GRAVENHURST IS A PLACE OF BENEVOLENCE, AND I LIKE THAT ABOUT MY HOME TOWN

A lone homestead on an abandon farm -  This abandon farm house located on the McArthur Side Road and Cronk Side Road near the boundary of Ramara Township and The Town of Gravenhurst could tell many stories of the family who grew up in days gone by.  (Photo By Fred Schulz)

Thanksgiving Sunday -  The picturesque Windermere United Church, Part of the Evergreen Pastoral Charge stands proudly with it’s beautiful stonework and impressive steeple.  The perfect fall Thanksgiving Weekend Weather along with the remaining golden leaves create the ideal backdrop. (Photo By Fred Schulz)

HAPPY THANKSGIVING FROM THE HEART OF GRAVENHURST - HOPE YOU'VE HAD A GOOD WEEKEND SO FAR

MUSKOKA IN ALL KINDS OF WEATHER - THE JOY OF DISTINCT SEASONS

    I WAS JUST ABOUT TO LAY MY HANDS ON A NICE, PLUMP TOM TURKEY, IN THE GROCERY STORE COOLER, WHICH I SWEAR WAS BIGGER THAN "TINY TIM," WHEN SUDDENLY, AND WITHOUT ANY REAL REMINISCENCE, OUT OF THE ORDINARY, I HAD SUCH A VIVID THOUGHT ABOUT MY PARENTS, MERLE AND ED; WONDERING ALOUD TO SUZANNE, IF THE TURKEY WAS GOING TO BE BIG ENOUGH.  "TED, THERE'S ONLY FOUR OF US NOW," SHE SAID. "IT'S WAY TOO BIG. WE'D BE EATING TURKEY FOR A MONTH." I BEGGED HER FORGIVENESS, WHEN I ANSWERED, "I DON'T CARE HOW BIG IT IS; WE'RE GETTING THIS BIRD. IT'S A TRADITION. YOU KNOW I HATE BREAKING TRADITION." SHE LOOKED AT ME, SHOOK HER HEAD, AND WENT OFF TO FIND AN ALUMINUM ROASTING TRAY, BIG ENOUGH FOR MY "GOOD OLD DAYS" SENTIMENTAL TURKEY.

    MERLE AND ED WERE WILD ABOUT THANKSGIVING, CHRISTMAS AND EASTER, ESPECIALLY FOR THE BOYS, WHO THEY ALWAYS TREATED LIKE ROYALTY. WE HABITUALLY GRAB A BIG TURKEY, EVEN THOUGH OUR FAMILY HAS DIMINISHED OVER THE YEARS,TO ONLY FOUR SOULS TODAY. SUZANNE'S MOTHER HARRIET DIED SHORTLY BEFORE THANKSGIVING, A HALF YEAR BEFORE SON ANDREW WAS BORN, AND NORMAN PASSED AWAY IN OCTOBER 2002.  MERLE WAS THE NEXT TO CROSS OVER, AND THEN ED. BUT IT'S STILL HARD, AFTER ALL THESE YEARS, TO PLAN SUCH A FESTIVE OCCASION, AND NOT LOOK REGRETFULLY ON THOSE THREE EMPTY CHAIRS.....THAT SIMPLY SHOULD BE OCCUPIED. I DO MISS THOSE FAMILY DINNERS, BUT WE CARRY ON IN THE SAME TRADITION, AND HOPE ONE DAY, THERE WILL BE GRANDCHILDREN AND SIGNIFICANT OTHERS, ADDING MORE PLATES AND CHAIRS TO THE HARVEST TABLE.

