THE HUNDRED MILE ANTIQUE HUNT - WE'VE BEEN REGIONAL FROM THE BEGINNING OF OUR ANTIQUE ADVENTURE
IT HAS ALWAYS MADE SENSE ECONOMICALLY, TO KEEP OUR BUSINESS AS LOCAL AS POSSIBLE - SELLING INTERNATIONALLY IS A DIFFERENT BALL OF WAX
I knew dealers, way back when, who frequently bought shipping containers filled with an assortment of British antiques and collectables, in order to give that international flare to their shops. These containers, which I assume are still available, certainly weren't cheap, and I could never figure out how antique dealers handling these orders in England, knew what my customers in South Muskoka would want to buy anyway. It's not like you could pick all the items being loaded into these wooden crates, of different sizes and costs, and to me, it always seemed like a contravention to what I had signed-up for, when I officially entered the antique trade in the fall of 1977, with the opening of our first shop; Old Mill Antiques, on upper Manitoba Street, in Bracebridge.
Besides this, I didn't have the money to buy a shipping crate full of antiques from another country. I had to hunt and gather inventory one piece at a time, from all over our region; attending flea markets, garage and estate sales, and of course country auctions. Even then, I had to pull it all together on a shoestring budget, but the one thing I was proud to say to my customers, was that everything in the shop had come from South Muskoka. Not directly from England, or even Toronto. Maybe the pieces of furniture had been made in England or the United States, but they were all found in the vicinity of my shop. That was as international as I was going to get.
I didn't even have my own car, when I opened that first antique shop with my parents, Merle and Ed, only a few months after I graduated university. I didn't even own the proverbial pot to piss in! I was naive on that first attempt, but I never lost the ambition to hunt antiques; and I had no choice but to do so, without a lot of in-pocket cash. I'm glad this is how I started in the antique trade, because it made me humble by action and reaction, thankful that a penniless guy like me, could, by ambition and a fair bit of cunning, could open a shop and somewhat succeed. The ace in the hole for me, was that I had writing gigs to help cover the bills, and create a little reserve for buying stuff. The other distinct advantage, was the fact I had a degree in Canadian history; so I employed it immediately, to give our business a comfortable ambience of regional heritage. I got a lot of writing gigs over the counter, and when we opened our second shop, I wrote the rough draft for three books in one year, including a chronicle of the Bracebridge Senior Citizens Club. I also bided my time writing newspaper feature articles, and a regular column for The Muskoka Advance, and the Muskoka Sun. In between customers, during the off season, I had lots of time to pursue other projects; and for me, writing was most convenient to my location in uptown Bracebridge. Now I do the same, but I'm situated ten miles south, in Uptown Gravenhurst. I've only written one small book while here, for a local curling and golf club, but have written more than three hundred blogs from this studio chair, about twenty feet from where Suzanne tends her antique shop sales counter.
Bracebridge was my hometown, and I thought that it was important, for the local antique dealer, to represent this proudly, by recognizing and bragging about its heritage. It just seemed logical. Afterall, I had turned down three significant job offers in other Ontario locales, in order to open our shop. The reason? I had a great childhood growing up in this town, and I figured it could be a neat place to run a business in later life. Even before our first full year of business, had been completed, I had become a founding director of the Bracebridge Historical Society, which had launched a community museum initiative, to acquire and restore Woodchester Villa, the former home of local woollen mill founder, Henry Bird. I liked being grounded in this way. I wanted customers to come into our shop and ask questions about Bracebridge, and especially its history. The same scenario occurred when Suzanne and I opened our own shop, known as Birch Hollow Antiques, in the late 1980's, and it has continued to this day, in our extended family businesses, all located now on the main street of Gravenhurst. We are still historically active in South Muskoka, and many of our customers are from Bracebridge, so nothing has changed in this regard. As a matter of irony, we still chat with customers about Bracebridge history, in the heart of Gravenhurst. This at one time, would have been blasphemous, because of the huge rivalry between the towns, especially in sports. I still use the name Birch Hollow, as you probably know by now, and Suzanne has her "Cookery Nookery." The boys, Andrew and Robert, each have their own businesses, related to vintage music.
