I'M GETTING NERVOUS ABOUT BAND GIG, AND I'M ONLY THE ROADIE - GRANT "TINGEY AND HIRED GUN" PLAY THE GRIFFIN THURSDAY NIGHT
FOR ABOUT A MONTH NOW, ANDREW AND ROBERT HAVE BEEN PRACTICING LIKE MAD, AND MOST RECENTLY, TWO TO THREE TIMES EACH WEEK IN FACT, TO GET READY FOR THEIR FIRST GIG AS A NEWLY REVAMPED COUNTRY BAND, KNOWN AS "GRANT TINGEY AND HIRED GUN," WITH WELL KNOWN DRUMMER, JOHNNY FAY, OF THE ICONIC CANADIAN ROCK BAND, "THE TRAGICALLY HIP." THE GIG, AS YOU MAY KNOW, FROM MY WRITE-UP A COUPLE OF DAYS AGO, IS AT THE GRIFFIN GASTROPUB IN BRACEBRIDGE. THEY'VE BEEN SUPER-CHARGED ABOUT THIS CHANCE TO PLAY FOR AN AUDIENCE, WITH TWO VERY TALENTED PERFORMERS, GRANT TINGEY, AND JOHNNY FAY. THE OTHER MEMBER OF THE GROUP, IS GUITARIST BLAKE TINGEY.
SUZANNE AND I ARE THE ROADIES, AS WE HAVE BEEN MANY, MANY TIMES, SINCE THE BOYS BEGAN PLAYING IN BANDS, AS TEENAGERS, WHILE AT GRAVENHURST HIGH SCHOOL. I DON'T MIND DOING THIS, AND IT IS SORT OF LIKE BEING A HOCKEY DAD, (LIKE MY FATHER), BUT INSTEAD OF SMELLY HOCKEY GEAR AND COLD RINKS, I'M DELIVERING GUITARS AND AMPS TO REALLY NICE, COMFORTABLE VENUES, LIKE THE GRIFFIN. DAD AND MOM AREN'T GOING TO SEE THE SHOW TONIGHT, BECAUSE WE EXPECT IT WILL BE A PACKED VENUE, AND WE'VE SEEN THEM PLAY TOGETHER BEFORE. GEEZ, I DON'T KNOW HOW WE'D FEEL IF WE WERE TAKING TO THE RINK TO PLAY HOCKEY INSTEAD. WE'D BE JUST AS PROUD. BUT THEY CHOSE MUSIC OVER HOCKEY MANY YEARS AGO, SO I MAY ONLY, ONE DAY, BE A HOCKEY GRANDFATHER.
I WAS TELLING ROBERT THIS MORNING, ABOUT HOW EXCITING IT WAS, BACK IN MY HOCKEY GLORY DAYS, TO BE GETTING READY FOR A BIG GAME, AND THEN THE THRILL OF STANDING IN THE GOAL CREASE, AS THEY PLAYED THE NATIONAL ANTHEM. I WAS TRYING TO CREATE A PARALLEL SITUATION, ROBERT MIGHT GRASP, THINKING ABOUT STANDING, FACING THE PATRONS AT THE GRIFFIN, GETTING READY FOR THE BAND'S FIRST NUMBER. I WAS REALLY HAVING SPORT WITH HIM, BECAUSE HE WAS PRETENDING TO BE COOL WITH THE PRESSURE OF PENDING PERFORMANCE. WHAT I GOT AROUND TO SAYING, WAS THAT AFTER THE OPENING FACE-OFF, FOR ME, AS WAS TRADITION, THE OPPOSITION FORWARDS COULDN'T WAIT TO "TEST THE NETMINDER." SO IN THE FIRST MINUTES OF THE GAME, ONE OF THE WINGERS WOULD LOB ONE DOWN THE ICE, HOPING IT WOULD BOUNCE A COUPLE OF TIMES BEFORE GETTING TO ME. FROM BEING SO EXCITED TO PLAY THE GAME, AND HAVING MY GIRLFRIEND AND HER CHUMS CHEERING FROM THE BLEACHERS, THAT FIRST SHOT WAS A MAKE OR BREAK DEAL. IT WOULD SET THE TONE FOR THE REST OF THE GAME. FLUB IT, AND I'D SHRINK INTO MY SKATES WHEN THE PUCK HIT THE MESH. STOP THE PUCK, WHAT A HERO.
I WAS TRYING TO POINT OUT, THAT IF HIS FIRST FEW NOTES PLAYED, ARE SPOT-ON, THEN IT WOULD BE EQUIVALENT TO THE "BIG SAVE." IF NOT, WELL, THAT'S SHOW BUSINESS. "DO YOU EXPECT ME TO FLUB-IT DAD, LIKE YOU DID," HE ASKED. "I ONLY FLUBBED FIFTY PERCENT OF THE TIME, SON!" I REPLIED. "YOU'RE IN THE 25 PERCENT CLUB." "TWENTY-FIVE PERCENT CHANCE OF FLUBBING, OR HITTING THE RIGHT NOTES?" I SMILED AT THE BOY. "YOU'LL DO FINE SON. NO ONE IS GOING TO SHOOT THE PUCK AT YOU TONIGHT!" YUP, I CAN SAY THINGS LIKE THIS BECAUSE I'M "DAD". THEY CAN'T FIRE ME AS A ROADIE BECAUSE WE OWN THE VAN, AND THEY NEED A RIDE.
WE KNOW GRANT AND JOHNNY WILL KEEP THE BOYS IN CHECK, AND HAVE A HELL OF A GOOD NIGHT AT THE GRIFFIN.
CHRISTMAS IN MUSKOKA - A WINTER-TIME CONUNDRUM AND THE MECHANIC-WELDER - THE GAME MUST GO ON!
