Posted on October 6, 2014 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

Some Fall foliage

 

 

I was on my way to the Homecoming Football game when I saw this flaming red bush at Chisholm Park. As most of the locals know, the lower part of Hawthorne Street has a lot of student rentals. It was a spectacular Fall afternoon with the temperature creeping towards 20. Let’s just say that the parties had a full head of steam with students hanging from the roofs and rafters. A part of me ( a very small part ) was envious watching this youthful exuberance knowing that I had done the same thing over 40 years ago.

Speaking of football, I got a lot of response to last week’s story about playing football at St.F.X. The morning after the story was printed in The Casket. I was stopped twice on my way to work and both people said the same thing: “ I didn’t know you played football at X.” My response was terse, “ I didn’t.” There is a not so subtle distinction between playing football and being a football player. I was simply an equipment manager wearing football gear.

With Halloween just around the corner, I figured that I better pen something about this. I certainly have a lot of childhood memories going door to door with a pillow case. All of our costumes were homemade. I think I even when dressed up as a football player once. Oh,  no, that was at St.F.X. in 1972! You could get quite a haul just on our street alone. Do any of you remember going to the Pottery House on St.Ninian Street?

I certainly have memories of some adult Halloween parties which were all the rage for the longest time. I live such a sheltered existence these days that I don’t know if these are held any more. So what was your most memorable Halloween night whether it was as a child or an adult?

My Halloween story is called “ The Case For Halloween” … or “Black and Orange Day” as the joyless curmudgeons of political correctness would have us call it . Back in the 70’s, six St.F.X. education grads ended up teaching in the Peace River country of Alberta. Five of us ended up in the same school. This was in a German/Ukranian farming community. I don’t want to spoil the story but I will give you one clue. We went to a staff masquerade party dressed as a six pack of Schooner beer. Those poor people were scratching their heads from the day we arrived in Alberta until the day we moved back to Nova Scotia.

Well, you weren’t very forthcoming with stories about dieting so I went ahead and wrote a story on the subject anyway. It’s called “Lost and Found.” Just about every mortal has tried to lose weight at one point or another in their lives. Someone mentioned the other day that their goal was to lose 10 pounds. When asked how they were doing they said that they only had 13 pounds to go. This was a fun story to write.

Coming up on Tuesday is my recollections of the day I kissed the Blarney Stone in Cork, Ireland. It’s called “ Put a Cork in it.”

If you’re a turkey, keep your head up this week. “If you can keep your head, when all about are losing theirs and blaming it on you.” ( Thanks to Rudyard Kipling for his ode to turkeys on the eve of Thanksgiving! )

Have a great week.

Posted on October 4, 2014 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Check out Part 1 and Part 2

 

Life is a series of learning opportunities. You survive some hard knocks along the way, and when it comes to a job or career it can take a very long time to decide what you want to do.  The flip side is that most of us can quickly discover what we don’t want to do for the rest of our lives.

After a few months in the mill and having worked in two different departments, I was beginning to wonder if the administration saw some hidden aptitude in me and might be grooming me for a management position. Nothing could have been further from the truth.  Any talent I had was clearly buried under mountains of sawdust.

My last shift with the construction crew started and ended with an accident. We were building a new shipping and receiving dock and, of course, the old one had to be dismantled first. The beams were truly massive and despite having been in place for decades they still had a distinct smell to them … the smell of railway ties.  Come to think of it, I think that’s what they were.  I was helping a fellow worker move some of them.  They were very long and we had to take opposite ends.  One lesson I had learned early about lifting heavy objects was to bend at the knees to protect the back.  As we hoisted the timber, I felt a tear in my jeans followed by a stabbing pain in my thigh.  This plank had an old rusty nail protruding from one end and it had made a nasty gash in my leg.

I was hustled off to first aid and immediately dispatched to the hospital to get a tetanus shot. The needle found its target. Let’s just say that it got to the bottom of the matter.

Recognizing that I was now a serious threat to the mill (and myself!), I got my transfer papers and was moved to the maintenance crew.