Since my very first antique shop, I have confined my hunting and gathering to a hundred mile limit, but at the time of establishing this, it didn't have anything to do with environmental safe-guarding. It was just what I found best suited my own collecting interests. I very seldom ever hit the outskirts of Toronto, to hunt antiques. I've never gone all the way to North Bay either. Most of the time, I probably haven't gone beyond a seventy mile limit, and yet, I haven't felt any particular shortfall, or disadvantage, to get what I most desired as a shop inventory. I guess these self-imposed limits came originally from the fact I was a poor sod, with more ambition than cash-in-pocket. Yet I found everything I needed in this regional zone, and in the mix, were antiques and collectables with amazing international provenance. I didn't have to order a shipping container full of British antiques, to get what I wanted of English heritage inventory. I just had to brush-up, as any antique dealer must, on what constitutes a British antique cupboard, from one, for example, made in France or Germany. In this 100 mile zone, north, south, east and west, was a mountain of finds to be made, and what it took most of all, to uncover them, was a willingness to explore, and undertake adventures every week, even with a tiny wee budget. I never let a lack of funds stop me in my tracks. As long as I had enough gas money, and funds for a light lunch, I was in business, because I could strike any number of acquisition arrangements with sellers, vendors, dealers, or yard sale hosts, to get what I wanted; even if I had to beg them to hold the items for a week or so. Not much has changed. And we are just as respectful of the 100 mile hunting ground today. I still don't feel disadvantaged whatsoever. We have as much fun today on our explorations, as we did, hauling around two youngsters and a dog that liked to eat seat-belt straps. We had so many amazing picnics at roadside parks all over Muskoka and Algonquin, on these same buying trips. Sometimes we loaded the canoe on the van's roof-racks, in case opportunity presented. It sure did!
If we could do all our antique and collectable buying in Muskoka, I would be delighted. As some of my readers may already know, Suzanne and I have been selling Muskoka heirloom pieces, with provenance, since we began our shop in Bracebridge, situated very humbly, beneath what was then known as Martin's Framing, on Manitoba Street. We've played a part in building quite a few "Muskoka" collections, for our customers, as well as select archive / libraries, for local historians, and we're quite proud that collectors put their faith in us back then, and to this day, as we continue what we began circa 1986. If everything we purchased for re-sale in our present shop, had a Muskoka provenance, we would then feel securely representative of our region, in terms of heirloom pieces. Being proud of our region, and always willing to share some historical anecdotes, or heritage information, means we clearly take "local" to the highest level of operation. The highest compliment we can receive, from our patrons, is to be recognized as operating a truly "Muskoka" business. That's the whole point for us. We have no interest whatsoever in operating an antique business that reflects Toronto or Southern Ontario values, or trends. If we wanted that kind of shop, we would have located in Southern Ontario, not the beautiful hinterland of South Muskoka. Call us crazy, but we wanted a business that local citizens would see as belonging to them, and part of the neighborhood fabric, because of many shared values. Seeing as Suzanne is from pioneer stock in Muskoka, and I'm a long serving Muskoka historian, it makes sense that we would want to operate an antique business, with materials gathered from the region we call home base. It's what we both desire, but it wasn't a plan to do this, when we set out our business sign. Muskoka is what we knew best, and the place on earth where we had decided to stay as newlyweds, to raise a family. It made sense to open a "local" business, that would jive with our values of hometown, and the home region. It doesn't mean we don't like Southern Ontario, or Toronto, but rather, we like Muskoka a little bit more. We very much like being part of the tourism industry, where we get to brag daily, about the comforts of home and hinterland, showing it most often, via the selection of inventory we have gathered. We like to tell buyers where the pieces have come from, and although this doesn't mean a table made in England, can be called a "Muskoka piece," we will footnote, that this British heirloom, was found in a Muskoka estate, and provide the name of the host community, if, and when possible. We localize what should be localized, for the benefit of patrons who, we find by experience, want to know as much about their investment, small or large, as possible. It's just our thing. Maybe it doesn't matter to you. To each their own. But at least we have this information, should it be desired. It's not like we foist upon unsuspecting buyers who couldn't care less, that a bureau came from a Muskoka hotel, or a bed and breakfast in Cleveland. Those pieces we have clear provenance, especially with an important Muskoka connection, are always clearly identified. This we promise.