AN ACT OF KINDNESS FOR A KID WITH A BROKEN SKATE
I HAVE BEEN THINKING A LOT ABOUT OLD-TIME HOCKEY RECENTLY. NO, I DIDN'T WATCH THE MOVIE "SLAPSHOT" LAST NIGHT, ALTHOUGH I HAVE ABOUT A HUNDRED TIMES IN THE PAST. SHORT OF LACING-UP THE SKATES, AND FINDING A HOCKEY STICK THAT DOESN'T HAVE FUNGUS HANGING OFF IT, AND THEN FINDING A FEW OPEN METRES OF ICE ON THE POND ACROSS THE ROAD, SUFFICE THEN, BEING AS WONKY KNEED AS I AM, TO WRITE ABOUT IT INSTEAD. LAST WEEK I PULLED TOGETHER A LENGTHY EDITORIAL PIECE ABOUT THE EARLY CAREER OF ROGER CROZIER, FORMERLY OF THE DETROIT RED WINGS, WHO HAD TO FACE THE GREAT JEAN BELIVEAU, IN THE 1966 PLAYOFF FINAL AGAINST THE CANADIENS. HE ADMITTED IT WAS PRETTY DAUNTING, LOOKING UP THE WING, AND SEEING THE EVER SO SMOOTH, LIGHTNING FAST BELIVEAU, EASILY STICK HANDLING PAST THE DEFENCE, AND BREAKING IN ON HIS GOAL CREASE. THE WINGS LOST THAT SERIES, TO MONTREAL, ON A QUESTIONABLE GOAL BY HENRI RICHARD (AT LEAST IN MY OPINION. AND THE REST OF THE RED WING FANSHIP BACK THEN), BUT ROGER WON THE CONN SMYTHE TROPHY, FOR HIS PLAYOFF PERFORMANCE. IN THE FIRST YEAR OF THE CONN SMYTHE TROPHY, THE YEAR EARLIER, IT HAD BEEN BELIVEAU WHO HAD WON THE TROPHY, IRONICALLY NAMED AFTER THE FOUNDER OF THE TORONTO MAPLE LEAFS. LOSING JEAN BELIVEAU THIS WEEK, WAS A BIG BLOW FOR HOCKEY IN THIS COUNTRY. HE WAS A GENTLEMAN AND WAS ONE OF THE MOST SPORTSMANLIKE PLAYERS IN THE LEAGUE, BACK IN THE DAYS OF THE ORIGINAL SIX. HE WAS MY MOTHER MERLE'S FAVORITE HOCKEY PLAYER. WELL, HER FAVORITE PLAYER BEHIND FRANK MAHOVOLICH, THAT IS. AND THEN THERE IS GORDIE HOWE. WHAT AN AMBASSADOR FOR HOCKEY THEN AND NOW. MR. ELBOWS. IF YOU WENT INTO THE CORNER WITH HOWE, THERE WAS A GOOD CHANCE YOU WERE GOING TO TASTE THE SWEATER FABRIC ON HIS ELBOW. I KNOW ROGER THOUGHT A LOT OF GORDIE, HAVING PLAYED WITH HIM FOR A NUMBER OF YEARS IN DETROIT. THERE'S A STORY TOLD BY A SPORT'S WRITER, AT THE TIME, WHO WATCHED CROZIER JUMP ON GORDIE'S BACK AT A PRACTICE, AND REACTING TO THE GOALIE'S PRANK, GORDIE TOOK HIM FOR A SKATE AROUND THE ICE, AS IF ROGER WAS RIDING A HORSE WEARING SWEATER NUMBER NINE. I HOPE GORDIE WILL MAKE A RECOVERY FROM HIS RECENT STROKE. I GREW UP WITH POSTERS OF THESE ALL STARS IN MY BEDROOM; SO YES, WE WERE VERY INTIMATE BACK THEN, AND THEY WERE THE INSPIRATION EVERY TIME I HAULED MY EQUIPMENT TO THE ARENA FOR THAT WEEK'S MINOR HOCKEY GAME.
THE PROBLEM WITH TUBE SKATES!
The story I'm about to spin for you, is absolutely true. No embellishments for personal glory, or for the gain of the fellow who tried to help me, that day, in the midst of a pre-game crisis. It is, however, a story that reflects on the kindness of citizens when I was growing up, who epitomized what our family was learning about small town life. We had only just arrived in Bracebridge, and were still trying to adjust from the city influences of Southern Ontario. I believe this event happened in the winter of 1970, four years after moving to town, and the Weber apartments on upper Alice Street. I was tending net for three teams back then. I was playing in what was called then, the Town League, then a "B" team that travelled to neighboring communities, like Baysville, Port Carling, Bala and MacTier. Then, on weeknights, I was the back-up goalie to starter, Tim Morrison, for the "Allstar" team. So I was at the arena a lot in those days, which was great fun. Here's the hiccup. My parents couldn't afford to buy me goalie equipment back then, so I had to use the badly worn, vintage pads the town owned, which offered very little protection for the new style of slapshot. I was forced to wear a baseball catcher's mask, because there was only one other solid, fiberglass mask, and it would often be in-use by another of the town league netminders. It was okay, but there was no protection on the top of my head, or on the back, and the puck could fit into the openings between the metal bars. I had to have referees remove a couple of them, after stopping shots with my face. I loved hockey so much, I didn't care about getting injured. I just wanted to be on the ice with my team; and I, like every other kid back then, thought about the exploits of Beliveau, Howe and Crozier, amongst dozens of other all star N.H.L.'ers.
One of the most significant shortfalls, for any goalie, was to play net without proper goalie skates. It might have been okay in the history of hockey from its beginnings, but not in the modern sense of faster player and harder shots. My parents tried the best they could to keep me outfitted, but always gravitated to the bargain skates, just to keep me on the ice. The safety issue, is that regular skates, back in the 1960's, didn't always have the best toe protection or side padding. Goalie skates were designed with metal toes, so that the puck, driven at a hundred miles an hour, wouldn't break the player's toes, if it was a direct hit. My skates had a plastic insert, but nothing that would save my toes from a nasty impact. Now, let me scare you. I had an in-grown toe nail, that had become infected. My parents were of the school of thought, that their child had to be tough, and endure suffering to become a man. I'm not kidding about this. My mother would look at my toe, and rub some ointment from a tube, she presumed would fix me up, and then send me off to hockey. If you have ever had an in-grown toe nail, with an infection, you will then be able to imagine the kind of awful pain, one would experience, taking a blistering shot off the toe, from an incoming forward. I did, many times. The issue was, I couldn't look to the bench for a replacement, because I was, with two out of three teams, the only goaltender, other than my opponent in the net at the other end of the rink. And I couldn't stop the play every time I got hit, which could be three or four times each game. I had to endure the pain, and keep tending "the pipes," regardless of the blood in my sock. It was my coach who finally asked my mother to please get me to a doctor, to get the nail looked after. Well, that's another horror story, but the treatment worked. But I still had to deal with wearing inadequate skates, with no protection on the toes and the sides, where goalies have to make skate-saves.
One early afternoon, before Christmas, I was skating on a little pad of ice, in the Hillman family's back yard, on Toronto Street, just prior to this particular equipment malfunction. As you probably know, natural ice is much harder than artificial ice, frozen by a network of pipes below the concrete pad in an arena. Natural ice, on this day, was too hard for my skates apparently. On this day, Al and Rick Hillman, and neighbor Don Clement, and I, were playing a two on two, in the afternoon, when I began to hear some strange and troubling creaking from my left skate. I could feel the blade moving up and down. When I'd lift my skate, the blade would spring down, and when I took a stride on my left side, the blade would push up into the tube. I sat on a snow bank, and let Rick and Al have a look at what happening to the blade, and at that point, the back end was buried in the tube part of the skate, with only about a quarter inch of blade exposed to connect with the ice. The rivets had failed, in the back part of the skate. The front was fine, but it was allowing for the pivot of the back, to slide up and down from the tube. I had never seen anything like this before. The big problem that day, is that I had a late afternoon game at the Bracebridge arena, and I couldn't possibly skate the way the blade was moving up and down. Even in net, it would have been hard to move from side to side without tripping myself.
