Zoom w a View: Wortley Village windows

No one has yelled at me yet for snapping pictures of their front windows or doors on my way to my local coffee shop.

Maybe the home owners were still in bed this morning when I walked by or I was gone before they figured out what I was doing.

What would I say if someone shook their finger at me or I was pulled over by the coppers?


“What book is the young boy reading? And is it a young boy or girl?”


“Aren’t those doors the loveliest you’ve ever seen? And are the curtains crocheted or knitted?”


“I think crocheted curtains are almost a lost art. You?”

[Photos by GH]

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Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree attacked by ruffian

Good grief, Charlie Brown. Is nothing safe from roving ruffians... or local squirrels?

Just one day after my wife decorated Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree I had to break the news to her that a furry little rat with a bushy tail had undecorated the wee tree.


Nothing left but the hook and baub from the one red bauble.


Upon closer inspection, however, I was able to locate the bauble in the leaf residue I’d raked over a nearby flower bed.

All I need is some duct tape and we’re back in business.

[Photos by GH]

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Please click here to read the beginning of this tragic yet meaningful story.

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Pre-Occupied London: “Turn on the Christmas lights, kids!”

[“In London’s Victoria Park, where there were tents and 100 protesters, there are now fallen leaves and a few strollers. Where there were protest signs, there are now Christmas lights.” Nov. 16, London Free Press]

When summer is over and students are back in school most Londoners look forward to a pleasant fall. Those that have trees in their yard ready their rakes.

As Hallowe’en approaches Londoners stock up on mini-chocolate bars and kisses wrapped in black and orange paper. Many carve pumpkins for the porch and hope traffic at the door slows down in time to watch Coronation Street on TV at 6:30.

Then comes Remembrance Day, then news of the Santa Claus parade, then the dusting off of Christmas signage and Yuletide decor by local businesses and the writing of seasonal cards and shopping lists by parents (over-stressed Visa and Mastercard in hand) and every young child who wants something special on the 25th.

Then comes New Years Day - excellent! - followed by minor festivities related to Valentine’s Day, first day of spring and the Stanley Cup Playoffs before the next highly-anticipated summer season begins.

Ahhh... summer time. BBQs. And then around we go again.

Though many Londoners will be too occupied with regularly scheduled programming to notice (or untangling strings of lights so they can holler "Turn on the Christmas lights, kids!), R. Richmond of the London Free Press penned a thought-provoking article related to the Occupy movement yesterday.

He writes: “Across North America this week, the experience of the Occupy London camp is being repeated, with Wall Street’s camp emptied Tuesday and Toronto’s teetering on the edge of eviction.” (Nov. 16)

Then he asks a “question left behind: Can a movement that began with occupation live on when its camps are vacant?” (Link to full story)

I think it can, and there are positive signs that it will, perhaps in a new form, even here in ‘perfectly average’, ‘pre-Occupied’ London, the town in which Occupier tents were dismantled and removed ahead of any other city.

A community-based group shared this morning at a small press conference that it intends to converse with Occupy London, collect information re societal concerns from other members of the community and make use of an open door at City Hall to inform city politicians of important concerns that can be addressed.


[G. Pearson, J. Shelley, K. Dixon, S. Wilson, S. Quigley, E. Sheppard: photo GH]

Am I hopeful that questions raised by the Occupy movement will be addressed at a local level?

Well, Rome wasn’t built in a day, and the road is long, but with good hands on deck (the community-based group has many good hands aboard) some good questions can be raised, solutions explored and progress can be made.

More to follow.

***

Please click here for more news about the Occupy Movement.

Raffi’s blog at rabble.ca

An earlier post by GH

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The Workshop: Barn board bonanza, dust flies

[“I still derive a lot of pleasure from making sturdy houses - all shapes and sizes - out of leftover or rescued odds and ends.” GHarrison, Nov. 8]

Last week, the weather turned warm, I pulled the three tarps off my rescued lumber pile and - “Hey, ho, away we go! - hidden beneath a couple of scrappy boards I discovered barn board long forgotten.

“Bonanza!” I said to myself, and ideas for its use immediately sprang to mind.

Birdhouse with a sense of time and place, I thought. Whitey’s Bait Shop. Harrison’s Antiques (Est’d 1894). Gertie’s Gift Shop. Earle’s Odds and Ends.


["Building 'antique shops' will keep me off the streets": GH]

Now that rainy weather has past over, I can trim the edges of the last few boards, then reach the new lumber that’s also ready to roll.

