Posted on May 19, 2015 under Storytelling with 3 comments

Sunrise at Bayfield Beach

 

 

“Get your motor runnin’

Head out on the highway”

Born To Be Wild – Steppenwolf

You start thinking about it when you flip the calendar over to May.  When is the Victoria Day weekend?

There is nothing quite as satisfying in life as the prospect of a long weekend, especially the first long weekend of spring.  After a very tough winter.  So, when the forecasters call for warm sunny weather, it is all you can do to concentrate on work.  Victoria Day Friday can be a particularly long day.  I haven’t conducted an exhaustive survey, but my bet is that the province of Nova Scotia suffers the largest drop in productivity on this Friday than on any other single day of the year.  Many working stiffs try to build up pious credits (or vacation days), so that they can pack up the car early and head out with their gear.  They are on their way to the shore or lake or campground … to open their summer hideaway for the first time since the cool fall winds of the previous year blew through.

Anticipation.  You can nearly taste it as you assemble your food and equipment.  You grab bedding, utensils, cleaning supplies and a brew or two and off you go.  Whether you are heading east from Halifax or west from Cape Breton, you can expect to meet thousands of other folks just like you traveling the highways and byways.  Road rage is at an all-time low as drivers find their “chilled out” gear.  If you’re lucky, you can put the roof down.  If you’re a biker, there’s no need for that.

Heaven.  The open road, sunshine, and three blessed days.

You arrive at your place of bliss.  You disembark and swat away the first black fly and watch the dandelions grow (rapidly!) right in front of your eyes.  You open the creaky door to the cottage or enter your camper and discover mouse droppings.  Far from being offended, you just accept this as nature’s way of saying “Welcome back”.

You do a bit of mandatory housekeeping, unload the groceries and, most importantly, plug in the fridge, praying that it hasn’t given up the ghost over the long winter months.  You grab a handful of lawn chairs, crack open a cold one and look out at the expanse before you.  If you are at the cottage, your number one priority is gathering the wood for the first fire of the year.  If you are in a campground, you have either brought your own or paid a king’s ransom for the luxury of not having to scavenge.

It is early evening on day one and you can scarcely control your euphoria.  You may have stopped at the wharf to pick up your first feed of lobster to go along with the barbequed steak.   Or maybe you decided to leave that until day two.  Sometimes a roasted hot dog is every bit as satisfying.

As the sun sets, you gather round the fire and prepare those rare eastern delicacies:  smores.  You are now 100% certain that summer has arrived.  Someone grabs a guitar and, within the first hour, your neighbors are coming to join in as the fourth verse of American Pie resonates under the starry sky.

The air is filled with the beautiful smell of wood smoke and peals of laughter can be heard from near and far.  Everything is right with the world.

You stand in awe and wonder as the sun sets over the horizon as it has thousands of times before.  But this one is extra special because it is the first one of the new season.

You know it’s getting late when everyone within 100 miles is singing the refrain to Barrett’s Privateers with incredible gusto.  And then silence descends on the land as the perfect day draws to a close.  You put your head on your pillow, or maybe you lie outside and stare up at the stars.  You hear the peepers off in the distance.

And you are one with nature … once again.

“But I hope and I pray we soon make our way to this old cabin again ….”

Oceanside Again – Sons of Maxwell

Posted on May 18, 2015 under Monday Morning Musings with 2 comments

“We stand on guard for thee”

 

 

As you read this, I am hoping that you are at the cottage or in a campground having your first coffee of the day. Everything tastes better when you’re vacationing. And the first real long weekend of the year is extra special.

Did you find any mouse droppings at the cottage when you opened it up for the first time in eight months? Did you encounter your first black fly? Did you sit around the fire pit and sing every verse of “American Pie?” Or “Barrett’s Privateers?”  I know many of you had your first feed of lobsters. After a hiatus of nearly a week ( still moving stuff out of our house prior to the closing ), I got busy on the weekend and wrote a couple of stories.