I went home and phoned my dad at work, to ask him if he knew anyone who could fix the skate. He was working at Building Trades Centre at the time, but he knew hundreds of people from the town, from clerking at the store. I suppose I had wanted him to offer to buy me another pair in time for the afternoon game. Couldn't do that, he said. He suggested I take them to one of the area gas stations, to see if one of the their mechanics could weld the blade back in place. As I really hated to miss a game, I pulled on my winter gear, and ran all the way back to the main street. I went to the Uptown Garage first, where Ted Smith told me he couldn't fix it right away. Across the road, at Muskoka Garage, they were behind in their shop repairs, and advised that it would be the next week, before they could make the welding repair. I even went to Ecclestone's Hardware, to see what they would recommend, and the clerk that day, pointed me at the skates they had on sale. I didn't even have a quarter for a pop, and I really needed one.
I'll tell you, I was feeling pretty down-hearted, when I came down the Thomas Street hillside, and met Al Hillman again, who suggested I should go and talk to his dad's business partner, Art Crockford, at the Downtown Garage. I don't know why I hadn't thought of this earlier, seeing as I had to pass it on the way uptown. I went into the dark old-time service station, with its dim lights, and found Art looking through a parts catalogue. He asked me politely, as was his manner, what he could do for me that fine winter day. He must have sensed my deep desolation, because he closed up the book, and took the skate from my hand. I told him I had to play in a game at the arena, in an hour, and was without a skate. On this day, I was to be the only goalie to dress. I didn't want to let my team down. He looked at the skate, and I thought I had explained the situation pretty well. He studied the placement of the blade, and noticed the missing rivets. "I think I can fix this for today," he said. "But it looks like you're going to have to get some new ones (skates) pretty soon, because the other rivets are going to let go eventually." I was so darn pleased I'd met Al, at the entrance to the garage, and that Art was willing to do a spot-weld, to get me through the afternoon game.
Art didn't charge me a nickel. Not a cent to do the repair. After he handed me back the skate, and warned me not to touch the blade, because it was still hot, I ran out the door, nearly got hit by a car, and trotted merrily all the way back home. In a flash, I was bounding back down the icy Hunt's Hill sidewalk, and soon climbing through the back alleys up to James Street, for the short trot up to the community centre. I was feeling pretty good. I made it to the dressing room a little late, as most players were dressed, but I was pretty efficient donning the pads. A few minutes before our warm-up, I stood up to adjust my pads, and check that all the straps were away from my skate blades; this was a good way to kill yourself, stepping on a leather strap at full stride. While I was standing in the dressing room, the coach asked me why I was off-kilter. I felt off-kilter as well. My left skate was the problem. The one welded by the kindly Mr. Crockford. When the coach looked down at the skate blade, he asked me to sit back down for a minute. He lifted my leg, to study something about my skate. "Did you have someone fix your skate blade Teddy," he asked. "Yes," I responded. "Art Crockford welded the blade so it wouldn't slip up into the tube." "Well son, this is going to be a problem for you today, because he didn't pull the blade out, before he welded-it in place." It was my fault you see, because when I handed him the skate, I didn't make sure that the solid blade was pulled all the way down, before being welded. So there it was. My left skate blade was higher at the front, than at the back, which made for some interesting on-ice adventures. I had no choice but to use it on that day. As my parents financial situation didn't improve for the rest of that winter season, I kept using the wonky skate, but I'll tell you one thing, the blade stayed in place until I finally retired the pair the next hockey season. Bless Art for helping a kid out of a jam. I guess, when he skated as a kid, the blades were solid iron without any tube structure whatsoever. He didn't study them close enough to see how the blade was uneven in slope. We won that game. I didn't get a shut-out, but I made some pretty good saves. My coach couldn't believe I was able to stand on the skates, let alone tend the net successfully. When I tell my sons, about "getting by," and "making do," I always spin the Art Crockford story. It was a memorable Christmas gift from a very good neighbor. Whenever I write stories about the town I knew back then, I always have folks like Art Crockford in the back of my mind; as small town role models, unsung, but always willing to help someone down on their luck. On this day, I was the recipient of his act of charity. I didn't have any money that day to pay for the welding job. I think he saw it in my eyes, that I was penniless, and heart broken about not having a pair of skates to wear for the big game. Thanks to Art, I was able to play that day, and the weld held secure for the rest of that season, playing at least three games each week, plus one practice. I can't remember thanking him that winter day. I must have, but it bothers me that I don't remember.
I know this is a simplistic overview of Bracebridge in those days, but I was a needy kid back then, so I tested the good neighbor thing many times; and got everything from free pie freshly made, to hamburgers right of the backyard barbecue, and even bikes when my parents couldn't afford to buy me one. My parents didn't like it much, when I was afforded these treats, through sincere generosity, but I had no problem accepting the kindnesses of strangers.
THE HOMESTEAD KITCHEN, THE COOK - AND SOME 1897 COOKERY WISDOM YOU MAY NOT HAVE KNOWN
SURVIVAL DEPENDED ON THE CAPABILITIES OF THE HOME COOK TO STRETCH PROVISIONS
"EMIGRATION TO THE PROVINCE OF ONTARIO - (BRITISH PUBLICATION AIMED AT POTENTIAL SETTLERS) - OUR BRITISH AND OLD COUNTRY READERS, NO DOUBT, ARE AWARE THAT THERE IS SUCH A COUNTRY AS CANADA, ALTHOUGH WHERE IT IS, AND WHAT IT IS LIKE, MANY OF THEM DO NOT KNOW, EXCEPT BY LOOKING AT A MAP OF THE AMERICAN CONTINENT. TO ALL SUCH WHO MAY DESIRE TO MEND THEIR PRESENT POSITION, TO BECOME FREEHOLDERS, INSTEAD OF LEASEHOLDERS, OR ANNUAL TENANTS, TO OWN A FARM OF THEIR OWN, INSTEAD OF SITTING UNDER THE SHADOW OF WILL OF A LANDLORD, TO THOSE WHO CANNOT GET LEASES WHATEVER THEIR IMPROVEMENTS MAY BE, AND WHO, IN SHORT, FEEL TOO INDEPENDENT FOR THEIR PRESENT POSITION, WE SAY UNHESITATINGLY, 'COME TO CANADA,' AND COME TO THE PROVINCE OF ONTARIO, CANADA. TAKE SHIPPING TO QUEBEC OR MONTREAL, THEN TAKE THE GRAND TRUNK RAILROAD FOR TORONTO, AND FROM TORONTO SET OUT ON THE IMMEDIATE EXPLORATION FOR A NEW HOME." KEEP IN MIND, A LARGE PERCENTAGE OF SETTLERS COULD NOT READ, LET ALONE UNDERSTAND DETAILS OF MAP READING. AND YES INDEED, IT IS TRUE, THAT BOTH ILLITERACY AND LANGUAGE BARRIERS (EG. ICELANDERS) CREATED HUGE OPPORTUNITIES, FOR THESE IMMIGRANTS TO BE TAKEN ADVANTAGE OF....FROM BEGINNING OF THEIR OVERSEAS JOURNEY, TO CANADA, AND INTO THE HEART OF MUSKOKA. RIPPED OFF FOR AN ENTIRE JOURNEY.