Dusty times ahead.

News at 11.

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Please click here for more from The Workshop.

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Zoom w a View: Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree?

My son gave me an Eastern white pine three weeks ago and I placed it on the back deck until spring.

Just the other day, my wife saw fit to attach one wee Christmas decoration to it, and as soon as I saw it - in the rain, no less - a thought crossed my mind.


Am I the proud owner of Charlie Brown’s humble Christmas tree?

[Photo by G.Harrison]

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Please click here for more Zoom w a View

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Favourite Things: Dad’s Naval hat, from 1943

According to my dad’s memoirs, his service in the Royal Canadian Navy began on June 20, 1941 and ended September 5, 1945.

He left behind many tales (some published in two thick volumes dedicated to stories by members of the Merchant Marine) along with his medals, parts of his navy uniform and a tired wallet with a life time member’s card to the Norwich Legion.


One of the favourite things I inherited is dad’s naval hat, size 7.


["Dapper Dan?": photos by GH]

Dapper Dan I’m not when I place it upon my head, but it seems a perfect fit.

What is one of your favourite things?

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Please click here to see another Favourite Thing.

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Thoughts Deepening

Thoughts deepening

Minds remembering familiar voices stilled by death and dying


["Veterans on Parkwood Hospital bus, November 11, 2011": GH]

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Remembrance Day 2011: London, Ontario - 11 a.m.

[“Following the playing of The Last Post and two minutes of silence, where the only thing that could be heard were flags flapping in the wind, Catholic Central high school’s chamber choir sang In Flanders Fields.” Nov. 12, London Free Press]

Good service. Service performed by soldiers alive and dead. Service attended by Londoners young and old last Friday.


Good silence. Intended to mark the moment. Interrupted by only a few sounds.


Sounds of “flags flapping in the wind”
Wings of pigeons stirring the air over City Hall

Voices of quieted children counting the seconds
Rumbles, like thunder, not from a storm overhead, but from an uncovered microphone

Foot steps of those arriving late, shuffling, coming closer
Hearts beating


Thoughts deepening
Minds remembering familiar voices stilled by death and dying


[Photos by GH, Nov. 11, 2011]

***

Please click here to view photos from Remembrance Day 2010.

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“IT STRIKES” Again: Bert and Ernie debate the merits of the big raise at Queen’s Park

[The following column, inspired by actions of then Premier of Ontario Ernie Eves, was first published in April, 2003. I was so ahead of the curve! : ) gah]

Bert and Ernie debate the merits of the big raise at Queen’s Park

Bert (leaning dangerously out of the upper window over the Sesame Street Deli): Hey Ernie? Ernie? Is that you?
Ernie (rocking back stiffly and looking upward): Hey, Bert. Yeh, it’s me.

Bert: I had to call you twice. You seem to be in your own little world.
Ernie: Oh, I was doing some mental arithmetic. I really concentrate when I do that.

Bert: And I didn’t recognize you at first from up here. Are you doing something new to your hair?
Ernie: Yeh. (He runs his orange hand through his plastic hair.) It’s a new expensive gel. You should try it.

Bert: No thanks. I I like how my hair spikes up all on its own. Natural preservatives you know - kinda 1970s.
Ernie: Wanna come down for a milkshake, Bert? Deli’s open.

Bert: I’ll get ready. Whose turn to pay this time?
Ernie: I’m pretty sure it’s still your turn. I was just doing the math.

Bert changes quickly into his favourite striped T-shirt and green pants and hops out the window to the sidewalk below. Animated conversation continues once they are comfortably seated at a yellow table next to the Sesame Street fire hydrant, cold chocolate shakes in hand.

Bert: So how’s your job going at Queen’s Park?

Ernie: Well, I haven’t been there for a few months. I scheduled a long break after sweating over considerations for a 23 per cent pay hike.

Bert: Oh, wouldn’t that mean you’d be working longer hours?
Ernie: I really love your sense of humour, Bert. You’re so naive. I don’t think you’d ever make a decent politician.

Bert: You don’t think so, eh?
Ernie: Well, I’m sure we could debate that for hours but we won’t.


[Photo link]

Bert: So Ernie, I was wondering. How come I have to pay for your shakes all the time?
Ernie: It’s just common sense bert. See, I give you a little money if the wind is blowing in the right direction, then I expect you to pay it all back, and more. Didn’t you catch my budget from Brampton?

