Zoom w a View

Woodpecker Attack!

["The woodpecker spots the entrance to a bee tunnel"]

An unidentified woodpecker is drilling holes in a softwood board above a shed door in my yard. I think it's hoping to find Mason or Carpenter bees, their larvae, pollen caches, maybe more.

Happy hunting, I say. I'll replace the board with western cedar - easy kap-easy - and make a display piece out of the beaten up softwood board. I bet some folks will enjoy seeing the work of 'drilling bees'.

 ["The lawn is getting beat up by skunks, The Annex

by 'driller bees' and a determined woodpecker"]

 ["Do you know the type of woodpecker at work here?"]

 ["The bird spotted sawdust on a birdhouse roof.
Above the dust, a perfectly round hole"]

 ["The hole is directly above the sawdust"]

 ["The woodpecker is drilling a series of holes in search of a meal"]

 ["One determined bird"]

["I think the close-up reveals holes on the inside surface

of the same board. Escape routes for bees?"]

["A squirrel - w a bird's eye view - shows me that my shed is

not the only place woodpeckers have been at work"]

When I stepped outside to get a close up the woodpecker took off like a shot.

Fortunately it returned for Part 2, The Video.

Link to YouTube video of this happy hunter

Link to Zoom w a View

Photos GH

Bird Watching

Brewer's Blackbirds are Parents

 ["The female blackbird wants the dove to shove off"]

I spotted Brewer's blackbirds at the feeder at least two months ago and suspected they were nesting in a nearby blue spruce. Today my suspicions were confirmed. Both a male and female once again stopped for lunch in my backyard and they brought their young - for the first time as far as I know.

["Male Brewer's blackbird watches over one of his young"]

["A sparrow drops in to see what all the fuss is about"]

I suspect as well that the same spruce was home to successful families of cardinals and robins this year, making my $50 investment in the tree - over 20 years ago - a pretty darn good deal.

Perspective: Some long-term investments really pay off.

Link to Bird Watching

Photos GH

The Workshop

Nearing the End

Two 'little free libraries' are nearing the end of the line, edging closer to the exit.

What's still needed? Additional signage (already painted up pretty) for the tall boy, solar back lighting and magnetic door clips for both.

["Tiled floors all finished in both"]

["Four faux windows - two per unit - turned out well"]

The first task will take ten minutes. The second... to be determined. Hopefully, I'll be working just a few more hours on the pair this P.M.

Please link to more details about the work of Frida Kahlo here.

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Heart of the Matter

Part 1 - Bury Me at Sea

- Early 1980s

As I recall, my wife Pat and I travelled from London to see my parents in Norwich, Ontario on a very lovely day and under pleasant circumstances. That is to say, to have a Sunday visit and enjoy supper together. Our two sons were old enough to send off to the nearby school grounds or baseball park to play on their own (and if they wandered downtown - less than two blocks away - that was fine too), a roast was in the oven, a store-bought pie was on the kitchen counter and cups of tea with cookies were offered and welcomed after the hour drive from our home to theirs. 

Initially, the visit went perfectly well. It helped that, with my wife and I in our early thirties and my parents in their early sixties, we had lots of common small talk to comfortably fill the afternoon. We talked about the boys (we just had to look out the window to be sure that neither had fallen off the monkey bars and landed on his head), our family cars, changes to our houses. My teaching career was going well and so were the Blue Jays. Easy breezy afternoon, as some would say.

Then my father handed me a photo postcard of the 'Sailor's Statue' (Sackville St., Halifax) and said, very passionately, "I want to be buried at sea."

He could not have produced a more devastating affect on the conversation had he tossed a hand grenade under the dining room table where we sat. Pat and I didn't know what to say.

But my mother did. "What's going to happen to me? Am I going to be buried alone?"

The tension turned thick, making me think to this day that they had not discussed Dad's wishes too fully before that day.