AND HOW COULD ANY POOR SOUL RESIST A LINE LIKE THIS: "ONTARIO HAS ALL SOILS, AND ALL SORTS OF SITUATIONS AVAILABLE. TO THE POOR MAN THE FREE GRANTS ARE OPEN, AND ALTHOUGH THE FOREST IS HARD TO CLEAR, YET WHEN THE SETTLER FEELS THAT EVERY STROKE OF HIS AXE IS A BLOW TOWARD INDEPENDENCE, THE LABOUR BECOMES LIGHT AND PLEASANT." THIS WAS PUBLISHED IN THE LATE 1860'S, IN ENGLAND, AND IT WAS THE PLAN, AS ENCOURAGED BY THE GOVERNMENTS OF CANADA AND ONTARIO, TO GET AS MANY IMMIGRANTS TO THE OPEN LANDS OF THE COUNTRY AS POSSIBLE. THERE WAS A TRANSCONTINENTAL RAILWAY TO JUSTIFY, TO FINANCE AND TO BUILD, AND A NEWLY POPULATED LANDSCAPE, SEA TO SEA, WAS JUSTIFICATION FOR ALL KINDS OF CAPITAL SPECULATION......(JUST IN CASE THE AMERICANS WERE PLANNING ANOTHER ATTACK, LIKE THE WAR OF 1812, THERE WOULD BE SETTLERS TO JOIN MILITIAS, TO HOLD BACK THE FOE....WITH PITCHFORKS AND AXES) THOSE GETTING MONEY FROM PUSHING THE IMMIGRATION PROJECT, INCLUDING THE STEAMSHIP AND RAIL LINES, ALL BENEFITTING FROM THE TRANSPORTATION BOOM, ATTACHED TO THE GOVERNMENT INITIATIVES, HAD NO REAL INTEREST IN WHETHER OR NOT THE PROGRAM WAS ATTRACTING THE RIGHT OR WRONG KIND OF PEOPLE, TO HOMESTEAD AN UNCOMPROMISING, WILD FRONTIER.
IT WAS ONE HELL OF AN EXPERIMENT, AND MANY LIVES WERE LOST AS A RESULT. THERE WERE TENS OF THOUSANDS OF SETTLERS, WHO SHOULD NEVER HAVE LEFT EUROPE, ARRIVING IN CANADA HAVING ABSOLUTELY NO EXPERIENCE FELLING GIANT PINE, OR RUNNING FARMSTEADS. THE GOVERNMENT OF ONTARIO, BELIEVED (AND IT IS STATED INA LATER AGRICULTURAL COMMISSION REPORT, RELEASED IN THE 1880'S) THAT BY THE 1880'S, THE HOMESTEAD GRANT EXPERIMENT HAD SUCCEEDED.....AND IT WAS ACKNOWLEDGED, LIKE SOLDIERS LOST IN WAR, THERE WOULD BE CASUALTIES OF THE EFFORT......AND BY THEIR OWN SURVEY, TWO DECADES LATER, DISCOVERED THAT THERE HAD BEEN WHAT CAN ONLY BE CONSIDERED, A FIGURE NOT EXCEEDING WHAT HAD BEEN ANTICIPATED, AS "ACCEPTABLE LOSS." THERE WERE BOUND TO BE FAILURES AND LOSS OF LIFE, AS A RESULT, OF SUCH A MASSIVE PROGRAM OF SETTLING, WHAT SOME IMMIGRANTS SAW AS A LITERAL, HJOPELESS BARRENS. OF COURSE THEY DON'T WORD IT PRECISELY THIS WAY, BUT WHAT DOES THAT MATTER. THEY WANTED TO PROVE THAT SETTLERS WOULD MAKE DO WITH WHAT POOR LAND THEY WERE AWARDED, AND IF THEY COULD ACHIEVE EVEN MODEST HOMESTEAD SUCCESS, IT WAS A WORTHY TEMPLATE, FOR THE OPENING UP OF EVEN MORE COMPROMISED TOPOGRAPHY, FURTHER NORTH AND WEST.
THERE IS NO SENSITIVITY OR INTEREST IN ANY CALCULATION OF PERCENTAGES, DOCUMENTING THOSE SETTLERS WHO REMAINED ON THEIR FREE GRANT LAND, AS COMPARED TO THOSE WHO WERE FORCED TO ABANDON THEIR PROPERTIES OR STARVE TO DEATH. HOW MANY DIED AS A DIRECT RESULT OF COMING TO CANADA, AND MUSKOKA SPECIFICALLY. SOME NEVER MADE IT OFF THE BOATS ALIVE, TRUTH BE KNOWN. HONESTLY, IT'S WHY WE HAVE SUCH A POOR UNDERSTANDING OF WHAT THE PIONEERING PERIOD MEANT IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF A TRUE MUSKOKA LIFESTYLE, FROM THE BEGINNING. IT WAS BRUTAL. THIS MUST BE UNDERSTOOD. SO WHEN I PAY MY SINCERE RESPECT, AS AN HISTORIAN, TO THOSE BRAVE SOULS, WHO STUCK IT OUT, AND LIVED TO RAISE FAMILIES ON THE SAME PROPERTY, OVER MANY GENERATIONS, I DO SO AS ONE WHO IS COMMITTED TO NEVER, EVER ALLOW THEIR STORY TO BE MINIMIZED OR OBSCURED, BY OTHER MORE POPULAR, TRENDY HISTORIES, TAKING CENTRE STAGE THESE DAYS, IN OUR REGION.
FOR ONE THING, I HAVE A GREAT AND UNFALTERING RESPECT FOR THE HOMESTEAD COOKS, WHO KEPT THEIR FAMILY MEMBERS FED.....THE BEST THEY COULD, WITH THE FEW FINANCIAL RESOURCES THEY WERE ABLE TO MUSTER. POOR IN EUROPE, POOR AND DESTITUTE IN MUSKOKA. MY IDEA OF A MUSKOKA THANKSGIVING, IS TO HONOR THESE STALWART PIONEERS WITH A WEE PRAYER OF THANKS, FOR GIVING US THE MUSKOKA WE CELEBRATE TODAY.
