The Squamidian Report – July 7 / 18
 
Issue #841

Including:
From Lorne
From Sus
From Russ
The Ontarion

Hi All,

We've had the girls here for the past week (exhaustion) and our raspberries have been ripening daily. The girls love the fresh berries but being as young as they are they do have a bit of trouble picking for themselves given that raspberry stocks can and do fight back and there is some need to pick only the ripe berries and leave the rest for another day, a concept they don't quite get. So, I've been picking them daily and dividing them up into two equal piles to be wolfed down faster than the speed of light. Where this is actually going is that it reminded me of the gruesome task of picking raspberries as a kid up on the farm. Perhaps its just my personal memory of how it went but I can still feel the itch and sting. Berry picking would happen on Sundays that were too wet to do any field or barn work, so, in other words, in the rain. Rainy week days were used for things like mending fences and cleaning stables. There would be lots of raspberry canes along the edges of the fields where the swamp or forest started, and were the mosquitoes started as well, big time. Our hands would be scratched from the prickles, both itching and stinging at the same time, and we would be endlessly tormented by the bugs. We'd be cold from being soaked as both the rain and the shoulder deep weeds would be drenching us. I can still see my hands turning wrinkly white while decorated with red welts. I can still remember tripping and falling and losing the hard earned contents of the basket I was picking into. You couldn’t pay me any amount of money now to pick berries in the rain, be it at the edge of a swamp or anywhere else for that matter.

Then there was the raspberry patch up the hill from the homestead when we were kids. It was part of the garden belonging to our neighbors, the Schnieders. (As in the meat company). They had several long rows of the domestic variety that grew tall and fruited with very large tasty berries. My brothers and I would sneak up there after dark and gorge ourselves, picking blindly by feel. No way at all of knowing what else besides berry was ending up in our mouths but as kids we didn't really care about such things and we did manage to survive so I don't suppose we ingested too much none berry material.

As well, there was a market gardener just up the road from the homestead that grew strawberries. And we did the same thing during strawberry season. We'd sneak over under the cover of darkness and stuff our faces, by feel of course, until we could eat no more. Seems to me mosquitoes played a large roll in both of these endeavors as well but not the rain, we'd forgo the endeavor if it were raining, we'd had enough of that level of discomfort up on the farm. And, at least strawberries don't have those tiny little prickle things. Ever try to get them out of your fingers when they are too small to see or get ahold of. You could feel them but not find them. Hated that.

Then there were the blueberries back in the peat swamp, again, guarded vigilantly by those mosquitoes. (In those days the peat swamp was a very large dark deep swamp that bordered the old roadway that the homestead was on). We were still quite young at the time were were going back into that swamp to where the blueberries were. They would be growing in the cleared areas that had been where the peat moss was dug out from (I guess). As we got older, the area grew over and we stopped going in there for them (I'm guessing again, but for whatever reason, they stopped being there in any volume worth going after and we stopped going after them). I do remember being in there, trying to put the berries into the basket and not my mouth because once you started to eat them you could no longer successfully save them. It was impossible. Same with any other kind of berry, once you give in to the temptation to taste, you would loose any discipline you thought you had and would fill your face instead of your basket. But I digress... we would head in and pick until the mosquitoes drove us back out. Years later, somewhere in the 70's, and long after the city had pushed River Road through the swamp I was driving along there and had to pull over for some reason that now escapes me. Something caught my eye along what was now the tree line back from the road. I walked over and found blueberries, lots of them, growing on nice big healthy plants. I was both surprised and delighted, and decided I'd come back on the following weekend to pick those beautiful berries that no one even knew were there. I couldn't do it at the time as I was on work time. So, nice and early on the Saturday morning I drove over to the same spot along the road where it cut through the old swamp, parked, and headed across the ditch over to where the berries were waiting in abundance. Much to my horror, between the time I'd discovered them and the weekend, the city had sent in a big tractor mounted mower to cut back the vegetation along the roadway and they had cut it right down to ground level all the way to the trees, totally destroying the blueberries. I still silently weep inside my head when I think back on that. I, and the berry plants, were devastated. I went back about 20 years later just to see if any recovery had taken place and all I found was choking thick weeds growing higher than I was and still am tall.

And that is perhaps why I guard my personal little back yard blueberry patch as selfishly as I do.

doug
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From Lorne

What horrible news about our Shannon Falls.  We haven't heard where the 3 persons entered the water or where the bodies were recovered.