My mother then made it clear she didn't want to be buried alone, that husbands and wives were supposed to be buried together. Dad tried to add some explanation but didn't get far. And, on that day, the matter was closed as far as Pat and I were concerned. We discussed our feelings about our support for both parents' conflicting wishes during the ride home, but like many other very important things in this world, we didn't explore the issue or possible solutions to the dilemma much farther because 'life got in the way'.  

Of these things I am certain: Dad and I never discussed his wishes again before mother passed away in November, 2000. While my parents were alive no one ever thought or talked about the possibility of splitting Dad's ashes in two, burying one half with mother and the other at sea. Mother explored the possibility of being buried with her mother at the Norwich Cemetery but her wishes were refused by one of her brothers. A solution to the dilemma - how to satisfy both of their wishes - never surfaced in their lifetime. 

["Like most married couples, my parents are buried together"]

A solution did spring to my mind, however - completely out of the blue, while I was working on a project in my basement - shortly after my father died in February, 2003.

More to follow.

Link to Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Photos GH

Music in the Workshop

On the Nickel

A friend and I talked about my previous post related to the music I sing along to in my workshop and he said that 'On The Nickel' (re 5th St., LA) is his type of music. Mine too.

What album is goin' 'round in your head?

Link to On The Nickel by Tom Waits

Link to Music in the Workshop

Photo GH

It Strikes Me Funny

Skunk is Up Early

 ['The little guy just slipped under the corner of the Annex deck"]

I stepped outside my shop yesterday to grab my wooden stool. I heard movement nearby, turned my head and - frozen in position - watched a skunk slip under the corner of The Annex (garden shed/lumber storage).

Whoa. He's up early, I thought.

I shut the screen door behind me.

["1:34 P.M. to be precise!"]

What is the earliest time of day you have seen skunks up and about?

Link to It Strikes Me Funny

Photos GH

Zoom w a View

Hop Crop a-Comin'

Due to cooler weather, the crop on my side fence may not be ready for 'hoppin' lagers'* until Thursday.

That being said, keep yer big spoons handy.

["Hop cones will slowly form to a 2-3 in. size"]

Link to Zoom w a View

Photos GH

*the practice of popping five hop cones - fresh off the vine - into a cold lager then stirring gently w a big spoon

Birdhouse London

Have Bell, Will Travel

Robyn Craig, a neighbour four doors down, had a bell to spare. And I had an empty belfry.

Ring them bells, I say.

Link to Birdhouse London

Photos GH

The Workshop

Three Rustics

I rescued the lumber in these rustic birdhouses from the Dorchester landfill site many years ago. I rescued the wood a second time recently from the back wall of The Annex.

In my opinion, the roofs are B-A-ueatiful!! I refuse to add paint to these sturdy houses, except for the perch and front bench.

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

Music in the Workshop

Tom Waits

I've been playing Tom Waits' CDs all week in the shop and still been able to get some work done.

'Closing Time' (1974) was his first album and it is in my Top Ten, for sure.

Link to 'Closing Time' single YouTube

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

Bird Watching

Nervous Nellies

 ["Earl, I said 'look'. He's still watching us"]

As soon as I stepped out of the workshop yesterday two mourning doves abandoned the bird feeder and headed north. Sparrows quickly took their place, grabbed a free evening meal.

["What do we do now? Head north?"]

["I feel better. Do you feel better?"]

Nellies have nothing to fear from me. Weaselly Squirrels, another matter.

Link to Bird Watching

Photos GH

Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Nelson Langevin, RCNVR, Combined Operations

["Members of RCNVR, WW2, including Lloyd Evans, Markham"]

I met Lloyd Evans, age 91 and former member of Royal Canadian Navy Volunteer Reserve and Combined Operations (approx. 1941 - '45 like my father) in what I consider a conventional manner. I tracked him down via the internet, wrote him an introductory email, then had a phone conversation with him and later drove to his current home in Markham, Ontario to meet him face to face. Nelson Langevin, age 92 and also a proud former member of RCNVR and Comb. Ops., figuratively fell into my lap during a recent visit to Ottawa.

