many readers will think I’ll get absolutely no where in search of the truth about my favourite do-nut - the all-fine-all-the-time Canadian Maple.

But, one or two will surely enjoy the fact that I’m at least stirring the ol’ coffee pot.

(Oh yeh. See Pt 1 for details)

After all, it’s summer time, it’s hot and somebody has to do it.

Here’s what I want to find out:




["In Morrisburg, Ont. my fav do-nut is proudly called Canadian Maple": photos GH]

Why isn’t the Canadian Maple do-nut (Mmmm. Warm. Succulent. Filled with creamy goodness. Covered with real Canadian Maple icing. Zero calories. You know what I’m talking about.) called Canadian Maple in the province of Quebec?

Why is it called Erable du Boston in Quebec and sitting beside a lonely tray of Creme du Boston do-nuts?

Do Tim Horton stores in Quebec get their maple syrup from Boston?

Isn’t Quebec a huge producer of maple syrup?

Isn’t Quebec a part of Canada?

Has Quebec separated from Canada?

Is it now a part of Boston, i.e., like a northern suburb?

Here’s how I’m going to find out, or, at least try to find out.

I’m going to contact Tim Hortons head office as well as the contact address in Quebec.

Then I’m going to wait for the truth.

Because I need the truth.

We all need the truth.

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Yes, I am having fun, but the pursuit of truth can be fun at times, can’t it?

Hey, you write to them too. We’ll compare notes.

PS

My emails are in the mail. So, I’ve got a head start.

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Dear Mr. Tim Hortons: What the heck?

Recently, while visiting the Sauble River and town of Paisley area of the world (NW of Deforest City, Ontario) with kayaks strapped to the roof of a friend’s van, I ordered one of my favourite Canadian maple do-nuts at a Tim Hortons coffee shop.

Guess what it was called at the shop near Paisley.


["How can you not love this do-nut... and its name?": photo GH]

Canadian Maple, of course. That’s what it’s called all across Canada, and likely in the US as well, because people in the US know about Canada. Many Americans even like Canada and Canadians.

Wait. I lied. My fav do-nut is not called the Canadian Maple in Quebec. In that province it is called Erable du Boston and sits in a lonely tray right beside Creme du Boston.


(I'm not fibbing here).

To find out more about this terrible slight I am going to compose a masterful letter and send it to Mister Tim Horton himself, even though Tim is dead.

I have to know what’s going on around here.

Don’t Quebecers like the taste of Canadian Maple? The sound of the name?

Has Quebec separated from the rest of Canada?

What gives?

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Maybe you already know what’s going on around here.

What’s the scoop?

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