(Explanation..... Higher up, above the 'visible' section of the falls and somewhat hidden in the canyon or ravine cutting down the mountain side, are many shorter sections of the falls where the water has carved bowls into the rock. So, you have a falls ending in a deep bowl then the water flows over the lip and falls again. These bowls are a popular place for young 'locals' that know where the trails are to get to them. Normally they would go there later in the summer when water flow is at its lowest but right now due to snowmelt high up the falls are roaring, and icy cold. People jumping into one of these bowls would be like dropping an insect into a flushing toilet, they are carried away instantly. In the case of the 3 that jumped in or fell in, they were washed over a 100 ft drop and slammed into the bowl below where the force of the water pinned them to the bottom of the bowl. It was a major and very dangerous exercise for authorities to extract the bodies. Turned out there were 4 of them but one managed to not go into the water, and called for help. They were a group that had travelled all over the world videoing themselves doing 'extreme' activities and then posting the videos on line and had in fact been denied entry by some countries because of their risky activities. They won't be doing that again.)
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The following is a complete turnaround from the usual and tender viewers may choose to read no further. Last night I dream't  that I  am back in my 20s or early 30s, up North at Spanish, Ont. There, only in my dream, is a very ornate Presbyterian church, it may have been Anglican or it could be Methodist. Who cares?  Word got out that they needed an organist for Sunday.  I may have jokingly commented that I could play.  So an attractive lady from their congregation approached me.  I replied, in my dream, I would love to play your 'organ'. She thought I meant her church organ. So as dreams go, I was stuck! I had to show up and play Sunday morning.  Being young and full of p--- and vinegar,  I decided to give it a try. First an early morning swim in a nearby lake then off to church. While enjoying the cool refreshing dip,  someone stole my clothes, leaving me with only my wet swimming trunks. Arriving at the church quite late, someone ushered me in through the basement and up a back stairs, leading directly to the pulpit and organ.  There I pose, dripping wet wearing only you know what, before a very Sunday best congregation.   P.S.  If anyone want's to read how it all turned out, let me know and if I can remember, you know how dreams tend to fade away in time, I kind of plan to conclude in next week's Squad.

Lorne
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From Sus

It's going to be a busy summer with all our guests coming for a visit this year.  My niece, Michelle and her daughter Emilie will be arriving from Switzerland on the 17th of July.  A week later her husband, Sven, is coming too.  I haven't seen Michelle is over 5 years so its all very exciting.  They plan on doing some whale watching down near Digby and swimming at our nearby beaches.  They also expressed an interest in helping us with our gardening, chickens and whatever other projects we have ongoing.  They live in the city of Zurich and do not have the luxury of being in the countryside that much.  I have been preparing for their visit since early spring.  We have a cabin on our property that was used for extra company in the summers.  It had gone downhill over the years and its only purpose was for storage.  Since buying my parents property we have brought it back to its real purpose.  We call it the Gallery as my Dad had many of his paintings on the walls.  He used to sit in there for hours smoking and analysing his art.

So now it is a gallery and a bunk house and its beautiful once again.  I think our guests will love it.  It will get lots of use this summer as we have other guests coming before and after the Swiss.  Hugh Cameron, from Wellesley, is in Antigonish at this moment judging at the highland games.  He comes every year to visit after the games are done.  We always enjoy seeing Hugh.  We will have some great meals and the usual gin and tonic drinks he makes for us.  In August we have more company coming from Massachusetts for a week or so.

Well I'm off to work.  It's very busy this time of year, everyone needs a haircut!  I'll be off for 3 weeks starting the 17th to spend time with my family from Switzerland who I don't see enough.
Have a great summer everyone,
Sus
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From Russ

"exhume" " or "disinter”

Basically, both these words mean “to dig up”.
May I beg your indulgence? Please allow me to “dig up” some memories of events long ago....what it was like being a city cop in the middle of the last Century. What follows may be considered ‘a new slant on old digs’.
 
Picture this: I was about 25, recently married to a beautiful widow with two young sons; Mac about 8, and Greg about 5....what a time to change careers!!  I’d been working at various jobs related to electrical construction, trying to build-up 4 year’s experience which would entitle me to attempt the “written test for Journeyman Electrician”...and I passed!! (barely).
 
It was a good Trade until the United Electrical Workers’ Union had, through outlandish demands, obtained higher wages for us, but lowered “skill standards”.  It didn’t matter how sloppy the work looked, as long as the job was done quickly, and (hopefully) to Code!
 
The Trade looked ‘shaky’, so I looked elsewhere. I applied to the OPP and to the City of Kitchener Police Department....was accepted by the OPP (after a long delay), but had already been accepted and hired by the KPD.
 
I have to confess here, that my ‘quick success’ in being hired by KPD was likely due to the fact that the ‘sexy young widow’ I married was the daughter of a KCI teacher who was a close friend of the secretary for Honourable Board of Police Commissioners, and NOT due to my ‘credentials’!!
 
This ‘cocky upstart’ had never worked ‘shifts’, and found himself walking the streets of Kitchener all night long (from 11:30PM to 7:30AM), and was ‘dead-on-his-feet’ long before relieved by a day shift cop.
 