About a year ago, while reading WW2 stories featured on a Scottish website dedicated to the men of Combined Operations I found Lloyd's ('Landing Craft Operator'), a story so similar to my father's own WW2 memoirs that I believed they were twins, or must have at least known each other. I asked the website's creator to help put me in touch with Lloyd. He did, and as a result I have made a very rewarding connection with a WW2 veteran.

["One of Lloyd's WW2 photos. Training on a landing craft."

Chuck Rose (Chippewa), Al Kirby (Woodstock), Don Westbrook (Hamilton)]

Link to Combined Ops website, combinedops.com

Link to Lloyd's story, Landing Craft Operator

["WW2 Landing craft crew, incl. my father, likely in S. England"]

["Combined Ops badge"]

I met Nelson in an unsuspected fashion. A visit to the War Museum in Ottawa was on my East Coast trip's itinerary (during my trip home from Halifax) and the way in which Nelson and I crossed paths there could never have been predicted.

I visited the War Museum on Monday, June 23 according to my own plan. I had asked via email, much earlier in the month, if the museum would be interested in receiving a copy of my father's Navy memoirs (now in book form). I received an affirmative reply. So, dressed in my best T-shirt and khaki shorts and atop a rented bicycle, I proudly arrived at the museum shortly before ten a.m. and discovered the library and archive office was not open on Mondays. Stink! I wasn't expecting that.

["The museum accepted a copy of my father's WW2 memoirs for their collection"]

I wandered about, wondered what to do, and after visiting the Memorial Room decided to ask a receptionist - before paying an admission fee - if there were any displays regarding the men of Combined Operations. The answer was 'no' and my mind turned to leaving the building.

"You should talk to that lady about future displays," said the receptionist, while pointing to a woman standing ten metres behind me.

["I visited Memorial Hall on Monday after donating father's memoirs"]

I turned to face her, said hello, introduced myself, showed her the copy of dad's book I had been hoping to donate that morning, and we talked a bit about Combined Ops. She helpfully provided forms to fill out (there are always forms), to be attached to the donated book, and I said I'd return on Wednesday morning on my way to my son's house in Fenelon Falls.

Her face brightened. "Wednesday is a good idea. A volunteer, named Nelson Langevin, comes in on Wednesdays at ten and you might like to meet him. He was a member of RCNVR and Combined Ops," she said.

Nelson's name wasn't familiar and I said, "How old is he?"

"Ninety-two or -three," she said. "And he mentioned he was involved in North Africa, Sicily and Italy like your father."

["Significant plaque in Ottawa's Peace Tower,

in honour of Canadian Armed Forces, WW2"]

Wednesday at ten. I'd be there.

And I arrived pretty early, at least 30 minutes before the appointed hour. I walked to the volunteer's lounge, introduced myself to three men in their seventies and was told that Nelson usually shows up for his volunteer duties right on time. So, I poured myself half a cup of coffee, grabbed a couple of homemade chocolate chip cookies and settled in to wait. And I waited, grew nervous, waited some more and grew more nervous. No Nelson by 10:15.

Though I shouldn't have been, I felt pressed for time. The motorcycle ride to Fenelon Falls was on my mind. So I sat down and wrote a note to be tucked inside my last copy of dad's memoirs.

   Dear Nelson,

   I am sorry to have missed you and unable to make your
   acquaintance.
   
   When I visited the Museum on Monday, to drop off and donate
   a book for the Archives, I was told you were a volunteer here
   and a member of RCNVR and Combined Operations WW2. (The
   book relates to my father's navy memoirs, WW2, w RCNVR and
   Comb. Ops. 1941 - 45).

   When I was told you were involved in Dieppe, N. Africa,
   Sicily, Italy and Normandy I felt you may have been active
   close to where my father was active as a Leading Seaman
   and Coxswain on the landing craft. He too was at N. Africa,
   Sicily and Italy (he missed Dieppe by one day, on leave).
   I have left a book for you to read.