We like the ring of being known as "regional antique dealers." We live up to the reputation. Even when Suzanne and I get wild out there, on our travels, we never go beyond the 100 mile limit, because it's pointless. For recreation we may decide to travel beyond or even out of the country, but we don't do so to buy antiques. I still feel there is no disadvantage sticking to our region to do a majority of our hunting and gathering. I've been doing the same thing for four decades, and I'm still in business, so I suppose it's no exaggeration, to say it's a plan that continues to work. I rather like that it's bandied about, between our customers, that the Currie's once sold a bench, from the Muskoka Lakes steamship, Sagamo; a wash basin with the crested logo of the former Windermere House, landmark vintage photographs, like the one of a steamship-jammed Bracebridge Bay, and original art panels painted by former Bracebridge artist / barber, William "Bill" Anderson, and Muskoka artists such as, Richard Karon, of Lake of Bays and Frank Johnston, formerly of Gravenhurst. We've got a lot to be proud of, in this region, and we will continue to invest our time and effort, and inventory dollars, hunting the relics and art work representative of our district, and offering them to our Muskoka-loving customers. You can call us local yocals, but we will never consider it anything but a compliment, to the place in which we dwell during the four seasons. And by the way, it doesn't mean we don't suffer a tad, in this regard, because we have no choice, as a Muskoka retail operation, to deal with the seasonal fluctuations of economy. Keeping in mind, that Suzanne's training ground, was running a Windermere based Marina and Snack Bar, for many years, in the 1960's and 70's; so we know how to compensate for the off-season downturn. It's when we do most of our antique hunting. Works pretty well.
From The Archives
PLAYING MUSIC IN THE BARN - MY MOST MEMORABLE FARM EXPERIENCE IN MUISKOKA
"THE FARM IN GOOD ORDER"
"GRADUALLY BUT SURELY THE WORK OF IMPROVING A NEW FARM GOES FORWARD, UNTIL IT IS ASTONISHING WHAT A CHANGE IS BROUGHT ABOUT IN A FEW SHORT YEARS. THE WILDERNESS IS TRANSFORMED INTO A FRUITFUL FIELD. ONE BY ONE THE STUMPS HAVE ROTTED OUT, AND GIVEN THE PLOUGH FREE SCOPE TO WORK. INEQUALITIES IN THE SURFACE OF THE LAND HAVE BECOME SMOOTHED DOWN, AND ALMOST THE ONLY EVIDENCE THAT THE COUNTRY IS NEW, IS FURNISHED BY THE RAIL FENCES. THE LOG BUILDINGS HAVE GIVEN PLACE TO STRUCTURES OF FRAME OR STONE. A GARDEN ON THE FARM WHICH WE ARE SUPPOSING TO HAVE