All of the equipment in the mill had to be maintained. Time was money and they couldn’t afford to have work stoppages because of malfunctions.  My new job was to keep the machinery cleaned and oiled.  I wandered the floor like a gypsy, largely unsupervised, cleaning the huge machines that spit out sawdust and profits.  I spent a lot of time underneath conveyor belts and I will never forget the feeling of wet sawdust going down the back of my flannel shirt.

From Day One, my boss didn’t like me. It only took me two days to be able to say, with certainty, that the feeling was mutual.  He was a joyless, menacing troglodyte.  And I’m being charitable with this assessment.  No amount of draft beer at The Colony pub could shine a brighter light on him.

I had a pretty good work ethic and often finished my tasks long before the whistle blew to indicate the end of a shift. These gave me time to day dream and yes, even write letters.

My last day at the mill was like many others. With an hour to go and all my work done, I crawled under a conveyor belt, just far enough away to avoid the sawdust.  With pen in hand, I dashed off a note to my folks back home.  And then old sourpuss himself showed up unexpectedly.  He was in a near rage.  I had a broom beside me and after listening to his diatribe for about ten minutes; I grabbed it and threw it at him.  I said something to him and I don’t think it had anything to do with having a great day.  I had learned a lot of new language at the mill and I gave him my best shot.

I calmly walked to the time shack and punched out for the last time. I sauntered over to The Colony and sat with a frosty glass of beer, contemplating my next move.  Teaching, which had always intrigued me, was starting to look like a great alternative to a career in a saw mill.

And so the next chapter began … with a move back east.

Posted on October 2, 2014 under Thursday Tidbits with no comments yet

Bookmark December 4th. for my book launch at People’s Place Library 7:00 p.m.

 

 

When (!) you buy my second book, you will receive, absolutely free, this customized bookmark. It was designed by my good friend, Jean Pearcey of Jeanious Designs. She also designed the cover of the new book and my team is very pleased with the results.

It doesn’t happen often but every now and then I am fumbling around for a story idea. I mean, a fellow can’t be creative 365 days of the year. I have learned to be more attentive and a better listener, which I’m finding out, are good skills to hone if you’re a writer ( or a husband ). By the way, Betty gets a special award as 32 years ago today I said “I do” and she said “yes, you will!” Like most wives, she is a saint and has paved a direct path to heaven for putting up with me all these years.

Oh yes. That creativity thing. As long as I bump into a different person every day and those are good odds, I usually come away with a new story idea. Case in point, I bumped into someone yesterday. I asked him if all of his children were “off the payroll.” You all know what I mean by that. He mentioned that his daughter was currently in Ireland for a year, Cork to be exact.

Having been to Cork 10 years ago, I was able to get a good visual, especially my trip to the Blarney Castle to kiss the stone. That was a weird day looking back. It was a miserable weather day and we got lost several times before reaching our final destination. It’s funny how things don’t look too bad with the passage of time. Anyway, I decided to do a story. It’s called “Put a Cork In It. “ Coming soon.

I haven’t even published the story on going to the Capitol Theater as a kid and I’ve already had a lot of feedback. It seems everyone has a very clear visual of going to see a show on Saturday afternoon. There was a time that the town dump was in town over near the Public Works shed. One guy told me that he and his buddies used to go there on Saturdays ( garbage day back then ) to scavenge for beer bottles . They would then head to Pete Poirier’s and trade in the bottles for penny candy before heading to the show. He’s a little older than me. He paid .13 cents to get into the show. The ravages of inflation brought that to .37 cents when I was a kid. Stay tuned for “A Capitol Idea.”

This Saturday, I will be publishing part 3 of the trilogy “ Milling About.”

There is still a bit of chatter about last weekend’s weather. In the middle of summer, we expect warm days and gentle breezes. When this kind of weather comes out of nowhere at the end of the summer, it’s like a lottery win. If we could just find a way to bottle last Sunday.

Hope you have a great weekend.