The Squamidian Report – July 14 / 18
Issue #842
Including:
From Russ
From Lorne
The Ontarion
Hi All,
Last week I mentioned picking berries up on the farm on rainy Sundays.
I guess there were Sundays that weren't raining but those ones seem to
have faded from memory, at least from a berry picking perspective. The
point is, from a Sunday point of view, berry picking wasn't considered
to be 'work'. The only official work done on a Sunday was the daily
chores that had to be done regardless of the day, weather, or anything
else. And that brings me to those fences that needed to be mended on
days that were too wet to do field work and didn't fall on a Sunday. If
berry picking in the rain was miserable, well, mending fences in the
rain took misery to a whole new level. For starters, it was always the
sections of fence that ran along the bottom end or back end of the
fields that seemed to keep falling down, and given the topography of
that old farm, that was were the swamps and forests started, and the
mosquitoes and every other kind of biting and stinging bug imaginable.
As well, if a section out along the back lane were to come down it was
easy to find, back in the swamps you had to go trudging through the
deep wet weeds and swamp willows in an attempt to locate the downed
section. I should add that a downed fence meant that either the cows
could get out for where they were supposed to be, or, in to where they
shouldn't be, like a grain field. If they got out along the lane they
would just head on back to the barn. If they got out of the pasture
field and into a grain field they would do a lot of damage. If they got
out of the pasture and into the swamp or forest they could be very hard
to find and my grandparents could not afford to lose any of them. I can
still remember the call going out.... “the cows are in the grain” and
everyone had to stop whatever they were doing and work like mad trying
to get them rounded up and out of the grain. But I digress....
Most of the fencing on the old farm was snake rail, meaning the fencing
material was simply split cedar rails laid in a zigzag or 'snake'
pattern. It was simplicity. The rails were made from the local cedar
trees, split by ax and wedges, right on the spot and set one on top of
the other like inter woven fingers. Very little was needed in the line
fasteners, no post holes were required, and the fences could last for
many decades. Those fences generally stayed up and did their job. The
cows never bothered to test them. However, that single wire electric
fence that was so easy to set up down along the bottom of the fields
and through the swamps were constantly being tested by the cows and if
they sensed that the wire was not 'hot', they would simply walk right
through it. The old 'boss' cow would even shove a young, low status
calf, into the fence to see if it would cry out and jump in fright. If
it did, the cows stayed away, if it didn't, well, that was that, the
old cow lead the herd to freedom. As well, something as simple as a
falling tree branch could bring down the electric fence as it was
usually just staked in place or stapled to the trunk of a handy tree.
And of course, if it were wet and the line was grounding on or against
a wet tree or thick swamp vegetation, the fence would lose its potency.
The electrical pulses would dissipate into the ground. We would have to
find the downed section and get it back up and staked or stapled. All
the while the thing would be pulsing and those pulses hurt, a lot. We
were wet and made perfect grounding rods. It would usually be too far
back to the power source to go and shut it off, and if we did, chances
are the cows would figure it out very quickly and make a run for it.
Don't get me wrong, the cows were not unhappy with their pasture, they
were just being cows and cows like to wander and to explore, as in that
old saying, “the grass is always greener on the other side of the
fence”, apparently even if that grass was swamp or forest.
So, we would struggle as best we could, trying to hold the wire on the
end of a stick or with insulated pliers. If the wire was broken, the
section disconnected from the source was dead and didn't pose any risk
of being zapped but would have to be reconnected to the live end. And
so on. If the electric fence was down in dry conditions the whole thing
was greatly simplified and easier to deal with. Either way, cleaning
stables was a much preferred task any day.
*
Much
closer to home and in the present.... I decided to do a toot up to
Cache Creek on Wednesday for lunch. The lunch part was basically just
an excuse, it was the extended ride I was after. I have not had a
chance to go up that way since before last summers rather destructive
forest fires and wanted to see what the interior of this province looks
like now. So to that end I rode up to Pemberton where I stopped for a
coffee and a washroom break and then headed up and over the Duffy. I
basically had that road to myself which was fantastic, just cruise
along and enjoy the twists and turns and scenery. At Lillooet I crossed
the muddy Fraser and follow on up 99. This follows the Fraser Canyon
through some of the mosts scenic and driest parts of the country. It
then turns east/west in orientation as it works its way through the
Marble Canyon section. Then, 99 turns roughly north again for the last
20 clicks on up the its end where it terminates at #97. Until leaving
Marble Canyon there was very little sign of forest fire damage but for
most of that last 20km everything on the west side of the highway was
gone. Just bare hills studded with blackened tree trunks.