REACHED A STATE OF COMPLETENESS. THE FRONT FENCES HAVE CEASED TO BE THAT OF RAILS. A NEAT, ORNAMENTAL PALING OR HEDGE, SKIRTS THE PUBLIC ROAD, AND A TASTEFUL BIT OF SHRUBBERY ENVIRONS THE HOUSE AND OUT-BUILDINGS. ALTOGETHER THERE IS AN AIR OF BEAUTY AND ATTRACTIVENESS ABOUT THE SCENE, BUT RECENTLY SO WILD." THUS THE APPEARANCE OF THE WELL LAID-OUT, AND NEATLY KEPT CANADIAN FARM. THE PASSAGE ABOVE WAS FROM AN EARLY SETTLERS' GUIDE BOOK, THAT WAS, WITHOUT SHAME, OR REGRET, PUTTING A GENEROUS SPIN ON HOW WONDERFUL HOMESTEAD LIFE COULD BE....JUST AS THOMAS MCMURRAY DID MUCH LATER, IN HIS GUIDE, "MUSKOKA AND PARRY SOUND," RELEASED IN THE EARLY 1870'S. THERE'S NO DOUBT THE DESCRIPTION, AND THE ACCOMPANYING WOOD CUT ILLUSTRATION, OF AN APPARENTLY SUCCESSFUL FARM NESTLED INTO THE PICTURESQUE COUNTRYSIDE, INFLUENCED MANY IMMIGRANTS TO HEAD TO THE ONTARIO FRONTIER....WHERE THERE WERE FORESTS TO FELL, WETLANDS TO BRIDGE, THE FILL, ROCKS TO CLEAR, AND A LANDSCAPE TO TAME. AND THEN CAME WINTER. ONCE AGAIN, YOU CAN READ JUST HOW ADVENTUROUS AND ROMANTIC THIS HOMESTEADING THING COULD BE.....AND WHAT A FEW YEARS (BACK-BREAKING) LABOR COULD GET AN AMBITIOUS FAMILY. THEY DON'T SPEND A LOT OF TIME TELLING THE TRUTH, BUT WE'VE ALREADY EXAMINED THE MISINFORMATION AND LIES THAT MADE UP THE CAMPAIGN TO POPULATE THE RURAL AREAS OF OUR PROVINCE AND COUNTRY. NOW LET'S MOVE AHEAD A CENTURY PLUS, TO A NEW ERA, AN OLD FARMSTEAD, AND AN HISTORIC BARN THAT WAS BEGGING TO BE RESTORED.
I USED TO REFER TO MYSELF AS A CITY KID. THAT WAS BACK IN THE LATE 1960'S, WHEN I TRIED TO IMPRESS MY NEW TOWN FRIENDS, IN BRACEBRIDGE. ONE DAY ANOTHER KID, WHO HAD ALSO MOVED NORTH FROM THE BANANA BELT, TO BECOME MUSKOKAN, CORRECTED ME WHEN I SAID THIS TO IMPROVE MY STATUS AMONGST THE LOCALS. "WHERE ARE YOU FROM AGAIN?" THE KID ASKED, AS WE STOOD IN A SMALL GROUP AT THE BASEBALL DIAMOND AT JUBILEE PARK. "BURLINGTON," I BLURTED BOLDLY, AS IF TO SAY...."I'M SO MUCH MORE SOPHISTICATED THAT YOU HICKS." THE KID ANSWERED, "I THOUGHT YOU SAID YOU WERE FROM THE CITY." "BURLINGTON IS A CITY," I ANSWERED, A LITTLE FLUSTERED AT BEING CHALLENGED ON THIS BIT OF PERSONAL BIOGRAPHY. BURLINGTON ISN'T A CITY-CITY," HE LAUGHED. "IT'S JUST A BIG TOWN." WELL IT WAS MORE LIKE A SMALL CITY WHEN WE MOVED NORTH IN 1966, BUT IT JUST DIDN'T SOUND LIKE A DECENT BOAST, TO SAY I WAS FROM A "SMALL CITY." IT WAS "CITY" STRAIGHT UP OR NOTHING. YOU KNOW, FROM THAT DAY, I STOPPED SAYING THAT I WAS FROM THE CITY, OPTING INSTEAD TO REFER TO MY PLACE OF ORIGIN AS "SOUTHERN ONTARIO," INSTEAD. IT COVERED ALL THE BASES.