     IT'S A SAD TIME OF YEAR FOR A LOT OF FOLKS, WHO HAVE LOST FAMILY AND CLOSE FRIENDS, AND SIMILARLY, LIKE THIS BIG SOFTY, BECOME A LITTLE MELANCHOLY, WHEN OLD AND FAMILIAR CARS NO LONGER PULL UP THE DRIVE, OR THE ANTICIPATED KNOCK ON THE DOOR NEVER HAPPENS, AS IT HAD FOR LONG AND LONG, ON THIS FAMILY OCCASION. THIS CAN BE A PONDEROUS CHAIN INDEED, LINKED TOGETHER BY THE INTRICACIES OF LIFE AND LIVING, OF WHICH WE HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO HAUL ALONG OUR PATH.  WE DO OUR BEST TO HONOR THE MEMORY OF  LOST PARTNERS, AND CHILDREN, BY PRAYING FOR THEM; HEARTILY CELEBRATING THEIR CONTRIBUTIONS TO US, DURING THEIR BRIGHT LIVES. IT'S A TIME TO ALLOW SENTIMENTALITY TO RUN ITS COURSE, AND CELEBRATE WHAT HAS BEEN, AND IN TURN, MAINTAIN THE FAITH; THERE IS SO MUCH YET TO EXPERIENCE THAT IS GOOD AND POSITIVE.

     I WANT TO THANK ALL THE KIND FOLKS IN OUR COMMUNITY, THE CHURCHES, CHARITIES, SERVICE CLUBS, FOOD BANK, RESTAURANTS, THAT SO GENEROUSLY PARTICIPATED IN FOOD DRIVES, AND PUT ON TURKEY DINNERS, FOR THOSE WITHOUT THE ABILITY TO PROVIDE SUCH A MEAL FOR THEMSELVES.  THERE IS A POWERFUL SPIRIT OF BENEVOLENCE IN THIS COMMUNITY, MANY DON'T KNOW ABOUT.....BECAUSE IT MANIFESTS QUIETLY AMONGST ITS PARTNERS,  AND WITHOUT PUBLICITY OR PUBLIC RECOGNITION, BEING BESTOWED. I'VE SEEN IT UP CLOSE MANY TIMES, AND IT'S WONDERFUL TO KNOW HOW CARING WE ARE AS A HOME TOWN. THEIR GENEROSITY HAS MADE MANY LOCAL CITIZENS CHEERFUL THIS THANKSGIVING, AND PROVIDED EXTRA SUPPLIES OF GROCERY ITEMS, TO SUSTAIN THEM OVER THE COMING WEEKS.  THESE KIND SOULS AREN'T DOING THIS FOR RECOGNITION. THEY'RE DOING IT BECAUSE THERE'S A SERIOUS NEED, AND IT'S NOT GOING TO ABATE ON ITS OWN. SO THANK YOU, VOLUNTEERS, FOR ASSISTING THOSE IN NEED....TIME AND TIME AGAIN.

     

     OUT FOR A LATE NIGHT STROLL, WITH BOSKO, I FOUND IT HARD TO COME BACK INDOORS. THERE WAS A VEILED MOONLIGHT OVER THE FOGGY MOOR, AYE, AND IT WAS AN AUTUMN EVENING WITH A SWEET AROMA, EVEN WITH THE WOODSMOKE OF A HOME-FIRE. IT WAS SCENTED OF FALLEN LEAVES AND DRIED FLOWER STALKS IN THE GARDEN. ONE MINUTE IT SMELLED LIKE THE OPEN LAKE, AND THEN, A FEW STEPS ALONG THE LEAF-COVERED WALK, I COULD SENSE A LIGHT MUSTINESS, COMING FROM THE POOLING WATER, A SMALL INCLINE  ABOVE THE BOG. THERE WAS A TRAIN HORN BLARING, ITS HAUNTING ECHO, SOMEWHERE OFF IN THE DISTANCE, AND THE FAMILIAR BARKING OF A NEIGHBOR'S DOG. I BRUSHED THE LEAVES OFF ONE OF TWO LAWNCHAIRS STILL ON THE UPPER DRIVEWAY, AND SAT FOR AWHILE, BOSKO SETTLING TO LAY ON MY FEET. IT WAS A PERFECT EVENING JUST AS IT WAS; NO RUMBLE OF TRUCKS NEARBY, NO LEAF BLOWERS, CHAINSAWS OR JACK-HAMMERS. JUST THE CALMING SOUNDS OF MY OLD DOG SCRATCHING AT A FLEA ON HIS EAR, AND THE TRICKLE OF WATER, FROM A SPRING, INTO A DEEP POOL JUST ACROSS THE LANE.