Interestingly, the east side was untouched. The hills were green, the
trees were green, and the few structures along there were still there.
Up at the junction of the highways there was devastation in every
direction as far as you could see. Its about 10 clicks eastward to
Cache Creek and except for the greenbelt along the river, everything
was burned out. The occasional small stand of trees along the river
were burned but mostly things looked pretty good along the river.
Cache Creek seemed to be doing fine, given that they had lost homes and
other structures last summer and then had been flooded out this spring.
Boy, was it hot there, mid 30's at least and so dry you could feel your
skin drying out. I grabbed a quick lunch, fueled up, and headed back.
The ride up and back is incredibly nice and totally enjoyable except
for the fact that when heading south over the Duffy I ran into the ever
expected tourist traffic. I just don't understand drivers who doddle
along at half the posted speed and will not let other get by. After a
while you end up with a kilometer of vehicles stuck behind some jerk
and those drivers get frustrated. Being on a bike I did and could
eventually crack the throttle and boot on by. It was a hot ride all the
way home as we seem to now by having summer. Its about 280 clicks each
way so I had a nice 560 km ride. That old Harley of mine sure likes to
go road tripping. I rode hard where traffic required it, and just
cruised along easily where traffic permitted it, and averaged 56 miles
to the gallon. Not bad at all. And now the bike and I are ready to go
agin, a bit further hopefully
By the way, I was supposed to have new tires put on last Wednesday but
the tires weren't in yet so I'm just wearing out the old ones a bit
more. The new ones will get their chance when they get here.
doug
****
From Russ
As promised last week, I’m now going to let you in on a ‘deep secret’.
Who knew that back then some cops carried their own ‘personal ‘alarm
clocks? OK, they weren’t really clocks, but they were “wake-up alarms”.
The story goes like this; I’m still on probation, and working the
night-shift with Constable “Big” Jake DeVries. We’re walking through a
used car-lot on King Street, East, when, after ‘trying’ the doors on a
number of cars, he finds one that’s not locked.
“come on...get in” says Jake, as he slides into the back seat where I’m
invited to join him. The seat is soft and ‘velvet upholstered’...very
welcome for my tired butt, sore feet, and aching legs. And this is
where I get my first lesson in “how to get some shut-eye without
getting into trouble”.
“You gotta ‘set’ your alarm clock” he says, as he whips-out his handcuffs.
“Hold them between your thumb and one finger, like this”.
Picture this: We’re sitting side-by-side, elbows resting on our knees,
so we’re crouched-down, out of sight, and holding our handcuffs as
directed.
Silence.
More silence.
It’s probably around 2:AM.....I’m starting to doze off......so
peaceful....so comfy.....so quiet.....CLUNK! I’ve dropped my
handcuffs! I’m FULLY AWAKE!
“That’s how you set your alarm clock; you never fall into a deep sleep,
and you don’t miss your lunch-break back at the station”, says Jake
(with ‘much’ pride)
Lesson learned.
*
KPD
had a ‘progressive system of classification’, and with each ‘step up
the ladder’ came a small increase in salary. A rookie started on the
1st rung which was a probationary period (or 4th Class Constable), for
about 6 months to a year; then 3rd Class (for about the same period);
then 2nd Class, and finally, if you had a ‘clean record’ you rose to
1st Class Constable. A ‘bad report’ could set you back one or more
classifications, which also meant a reduction in pay, and as a
Probationary Constable I was paid a mere $2900 a year....even back then
these were ‘starvation wages’. So, I kept my nose clean (usually).
*
Finally,
they ‘let me loose’.....I’m on my own.....a 3rd Class Constable,
expected to ‘do the job’. The first thing I notice is; everybody hates
me! The second thing I notice is, they “hate the uniform”, not the
person wearing it. Maybe more about that later, but I also hate my
uniform! It’s too hot, it itches, and it don’t fit!
But I’m ‘out on the street’, fully equipped, fully armed, and not fully
trained!! There was very little ‘in-service training’, and the Ontario
Police College was ‘still a dream away’. The OPP had a school of
sorts on Jarvis Street in Toronto, but it was primarily for training
OPP recruits, but on occasion, if there was ‘a vacancy’, to ‘fill a
class’ municipal police were ‘allowed’ to attend. (it was considered an
honour to be included with OPP types) I believe it was during my first
year with KPD that I was given the opportunity to take a Basic Police
Training course. We were billeted in a converted, huge old home that
provided our classroom, lunchroom, recreation room, bedroom, showers
and toilets.