I DEDICATE THIS BLOG, AND THE REST OF THE THANKSGIVING-WEEK COLUMNS, IN TRIBUTE OF OUR TRUE FOUNDING MOTHERS AND FATHERS...WHO KEPT THE HOME FIRES BURNING....AND A POT OF STEW SIMMERING THROUGH THE HOMESTEAD CHRONICLE. OUR PICTURESQUE, QUAINT LITTLE CEMETERIES, AT CROSSROAD CHURCHYARDS, AND TUCKED BENEATH MAPLE AND PINE CANOPIES, CONTAIN THE TOMBSTONES OF OUR BUILDERS...OUR UNSUNG LEADERS.....COMPRISING THE TRUE SPIRIT OF CANADA. THE NATION BUILDERS WE HAVE NEGLECTED FOR LONG AND LONG.
THERE ARE ENOUGH STORIES, TALES AND LORE, OF PIONEER HARDSHIP, TO FILL A SUBSTANTIAL AND RATHER INTERESTING VOLUME OF LOCAL HISTORY. I'M THINKING ABOUT IT FOR A PROJECT SOME TIME DOWN THE ROAD. ONE AREA OF SUFFERING AND CORRESPONDING RESOURCEFULNESS (JUST TO SURVIVE ANOTHER DAY), OF WHICH I AM ESPECIALLY INTERESTED, IS OUR REGIONAL COOKERY HERITAGE; PARTICULARLY AS REGARDS THE PIONEER AND MOST ACTIVE FARMING PERIOD IN MUSKOKA.....EVEN STRETCHING INTO THE MODERN ERA. I AM A FRUSTRATED WANT-TO-BE FARMER, SO I LOOK FORWARD TO ANY OPPORTUNITY TO DELVE INTO FARM HISTORIES IN ONTARIO AND CANADA. THE UNSUNG HEROES OF HISTORY, (IN MUSKOKA, FOR THE PURPOSES OF THIS STORY) WERE THE HOMESTEAD, FARM AND CAMP COOKS, WHO OFTEN HAD TO WORK, AND MAKE DO, WITH VERY POOR AND MEAGER RESOURCES, INADEQUATE EQUIPMENT AND PROVISIONS, IN ORDER TO KEEP THEIR FAMILIES FROM STARVING TO DEATH. AND MAKE NO MISTAKE, THERE WERE SETTLERS WHO DIED AS A DIRECT RESULT OF BEING MALNOURISHED, AND SUSCEPTIBLE TO RELATED ILLNESSES. EQUALLY, ALTHOUGH YOU'D BE HARD PRESSED TO GET STATISTICS TO PROVE IT, FOOD POISONING TOOK ITS SHARE OF LIVES AS WELL. KEEPING FOOD FROM SPOILING, WAS A MAJOR DILEMMA IN THE EARLY DAYS, BEFORE ICE STORAGE WAS IMPROVED AND MADE MORE CONVENIENT FOR HOME USE.
SETTLERS BY PRECARIOUS TRIAL AND ERROR, HAD TO LEARN THROUGH BASIC IMMERSION AND EXPERIENCE, IN THE WOODLANDS, WHAT NATURAL FLORA AND FAUNA WAS EDIBLE, AND WHAT, FOR EXAMPLE, COULD PROVE TO BE FATAL IF CONSUMED. FOR EXAMPLE, WHAT TYPE OF MUSHROOM WAS EDIBLE, AND WHAT WAS POISONOUS TO HUMANS. WHICH AMOUNTED TO A "DEATH-WISH," IF ONE MADE THE MISTAKE OF MISIDENTIFICATION. I HAVE READ PIONEER ACCOUNTS OF THOSE WHO BECAME MORTALLY ILL, AFTER CONSUMING POISONOUS MUSHROOMS, OUT OF IGNORANCE AND HUNGER, AND THE DEATH WAS A LONG, PAINFULL, GUT-WRENCHING DEMISE. DESPARATION OFTEN LED TO EXPERIMENTATION, AND SICKNESS WAS THE RESULT OF NOT LISTENING, TO THE SAGE ADVICE OF OTHER NEIGHBOR SETTLERS....WHO MAY HAVE MADE THE SAME MISTAKES, AND SURVIVED, WHEN THEY FIRST ARRIVED IN THE VAST PRIMAL FORESTS OF MUSKOKA.
I'VE READ JOURNAL ACCOUNTS, REPORTING THAT EVEN BY LATE NOVEMBER, PROVISIONS WHICH WERE SUPPOSED TO LAST UNTIL SPRING, HAD DIMINISHED TO ONLY A SMALL QUANTITY OF VEGETABLES, ESPECIALLY VERSATILE POTATOES; AND I THINK IT WAS IN THE JOURNAL PENNED BY HARRIET KING, IN THE "DIARY OF AN IMMIGRANT WOMAN," THAT SHE DESCRIBES HER CONSTERNATION, WHEN AT CHRISTMAS, DURING A BRUTAL SNOWSTORM, AN ACQUAINTANCE ARRIVED AT THEIR CABIN DURING DINNER, AND THE SMALL, SIMPLE SUPPER, HAD TO BE DIVIDED TO FEED EVERYONE AROUND THE HARVEST TABLE. THERE ARE STORIES TOLD OF SETTLERS MAKING TEA, AND COFFEE FACSIMILES, FROM TREE BARK AND GRASSES. WHAT WE DON'T ALWAYS RECOGNIZE, IS THAT MUSKOKA, WHILE RICH IN WILDLIFE, COULD NOT PROVIDE ENOUGH WILD GAME TO FEED ALL THE SETTLERS, ALL OF THE TIME. I'VE TALKED TO MANY MUSEUM GROUPS, DURING HERITAGE LECTURES, ABOUT THIS FOOD SHORTAGE, AND MANY JUST CAN'T ACCEPT THAT THERE COULD HAVE BEEN ANY REASON TO DIE OF STARVATION, WHEN THERE WERE FISH TO CATCH, DEER TO SHOOT, AND BEAR, MOOSE AND BEAVER WAITING THEIR TURN FOR HARVEST. THERE IS A STORY CONTAINED IN THOMAS MCMURRAY'S 1870'S BOOK, "MUSKOKA AND PARRY SOUND," THAT REFERS TO "ROAST BEAVER," BEING SERVED AT THE END OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD "WOOL PICKING BEE."