     I WAS THINKING ABOUT MY TRAVELLING DAYS, WHEN I'D FIND MYSELF SITTING ON THE EDGE OF ROBIN HOOD'S SHERWOOD FOREST, IN NOTTINGHAM,  PONDERING IF INSPIRATIONAL LEISURE COULD EVER BEAT THIS HISTORIC SOJOURN. SEEING AS I'VE BEEN WRITING SINCE PUBLIC SCHOOL, AND LIVING LIKE A WRITER EVER SINCE, I MUST CONFESS BOUTS OF BURDENSOME DEPRESSION, IF I CAN'T FIND A COMFORTABLE PORTAL FROM WHICH TO WORK. I MIGHT NOT HAVE HAD A PAD, ON WHICH TO PEN SOMETHING, ON THAT NIGHT IN SHERWOOD FOREST, BUT I WAS MAKING COPIOUS NOTES NONE THE LESS. I HAVE HAD SIMILAR EXPERIENCES, IN THE CITY OF YORK, AND LUTON, ON THE MOTOR TRIP FROM LONDON.  I FELT LIKE WRITING, AND I KNOW BETTER THAN TO MESS WITH A MOMENT OF INSPIRATION;  BECAUSE LIKE A CURSE, I'VE ALSO HAD TO DEAL WITH STALEMATE AND SENSELESS PROCRASTINATION, THOUSANDS OF TIMES IN MY PROFESSION. I COULD BE IN THE MOST SERENE LOCATION IN THE WORLD, SURROUNDED BY ART AND HISTORY, AND FRUSTRATE MYSELF INTO A RAGE, BECAUSE NONE OF THAT PARTICULAR CIRCUMSTANCE GENERATES THE ENTHUSIASM, TO FILL THE WHITE PAPER WITH LOTS OF INK. IT'S RARE, BECAUSE FOR MOST OF MY WRITING YEARS, I'VE WORKED IN AN ENVIRONMENT OF DEADLINES AND NEWSPAPER PROTOCOLS, WHERE HAVING A WRITING HIATUS MEANS UNEMPLOYMENT; OR AN UNPAID CONTRACT. ON THE CREATIVE LEVEL HOWEVER, THAT HAS NO STRICT DEADLINE, I AM AT THE MERCY OF THE LOCATION FROM WHICH I'M WORKING AT THAT TIME.

     AS A TEENAGER, ACCOMPANYING MY PARENTS TO FLORIDA EACH WINTER, I USED TO WANDER AWAY TO PONCE INLET, SOUTH OF DAYTONA BEACH, WHERE I'D TAKE A WEE LUNCH, AND LOTS OF PAPER, AND LODGE MY BEHIND IN THE SOFT SAND OF THE UPPER BEACH. I'D WATCH THE ATLANTIC OCEAN DO ITS THING, IN ALL KINDS OF WEATHER. THERE WAS A LIGHTHOUSE THERE, AND I FELT THIS WAS A SIMILAR SCENE, AS TO WHAT AMERICAN POET, WALLACE STEVENS INTERPRETED, IN MY FAVORITE POEM OF HIS, "THE IDEA OF ORDER AT KEY WEST." I STILL POSSESS SOME REMNANTS OF THOSE EARLY WRITING FORAYS, JAMMED INTO A FILE FOLDER IN MY ARCHIVES, BUT I HAVEN'T CONSULTED THEM IN YEARS. WHEN I CONSULT THEM OUT OF CURIOSITY,  I WILL READ THROUGH THE PILE, AND BE SATISFIED THEY WERE  DECENT TRAINING PIECES. IF I'M LOOKING FOR STORY IDEAS, AND STYLE DEVIATIONS, LIKE A VAMPIRE SWOOPING DOWN ON ANYTHING WITH FOOD SUPPLY, I WILL TRY TO SUCK OUT A FEW IDEAS TO PURSUE. THIS IS THE HEIGHT OF DESPERATION, AND SUZANNE SAYS THAT I START ACTING LIKE THE DRUNKARD, WHO RAGES IN THE HOLLYWOOD FLICK "THE LOST WEEKEND." EXCEPT I'M NOT LOOKING FOR BOOZE (AT LEAST THESE DAYS), JUST A TRIGGER TO GET ME OVER THE HUMP, SO TO SPEAK. I'M NOT THIS WAY VERY OFTEN, AND I'LL TELL YOU WHY.

