Posted on March 24, 2015 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Busting a move

 

 

It all started in the Garden of Eden.   Since the beginning of time, men have been fascinated by their female counterparts.  Nowhere is this more prevalent (and dangerous, I might add) than when men dare to comment about a woman’s appearance.   In the this age of enlightenment and political correctness, it is a brave man indeed who pays a compliment to the fairer sex, unless he has been married to her for over 50 years.  (You’re a few years short of a home run, buddy … The editor.)

So most guys have to figure out other ways to earn respect on the domestic scene.  Thinking of becoming an explosives operator?  Try laundry duty if you really want to earn your danger pay.

Have you ever offered to wash your wife’s clothing?  Her undergarments, specifically?  I vividly remember my wedding vows.  When did “to have and to hold” turn into “to wash and to fold?”

My wife is a tax preparer and at this time of the year she is going flat out, which means that I take over a lot of the household chores.  I do a reasonably good job at putting a basic meal on the table and I am more than happy to do the dishes and other tasks.  This includes the laundry.  This is not a big deal as I did my own all through my twenties before getting married.  Washing men’s clothing is straight ahead.   You can pretty well fire everything in the wash machine, use hot water and let ‘er rip.  Take everything out of the wash machine and toss it all in the dryer: high heat.

Several years ago I surprised my wife by completing the weekend wash while she was at work.   I used the same tactics as I had employed years ago with my own dirty clothes.  This is when I found out that doing laundry, especially a woman’s unmentionables, is a very big deal indeed.  It didn’t take me long to figure out that only a fool (a man, of course) would knowingly launder his wife’s undergarments.

Most guys I know have a passing knowledge of bras.  Many could have discovered them for the first time while flipping through the Sears catalog.  Yes, as our fingers tripped through the pages, anxious to get to the sporting goods section, we would take a quick peek at women’s lingerie.  At least that’s what I’ve been told.

So, in order to save some of you poor slobs from suffering humiliating indignities, let me give you a few pointers about laundering bras:

Do not wash them in hot water. Never do this.  Ever.

Wash them all at once.  Apparently a solitary bra will die of loneliness unless it is washed with every other bra of its owner.  I have coined a new term for this: bra bunching.  This leaves me wondering what women wear when all the bras are in the wash at once.

Do not put them in the dryer… ever.  (They are called “delicates” for a reason – The editor)

I have been told by good sources that Victoria’s Secret sells women’s lingerie.

And what, pray tell, is Victoria’s secret?  Stick to your Stanfields, big guy.

Posted on March 23, 2015 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

“Arse over tea kettle”

 

 

In case you missed my “fall from grace” this past weekend, check out this video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Iv5gSmeTfs8. I was shovelling several feet of snow off the roof of our house and decided a leap into the snow bank was in order. It didn’t go according to script as you will see! I am currently using cream for the aching back. It’s called “revoltaren.”

Are you as sick as I am  hearing about the weather? I mean, it’s been tough but we do live in a Northern climate after all. We live on a dead end street so the whole snow removal business has been very challenging. One poor fellow has been out there every day for weeks hauling big scoops of snow some 50 yards away to the very end of the street. There is simply no other place to put it. The other day, I was walking home and I could hear a voice off in the distance. It was himself, leaning on the shovel, talking to the snowbank. I think he needs a break!

We’ve all been reading about the new anti terrorism legislation, Bill C-51. There is a new terrorism threat right in our back yard: over extended people wielding shovels. I have a message, nay, a warning for all of those people sending back those cheery photos  of themselves sipping cool drinks on the beaches in the Caribbean. Do not show up in the airport in Halifax ,deeply tanned, wearing something white to make sure you’re noticed. A group of winter warriors may impale you on the end of their shovels.

One final note on the weather. Last Friday was the first day of spring and coincidentally International Day of Happiness. This was preceded by the International Day of Misery on Thursday after digging out from another storm.

I spent the first day of spring enjoying the company of several people at the Days Gone By Restaurant ( and Bakery and Antique shop ) in Guysborough. We  had dinner and then I spent an hour telling stories and singing some tunes. It was a spectacular day and it was very inspiring to be able to look out at Chedabucto Bay in all its glory. The acoustics at days Gone By were first class. And, Aldona and staff are warm, kind people who serve up wonderful food.

Tomorrow’s story is called “Bra Beaten.”  It is a cautionary tale of how tricky it can be for a man to  launder his wife’s clothing. I can save men a lot of trouble. DO NOT volunteer to do your wife’s laundry.

Also waiting in the queue, is the story about an epic trip by train to Montreal in 1971. Four scraggly and dishevelled university students disembarked from the rail liner in the bowels of Union Station in Montreal in the middle of the “storm of the century.” Like many, I lament the passing of rail service in our part of the world. I still love getting on a train from time to time. Coming soon, “The Habs and the Hab Nots.”

Many of you will be familiar with journalist and author, Linden MacIntyre ( of Fifth Estate fame ). Linden will be coming to Antigonish on April 9^th. as the keynote speaker for the Chamber of Commerce President’s Dinner. Even if you are not a Chamber member, you can still go. Yours truly will be the MC and I plan to have a bit of fun that evening.

Here’s hoping everyone has a great week and let’s pray that Mother Nature gets over her major snit and gives us some spring weather.

Posted on March 21, 2015 under Storytelling with 2 comments

One of the iconic cable cars in San Francisco

 

 

Tip # 15: The importance of spontaneity

If you are traveling to Africa to go on a safari, you need an itinerary.  If you are on a road trip with no set timeline, be prepared to change gears quickly.

We had scarcely left Mexico when we found ourselves crossing the border into California.  Our friends had told us about the Imperial Sand Dunes but it was still a shock to see these mounds the size of mountains as far as the eye could see.  Pete quipped that it would be awesome to snowboard down one of the dunes.  Well, we just happened to have a snowboard with us, as he planned to do a bit of riding while in B.C.