EVEN THE ALGONQUINS, ONLY USED THE DISTRICT OF MUSKOKA, AS A SUMMER HUNTING GROUND AND ENCAMPMENT, BUT COULD NOT SUSTAIN THEMSELVES YEAR ROUND, TO MAKE THE REGION A PERMANENT LOCATION; MUCH AS THE HURONS DID TO THE SOUTH. THE PROBLEM MORE SO, WAS THAT MANY OF THE SETTLERS WHO ARRIVED HERE, FROM THE LATE 1850'S, AND THROUGH THE FREE LAND GRANT AND HOMESTEAD ACT PERIOD, WERE FROM URBAN AREAS OF EUROPE, AND HAD VERY LITTLE EXPERIENCE IN WILDERNESS SURVIVAL. AS WELL, THEY WEREN'T FARMERS IN EUROPE, AND NOT FAMILIAR WITH LOG HOUSE CONSTRUCTION, CUTTING TREES, MILLING THEM FOR HOME USE AND FURNITURE MAKING, LET ALONE PULLING UP STUMPS BY HAND (BY HORSE OR OXEN LATER ON) TO CREATE THE FARM PLOTS THAT WOULD PRODUCE ANY KIND OF TANGIBLE HARVEST, AT THE END OF THE SHORT GROWING SEASON. SO THEY HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO COUNT ON THE KINDNESS OF MORE ESTABLISHED NEIGHBORS, THE GENEROSITY OF CHURCH CONGREGATIONS, EARLY FRATERNAL ORGANIZATIONS, AND KIN FOLK, DOING BETTER THAN THEY WERE, AT THAT TIME. OF COURSE THIS COMMUNITY SHARING WAS LIMITED AS WELL, BECAUSE, SO MANY OF THIS CLASS OF HOMESTEAD SETTLER, IN THOSE FRONTIER-OPENING DAYS, FACED THE SAME DAY TO DAY DRUDGERY, AND HEARTACHE, OF BATTLING THE ELEMENTS AND THEIR OWN FETTERING TITHE OF POVERTY.
IN THE 1897 BOOK, "STEPPING STONES TO HAPPINESS," BY HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD, WHICH BY THE WAY, WAS PURCHASED FROM AN ESTATE OF AN ORIGINAL PIONEER FAMILY, THERE IS A WELL WORN CHAPTER OF THE VICTORIAN SELF-HELP BOOK, REGARDING COOKERY INSTRUCTION. IT DOES HAVE A MORE URBAN FLAVOR TO IT, THAN IF A SIMILAR SECTION HAD BEEN INCLUDED IN THOMAS MCMURRAY'S BOOK, FOR EXAMPLE; WHICH IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN, TO TRULY BE OF ASSISTANCE TO THE SETTLER CLASS. IN 1897 THE MARKET FOR MRS SPOFFORD'S BOOK WAS OBVIOUSLY THE URBAN HOUSE-WIFE, ALTHOUGH ITS INCLUSION OF HOME ECONOMY, UNDER DIFFICULT CIRCUMSTANCES, DID APPEAL TO THE HOMESTEAD COOKS AS WELL. THE ONLY THING STANDING IN THE WAY, WAS HAVING ENOUGH MONEY TO BUY THE BOOK IN THE FIRST PLACE. DUE TO ITS CHRISTIAN THEME, OF LIVING HEALTHY AND CONTENTED, IN GOD'S GARDEN, SOME FAMILIES DECIDED IT WAS MORE IMPORTANT TO HAVE THE TEXT, THAN FACE THE BLEAK FUTURE WITHOUT. I EXPECT THIS COOKERY CHAPTER WAS VERY WELL USED BY THE HOMESTEAD COOK. I DETECT SOME SMUDGES OF GREASE AND JUICES, FROM VENISON OR RABBIT; BASS OR TROUT; FRESHLY MADE BUTTER FROM THE SINGLE COW, GRAZING IN A MODEST PASTURE.
"BUT THERE ARE VARIOUS OTHER WAYS IN WHICH THE ENGLISHWOMAN CAN GIVE US LESSONS IN ECONOMY. IT IS SAFE TO SAY THAT NOTHING IS WASTED UNDER HER CARE. EVEN HER STALE BEER IS SAVED TO RINSE HER BRONZES IN, TO BOIL WITH OTHER MATERIAL AND MAKE HER OLD PLATE LOOK LIKE NEW, AND TO CLEAN HER SOILED BLACK SILKS; AND THE LEMONS WHOSE OUTER SKIN HAS BEEN GRATED OFF, AND WHOSE JUICE HAS BEEN SQUEEZED OUT, IF THEY ARE NOT LAID ASIDE TO BOIL IN ANY COMPOUND, ARE GIVEN TO THE COOK TO CLEAN HER SAUCEPAN. IF SHE KEEPS FOWL, EVERY EGG BROUGHT IN IS DATED WITH A PENCIL, AND THOSE OF THE EARLIER DATE ARE USED FIRST; IF THERE ARE ANY TO BE SPARED, SHE LAYS THEM BY FOR WINTER PROVISION, USUALLY BY PASSING OVER THEM A CAMEL'S HAIR PENCIL, DIPPED IN OIL, WHICH HERMETICALLY SEALS AND PRESERVES THEIR CONTENTS; AND WHERE SHE USES ONLY THE WHITES IN ONE DISH, SHE CONTRIVES ANOTHER IN WHICH SHE SHALL USE THE YOLKS. IF THE BREAD HAS BECOME DRY, SHE DOES NOT IMMEDIATELY THROW IT TO THE HENS OR DEDICATE IT TO A PUDDING; SHE DIPS THE LOAF IN HOT WATER, AND SETS IT IN THE OVEN, AND FINDS IT SUFFICIENTLY FRESH FOR FAMILY USE. NOR DOES SHE OFTEN INDULGE IN THE DOUBTFUL LUXURY OF BAKER'S BREAD, SINCE SHE HAS LEARNED THAT SHE THEREBY LOSES IN BREAD, JUST THE WEIGHT OF THE WATER USED IN COMPOUNDING IT, BESIDES RUNNING THE RISK OF DELETERIOUS INGREDIENTS. AND WHEN THE BREAD IS REALLY DRIED PAST FRESHENING, THEN IT ANSWERS FOR STUFFING, IS GRATED FOR CRUMBS, OR IS SOAKED WITH MILK AND BEATEN EGGS FOR PUDDINGS; NONE OF IT IS THROWN AWAY.