IN THE FIRST TEN YEARS, LIVING IN MUSKOKA, I DID POSSESS A STRANGE RELUCTANCE TO LET GO OF MY URBAN PAST. MY CHUMS, MANY WHO WERE MUSKOKA-BILLIES, (AND PROUD OF IT) BY THEIR OWN ADMISSION, WOULD GET ANGRY, WHEN I'D SLAP THEM WITH THE "CITY-RAISED" THING, AND EVENTUALLY, IT JUST WASN'T A STATUS-BUILDER, IF IT EVER HAD BEEN. I'D JUST GET STRANGE STARES, WHEN I'D MENTION IT, AND MOST OF THE KIDS HAD NO IDEA WHERE BURLINGTON WAS ANYWAY. SO OFFERING IT UP, AS A STATUS MARKER, WAS A LITTLE INSULTING TO THESE MATES, WHO WERE PROUD OF THEIR OWN HOME REGION. SEVERAL OF MY BUDDIES WOULD SUGGEST I SHOULD RETURN THERE, SEEING AS I MISSED IT SO MUCH. THIS WASN'T THE CASE AT ALL, BECAUSE FROM THE MOMENT WE ARRIVED HERE, SHORT OF A BRIEF HIATUS PERIOD OF ADJUSTMENT, I FELT HONESTLY, THAT THE BENEVOLENT GOD HAD GIVEN ME A SLICE OF HEAVEN, AS A SPECIAL GIFT BEFORE MY ULTIMATE DEMISE. HERE I WAS SEEING FIELDS OF CATTLE, CLOSE TO WHERE WE LIVED, DEER AND MOOSE IN OUR WOODLAND, VERSUS WITNESSING, AS I HAD DAILY, THE URBAN THRUST OF PROGRESS, WITH ITS VAST ACREAGES OF SPRAWLING INDUSTRY AND COMMERCIAL ESTABLISHMENTS. WHERE I'D COME FROM, WAS NOT WHERE I WANTED TO BE. MY SOUL WAS CONTENT TO BE MUSKOKAN.
OF COURSE I LOVED MUSKOKA, BUT IT WAS JUST A JUVENILE REACTION OF SILLY BANTER, TO CALL MY SELF A CITY SLICKER, THAT MEANT NOTHING. I CAN REMEMBER MY FAMILY CONSIDERING A MOVE BACK TO THE CITY, AFTER SEVERAL EMPLOYMENT DEBACLES, EARLY ON IN BRACEBRIDGE, AND MY VEHEMENT OBECTIONS TO LEAVING WHAT I CONSIDERED A PARADISE ON EARTH.
BUT I STILL HAD SOME URBAN RESIDUE ON MY SOUL THAT WAS SLOW TO FADE AWAY. WHEN MY GIRLFRIEND GAIL, WANTED TO TAKE ME TO A NEWLY MOVED, AND REFURBISHED CENTURY-OLD BARN, WHERE HER FATHER AND SOME OTHER FAMILY MEMBERS WERE GOING TO JAM, THAT NIGHT, I TRIED EVERY EXCUSE SHORT OF FAKING "NEAR-DEATH," TO REMOVE MYSELF FROM THE BARN-FEST. IT WASN'T THAT I DIDN'T LIKE MUSIC OR BARNS, BUT AS A SPECTATOR, I WOULD HAVE RATHER WATCHED A ROLLER DERBY, OR GONE TO THE MOVIES INSTEAD. I HAD BEEN IN THE HIGH SCHOOL MUSIC PROGRAMS WITH GAIL, HAVING LINKED UP, WHEN THE BAND, UNDER JOHN RUTHERFORD, TRAVELLED TO ENGLAND BACK IN THE SPRING OF 1974. BUT I WASN'T BEING ASKED TO BRING MY BARITONE (SMALL TUBA LIKE INSTRUMENT) TO THE BARN JAM, BECAUSE IT WAS AN ALL-GUITAR EVENT. GAIL AND I WERE TO BE SPECTATORS WHILE HER DAD, GORD, AND RELATIVES, ROD FORTH, AND KEN PEARCEY MADE UP THE JAM PART OF THE BARN SOIREE. I'D LISTENED TO THESE FINE MUSICIANS MANY TIMES IN THE PAST, AT THE SMITH FAMILY HOME, BUT THIS WAS SOMETHING MUCH DIFFERENT; MUCH MORE EXCITING. THIS WAS ABOUT TO BE MY FIRST TRULY RURAL, FARMSTEAD EXPERIENCE, SINCE ARRIVING IN MUSKOKA.
