Posted on August 20, 2014 under Storytelling with one comment

For Sale: Air conditioned house

 

 

Summer is the most wonderful time of the year.  This summer has been particularly good, with long stretches of warm, sunny weather.  In fact, some say that this has been one of the hottest and driest summers on record.  It is also the time of the year that families get together for vacations, weddings and festivals.  In other words, it’s been busy.  The old “feast or famine” conundrum.  So when you finally get a weekend when you have no company and no other commitments, you look forward to some peace and quiet.

And then lightning strikes.

The cancellation of the Antigonish Art Fair provided a rare chance for us to have a relaxing Friday evening at home.  There were severe thunderstorm warnings in the area and the organizing committee had made the prudent call to cancel the event.   I arrived home late in the afternoon and indulged in a crossword puzzle.

It was very dark and there was a constant rumble overhead, with lightning and intermittent periods of heavy rain.

You often watch interviews on television where people are trying to describe the sound of a hurricane.  It’s hard to accurately put it into words.  They say that a tornado sounds like a train rumbling straight toward you.  The sound of the simultaneous thunder and lightning hit was deafening.  The house shook.  I shook.  I thought that the house was going to split in two.  “That was close” I thought.  Shaken, but undeterred, I moved to the clue for 15 down.

At this point, I had no idea of the damage that the house had incurred.

All of our spouses have special “looks”.  You know when they’re happy (occasionally), when they’re annoyed with you (frequently), when they’re sad (arriving at Value Village to find it closed for inventory) and when they are worried (most often about children and grandchildren).  When there is something seriously wrong, well, that is a totally different look altogether.

When my wife arrived home from work, she rushed into the house half expecting to find me deep-fried on the kitchen floor.  But no, I had just moved on to 21 across.

“Our house has been struck by lightning!” she gasped.  I never doubt the veracity of my wife’s statements.  Well, maybe once in a while.  “You’re kidding me.” was my terse reply.  That’s when I got the “Are you stunned?” look.  She escorted me outside and we both gazed up at a big, jagged hole at the peak of the roof.  There was also a considerable debris field of shingles, siding and wood splinters scattered between our lawn and the neighbor’s.

We quickly made our way upstairs to find the power out and the fan cover in the bathroom blown off.  She lifted the hatch to the attic and we smelled smoke.

There was no visible sign of fire but we decided not to take any chances.  I called 911 and explained the situation calmly to the dispatcher.  I told her that there wasn’t a big panic and this was more of a precautionary call than anything.

Within minutes we could hear the sirens and, in the blink of an eye, every fire truck in town was in our driveway and on the street.  Closely following the emergency vehicles was a long line of spectators.  We thought about charging admission.  Our neighbors, as always, were ready to assist in any way.

Next door there is a family with three small children and this was easily the most exciting day of their young lives.  Nestled in their grandparents’ arms, they watched as the firemen climbed ladders and entered the house, fully geared and prepared for the worst.

We were very impressed with the members of our town fire department.  They were very calm and exceedingly professional.  They took their thermal camera into the attic and quickly ascertained that there was no fire lurking in the ceiling or the walls.  It was all over in an hour or so.

Because of social media, the word spread rapidly, leading to a steady stream of curious onlookers which only subsided three days later.

We all react to stress differently.  Once I knew that we weren’t in any danger, I calmly drove to Brendan’s and bought a lottery ticket.

The damage is still being assessed but one thing we knew immediately is that we had lost phone, internet and cable TV services.  This was more than a bit disconcerting for my wife, who wondered how she would find out where the yard sales were going to be the following morning.   My concern was much more urgent; I wouldn’t be able to watch the conclusion of round 2 of the PGA Championship.

The best news of all was that there was no damage to the coffee maker.

Of course, many of our friends who knew that our house had recently been on the market took the opportunity to weigh in.  We were advised that we could now state that the house includes air conditioning.  And that lightning never strikes twice.  A witty family member declared that she always knew that we had a better chance of being hit by lightning than selling our house.

I had a birthday a few days after the “bolt from the blue”.   My wife made me a lovely cake and my present was a bag of mulch.   She puttered around the flower beds in between cloudbursts and snippets of the final round of the PGA.

I know exactly what I will be getting her when her special day rolls around.  An Antigonish Town Volunteer Fire Department calendar.  If there isn’t one there should be.  Thanks, folks.

 

 

Posted on August 18, 2014 under Monday Morning Musings with one comment

The motto at The Clucking Hen Restaurant

 

 

I saw this t-shirt at The Clucking Hen restaurant which is located a few kilometers up the road after getting off the Englishtown Ferry. It is one of my favorite places to eat on the Cabot Trail. The food is excellent ( their homemade butterscotch cream and lemon meringue pies are to die for ) and the women who run the place are , simply put, lovely people.

I had an amazing day last Friday. I did a day long solo trip around the Cabot Trail which was a first for me. I have done the Trail well over 50 times but never alone. No kids, grandkids, brothers, sisters, cousins, ghosts of deceased relatives… and no Betty. She was working and couldn’t come. I started the day visiting Raylene Rankin’s grave in Mabou and finished it attending the wake of an old university friend, Bobby Doucette, in Ingonish. In between, I travelled the highways and byways, including a side trip to Meat Cove.