More about that place, and the ‘childish’ behavior’ of us “hicks”
later...if you’re still interested, but for now, I’d like to share more
“stories about the stories” revealing “what it was really like” as a
young ‘beat-cop’ in a city, just past the midway of the last Century.
We’re ‘still’ on the night-shift; I missed my lunchbreak back at the
station a few times, when I forgot to ‘set my alarm clock’
(surprised...nobody even missed me!). But, eating a cold sandwich,
packed the night before, never really appealed to me in the middle of
the night (lunchtime; a half-hour break allotted anytime from 2:30AM to
4:30AM). My innards rebelled! By the way, we requested a toaster oven
to make our ‘cold-as-death’ sandwiches more appealing, and....Surprise!
Surprise! We got one! However, it was not long before some
enterprising individual began using our sandwich toaster to “DRY HIS
WET SOX!
We never again toasted our cold, old, dry sandwiches!
Next week, I will reveal “my not-so- secret addiction”.
Your Old Uncle Russ.
****
From Lorne
Good morning all, In 1/2 hour I will be leaving for a
weekend out Lindsey Road 20 to a friends summer home on a cove on Lake
Huron just south of the Tub. If weather conditions permit, we will sail
to who knows where on his 34 foot boat. If we are unable to be on the
water, we will spend the time harmonizing back at camp as we are all
barbershop singers. Somebody has to do these mundane chores. The
horrible pink on the concrete has faded to a less horrible dull. Maybe
I wont move from here just yet or even paint over it. Or am I just
accepting life's missfortions with more grace. PS, My spell check
cant spell 'missfortion' any better than I can.
Lorne
****
THE ONTARION REPORT
Hello everyone!
Here we go again with another week gone by and no MG!
Was told last Thursday by the body shop owner that he had to order a
part for the undercarriage of the MG to strengthen the frame for
safety. I accepted that just to be on the safe side. He said that when
he ordered the part he was told that it would be in at the supplier by
this Thursday July 12th and that once he picked up the part Thursday
he’d have the MG ready for pickup by Friday afternoon. Well, I received
another call on the 12th telling me that the part being shipped from
California was held up at the border in the States and wouldn’t be in
at the Ontario dealer until late Friday the 13th. How unlucky is that?
It seems that Friday the 13th is a number that keeps showing up in my
life when I most need it! LOL! My heart surgery was performed on Friday
the 13th last October and that turned out just fine. I guess I
shouldn’t complain about this incident happening on Friday the 13th.
So, I’m going to view this delay as a lucky situation and be patient
until the body shop has the part in hand. I was assured that as long as
the part arrives Friday that the body shop will pick it up on Saturday
the 14th and they will finish the job on the weekend. I was also
assured that as long as that happens I’ll have the MG back in our
driveway on Monday and in like new condition! I’m at the point where
I’ll believe it when I see it! LOL! With the way all this adventure has
happened I’m not sure what to believe at this point! It’s just a wait
and see situation now I guess!
Oh well, once it’s over and done, we’ll be the proud owners of a
classic Little British Car that will be the hit of the local cruise
night car shows for sure! I’ve attended a few of them over the past
month or so and many of the vehicles in the show are really quite
spectacular indeed! It’s amazing how much money people spend on classic
vehicles that take them back to something they owned or wanted to own
back in their youth! I have run into several people that I haven’t seen
since high school at these meets and trust me, their classic cars look
in much better shape than the owners! LOL! About 5 weeks ago I attended
a cruise night in Baden Ontario and while walking the rows of vehicles
and admiring the beauty of same I passed and almost bumped into a
familiar face. I glanced to my left and recognized a childhood friend
that I hadn’t seen in slightly over 45 years. This friend just happened
to have been my best man at Carole’s and my wedding. Imagine that,
having a best man that you haven’t seen since the wedding day he stood
up for you! I guess we just drifted apart. I had heard of him a couple
of times over the years but had only seen him once after the wedding
now that I think of it. About 16 years after the wedding I was driving
the MG a few weeks after we acquired it up Westmount Rd in Waterloo and
spotted the same individual walking along. I stopped and called to him
and offered him a ride. We talked about cars and life and other things
and after I dropped him at his house we never connected again until 5
weeks ago at the car show. Since that meeting, he gave me an old
business card of his and told me to give him a call sometime. He now
lives on a farm out on Erb St W past St Agatha and has invited me to
drop out to visit him and his classic cars sometime. I intend to do
that once I get the MG back and am looking forward to getting
reacquainted.