“Longing For Long Weekends” is a snapshot of the sights, sounds and smells of long weekends. With apologies to all you fervent gardeners, the story is mostly about the first trip to the cottage or the initial camping trip of the season. I ramble on about everything from the heavy traffic ( everyone leaves work early on the Friday of a long weekend ) to smores. It may not have the hype of Christmas but for pure anticipation, there’s nothing quite like the Victoria weekend.

And speaking of Barretts, the most memorable Victoria Day I ever had was back in the early 70’s when several family members descended on the home of then Premier of British Columbia, Dave Barrett. Confession. We had taken our father to the Victoria Day parade in Victoria and retreated to a pub not far from the Premier’s home. Well, one thing led to another ( you know how these things go! ) and before we knew it, we were sitting in the Premier’s living room. If you want to read the full story, just go to the search box on my home page and type in “ Grin and Barrett.”

I have almost finished the first book in the “Anne of Green Gables” series. I wasn’t sure if I would like it but it is beautifully written.

I did something this past week that I had never done before… and I did it twice. I went to see a chiropractor. I won’t bore you with my back issues as I am sure that almost every other person my age has some body part that hurts. I am quite encouraged with the early results. I have nothing bad to say about traditional medicine, but I have always been open to alternative treatments.

I said that I wrote two stories on the weekend. As regular readers know, from time to time, I like to shine the light on local businesses. Like many people, I have grave concerns about the plight of small business with the onslaught of online shopping and “out shopping.” If we don’t support our local merchants, who will we turn to when local charities and sports teams come a calling?

I can’t say too much about the story as I plan to keep it “under the dome “ (  Maxwell Smart ) until it is published. Don’t you miss “Get Smart?” … and “Mash?” There I go again, living in the past.

Have a great week.

P.S. Canada: Hockey: Golden!

Posted on May 16, 2015 under Storytelling with no comments yet

Les. A lesson about perspective

 

 

I recently completed a cross country trip with my son.  We traveled from Vancouver to Halifax via the northern United States, re-entering Canada at Windsor, Ontario.  There were spectacular sites and memorable moments.  We passed through the majestic Rocky Mountains and zipped through the Great Plains.  We saw territory very near the battlefield of the Little Bighorn known as Custer’s Last Stand.  We posed for photos at Mount Rushmore and saw one of the biggest car assembly plants in the world in Belvidere, Illinois.  And we ate many fantastic meals and a few that were anything but heart healthy.  We traversed a route of more than 6300 kilometers in just under six days.

Every trip has at least one memorable moment.  Mine was a side trip we made to visit a relative at St. Mary’s on the Lake in Kingston, Ontario.  It sounds like the name of a resort until you enter the front door and see the wall of wheel chairs.  You realize that you have entered a place of shattered bodies … and of healing.

My nephew was involved in a terrible accident eight months ago and he has made an amazing recovery. But he also faces some major hurdles.  He has a lot of company among the other residents.   A few of them will live the remaining days of their lives in this facility.

After a half hour of chatting with Mike in his room, we all made our way outdoors to a shelter erected for the smokers.  There I met Les and Willie. Willie is a quadriplegic and has been a resident for 20 years. Les was involved in a motorcycle accident five years ago and he, too, is a quadriplegic.  He has the use of one hand.  That’s it.  I got involved in a lively discussion with Les.  I noticed right away that he isn’t angry or bitter about his lot in life.

He told me about the accident and how he had lost just about everything; his home, his employment (he was a long haul trucker) and most of his worldly possessions, save for his beloved Harley tools.  Perched on his head was his prized leather Harley ball cap.

However, Les hasn’t lost it all.  His sense of humour is intact, as is his perspective.  He told me that there are a lot of people inside who are far worse off than he is.  I struggled with this thought momentarily. Willie was hanging on every word and, though his speech was garbled, he understood everything we were saying.

As we were nearing the end of our visit I asked Les what keeps him going.  What motivates him to face another day?  Do you know what he said?  “Being able to come outside and sit in the sun.”  Wow.  Too many of us are searching for life’s ultimate experience, and all Les needs is the warmth of a spring morning.

We took our leave.  I didn’t feel sorry for these folks; rather, I was moved by the resilience and the strength of character that I had just witnessed.

Sometimes, Les is more.