     WELL, FOR ME, IT STARTED AS A SNOTTY NOSED LITTLE BUGGER, WHO USED TO HAUNT AND TAUNT HIS ALICE STREET NEIGHBORS, GROWING UP IN BRACEBRIDGE. I WAS A STRANGE KID AND I BECAME A STRANGER ADULT, BUT BESIDES THIS, I HAD A LOT OF QUIRKS ABOUT THINGS, SOME SEEDED BY MY MOTHER MERLE'S SUPERSTITIOUS CHARACTER; WHICH I'VE MENTIONED NUMEROUS TIMES IN THE PAST FEW WEEKS. NOT ONLY DID I PICK UP SOME OF HER SUPERSTITIOUS BELIEFS, WHICH WERE PRETTY FUNNY, I DEVELOPED A FEW OF MY OWN, WHICH WERE SPORTS RELATED. FOR EXAMPLE, I WAS A GOALTENDER THROUGHOUT MY MINOR HOCKEY YEARS. I ADOPTED MANY OF THE SUPERSTITIOUS BELIEFS OF OTHER SENIOR AND NATIONAL HOCKEY LEAGUE GOALIES, LIKE HAVING TO TAP THE GOAL POSTS, THREE TIMES ON EACH SIDE, AFTER EVERY PLAY STOPPAGE. I BELIEVED A GOAL WOULD BE SCORED ON ME, IF I INTENTIONALLY OR INADVERTENTLY LOOKED AT THE SCORE CLOCK, TO SEE HOW MUCH TIME WAS LEFT IN THE PERIOD. I HAD TO CLEAR ANY ICE CHIPS OR SNOW BUILD-UP IN MY CREASE, EVEN IF THERE WASN'T ANYTHING ON THE ICE BUT DROPLETS OR FUZZ FROM MY FALLING-APART PADS. IT WAS HABITUAL, AND AGAIN, IF I DIDN'T DO IT REGULARLY, I BELIEVED IT WOULD HERALD A BARRAGE OF GOALS. AND IF ANYONE MENTIONED THE WORLD "SHUTOUT," THE OPPOSITION WOULD SCORE A GOAL IN THE COMING FIVE MINUTES. MOST OF THE TIME, FOLKS, THIS WAS THE CASE. WHICH IS REALLY BAD FOR A SUPERSTITIOUS GUY, BECAUSE IT ENFORCES THESE FEARS AS REALITY; AND IT MAKES EVERYTHING MORE ACUTE AND HARD TO LIVE WITH. "I TOLD YOU THAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN," I'D TELL MY TEAM-MATES ABOUT CONGRATULATING ME, ON A SHUT-OUT THAT WAS STILL PENDING, BY ONE PERIOD OF PLAY. THE COACH CALLED IT THE "CURSE OF OVER-CONFIDENCE."