Bert: I wasn’t invited. I did turn on the TV but all I got was infomercials. So what would I have learned?
Ernie: First off you’d realize if you want to get a message out, don’t do it at the Magna training centre. With my business background I should have remembered it’s all about ‘location, location, location.’

Bert: Yeh, you seem to be taking some heat about that move.
Ernie: I’m just letting you know the media seems to be preoccupied with the location as opposed to the content of the campaign... er, budget speech.

Bert: Well, you could have used your house at Queen’s Park. There are more seats for people. Folks could have discussed the fine points with you.
Ernie: Yeh, that would have been the highlight of my day, Bert. Hey, do you like my new slogan? Sell - like there’s no tomorrow. Cut - like there’s no one watching. Lead - like you’ve never been hurt.

Bert: Wait a minute, Ernie. You’re just reading stuff off my T-shirt.
Ernie: Yeh, but it’s so clear and catchy. Bert, can I have your shirt?

Bert: Get your own shirt. You can afford it, can’t you?
Ernie: Of course I can. Just asking. You ready for more chocolate shake?

gah

***

Please click here for another exciting episode of “IT STRIKES” Again.

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Zoom w a View: Flushed with pride

Cyclists who ride regularly through Old South, even into late fall, will be happy to know that an additional amenity can be found at the corner of Ridout and Craig St., a favourite entranceway to Wortley Village.

Some wooden structure, perhaps made from cedar privacy lattice (I hope there will be a roof), will likely be added before the first snow falls.

At least, for the time being, the bicycle route remains well marked and no cars are allowed to park in front of said amenity.

No wonder Wortley Village, ahead of the curve is so many ways, is world renowned.

***

Please click here for It Strikes me Funny.

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Prose: slow ride quick death

[“I don’t usually sleep very well when I’m away from home. One morning, during a recent trip to visit my son and his family in Fenelon Falls, I awoke with a start.” gah]

slow ride quick death


in a flash I was awake
in a dark room - still alive
I felt a warm bed cover
on my shoulder
but a hot question
on my startled mind
what happened? I said
perhaps aloud

I closed my eyes
thought backward cautiously
to the scene of the explosive crash
to the sound of my heart
beating in my ears

only seconds earlier I’d been dreaming
driving my car up a small hill
and the only other passenger,
my wife, was making small talk
as we neared the crest
a car appeared
full speed ahead
in our lane, a wide chrome grill
aimed at my eyes


one second left of life
one thought - this is it
one scream - oh no
one impression - surprise absolute
the surprise of arriving
at an unexpected destination unannounced

I opened my eyes
stared at the wall -
still alive

gah

***

I hope this won’t be a recurring dream whenever I visit Fenelon Falls.

Please click here for wee prose more cheerful.

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It Strikes Me Funny: My wife’s only mistake

I can’t count the time my wife dug up one of two lovely white pine trees from our front yard as a mistake because she believes to this day it was dead.

I thought at the time, and still do, that its coverage of yellow needles only proved it was going through some hard times and that it would replace the yellow needles with new growth given a bit more time.

But we’ll never know who was right. While I was at work one day she cut it down. Not by mistake she says.


However, under the spreading arms of the second and surviving white pine (surviving quite well too, I might add) lies a metal cap to our water line. It sticks up about 3 - 4 inches and bears a scar from the time my wife hit it, several years ago, with the spinning blade of my last gas-powered lawn mower.

She told me she didn’t notice it. (What?!)


["Ollie spins just steps from the second pine and water cap": photos GH

Though she killed the lawn mower, I don’t mention it - well, hardly ever - because she’s pretty sensitive about her one and only mistake in life.

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Please click here for more It Strikes Me Funny.

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Cartoon in Progress: “Life’s like that, eh” 39

“Jerry noticed that the new model planes were getting more realistic all the time.”

gah

***

Please click here to view “Life’s like that” 38

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Favourite Things: A Case of You by Joni Mitchell

[“If Shania Twain is devoid of ideas to guarantee private time in her life... I have a few suggestions. She could pencil in downtime at her healthy-sized chunk of real estate in Switzerland... she could go down to the basement and sit in a comfortable chair, slap on some headphones and listen to her favourite Joni Mitchell CD.” G. Harrison, Sept. 2, 2004]

Christmas is coming and I’m busy putting a small book together for friends and family of some of my favourite columns. In my opinion, nothing says Merry Christmas like my story about Shania Twain or another about the high price of eggs or that brilliant piece - you remember, don't you - about one of my thousands of personal opinions.