Us rookies wore our ‘civies’, and were supposed to be learning the ‘challenges of a beat cop’ from our mentor (usually a 1st class constable with “all the necessary skills”). But I never realized what some of these so-called “skills” were; like where to get free coffee, free baked goods, free watermelons, and even free ‘full-course meals’!
The motto of a seasoned cop is: A good cop never gets; tired, hungry, thirsty, wet, too cold or too hot, or caught short.
 
Endurance was something I learned very quickly. There was ‘no excuse’ for getting tired on the night shift; several commercial buildings on King Street had offices on the second and third floors which we were “protecting”...that is, ‘rattling’ the office doors to see if they were locked, and if we found one ‘insecure’ we’d enter, look around for signs of burglary, and if all was OK, we were to phone the police station and ‘report the insecure’, following which, the cop on the switchboard would contact someone responsible for security of said office to come and see that nothing had been disturbed, then they would lock same and go back home to bed/nookie.  As you can see, all this took time, but we didn’t mind as it was a break from the drudgery of constant ‘beat-pounding’.
“Rattling doors” of the upper-floor offices took us off the street, and temporarily relieved us of providing police protection for the Citizenry of our beloved Kitchener. (We thought)
It’s hard to believe, but some of us cops abused this ‘relief’ by ‘catching forty winks’ while “safe from the elements, and out of the Public eye”.
 
“Was there no supervision by senior officers?” you ask.
 
Answer: yes, but we soon learned their modus operandi, and made sure we were ‘visible on the street’, giving us a ‘successful meet’, which covered both our asses! These meets, or visits with a Corporal or Sergeant were ‘recorded in our police notebooks, and were vital in establishing where we were at a given time.
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Next week we’ll talk about cops carrying their own ‘personal alarm clocks’.
By your old Uncle Russ.
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THE ONTARION REPORT

Hello everyone!
Well, it’s almost the middle of July and we still don’t have the MG back in our possession. I was down to Blair today to visit the body shop that’s doing the work on the car and finally saw it in it’s newly painted state! It’s looking beautiful and the owner of the shop has promised me that we’ll have it by the end of next week. He has some parts  on order that won’t be in until late next week and we just have to be patient until they are here and installed. Once they arrive from California he’ll install them and the car will be complete! I won’t post any pictures of the car unfinished. I want to wait to have it home before showing the world the lovely job they did on it! So until then, we’ll all just have to wait for the big reveal!
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Last weekend which was the Long weekend of Canada Day Carole and I went up to Amberley to visit Doug’s uncle Russ for the very first time. We contacted him on the Friday to see if he’d be around home on the Saturday. He was very gracious and wrote back telling us that he would indeed be home all day and was looking forward to meeting us for the first time. I do think we met him and Bobby way back on the occasion of our first visit to a Brubacher function. It was on the occasion of Lorne and Vivyan’s wedding anniversary at the BF Goodrich club out on Erb St W and I’m not sure which anniversary it was but it was one of their many! Neither Russ or Carole and I remembered that meeting so this visit was essentially our first! Carole and I left home around 10am on Saturday and began our drive to Ontario’s West Coast as they call it. It’s actually the eastern shore of Lake Huron. Russ had given us turn-by-turn directions to finding his home. It was easy to follow his printed directions and they took us directly to his door. It’s actually to his back door as his drive approaches the house from the back of the structure. The front of the house faces the lake and there is no driveway up to the front entrance. It took  us around three hours to arrive at his home and upon our arrival there was no answer at the door. I guess Russ had his TV up pretty loud and didn’t hear our knock. Carole used her cell phone and called Russ’s number and when he answered he asked where we were and if we were lost? LOL! Carole said no we’re not lost we’re standing on your porch! He answered the door then and we all had a good chuckle about the situation. He graciously invited us inside to the cool air and we chatted in his kitchen for the first few minutes. Our intent was to visit with him for a while and then the three of us would go out to lunch, on me of course!

We spent the first hour talking in the living room and catching up and of course we weren’t lost for something to talk about. We yacked about our past and with Russ being a former police officer and my being a former Fire Fighter we had a lot in common! We seriously could have talked all afternoon and evening I’m sure but the three of us were beginning to get a little hungry! We decided to head to a small restaurant not too far from Russ’s place for lunch. I had told Russ that we were going to come to visit him and then take him out to lunch. When it came time to go out to eat Russ insisted that we allow him to treat us to lunch since we were technically his guests and he’d like to treat us! With little resistance to his charm we accepted his offer and away we went. On the way to the restaurant he gave us a bit of a tour or the area. It was formerly a cottage settlement but is now a growing permanent home development for quite a few people. Sounded like most of the residents are now retirees! We entered the restaurant and were told that the air conditioning was not working that day so as it turned out it was quite warm in the place. We chatted for a while as we waited for our order to arrive at the table. Of course Russ being the charmer that he is the waitress on duty was well acquainted with him as a local resident. This made for quick and efficient service so we didn’t have to wait very long for our meals to arrive. As we ate at a leisurely pace we talked more and more about our past and his. He’s quite an interesting gentleman to converse with and we enjoyed the visit very much.