     IN BASEBALL, I ALWAYS HAD TO BORROW GLOVES FROM OTHER PLAYERS, AND THE COACH ONE DAY, GAVE ME AN OPTION…..GET A GLOVE AND YOU CAN STAY ON THE TEAM. IF NOT, "SEE YOU!" IT'S HARD TO EXPLAIN TO OTHER ADULTS, THAT YOUR PARENTS CAN'T AFFORD TO BUY ONE, BECAUSE IT'S SO BLOODY HUMBLING AND EMBARRASSING TO MY PARENTS, IN THEIR OWN ABSENCE. IN A SMALL TOWN, THESE TIDBITS OF INFORMATION GET AROUND, AND POTENTIALLY BACK TO MY PARENTS AND THEIR EMPLOYERS. SO I INTERNALIZED IT, AND FOUND ENOUGH MONEY, TO BUY A CHEAP GLOVE AT BAMFORD'S VARIETY STORE, UP ON TORONTO STREET. IT WAS BIG ENOUGH, BUT IT WAS SHALLOW ON PADDING IN THE KEY AREAS. IT COST FIFTEEN DOLLARS, BACK IN THE LATE 1960'S, BUT AS SOON AS I SHOWED UP AT JUBILEE PARK, TO PLAY IN THAT EVENING'S GAME, THE PLAYERS AND COACH STARTED TO LAUGH ABOUT THE STUPID, CHEAP, CRAPPY, NO GOOD GLOVE I INTENDED TO USE. IN FACT, THE COACH TOOK IT OFF MY HAND, AND GAVE ME HIS PRACTICE GLOVE INSTEAD. NOW THAT WAS INSULTING, AND I NEVER FORGAVE THE MAN.

     EVENTUALLY, I WAS ABLE TO SHOW MY TEAM-MATES THAT I COULD MAKE SOME PRETTY AMAZING CATCHES, WITH THIS UNPADDED LEATHER MITT. YOU SEE, AS MY FATHER TOLD ME, THE IDEA IS TO CATCH THE BALL IN THE WEBBING, AND NOT THE PALM. IF YOU CAUGHT IT THERE, YOU WEREN'T, AT LEAST IN HIS BOOKS, A COMPETENT BALL PLAYER. HE SHOULD HAVE KNOWN, BECAUSE HE WAS CONSIDERED ONE OF THE BEST FASTBALL PITCHERS IN HIS YOUTH, AND IN THEN SENIOR PLAY, IN TORONTO AND BURLINGTON. I WATCHED HIM. HE HAD A NEAT UNDER-ARM WHIP, INSTEAD OF THE MORE COMMON, "OVER THE SHOULDER" MOTION, AND THE BALL WAS JUST A BLUR COMING OUT OF HIS HAND. SO WHEN HE PITCHED TO ME, IN OUR FRONT YARD, UP AT THE WEBER APARTMENTS, MY HAND WOULD STING WICKEDLY, IF I DIDN'T CATCH THE BALL PROPERLY……MEANING, THE BALL HIT THE WEBBING WHERE THERE WAS NO HUMAN FLESH IN THE WAY. SO I LEARNED TO CATCH PROPERLY, OUT OF FEAR OF HAVING THE BONES OF MY HAND SHATTERED. SOME GLOVES, YOU SEE, HAD ALMOST LUXURIOUS EXTRA PADDING IN THE PALM, AND AS ED EXPLAINED TO ME, IT WAS A RECIPE FOR BOBBLED BALLS. THE MEAT OF THE HAND AND THE PADDING, MADE THE INCOMING BALLS KICK BACK, INSTEAD OF SUCKING INTO THE DEEP POCKET. YOU KNOW, I USED THAT GLOVE THROUGH MY ENTIRE MINOR BASEBALL ADVENTURE. GET THIS! IN THE WINTER, AGAINST MY HOCKEY COACH'S ADVICE, I HAND CRAFTED MY BASEBALL GLOVE INTO A TRAPPER, WITH A PROTECTIVE, PADDED SLEEVE TO SAVE MY WRIST FROM BEING SHATTERED. THE ONLY REASON I STOPPED USING IT, WAS BECAUSE I STARTED TO GET MORE SLAPSHOTS IN THE PALM, DUE TO THE NATURE OF OF PUCK-STOPPING; VERSUS PLAYING THE FIELD, IN BASEBALL, EAILY CATCHING POP FLIES, IN THE WEBBING.