While organizing the book I listened to Joni Mitchell songs but had to stop typing when ‘A Case of You’ began to play. For the hundredth time the lyrics and orchestral arrangement knocked me off my chair.

“Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I'm frightened by the devil
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid.”

Joni knocks me off my chair.

Below is the album cover for Both Sides Now, one home for ‘A Case of You.’ Joni’s painting skills rival her song-writing and guitar-playing skills and though I’ve looked at the cover many, many times, I only recently noticed the coaster beside her elbow.


“On the back of a cartoon coaster
In the blue TV screen light
I drew a map of Canada
Oh Canada
With your face sketched on it twice...”

When love goes wrong it can go wrong in crushing ways. When a song goes right it can go right forever.

‘A Case of You’ first appeared in 1970 but it still stings, bleeds and soars at the same time.

And it’s one of my favourite things.

***

Please click here for ‘Remembering my father’, my most recent column.

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Ollie and Me: “My egg-in-the-hole-in-one”

Someone wiser than me once said, “With grandchildren, you get your children back.”

Grandson Ollie, soon to be five, marched into the house this morning talking a mile a minute and almost instantly (I was only half through my coffee) enlivened me with his youthful enthusiasm and energy. He engaged me in conversations with flavours reminiscent of the ones I enjoyed when my own sons were his age and I was thankful for the experience (now expected, not as genuinely surprising as only a few years ago) of having one foot in today, the other in yesteryear, at precisely the same moment.

I quickly thought of a way to repay Ollie for his magic touch and said, “Have you had breakfast? Have you ever had egg-in-the-hole?”

He shook his head and raced toward the kitchen, and because the works - and a sharp knife - were already on the kitchen counter I followed close behind.


Crusts were already off the bread, square holes were waiting to receive an egg, butter was melting in the fry pan and it wasn’t long before our egg-in-the-hole breakfast, with cheese slice on top, was making a sizzling sound on the stove, much to our combined delight.

While we waited I served up “the world’s largest PB&J sandwiches” (the squirrels get the crusts, but we get the holes) and Ollie ate the two of them so fast I barely had time to snap a picture.


["Ollie ate the two of them so fast... : photos by GH]

I know I get my children back at times like these, but I wonder if, sometime in the distant future, Ollie will make egg-in-the hole and “the world’s largest PB&J sandwiches” and experience getting his Grandpa back?

(I never met my grandfathers, so my memory banks concerning them are almost empty).

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Please click here for more Ollie and Me.

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The Workshop: “I use more than rescued lumber now”

It’s time to fess up.

Though I made birdhouses exclusively from rescued lumber for 5 - 6 years, my run came to an end a couple of months ago when I purchased small number of new fence boards.

My ‘rescued lumber’ pile ran low during a busy time, the curbs and cupboards were bare and I came up empty on leads for useful scraps. So... off to Home Depot I did go.


Admittedly, I certainly like the cedar birdhouses I can make from new fence boards, and so do several satisfied customers.


As well, bat houses from fresh cut barn board can be assembled as if in a flash. Because the lumber is so clean, I spend a lot less time cutting and sanding.


["A recent GH model made from leftover and rescued bits and pieces": photos GH]

However, I still derive a lot of pleasure from making sturdy houses - all shapes and sizes - out of leftover or rescued odds and ends.

Many buyers like ‘rescued lumber’ birdhouses as well because, not only is the lumber saved from rotting in a landfill site, but their cost is often lower as well.

So. I’m betwixt and between, so to speak, until my ship - loaded with old boards - comes in.

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Please click here for a look at a bathouse from The Workshop.

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Welcome to Harperville: “More smoke and fire up your pants”

[“Speculation was rampant Monday that Finance Minister Jim Flaherty is going to break his promise by his boss to erase the deficit in three years.” Today’s London Free Press]

PM Harper promised to erase the deficit in three years, come hell or high water.

(Read my lips. It won't ever happen).

Meanwhile, back at the Finance Dept., Jim Flaherty has been sending out the message, as often as he can, that these are challenging economic times as far as his beady little eyes can see.

To anyone who will listen Jim has also mentioned the following:

- Canada’s unemployment has grown, according to recent reports, from 7.1 to 7.3 %

- the Greek situation could send Europe into a recession

- the US economy is struggling

- because of turbulence (Can you feel it?) his own growth expectations for the near future have been lowered

However, and this strikes me as funny, he hasn’t mentioned his boss's proposed corporate tax reduction for 2011 and how much that will cost the national treasury annually or who is going to have to make up the difference, and how, in the short or long term.