After lunch we were happy to get back into the Jeep to the air-conditioned comfort. The day’s temperatures were in the low to mid-30’s range and very humid indeed. We decided to stay in the AC and drive around the area a little more. Russ was kind enough to take us to his church and show us where his lovely wife was interred. As he mentioned in a previous Squamidian edition, the head stone is marked in the reverse order to where Bobby is buried. She should be buried beneath her name on the head stone but during the burial she was mistakenly buried on the left side of the plot under Russ’ nameplate. Many people have given Russ suggestions as to how this can be rectified but he hasn’t decided what he’s going to do about it if anything. After visiting Bobby’s gravesite we drove around the subdivision as Russ pointed out some of the lovely homes and cottages owned by the people he knows from living there for the past 8 years. I related a story from my youth to him about my venturing up to that exact cottage area with a friend by the name of Bob Baier. His dad owned a cottage in Russ’s area and in the dead of the winter of 1965 Bob’s dad asked if he and I and another friend by the name of David Bernhardt would take the day and drive up to the cottage and clear the snow off the roof of their cottage so it wouldn’t cave in from the weight! So with a sense of adventure in our youth we of course said we would do that. Bob had just been given a new Jeep CJ as a 16th birthday gift by his parents who were quite well off financially. They owned a company called Baier Fuel Oil and liked to spoil their two boys!

We spent more than four hours driving up Hwy 86 to the cottage and once there it was indeed a challenge to drive up the tiny cottage road (that is still there) through a ton of snow to get to the cottage. Even the lovely red Jeep had trouble getting through the heavy snowfall that was common in those years. Once at the cottage we found that there was no way we’d have the job done before dark that day. So we decided to stay for the night and do the clearing of the snow in the morning. Of course over night there was another huge snowstorm. In the morning we literally had to force our way out of the cottage as the door was covered up to eye level in snow from the night before. Once we got outside we discovered that the Jeep was also almost completely covered in snow. We spend a good half hour digging the Jeep out of the snow before starting on the cottage roof clearing. We worked on clearing the snow off the cottage roof for the better part of the day and finally at around 2pm we were finished and could head for home. Bob’s dad had given Bob some money to buy us lunch while we were doing this task for him and of course we were enormously hungry by the time we finished making our way our of the cottage development. We had only eaten chocolate bars and potato chips and drank a 6pack of Coke for nourishment while working. It was quite an adventure and finding an open restaurant in those days was a chore. We had to drive all the way south on Hwy 21 to Goderch before finding a food source. It was a second long day before we arrived back in Kitchener. Of course there were no cell phones in those days and our parents were quite worried about our well being when we hadn’t made it home the day before! After the two-day trip we most certainly had a good story to tell! In fact, it’s still a good story to tell as you can see! Funny how after all these years this story can be tied to one of present day! Of course I didn’t go into as much detail telling Russ the story but he got the point. He told us that there isn’t nearly as much snow up that way in modern winters but he still gets quite a bit each winter.
Anyway, we topped off our visit with Russ by spending another hour in his Kitchen talking and then decided to head for home. We had taken Hwy 86 all the way from Elmira to Russ’ house but on the way home to KW I drove south on Hwy21 to Goderich and then hopped onto Hwy 8 that took us all the way to Stratford and then of course to Kitchener. As we approached Kitchener, we decided to detour to St Jacob’s to visit our favourite restaurant and partake in their delicious dish of liver and fried onions which we have only once every six weeks or so. We thoroughly enjoyed our meals and headed for home. I had forgotten that a meal of Liver and Onions causes my right ankle and foot to flair up with Gout!!! OUCH!!! By the next day I had such a sore foot that I could hardly walk on it. I contacted the Doctor on Tuesday and it took until Wednesday before I finally received the prescription for medication to combat the Gout. Consequently, the Gout has taken hold very badly and it’s taking the medication longer to calm the soreness down! I’m still suffering and it’ll likely take a few more days before I’m relatively back to normal when I walk (Or should I say hobble) properly! I can’t help but think that my Liver and Onion days are over. I truly don’t wish to have this problem occur again. That’ll learn me not to think with my stomach! LOL!

Well, I guess that’s enough of my gabbing for this week!
Thanks for tuning in and I’ll look forward to talking to you all again next week in The Ontarion Report!
Bye for now … Greg
PS: Something To Think About>
Make someone happy today, mind your own business!
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Have a good one..
the doug
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