THE HISTORIC "JACKSON" BARN HAD BEEN MOVED BOARD BY BOARD, BEAM BY BEAM, ACROSS A FEW MILES OF MUSKOKA COUNTRYSIDE, FROM A PROPERTY ON HIGHWAY 118 IN THE AREA OF THE PIONEER COMMUNITY OF ZISKA, TO ACREAGE ON THE BEATRICE TOWN LINE, BELONGING TO MODERN DAY FARMER, KEN PEARCEY. HIS GRANDPARENTS HAD OWNED AN OLD FARM LESS THAN A MILE WEST, FROM THE FORMER JACKSON PROPERTY, ACROSS FROM THE ENTRANCE TO WHAT WAS CALLED, BACK THEN, PIER 100 MARINA. KEN HAD BOUGHT QUITE A LARGE ACREAGE AND WANTED AN OLD BARN TO GO WITH IT! HE WAS A FORMER CITY KID HIMSELF, WHO DECIDED TO RETURN TO THE RURAL AREA THAT HAD BEEN FARMED BY HIS KIN LONG BEFORE HIM....A REAL CITY TO HINTERLAND SUCCESS STORY. SO THE JAM SESSION WAS TO CELEBRATE THE SUCCESSFUL COMPLETION OF THE BARN RELOCATION. A SORT OF REDEDICATION OF THE LANDMARK BARN THAT WAS SO RECOGNIZABLE ON THE CORNER OF ZISKA ROAD FOR SO MANY DECADES. I THINK IT HAD BELONGED TO HARRY JACKSON ALTHOUGH I STAND TO BE CORRECTED.
KEN INVITED GORD SMITH, HIS DAUGHTERS GAIL, GLENNA AND JUNE, AND ROD FORTH, PLUS SOME SIGNIFICANT OTHERS, TO THE LOW-KEY JAM SESSION, TO PLAY SOME OF THEIR FAVORITES. I REALIZE NOW, IN RETROSPECT, ESPECIALLY HAVING TWO LADS DEEP IN THE MUSIC BUSINESS, HERE IN GRAVENHURST, SPECIALZING IN GUITARS, JUST HOW REMARKABLE AND STRANGELY PROVIDENTIAL THAT NIGHT WAS, FOR ME.....AND BY GOLLY, HOW MUCH ANDREW AND ROBERT WOULD HAVE ENJOYED PLAYING ALONG WITH THESE GUITAR VETERANS. WHILE I HAD BEEN RELUCTANT TO GO THIS FARM "COUNTRY" JAMBOREE, AND GET INVOLVED IN SOMETHING AS INTIMATE AS A JAM SESSION WITH REAL MUSICIANS, I WAS SO PLEASED GAIL HAD DRAGGED ME ALONG.....DESPITE SOME WHINING AND PROTESTATION. IT MADE A LIFE-LONG IMPRESSION, THAT'S FOR SURE. IT DIDN'T MATTER, YOU SEE, WHETHER I PLAYED A GUITAR OR NOT. I WAS INVITED INTO THE INNER CIRCLE TO EXPERIENCE AN AUTUMN EVENING IN MUSKOKA, WITH THE BARN DOORS OPEN, AND THE MOON SHINING BRIGHT; THE MUSIC WAS SPIRITUALLY INTOXICATING, AND WE DIDN'T NEED A DROP OF BOOZE TO GET THIS WAY.
I WAS USED TO THIS MUSICAL FAMILY HAVING REGULAR JAMS, WITH FRIENDS AND FAMILY, PLAYING IN THE SMITH FAMILY'S LIVINGROOM, SEATED AROUND THE ROCK HEARTH, ON NIGHTS JUST LIKE THIS. BUT THE SENSATION OF BEING IN THIS MASTERFULLY RECONSTRUCTED MUSKOKA BARN, ON THIS AMAZING PIECE OF DISTRICT LANDSCAPE, IN THE AUTUMN OF THE YEAR, WITH THE SENTIMENTAL BATHING OF MILKY MOONLIGHT ON THE EVERGREEN FRINGE, WAS A TREAT FOR THE SENSES. LISTENING TO THE COUNTRY SONGS BEING PLAYED BY THESE THREE LADS, PUT ME BACK IN HISTORY LET ME TELL YOU.....SUCH THAT IF EVER THERE WAS A PIONEER FEELING IN THIS URBAN PHYSCHE, IT WAS ON THAT NIGHT THAT I OFFICIALLY, IN MY MIND, BECAME A COUNTRY BOY. GORD, ROD AND KEN, AS I REMEMBER THEM, WERE FABULOUS MUSICIANS, AND LOVED ANY OPPORTUNITY TO WHIP OUT THE GUITARS, AND MAKE MUSIC. THEY DIDN'T NEED ANY MORE URGING THAN A WINK OF AN EYE, AND A PLACE TO SIT AND PLAY. I ENJOYED MANY OF THESE CASUAL JAM SESSIONS, INDOORS AND OUT, AND EVERY TIME, IT MADE ME MORE MUSKOKAN THAN I WAS THE HOUR BEFORE. I THINK HONESTLY, MY EXPOSURE TO THESE COUNTRY MUSICIANS, DID MORE TO IMMERSE ME IN MUSKOKA CULTURE THAN ANYTHING ELSE I'D EVER DONE, IN THOSE YEARS OF ADJUSTMENT, FROM SMALL CITY LIFE TO SMALL TOWN CELEBRATION.