It’s no coincidence then, as many average Canadians are facing tougher times than ever before, there is also the feeling that someone is blowing smoke and fire up their pants.

***

Which Canadian Prime Minister has had the most expensive PMO or Prime Minister’s Office?

Please click here for more smoke and fire up (even down) your pants.

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Chasing Dad: PT 1 “His love of ships began at an early age”

[“To my family I dedicate this resume of my Naval Service from June 20, 1941 to September 5, 1945.” Leading Seaman Coxswain Gordon Douglas Harrison, RCNVR V8809, Class Very Good, Jan. 6, 1975]

I don’t have many traditions because I’m easily distracted, very forgetful and some things just go out of fashion.

For example, as a marathoner I met with other runners for a traditional Christmas morning run for several years in a row, but gave it up about five years ago because I’d stopped running and couldn’t keep up.

I do celebrate Happy Hour at 5 p.m. regularly, however, because by that time, if I’m working in my shop, there’s enough dust in the air for me to signal a pause for a cold beer to help clear my throat.

Also, I almost always replace worn out clothes by buying used jeans and t-shirts - oh, it’s a tradition, for sure - during regular trips to the Village of Values.

And, as some readers may know, I write a column about my dad on or near Remembrance Day (I think I’ve been doing it for enough years now to call it a tradition) to keep thoughts and an appreciation of his service in the Canadian Navy and for his country alive in my mind and heart.


The process of preparing a suitable column enlivens other memories as well, and for that I’m always grateful.

While writing this week’s column (Nov. 10) I dipped into a document my father assembled in the mid-1970s entitled ‘The Naval Memoirs of Leading Seaman Coxswain Gordon Douglas Harrison’ and I was briefly taken back in time to the 1930s, a time when pennies were hard to come by, when a family of seven - with no father at the head of the table - was more common, when dreams of a life upon the sea entered young boys’ minds.

In dad’s ‘Foreward’ I read the following:

I was born September 6, 1920, 12 lbs. 10 ozs.

As a young boy I was crazy about ships. I used to make boats by folding paper in a certain way and then sail them on the creek.

I was from a family of seven, three girls and four boys. My mother needed a new door sill for our home so she somehow procured a lovely board from a lumber yard. I stole the board and Sonny Bucholtz and I hollowed it out and used it for our first ship, the Bluenose.


["Gord Douglas and Gord "Sonny" Bucholtz, Senior ball champs"]

We got old car batteries, melted the lead and molded it to fit the bottom of the boat as a keel. Built masts and yardarms, made sails and halyards and her maiden voyage at Vandenburgh’s swimming pool was a terrific success. She was painted blue and white. I always admired the real Nova Scotian Bluenose and have a plastic replica in my rec room today. Yes, Mum found out about the board and I not only got the board, I got the shoe brush on my bottom.

In the navy if an officer says “well done” it is nearly the same as getting a citation or medal. I hope my efforts at this story may interest someone enough to say “Dad, well done.”

I don’t think it’s ever too late to say “Dad, well done” so I say it now.

I knew dad’s love for the S.S. Silver Walnut ran deep (he served upon it in 1941), and I wish I knew more about the ship he motored to Sicily upon (that is, when the motors were running), but it was great to learn his love for ships started as a young boy.

gah

PS

Because dad maintained his connection with Gord “Sonny” Bucholtz until Gord’s death, I include a photo of the two men together during good times in 1949.

***

Please click here to read about dad’s 1941 adventure upon the sea and near Scotland.

http://itstrikesmefunny.blogspot.com/2011/05/dads-navy-days-pt-3-door-opens-at-kings.html

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Cartoon in Progress: “Life’s like that, eh.” 38

“A few listeners really enjoyed Burton’s complicated finger arrangements.”

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Please click here to view “Life’s like that, eh.” 37

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Zoom w a View: Fall colours yet to fall

Muted colours, for certain, seem to be the order of the day.


Still, a few surprises can be found to cheer the weary traveller, or in my case, give me something to focus on as I walk to the Red Roaster for coffee.


On the south side of Bruce St., between Cathcart and Wortley, a tulip tree is beginning to shed a few leaves, but, if temperatures stay mild for awhile, it may retain some colour until December.


I’ll keep my eye on it.

[Photos by GH]

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Please click here for more Zoom w a View.

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