I have penned a lengthy story ( circa 1200 words ) about the trip called “ Happy Trails.”

One good piece of news ( for me, anyway ) is that the gift shop at Cabot Links is now carrying my book. The gift shop is housed in a giant yurt.  I met a wonderful lady by the name of Ann, who manages the place. We struck up an animated conversation and before I knew it, the books were on the shelf. She later confessed to being a Campbell. When I got home, I wrote a story about this chance meeting. It’s called “Salt of the Yurt” and will be appearing soon at Week45.

So. Were you at Woodstock , 45 years ago? Every other 60 something person claims to have been there. By my reckoning, the globe would have tipped over if everyone who claims to have been there, was actually there.

I also wrote a story about earworms and hope to have this one posted soon as well.

And of course, “ A Bolt From The Blue,” my firsthand account of our lightning strike, will appear on my website on Wednesday this week. I must say that I have reached the saturation point with this story. It’s pretty bad when you go to two funerals and a wedding and you get as much attention as the dearly departed and the newly weds.

I have a good story in this week’s Cape Breton Star about chicken. (“ Chickened Out “) . If you happen to be in Cape Breton this week, you can pick up your free copy at most newsstands.

If everything is going well for you today, count your blessings. Never take your good fortune for granted.

Have a great week.

Posted on August 16, 2014 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Strait Laced

 

 

When I think of the Strait area, a few words automatically come to mind: industry, uncertainty and resilience.

For a very long time, Port Hastings and Port Hawkesbury have provided the backdrop for any number of industries.  Aggregate has been rolling down Porcupine Mountain for as many years as I can remember, with large container boats coming from all over the globe to fill their holds.  And the Christmas tree, that appears as if suspended in space near the top of the mountain, is iconic.

The Heavy Water plant, Gulf Oil, NSPC, Georgia Pacific, NSFI, Stora, Stora Enso, Newpage and more recently, Port Hawkesbury Paper.  There were and are many more.  The new star on the block is Nu Star, a well-respected company providing petroleum and chemical storage.

The paper mill has always been the key driver of the economy in the quad counties.  It has provided a great percentage of the good paying jobs in the region.  But it has also provided the greatest amount of angst and uncertainty … for decades.  The community has learned to live with this uncertainty.  In some ways it defines it.

As you approach the Strait area from the mainland you are treated to the panorama that is St. Georges Bay with the rolling hills of Cape Breton rising in the distance.  Once you cross the causeway you will find the Port Hastings Museum and an excellent Visitor Information Centre.  Continuing toward Port Hawkesbury you find many motels and restaurants overlooking the Strait of Canso.  Straddling the two communities is the Nova Scotia Community College, a world class institution providing some very unique programs.  On one of my first tours of the facility, I remember standing by the wave pool and experiencing mild sea sickness when they cranked up the surf.  I knew right then and there that I could cross pilotage off my list of career choices.

Eleven years ago I opened a satellite office for business in Port Hawkesbury.  I thought about it long and hard before approaching the law firm of Evans and MacIsaac.  I reckoned that if things didn’t go well, I wouldn’t have to go far for legal advice.  Shindigs was my second choice.

The folks in Hastings and the Hawk are among the finest people you will find.  That is, until you journey to the next town or village in Cape Breton.  You see, everyone on Cape Breton Island is friendly.  But because of my tenure in port Hawkesbury, I know these people best.

Like most mortals, I like to eat and my favorite haunt is the Fleur de Lis.  Now, before I have all the other fine eating establishments mad at me, I like the others too.  The best fish and chips anywhere can be found at the Port Hawkesbury Motel.  Proximity is key on a busy workday and I find good home cooking five minutes from my office at the Fleur de Lis.   I have gotten to know the staff; even when they are busy (always), they never look rushed.

But there is a gaping hole in this restaurant these days.  Sandra, like Elvis, has “left the building”.  I loved watching her survey her domain when things were hectic beyond belief.  She was just like an air traffic controller.  And she always had this uncanny knack of prying a few extra dollars out of my pocket for charity.  She was a master fundraiser.  You simply didn’t say no to Sandra.

The jewel of the Strait area is the new Civic Centre.  I have attended many events there including seminars, hockey curling and concerts big and small.  The Shannon studio is a gem for musicians who want to entertain in an intimate setting with great acoustics.

Last winter, I decide to do an official launch of a book that I had just published. I booked the Shannon Studio.  My event happened to land on one of the coldest nights of the entire winter and the wind was whipping light snow, making visibility poor. At 6:58 PM (the launch was at 7:00), the audience consisted of my wife and the janitor.  I have never performed anything in front of an audience of one before, except maybe confession.

At 7:00, two brave souls showed up and by 7:15 we had close to twenty.  Some of these folks had travelled from well out of town to attend my event.  One more thing that defines these communities is loyalty.  I learned that first hand on this cold winter’s night.

During these warm summer days you may find me hastening to the Hawk. I’ll be checking out Granville Green or going for a stroll on the boardwalk.  And tuning in to 101.5.

Here’s hoping you haven’t tuned me out.