GAIL HAD A HARD TIME GETTING ME OUT THE BARN THAT NIGHT. I WANTED TO STAY ALL NIGHT. YUP, I WAS CONTENT TO SLEEP IN THAT BEAUTIFUL HERITAGE BUILDING, WITH THOSE HUGE HAND HEWN BEAMS, MADE FROM THE BOUNTY OF HALE AND HARDY TREES, HARVESTED FROM A PRIMAL MUSKOKA FOREST. I LAPPED UP THE WHOLE EXPERIENCE; THE AROMA OF THAT SEASONED WOOD, THE SMELL OF HISTORY INGRAINED, THE CRACKLE OF WOOD IN THE STOVE, THE MOONLIGHT SPARKLING THROUGH SOME OF THE CRACKS BETWEEN THE BOARDS; THE COOL NIGHT AIR AND THE AROMA OF A SMALL POT OF COFFEE, STEAMING ON THE STOVE. I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT OF HEAVEN, WHEN I FINALLY GET THERE, BUT I REALLY THOUGHT, ON THAT NIGHT, THAT I WAS CLOSE TO THE PERFECTION THAT WOULD SERVE ME WELL IN ANOTHER EXISTENCE. IT WAS A NIGHT THAT INSPIRED A THOUSAND POEMS AND JUST AS MANY SHORT STORIES, WRITTEN IN OLD JOURNAL BOOKS, I'VE KEPT IN MY ARCHIVES SINCE THE LATE 1970'S. IT WAS THE NIGHT I FELT I'D HONESTLY ARRIVED, AT AN UNDERSTANDING ABOUT WHAT IT TRULY MEANT TO BE, AND WHAT JOHN DENVER NOTED IN THE SONG, "A COUNTRY BOY." I WAS HOME. AND I WAS BEGINNING TO UNDERSTAND ALL THE JOYS AND BENEFITS OF BEING A COUNTRY HUMAN BEING. MY SPIRITS WERE LIFTED PRETTY HIGH, AND I FOUND THAT YOU COULD HAVE A GREAT TEENAGE-PARTY WITHOUT THE BOOZE. NOT A DROP. NOT EVEN A WINE GUM. THIS WAS A PURE, HONEST, UNCOMPROMISED, UNFETTERED RELEASE INTO A WORLD I WAS NOT FAMILIAR....EVEN THOUGH I HAD BEGUN TELLING PEOPLE I WAS FROM BRACEBRIDGE, BY THIS POINT......FEELING BURLINGTON WAS THUSLY A DISTANT MEMORY, AND NO LONGER A BRAGGING POINT. THERE WAS A ZEN-LIKE QUALITY TO THIS NIGHT IN THE BOSOM OF MUSKOKA FARMLAND, AND IT WAS EVEN A LITTLE TRANSCENDENTAL AT THE SAME TIME. I'D BEEN OFFERED AN ILLUMINATION, TO SEE MORE CLEARLY, WHAT MY LIFE COULD BECOME.....IF I WAS TO CHOOSE TO LIVE HERE, AFTER GRADUATING UNIVERSITY. WELL, I'M STILL HERE, AND I NO LONGER CALL MYSELF A CONVERTED CITY KID. I AM A CONTENTED MUSKOKAN, WHO HAS NEVER, SINCE THAT JAM SESSION, EVER DOUBTED THAT MY PARENTS HAD MADE THE RIGHT CALL, TO STICK IT OUT IN THE RURAL CLIME OF ONTARIO, DESPITE SOME RESIDENT HARDSHIPS THOSE FIRST FEW YEARS. ACTUALLY, MY MOTHER HAD GROWN UP ON A FARM NEAR TRENTON, ONTARIO, SO SHE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED THE PULL OF THE HINTERLAND ON THE HEART STRINGS. IT WAS HER SON'S TURN TO RESTORE A FAMILY TRADITION, AND LIVE RURALLY. I JUST WOULD HAVE MADE A HORRIBLE FARMER. I CAN'T EVEN GROW DECENT GRASS IN MY FRONT YARD, TO EVEN THINK ABOUT GROWING A CROP OF ANYTHING. CURRENTLY I AM BEST KNOWN IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD FOR DANDELION CULTIVATION AND HARVEST.