     THE REASON FOR INCLUDING THIS EDITORIAL PADDING, FOR TODAY'S BLOG, IS TO POINT OUT, THAT I STILL HAVE A STATUS QUO, QUIRKY, WHACKY ATTACHMENT TO THOSE COMFORTS OF HOME AND LANDSCAPE, THAT DICTATE IF I WILL BE ABLE TO SIT DOWN AT THIS KEYBOARD, AND PUT ANY BLACK PRINT ON THIS HUGE….AND I MEAN HUGE, WHITE SCREEN. MY BIGGEST ISSUE IS WITH THE VIEW FROM HERE, THE CHAIR I'M LODGED IN, AND THE BITS AND PIECES OF ART WORK AND MEMORABILIA WITHIN THE GENERAL VICINITY. WHEN I WAS WORKING ON A STRAIGHT HISTORICAL RESEARCH AND WRITING JAG LAST YEAR, FOR A LOCAL GOLF AND CURLING CLUB, I COULD GET BY WITH THE BASICS OF EQUIPMENT AND PERSONAL LUXURIES. WHEN I'M WORKING ON MY COUNCIL CRITIQUES, SIMILARLY, I WOULD SIT ON A CHAIR FULL OF SPIKES, JUST TO MAKE SURE I'M GOOD AND STIMULATED, BEFORE I POUND OUT MY OPENING LINE. IF HOWEVER, LIKE THESE BLOGS, I START EACH ENTRY AS A WORK OF GENERAL CREATIVITY, AND FREE ENTERPRISE, THEN IT'S MUCH LIKE THAT OLD BALL GLOVE; AND FOR GOSH SAKES, HITTING THE GOAL POSTS THREE TIMES ON EACH SIDE, BEFORE THE FACE-OFF.  IF I CAN'T LOOK OUT THIS WINDOW OVER THE BOG, AND SENSE COMPANY OF OLD AND FAMILIAR KEEPSAKES, AND A FEW FAMILY HEIRLOOMS LIKE TWO PAINTINGS MY MOTHER GAVE ME, I WILL SIT HERE UNTIL THE NEXT SUNRISE, GROWING HAIR ON THE PALMS OF MY HANDS. THIS IS SO UNLIKELY THESE DAYS, BECAUSE I'VE BUILT THIS NOOK (OR CRANNY), AS SUZANNE CALLS IT, TO POSSESS ALL THE QUALITIES I NEED TO GENERATE SOME EDITORIAL COPY. I BORROW A LITTLE BIT OF PAST INSPIRATION FROM NOTTINGHAM, SHERWOOD FOREST, THE LIGHTHOUSE SOJOURNS AT PONCE INLET, MY DAYS AT "SEVEN PERSONS COTTAGE," ON LAKE JOSEPH, A FORMER COTTAGE ON ALPORT LAKE, OF LAKE MUSKOKA, AND THE STRIPP FAMILY COTTAGE ON LAKE ROSSEAU, WHERE I WROTE LIKE THE WIND. ALL WONDERFULLY GIVING LOCATIONS, FOR A WRITER STUBBORNLY SET IN HIS WAYS.

     THE OTHER DAY, I BEGAN INADVERTENTLY READING A SELF-HELP COLUMN, FOR WRITER-KIND (ALWAYS A NO-NO FOR SOMEONE SET, IN HIS OR HER WAYS, IN REGARDS CREATIVE ENTERPRISE) WRITTEN BY A LOCAL AUTHOR, CONTAINED IN A PUBLICATION KNOWN AS "THE GREAT NORTH ARROW," SERVING THE AREA FROM NORTH BAY TO HUNTSVILLE. GEEZ, I HAD TO PUT IT DOWN, AS IF IT WAS BURNING MY FINGERS. FOR ONE REASON ONLY. SUPERSTITION. IT'S SORT OF LIKE A THESPIAN, WHO MAKES THE MISTAKE OF UTTERING THE NAME "MACBETH" BEFORE GOING ON STAGE. BAD KARMA. THE SAME REASON I HAVE TO WANDER AWAY FROM THE TELEVISION, IF SUZANNE WANTS TO WATCH THE MOVIE, "FUNNY FARM," WITH CHEVY CHASE. THERE ARE NUMEROUS SCENES INVOLVING CHASE, AS A FLEDGLING NOVELIST, NOT BEING ABLE TO COMPLETE THE FIRST PARAGRAPH OF HIS BOOK. WHEN HE FINALLY DOES COMPLETE A DRAFT OF THE OPENING CHAPTERS, OF A BOOK HE HAD BEEN PAID A HANDSOME ADVANCE, HE WANTS HIS WIFE TO READ IT…..AND OFFER AN OPINION. WELL, IT GETS THROWN INTO THE FIRE, AND ENOUGH SAID. I HAVE A DREADFUL FEAR OF THAT KIND OF THING HAPPENING TO ME, BECAUSE I'M MISERABLE WHEN I FIND MYSELF UNINSPIRED…..AND UNABLE TO MAKE THIS KEYBOARD HUM. I WOULD HAVE BEEN DIVORCED A LONG TIME AGO, IF I EVER USED MY WIFE AS AN EDITOR. IT WOULD NEVER WORK, BECAUSE SHE'S BRUTALLY HONEST, AND I NEED A KIND MENTOR....A MUSE MORE THAN A CRITIC WHO HATES LONG SENTENCES, AND EXCESSIVE PUNCTUATION. I CONSIDER WRITING MY ART FORM, AND PUTTING SUZANNE IN THE UNENVIABLE POSITION OF ART CRITIC, IS WRONG, WRONG AND WRONG.