I moved to sign my name when Nelson walked through he doorway. He was dressed to the nines, right down to a lovely Navy blue tie with an embroidered pattern of the Combined Ops insignia. Lovely lovely, as I like to say.

Nelson noticed the photo of my father on the book's cover and said, "I know Doug."

["My father and his sister Gertrude, in Hamilton, 1941"]

My heart did a back flip, and I soon learned Nelson served in North Africa, Sicily and Italy, but on a different barge than Dad. "But I knew most of the guys ," he said. "There were only 80 of us."

(Eighty in the 80th Flotilla? I'll try to find out. Obviously, my research related to Dad's Navy days is not complete!)

Not only had he visited with my father (at my parents' house in Norwich) during a Navy reunion - likely in the 1970s - but he still had a photo from my dad of the large maple tree that covered the house. He quickly rattled off the names of other veterans and friends of my fathers. I turned to photos of some of those mentioned in my dad's book and we both had a glorious walk down memory lane together. 

He was very surprised when I said I had recently received WW2 photographs from another veteran. I mentioned the man's name.

"You know Lloyd?" he asked. "Lloyd is still alive?"

I said, "Yes. He lives in Markham with his wife."

"Where is Markham? How far is it from here?"

I was overwhelmed with Mr. Langevin's energy and enthusiasm, and I promised to send him Lloyd's email address and phone number. Shortly thereafter we said our good-byes. 

I looked at my watch while standing beside my motorcycle in the underground parking garage. It said 8:30 and I knew it was wrong. It had to be much later in the morning. 

I asked the first person I saw for the correct time and was told the time was 11:11.

Pretty darn fitting, I say to this day. 

The way I see it, one search will always lead to another and then another, so I can positively predict I have many roads yet to travel because the journey I'm on - which includes retracing some of my father's steps during WW2 - doesn't come with a neat, final destination. However, by the time I'm 105 I'll have quite the collection of research items and photos related to RCNVR and Combined Ops, and more stories to tell.

PS Nelson and Lloyd connected by phone shortly after my visit to Ottawa. Lloyd then emailed me and told me to come visit. He wants to tell me all about it.

Link to Halifax and Another Hard Promise

Photos GH

The Workshop

Mexican Bird Motif

["Two libraries but only one has signage"]

While attaching imitation windows to the 'little free libraries' in my shop I realized I was short one sign. One library has a snake sign. The other has a blank stare. First thought: How about a wise old owl? Second thought: That's so 1950s. Get hip.

So, I used this thingme called the interweb and found a free Mexican-style bird clip art image that looks just right. More paint is needed, and after I finish off a half-dozen birdhouses - lined up and waiting to be served -  I'll get right on that!

["Six birdhouses, lined up and waiting for second coats and trim"]

Link to The Workshop

Photos GH

Bird Watching

I Nailed It

 ["Gord! Gord! The sparrows are taking over!" says Mr. C.]

I think I know why my feeder has been so popular - there are lineups to get in - for the last few weeks. Three reasons.

["How long do we wait down here 'til there's room?"]

A little birdie told me about the best seed mix in town... and I listened.

["Go lighter on the crushed corn. Heavier on the sunflower seeds."]

A lovely dove suggested upgrades to the bird bath... and I listened.

["The rock is good. And change the water regularly."]

And finally, a squirrel showed me how it was getting into my feeder and eating almost all of the birdseed. It squeezed through the hole in the old metal lamp shade that was wired to a wooden support under the feeder. So, about a month ago I grabbed a sturdy hammer and tapped nails into the bottom of the support, effectively blocking - in a pointy sort of way - the squirrel's open door to a free meal.

["The squirrel still poked his head through the hole for a couple

of days, but now doesn't even bother to climb the pole. I win!!"]

The birds are now feeling right at home. Me too.

Link to Bird Watching

Photos GH