RECENTLY, MY PHOTOGRAPHER COLLEAGUE, FRED SCHULZ, OF GRAVENHURST, HAS BEEN CAPTURING SOME INTERESTING IMAGES OF MUSKOKA BARNS, MOST OF THEM NOW IN RATHER POOR CONDITION. I THINK WE PROBABLY SHOULD HAVE INITIATED THIS MUSKOKA HERITAGE PROJECT TWENTY YEARS AGO, AS MANY OF THESE FARM BUILDINGS HAVE BEEN LOST TO DECAY OR TORN-DOWN FOR SAFETY CONCERNS; THE FORMER FARMS RETIRED FROM ACTIVE SERVICE, LIKE SO MANY THOUSANDS ACROSS THIS COUNTRY. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE TO HAVE PROTECTED MORE OF THESE BARNS, LIKE THE ONE KEN PEARCEY SAVED FROM ROTTING INTO THE GROUND....GIVING AN EXTENDED LIFE FOR THE BEGINNING OF A NEW FARM VENTURE. THERE'S IS A LOT OF SOCIAL / CULTURAL HERITAGE CONNECTED TO THESE FARM PROPERTIES IN MUSKOKA, NOW MOSTLY JUST RESIDENTIAL PROPERTIES. FRED WILL BE OFFERING OTHER IMAGES OF MUSKOKA BARNS, AND INTERESTING OUTBUILDINGS, THAT HE ENCOUNTERS ON HIS JAUNTS AROUND THE DISTRICT THIS AUTUMN, TRYING TO CAPTURE THE ESSSENCE OF THIS BEAUTIFUL REGION ON FILM. I WISH HE COULD HAVE BEEN IN KEN PEARCEY'S BARN THAT NIGHT, BACK IN THE 1970'S, WHEN I WAS CONVERTED.....FROM A SMALL CITY OFFSPRING, TO THE REAL COUNTRY THING; COURTESY AN AMAZING COUNTRYSIDE, AN ENCHANTED AUTUMN NIGHT, AN HISTORIC BARN, AND SOME MUSICAL FRIENDS, WHO TO ME, REPRESENTED THE OLD PIONEER LIFESTYLE, OF BEING MUSKOKAN.....WHICH FROM THAT NIGHT ON, I CONSIDERED A GREAT HONOR. "I'M FROM MUSKOKA," I BEGAN TO BLURT, WITH THE STANCE OF SOMEONE RIGHT AT HOME SAYING SO! I'M SO DARN PROUD OF OUR HISTORIC FAMILY ROOTS, DATING BACK TO THE 1860'S, MY MUSKOKA BORN WIFE, SUZANNE (BORN IN HUNTSVILLE, AND RAISED IN WINDERMERE), AND OUR LADS, ROBERT AND ANDREW, BOTH BORN IN BRACEBRIDGE. LIVING RURALLY? IT'S BEEN A CHARM WE'RE STILL BENEFITTING FROM AFTER ALL THESE YEARS. THOSE COURAGEOUS PIONEERS, ARE THE ONES WHO REALLY DESERVE THE CREDIT FOR WHAT WE HAVE TODAY.
No comments:
Post a Comment