I zipped off the very next exit and we found ourselves in the official park of the sand dunes.  People come from far and wide with their dune buggies, four wheelers and the like.  They camp there and spend endless hours traversing this incredible landscape.  It’s like someone simply dropped the Sahara desert in South Eastern California.  We lugged the gear up one of the mountains of sand, completed a photo shoot and headed north.

Tip # 16: DO NOT travel through L.A. at rush hour

Dante tried to describe hell in his classic book “The Inferno”.   Obviously he had never travelled to Los Angeles or he would have added a special chapter.

If you want to get to San Francisco and you find yourself in southwestern California, there’s no escaping Los Angeles, unless of course, you fly commercial or have a private jet.  We drove for several hours through thousands of acres of prime agriculture land.  You get a better understanding of why so much of our fruit and produce comes from this state during our long winter months.

We had decided earlier in the day, to take L.A. off our destination list.  We were starting to run short on time and the thought of fighting traffic in order to shop on Rodeo Drive just didn’t make sense!  However we still had to drive through the city and our timing could not have been worse.  At this point we were heading north and west and we arrived at rush hour with a blazing sun in our eyes.  Pete was at the wheel.  I was praying.  The traffic, needless to say, was fast paced, bumper to bumper and relentless.

It took an hour and a half to get to the far side of the city, and even then there was another full hour of six lane traffic heading somewhere.  It is my definition of insanity.

Tip # 17: It’s not the destination.  It’s the journey.

Yes, I know.  This is a trite, overworked expression but it certainly fills the bill for a trip like this.  Most times when people travel, they know where they’re going and when they’ll get there.  The trip is laid out in detail with reservations made weeks, if not months, in advance.  If you are lucky enough to have a trip with no set agenda, anything is possible.  And it truly becomes all about the journey.

Up to this point in the trip, our accommodations had been very good to excellent.  The law of averages eventually kicks in and so it was that on day 11 we had our first and only bad hotel experience, in Bakersfield, California.  It was late at night and we were both tired and needed to be off the road.  To add insult to injury, we had to go off the beaten path and actually backtrack to get there.  I won’t mention the hotel chain (it wasn’t our preferred choice), but the room was dirty, plain and simple.

The following morning we hit the road with San Francisco clearly in our sights.  Once again, we were amazed by the scope and size of the fruit and vegetable production, especially the citrus groves.  There was also another species of trees that we weren’t familiar with.  A quick Google search indicated that we were looking at almond plantations and discovered that California produces 90% of the world’s output of these popular nuts.

And then that oh so familiar smell.  In Fresno County we came upon another feedlot and this one dwarfed the one we had seen previously in New Mexico.  The Harris Ranch handles 100,000 head of beef cows at any one time for the production of 150,000,000 pounds of beef annually.  It is staggering to see this many animals in such cramped quarters.

We crossed the Bay Bridge from Oakland to San Francisco early in the afternoon.  We had been given a tip from my brother and drove to the Hotel Beresford in the heart of the city.  If you go to S.F. I highly recommend this hotel.  Inexpensive by S.F. standards and in a great location.  After unpacking, we decided to do the tourist thing and immediately jumped on the cable car going to Fisherman’s Market.  We concluded the day with a 2.5 hour sightseeing tour which started in brilliant warm sunshine and ended in frigid temperatures in the dark.  The long reach of the polar vortex, I suspect.

Tip # 18: “If you’re going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair” – San Francisco by Scott McKenzie

We spent most of the following day wandering the streets of this famous city.  Climbing up notoriously crooked and incredibly steep Lombard Street, I had visions of Steve McQueen in the chase scene of the 1968 classic “Bullitt”.  We had lunch at the oldest restaurant in California (Tadich Grill) and spent a good deal of the afternoon in Haight Ashbury and Golden Gate Park.  You will be happy to know that “The Haight” still has a few hippies wandering around; still lost in the 60’s by the look of it!

We crossed over the Golden Gate Bridge late in the afternoon and headed north, overnighting in Redding.

I truly believe that there is at least one Nova Scotian in every town and city in North America. (See Tip # 13 – Randomness). Checking my e-mail early the next morning, a friend from home mentioned that her son lives in Redding.  After confirming that he would be awake, I placed a call at 6:10 a.m. and we had a great gab.  Imagine two lads, one from Heatherton and the other from Antigonish, chatting it up over coffee in the wee hours of the morning, a continent away from home.

We hadn’t seen much of the Pacific Ocean coastline so we decided to head west on the 299 to Eureka.  The name Eureka comes from the Greek and means “I have found it,” a reference to the gold rush.  I was at the wheel and for the next 3.5 hours, we drove over one of the windiest roads we had ever been on. Think Cape Smokey on the Cabot Trail but much, much longer.  It was difficult to concentrate on the oft times stunning scenery while navigating one hairpin turn after another.

We emerged from the mountains and the vast Pacific Ocean, with its roaring waves, greeted us.  It was also the entrance to the Redwood National Park.  We often think that the Maritimes has a monopoly on beauty but this had to be one of the most scenic vistas that we encountered.  We found it interesting to see signs alerting the public that this was a tsunami zone.  You can see why.  There’s nothing but ocean between the West coast and Japan.

We walked through a redwood forest and realized how small and insignificant we were.

Another twisty, turny drive brought us back on to the I-5 … and more randomness.  Late into the evening, with Pete driving en route to Eugene, Oregon, I happened to noticed on FB that my nephew, well known photographer Dave Brosha, was flying in to Portland, Oregon that very evening.  A couple of messages later and a breakfast rendezvous was confirmed for the next day.

( To be continued )