"SHE IS EQUALLY ECONOMICAL CONCERNING THE HAM; WHEN NO MORE SLICES CAN BE CUT FROM THE BONE, THERE IS YET A SMALL QUANTITY OF DRY MEAT UPON IT THAT WOULD SEEM TO MOST OF OUR HOUSEKEEPERS AS SOMETHING RATHER WORTHLESS. NOT SO TO THIS GOOD WOMEN; IT IS DRIED A LITTLE FURTHER, AND THEN GRATED FROM THE BONE, AND PUT AWAY IN JARS, TO BE TAKEN OUT AND SEASONED ON REQUIREMENT FOR ENRICHMENT OF OMELETS, FOR SPREADING UPON SAVORY DISHES OF TOAST WHICH MAKE A NICE ADDITION TO BREAKFAST OR LUNCH; FOR STUFFING OLIVES AND MAKING SANDWICHES, AFTER WHICH GRATING THE BONE SERVES TO FLAVOR SOUP. IN THE SAME WAY SHE GRATES HER CHEESE THAT IS TOO DRY OR NEAR THE RIND, USING IT AFTERWARD AS A RELISH, OR AS A DRESSING TO MACARONI OR OTHER SUBSTANCE. ALL BONES, MEANWHILE, AS WELL AS THE HAM BONE, ARE OBJECTS OF CARE WITH HER, OR WITH THE SERVANTS, WHOM SHE HAS TRAINED TO HER WILL, AND ARE REGULARLY BOILED DOWN TO ADD THE RESULT TO THE STOCK POT FOR GRAVIES AND SOUPS, BY WHICH MEANS SHE PROCURES THE LATTER, AT ALMOST NO COST AT ALL. WHENEVER SHE HAS A FEW SLICES OF HETEROGENOUS COLD MEATS, SHE HAS COUNTLESS PALATABLE WAYS OF USING THEM; DEVILED, BROILED IN BATTER, SCALLOPED, MINCED INTO CROQUETTES OR MAYONNAISE."
MRS SPOFFORD WRITES, IN HER ADVISORY TO COOKS IN TRAINING, "AS A GENERAL, ALTHOUGH NOT UNIVERSAL THING, AMONG OURSELVES, WHEN THESE STRAY BITS OF BONES ARE NOT THROWN AWAY, THEY ARE GIVEN AWAY; BUT THE LATTER IS NOT THE ENGLISH WOMAN'S IDEA OF CHARITY; SHE HOLDS THAT THE POOR, UNACCUSTOMED TO DAINTY FOOD, FIND A COARSER KIND QUITE AS AGREEABLE AS THE LEAVINGS OF HER TABLE; SHE PREPARES ESPECIALLY FOR THEM, SAVING ALL LIQUORS (LIQUID) IN WHICH THE MEATS HAVE BEEN BOILED, AS A BASE FOR BROTHS OF BARLEY AND PEAS, THAT ARE REGULARLY DISPENSED, WITH TEA LEAVES AND COFFEE GROUNDS DRIVED OVER, AND FROM WHICH A SECOND DRAUGHT CAN BE MADE, WITH OATMEAL, VEGETABLES AND DRIPPING. DRIPPING, BY THE WAY, FORMS NO INCONSIDERABLE ITEM IN THIS SORT OF ECONOMY; IT IS SKIMMED FROM EVERY POT AND SAVED FROM EVERY PAN, AND WHEN A SUFFICIENT QUANTITY ACCUMULATES IT IS CLARIFIED BY POURING BOILING WATER UPON IT, MIXING IT WELL, AND PUTTING IT BY TO 'SET'THE SEDIMENT, GOING TO THE BOTTOM WHEN COLD, LEAVING A HARD CLEAN CAKE, WHICH IS USEFUL ON DOMESTIC OCCASIONS, WHERE BUTTER OR LARD WOULD BE USED, AS THE 'SHORTENING' OF MEAT PIE CRUSTS AND GINGERBREAD, AND FOR COMMON BASTING AND FRYING."
"SOME HOUSEKEEPERS, TO BE SURE, WHO ARE ABLE TO LIVE MORE SUMPTUOUSLY, ABANDON THIS TO THE COOK, BY WHOM IT IS CLAIMED AS A PREQUISITE, AND VALUED AS AN EQUIVALENT OF LARGE EXTRA WAGES. BEYOND THIS SYSTEM OF SAVING ON A SMALL SCALE AND DOING IT SO REGULARLY, AND SO PRECISELY THAT IT BECOMES SECOND NATURE; AND IS DONE WITH AS LITTLE EXTRA THOUGHT, AS THERE IS GIVEN TO THE PARING OF THE POTATOES. THE ENGLISH HOUSEKEEPER GOES FURTHER, IN DEALING OUT TO HER SERVANTS THE WEEK'S ALLOWANCE OF SUGAR, RICE, FLOUR, COFFEE, AND OTHER OTHER HOUSEHOLD PROVISION, THAT IS KEPT IN QUANTITY, AND REQUIRING AN ACCOUNT OF IT ALL TO BE RENDERED, THE THING HAVING BEN BROUGHT TO SUCH A FINE POINT, THAT SHE KNOWS THE EXACT AMOUNT OF EACH ARTICLE REQUISITE FOR HER FAMILY, ALLOWING SO MUCH TO EACH INDIVIDUAL, AND THAT QUANTITY BEING SUFFICIENT, AS SHE KNOWS BY EXPERIENCE; TWO OUNCES FOR TEA, FOR INSTANCE, BEING REGARDED AS A WEEK'S SUPPLY FOR EACH SINGLE INDIVIDUAL, ONE HALF POUND OF SUGAR, THREE AND ONE HALF POUNDS OF MEAT FOR A WOMAN, AND FIVE AND A QUARTER FOR A MAN - FACTS WHICH THE HOUSEKEEPER PROBABLY LEARNED FROM HER MOTHER, AND FROM HER MOTHER BEFORE HER - KNOWING MOREOVER, THAT THE GREATER VARIETY OF FOOD OFFERED, DIMINISHES THE QUANTITY OF THE SIMPLER KINDS REQUIRED. ALL OF THESE STORES SHE SETS DOWN IN HER HOUSEKEEPING BOOK AS SHE GIVES THEM OUT, AND SHE DOES NOT FAIL ON THE NEXT DISPENSING DAY TO CONSULT HER DATES, AND IF ANYTHING BE LEFT OVER IN THE COOK'S HANDS, NOT ACCOUNTED FOR, TO SUBTRACT THAT FROM THE AMOUNT TO BE NEWLY ISSUED. AND IN ENGLAND SERVANTS EXPECT THIS, SO FAR FROM BEING INDIGNANT WITH IT, THEY WOULD FEEL AS IF THERE WERE NO GUIDING HAND BEHIND THEM, WERE IT LEFT UNDONE, AND THEY GIVEN THEIR HEAD IN AN OVERFLOWING STORE-ROOM, AS SERVANTS ARE WITH US. IN FACT, THERE IS NO SAVING WHICH THE HOUSEWIFE ACROSS THE WATER, CONSIDERS TOO SMALL TO PRACTICE, OR AS BENEATH HER DIGNITY; AND WHEN WE SHALL HAVE FOLLOWED HER EXAMPLE IN HER PET ECONOMIES, MORE GENERALLY THAN WE FOLLOW IT AT PRESENT, WE SHALL HAVE MORE RIGHT AND MORE ABILITY TO INDULGE OURSELVES IN OUR PET EXTRAVAGANCES OTHERWISE."