We were friends all through our childhood in public school as well as
throughout high school at KCI. Once we graduated we only saw each other
occasionally up until the wedding and then lost touch. As it turns out,
he is also into classic cars and has three of them in his collection.
He was very fortunate in a business venture and after selling his
company for millions has been retired for some 20 or more years now.
It’s no wonder he can afford to collect vehicles and horses from what I
understand. He was always a really nice guy and from what I see, he
still is a decent fellow. We picked up as if we had only been apart for
months rather than years. It’s strange how one can find old
acquaintances at these social gatherings. Adam and I were at another
car event at Highland Rd and Westmount Rd last week and not only was my
best man there but I met three other guys that were acquaintances
somewhere along in my life. Two that I met through working at Zehr’s
Markets when I was apprenticing in refrigeration and one other that was
a neighbourhood guy who also attended Prueter Public School with me and
just happened to have purchased an Austin Cooper S from me back in
1970. Of course we talked about that vehicle and as it turns out, he’s
still into classic vehicles as well. He now is the proud owner of a
1967 Chevelle Malibu SS 396 and it just so happens that I once owned
one of those as well. The only difference was that my Chevelle was a
1966, one year earlier than his present day vehicle. Both vehicles were
almost identical with the exception of the tail light section. That ’66
Chevelle was the most powerful vehicle I’ve ever owned indeed. It was
sold by Chevrolet as a 396 cid motor with 360 Horse Power but it
actually produced 425 Horse Power. For some reason GM greatly
underrated the horsepower produced by their Big Block motors in those
years. I think it had something to do with governmental restrictions on
the power of vehicles. Oh well, all I can say is it went like Hell and
I burned off more back tires and anyone else in the neighborhood! LOL!
The only draw back with such a powerful vehicle was trying to drive it
sensibly in the winter months. In fact, trying to drive it sensibly any
time of the year was difficult! I spent a lot of time watching for
Uncle Russ and the other coppers around KW! LOL! I never even got so
much as a ticket with that car and one would think it would have been a
ticket magnet! I remember being pulled over a few times in the Chevelle
but the cops that stopped me were just curious about the car and how
much power was under the hood! They were all pretty cool about the
situation and usually just said “Nice car, take ‘er easy will ya?” As
I’ve said over the years, I’ve had many many cars and some of them were
quite special. The car I miss the most is the ’67 Cooper S that I
mentioned earlier. I had taken it into my brother’s place of work at a
body shop in Breslau where he was a painter and had him paint it in the
identical colour scheme that adorned a Cooper S that belonged to the
actor James Garner at the time. I had a poster on my bedroom wall that
was a picture of James Garner and King Hussein of Jordan standing side
by side next to twin Cooper S’s that were painted in a Dark Metalic
Blue below the window level and metallic silver from the bottom of the
windows up to an including the roof. If you go on line and punch in
James Garner’s Cooper S, you’ll see the identical vehicle that I had
copied from that same poster. I wish I still had that little beast! I
had paid a friend who was Canadian Champion Sedan race driver to build
the motor into a race spec motor for that Cooper S. He had been racing
that same vehicle at Mosport and other great racetracks across Canada
for several years. He agreed to rebuild the motor for my Cooper and he
did an amazing job of it. When he finished with the motor and it was
back in the car, he said it was faster than his race Mini and that was
indeed very fast! He used to blow the doors off of all kinds of big
name vehicles during the sedan races, big names such as Camaro, BMW and
Mercedes. It’s no wonder I loved that little Mini Cooper! I could leave
such monsters as Chrysler Hemi’s in the dust at most stop lights. The
little Cooper only weighed in at 1000 lbs and the horse power produced
by the new “race prepared engine” was rated at 110 hp at the wheels.
The front wheel drive helped it dig in and go like crazy! With that
sort of hp in a small car, it was like having 400 hp in a big heavy
piece of American trash out of Detroit! I could smoke the front tires
in third gear at 60 miles per hour!
Oh well, I guess that’s about enough car talk for one week! I can tell
I lost the ladies interest way back in this edition of the Ontarion. So
I’ll stop here for this week and save the car talk for another edition.
That’s it for this week!
Thanks for tuning in and I’ll look forward to talking to you all again next time in The Ontarion Report!
Bye for now … Greg
PS: Something To Think About>
Don’t discuss your problems with people. 50% are glad you have them and 50% don’t give a damn!
****
Have a good one..
the doug
The Fine Print!
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