     I'VE WRITTEN THIS LITTLE TRIBUTE IN VARIETY OF STYLES AND WITH OTHER ENHANCEMENTS, SEVERAL TIMES IN THE PAST FEW YEARS, TO SHOW MY SINCERE APPRECIATION TO THIS SOUTH MUSKOKA COMMUNITY, AND THIS HUMBLE ABODE STANDING IN ITS WREATH OF BIRCHES, JUST ABOVE THE BOG, FOR GIVING ME THE PERFECT PLACE TO WRITE. A PORTAL OUT ONTO NATURE, THAT NEVER CEASES TO GENERATE POIGNANT EMOTIONS, ABOUT CONSERVATION PROTOCOLS IN THIS REGION OF ONTARIO. IT'S QUITE TRUE, THAT WE PROBABLY WOULD HAVE MOVED FROM GRAVENHURST, SEVERAL YEARS AGO, IF THIS LOWLAND ACROSS THE ROAD, A TARGET OF MUNICIPAL FUNDRAISING, HAD BEEN SOLD-OFF FOR RESIDENTIAL LOTS, AS WAS THE PLAN. THANK GOODNESS, COMMON SENSE AND ENVIRONMENTAL CONSCIENCE WON OVER, AND WE GOT TO KEEP OUR BEAUTIFUL AND THRIVING BOG. WE WOULD HAVE MOVED SOMEWHERE ELSE, IN ANOTHER MUNICIPALITY, THAT WOULD HAVE SHOWN MORE RESPECT FOR THE ENVIRONMENT. SO IT'S PLEASING TO SIT HERE TODAY, LOOKING OUT AT THE SAME REMARKABLE PLACE, KNOWING THE CITIZENS OF TOWN STEPPED FORWARD TO SAVE AN IMPORTANT RESOURCE.