AS FOR THE HOMEMAKER, "THE CHIEF OF THE HOUSEHOLD CARES, IS ALWAYS THE COOK. SHE IS VERY SELDOM IN THE ORDINARY FAMILY, OR IN THAT OF NARROW MEANS, WHAT SHE SHOULD BE, AND HER SHORTCOMINGS DO A GREAT DEAL TO BRING ABOUT THE CHANGES FROM THE BLACK BIRD TO THE GRAY. THERE IS NO ONE WAY TO OVERCOME INCOMPETENCY THAT I HAVE OFTEN WONDERED WAS NOT MORE GENERALLY PURSUED. THERE EXISTS NOW IN MOST OF OUR LARGE CITIES GOOD AND EFFECTIVE TRAINING SCHOOLS FOR SERVANTS OF ALL CLASSES AND CAPACITIES, AND, BESIDES THESE, VARIOUS PERSONS OF SKILL AND RENOWN IN CULINARY MATTERS ADVERTISE LESSONS IN COOKERY; STANDING READY, ON CERTAIN AFTERNOONS OF THE WEEK, TO IMPART TO THE CLASS OF THE HOUR ALL THAT THEY KNOW ON THE SUBJECT, EVEN ANNOUNCING IN THEIR ADVERTISEMENTS THE DISHES TO BE PREPARED THAT DAY - FIFTY CENTS ADMISSION, AND SOMETIMES NOT SO MUCH."
ALTHOUGH THIS PIECE, BY THE CLEVER MRS. SPOFFORD, WAS WRITTEN MUCH LATER THAN THE ACTUAL HOMESTEAD GRANT PERIOD, OF SETTLEMENT IN MUSKOKA, IT STILL WOUND UP IN THE LATER FARMSTEADS OF THIS PART OF ONTARIO. AS FOR GETTING COOKING INSTRUCTIONS, I WOULD IMAGINE THAT THE OPPORTUNITIES IN THIS AREA, IN 1897 WERE SLIM TO NONE....AND IT WAS THE GOOD GRACES OF KIND NEIGHBORS AND FAMILY, WHO EDUCATED ONE ANOTHER ABOUT COOKERY QUANTITIES AND QUALITIES....HANDED-DOWN ADVICE ON HOW TO MAKE THE MOST OF MODEST PROVISIONS.
WHEN I USED TO WANDER THROUGH THE REGION, LOOKING FOR HOMESTEAD SITES TO EXPLORE, I ALWAYS GOT A LITTLE HEARTSICK, WHEN I'D FIND MYSELF STANDING IN THE PATHETIC, LATE-LIFE REMAINS, OF THE FARMSTEAD KITCHEN; LOOKING SO EMPTY AND UNSTORIED, WHEN QUITE THE OPPOSITE HELD TRUE. I OFTEN GOT MY BEST FEATURE STORY IDEAS, HOVERING IN THE RUINS, EXAMINING THE REMAINS OF OLD CUPBOARDS, AND CABINETS, BROKEN DISHES AND THREE LEGGED HARVEST TABLES, THEN TOPPLED OVER; THE OLD NEWSPAPERS UNDER THE FLOOR SURFACING, DATING THE TIME PERIOD OF THAT PARTICULAR HOME IMPROVEMENT. THERE WOULD BE TYPICAL SIGNS OF WILDLIFE HABITATION, POSSIBLY A PORCUPINE THAT HAD BEEN GNAWING AT THE CHAIR LEGS, SQUIRRELS AND CHIPMUNKS NOW CALLING THE RUINS HOME. YET I COULD VISUALIZE THE HOMEMAKER WORKING AWAY IN THIS KITCHEN, WITH THE LARGE, NOW-GLASSLESS WINDOW, LOOKING OUT ONTO THE GROWN-OVER GARDEN AND PASTURE; WITH THE REMAINS OF FARM BUILDINGS NO LONGER UPRIGHT. DESPITE WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE, AND WHAT CARNAGE HAD OCCURRED, SINCE ITS ABANDONMENT, SO MANY OF THESE OLD RUINS HELD CLOSE TO THE REMAINING HEARTH, THAT STRANGELY FAMILIAR AURA, AND HOLLOW ECHO, OF FAMILY HISTORY, FROM ALL THOSE WHO ONCE DWELLED WITHIN;....THOSE WHO JOYFULLY, IN GOOD CHEER, CELEBRATED SPECIAL OCCASIONS AND HOLIDAYS TOGETHER; WHO HELD ONTO EACH OTHER DURING PERIODS OF ILLNESS AND SUDDEN DEATH; PEOPLE WHO LOVED AND
WERE LOVED, AMALGAMATED WITH SO MANY HOPES, ASPIRATIONS, AND SUCCESSES; THE SORROW OF FAILURE AND LOSS, MIXED WITH THE HAPPINESS AND CONTENTMENT, DURING A FINE MEAL WITH FAMILY AND NEIGHBORS, WHERE THIS OLD PINE TABLE WAS "GROANING" FROM THE WEIGHT OF EDIBLE BOUNTY. A GOOD HARVEST. OF ALL THE ROOMS IN THE OLD FARMSTEAD, IT IS THE KITCHEN THAT I AM COMPELLED TO DAWDLE. THE ROOM I FIND MOST HAUNTED; THE PART OF THE HOUSE THE RESIDENT SPIRITS WANT THIS INTRUDER TO KNOW MORE ABOUT, AS IF IT, OR THEY, KNOW MY INTENTION IS TO WRITE ABOUT IT.....GIVING IT, AT LONG LAST, AN HISTORICAL RELEVANCE; SO FAR DENIED, EXCEPT IN LIVES LIVED; THE CHILDREN AND GRANDCHILDREN RAISED FROM THESE HUMBLE QUARTERS, HERE IN THE MUSKOKA HEARTLAND. IT IS THE ROOM I LOOK BACK INTO, ON THE WAY OUT, SWEARING SOMEONE WAS WATCHING ME FROM WITHIN....BUT NEVER CAUSING AN AIR OF ILL EASE FOR THE INTRUDER. I MIGHT STOP FOR A MOMENT, ONCE OUTSIDE, AND LOOK BACK, EXPECTING TO SEE A FACE IN THE WINDOW, WHERE THE KITCHEN WAS, BUT ALAS, THERE IS ONLY THE DARK VOID OF AN HISTORIAN'S WISHFUL THINKING.
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