     GRAVENHURST FACES A LOT OF CRITICISM THESE DAYS, AND MUCH OF IT RECENTLY, IS SHOWING UP ON TWITTER. HORRIBLE STATEMENTS ARE MADE BY GENERAL PASSERSBY, WHO HAVE ONLY ONE INTEREST, AND THAT'S TO INFLICT A BAD JUDGEMENT FOR THE HELL OF IT. I DON'T TWITTER, AND I WILL NEVER DO SO. I CAN'T WRITE BRIEFLY, AND THAT'S WHY I QUIT WRITING FOR RADIO. BUT FOR WHAT IT'S WORTH, I WANT TO ADD MY TWO CENTS WORTH TO THE MIX OF COMMENTS ABOUT LIVING AND WORKING IN GRAVENHURST. WHILE I DON'T SUPPORT IN ANY WAY, THE PRESENT COUNCIL OF OUR TOWN, FOR MANY PERSONAL REASONS, COUNCILLORS DO NOT HAVE A SINGLE THING TO DO WITH MY OVERALL APPRECIATION OF OUR HOME TOWN. OUR FAMILY FEELS THE SAME. WE ENJOY OUR LIVES HERE BECAUSE OF THE GOOD PEOPLE WITHIN, WHO ARE GENEROUS AND CARING, AND CAN ALWAYS BE COUNTED ON, TO RALLY AND INFILL THE VOIDS LEFT BY POLITICIANS DOING THEIR THING. IT IS OUR FEELING OF GENUINE THANKSGIVING, THAT WE ARE HERE…..IN A NICE, FRIENDLY TOWN, THAT DESPITE ITS BURDENS OF SOCIAL PROBLEMS, LIKE ALL COMMUNITIES, IT HAS RALLIED TIME AND AGAIN, TO PROVE ITS STALWART CAPABILITY OF MOVING WITH THE TIMES. THOSE WHO LIKE TO CRITICIZE FROM COMFORTABLE ARMCHAIRS, WILL HAVE THEIR OPPORTUNITY, IN ONE YEAR, TO RUN FOR MUNICIPAL OFFICE, AND HELP INSPIRE CHANGES TO THOSE THINGS THAT ARE FOUND TO BE OBJECTIONABLE, OR VIEWED AS IMPEDIMENTS TO LOCAL IMPROVEMENTS.

     FOR ME, MAYBE I WILL RUN, AND MAYBE I WON'T. I'M CERTAINLY WILLING TO WORK WITH CANDIDATES WHO WANT TO OVERHAUL THE PRESENT COUNCIL…..AND I AM A RUTHLESS COACH ON MUNICIPAL MATTERS. YET NOTHING, EXCEPT LOSING THIS PRECIOUS BOGLAND, OR OUR HOUSE BEING SUCKED UP BY AN AILIEN SPACESHIP,  WILL CHANGE THE REALITY, THAT THIS PLACE PARALLELS TO THAT OLD BASEBALL GLOVE I STILL POSSESS…..AS BEING A COMFORTABLE, GENEROUS PLACE IN WHICH TO LIVE AND WORK. DESPITE WHAT OTHERS IN COMPETING COMMUNITIES LIKE TO TOSS OUR WAY, AS INSULTS, .....AS A HARSH CRITIC, I WOULDN'T PRAISE THIS TOWN WITH A SINGLE SENTENCE, LET ALONG A WHOLE BLOG, IF I DIDN'T BELIEVE WE HAD MADE THE RIGHT MOVE IN 1989, TO HOP TEN MILES SOUTH, FROM BRACEBRIDGE TO GRAVENHURST. I WOULDN'T BE HERE NOW, OR OUR BOYS RUNNING THEIR MAIN STREET BUSINESS, IF OUR RELATIONSHIP HADN'T FLOURISHED…..THE BOYS BEING HAPPY ATTENDING GRAVENHURST PUBLIC SCHOOL, AND GRAVENHURST HIGH SCHOOL, SUZANNE CONTENT TO TEACH AT G.H.S. (OF WHICH SHE HAS JUST RETIRED), AND IT BEING AN IDEAL PLACE TO RUN OUR JOINT MUSIC AND ANTIQUE BUSINESS. AND OH YES, THE FACT THAT I'VE NEVER HAD A BURDENSOME HIATUS FROM WRITING HERE, AT BIRCH HOLLOW….NOW THAT'S WHAT I LIKE ABOUT LIVING IN SOUTH MUSKOKA. NEVER A DULL MOMENT. I MEAN THAT. THIS THEN, IS MY THANKSGIVING MESSAGE. WE LIKE GRAVENHURST. MAYBE I'LL GET ROBERT TO TWITTER THIS FOR ME….BUT THEN AGAIN, I HAVE A WAY OF STARTING DEBATES THAT HAVE NO CONCLUSION.

     I HOPE YOU HAVE ALL HAD A WONDERFUL AND INSPIRING THANKSGIVING WEEKEND. BLESS YOU FOR VISITING WITH FRED SCHULZ AND I, ON THIS TRULY MUSKOKA BLOG FOR ALL SEASONS. GOD BLESS.