Posted on October 17, 2015 under Storytelling with one comment

Pushed to the braking point

 

 

It’s never easy losing a loved one especially when it’s your partner, travelling companion and best friend. The sense of loss is profound and everything changes. Old routines are replaced by new ones and shared chores now become a solo responsibility. Three weeks after the death of her husband, Judy was dealt a second blow when her dog, Mousse died. She was a 9 year old dog that was known as the “Yorkshire Terrorist.” This sounds like a bad joke or the lyrics to a country and western song. It was neither.

As September approached, she felt that she needed to get away from everything so she planned a trip, by car, to Ontario to visit a sister and several nieces and nephews. It would be a chance to relax and unwind and reassert her independence. When Judy got married, she said she traded in her driver’s license for a marriage license. Now she was going to hit the road, solo. It’s a good thing she packed her keen sense of humour.

Shortly after leaving Quebec for Ontario Judy heard a sound and quickly discovered that she had brake issues. This wasn’t a big surprise, as her vehicle was almost three years old and parts eventually wear out. She stopped at a service station and had the front and rear brakes repaired.

Judy had a great visit with family in Guelph, and on Labor Day weekend she headed out on the return trip, with a stop planned in Ottawa to see a friend. She was cruising in the express lane on the 401 just outside of Toronto. Hankering for a coffee, she noticed a sign for McDonald’s at the next exit. She risked life and limb by crossing eight lanes of traffic but safely reached the “Golden Arches”.   Reinvigorated with caffeine, she backed out of the restaurant’s parking lot. Luckily she was moving slowly as it became evident that she had no brakes at all.

She called a tow truck to take her to the nearest dealership. She was informed that her car would be looked at on Tuesday when they reopened for business. It was Saturday. The thought of a three night stay in Toronto didn’t hold a lot of appeal for Judy. When the service truck arrived, she jokingly asked if he might tow her to Ottawa. After checking with CAA and reviewing other coverages, she discovered that her out of pocket costs would be a measly $40. Off they went with Judy enjoying a relaxing conversation with the tow truck operator.

The car was dropped off at a dealership in Ottawa and she had a great visit with her friend. On Tuesday, her patience was put to the test when she found out that there was a complete rupture of the brake lines and that she would need a brake booster vacuum line, a master cylinder and one other obscure part. It was not like she had a lot of options so she signed off on the repairs. And then they informed her that the parts weren’t in stock and that it might take anywhere from 2 days to 2 weeks to get them. The service manager was fortunate that there was a counter separating him from Judy.

After several days of questionable communication (translation: little to none), Judy went back to the dealership. They had two of the parts and were waiting on the last. She informed anyone who cared to listen that she was either going to drive the loaner vehicle to Nova Scotia or fly home and have them deliver her car, if and when they fixed it. To make a long story short, they extracted the missing part from a brand new vehicle and, 10 days after this ordeal had begun, she was on her way back East.

She wasn’t much in the mood to tackle Montreal so she took a circuitous route through some gentle farm land to avoid the ungodly chaos of that city, with its never ending road construction. Not far from Levis, just across the river from Quebec City, she could tell that she had a flat tire. She got out of the car on a rural road and, sure enough, a screw had pierced the rubber. Luckily she had cell service and was able to find an English speaking tow truck driver, for which she was very grateful, as her lack of conversational French would have made communications difficult.

Having been shown the ropes by her father when she was a teenager, she had no trouble jacking up the car and removing the tire. Just as she was getting out the small donut sized spare, “Raymond to the Rescue” showed up. After a quick inspection, they realized that the spare tire would only be good for 40 kilometers and she had many miles to go before she slept. He agreed to put her car on his flatbed and tow it to a hotel adjacent to a garage.

Before he could move the car, he received a call. There was an emergency just up the road and he was instructed to go there immediately. Not wishing to leave a damsel in distress, he suggested that she climb in the cab with him and go for the ride. When they arrived at their destination they were met with a phalanx of police officers, police cars, sniffer dogs and other emergency responders. Yup, it became obvious very quickly that Raymond and Judy were at the scene of a major drug bust. The QPP seized the vehicle of the drug lords and instructed Raymond to deliver it to a private compound. Judy got an unexpected tour of that fine facility a short while later.

It was now late and getting dark. Raymond called his boss and a lengthy discussion in French ensued. They returned to Judy’s car to find a mobile service station parked behind her. Raymond’s boss fixed the tire with a patch kit and refused to take any money.

Judy had hoped to make it to Edmundston as she slipped on to 20 East at 10:00 p.m. She hadn’t driven very far when a wall of fog enveloped her car. The only objects she could really see were the warning signs for moose. She pulled off at the very next exit and found a motel.

After what seemed like an eternity, Judy arrived back at her beloved home. But, oh my, how the grass had grown in her absence. Despite the enormity of the property, she wasn’t worried as she had treated herself to a brand new ride on mower earlier in the summer. She jumped in the seat, flipped the switch and heard the gentle sound of the motor.

She put it in gear and started to make her first pass, but not before trying the brakes … just to make sure.

Posted on October 15, 2015 under Thursday Tidbits with one comment

Carefree Highway

 

 

Greasers! When was the last time you used that word that was oh so common back in the 60’s? It hadn’t entered my consciousness ( like a lot of other things these days! ) until yesterday. I was walking through town when a car roared by. A young kid with a mullet, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and a very loud “muscle car” drove, nay sped, up Church Street. It was almost like a chase scene from “Bullitt” with Steve MacQueen flying through the streets of San Francisco. Of course the dual mufflers had holes in them… for effect, I’m quite certain. I don’t know why, but the word “greaser” not only flashed across my cerebrum but the actual word came out of my mouth.

There. Glad to get that off my chest.

A good friend of mine recently lost her husband to cancer and her dog died three weeks after that. It sounds like a bad country and western song. I am not making light of her double tragedy. She has a great sense of humour among her many strong character traits. To make matters worse she lives quite a ways from town. She and her late husband always traveled together so much so that she rarely drove during the course of their marriage. In her words “ I gave up my driver’s license for a marriage license.”

She decided that she needed to take a road trip in September to re-establish her independence and relax and unwind a bit. Well, her car broke down… on the Labour Day weekend on the 401 outside of Toronto. What happened over the next 10 or so days couldn’t possibly be made up unless you were a Hollywood screen writer. Coming soon, “Judy’s Joyride” is the story of a strong woman who took adversity, gave it a good shake, laughed and managed to get through a string of car woes.

I am also putting the finishing touches on “Hidden Gems” which is the story of a rural country doctor and his wife who moved to a small community in the Cape Breton Highlands and ended up staying there for their entire married lives. They are two of the only people I know who uttered these words, “ we stayed because of the winters.” They were absolutely delighted with the 17 feet of snow that fell in the Highlands last winter. They are a delightful couple and I think you will enjoy hearing their story.

Thankfully, the Federal election will be over next Monday. I was one of the 3.6 million people who voted in the advance poll. Please get out and vote next Monday, regardless of your political persuasion.

As the poster above indicates, I will be doing the first of three book launches on Saturday, October 24^th. at 2:00 at the Cyril Ward Library in Guysborough. The second will be in Florida in early November and my Antigonish launch is Saturday , December 5^th. at the library. Hope you can make one of them. My new book will be available at the 5 to $1.00 at the end of the month. If you want to save yourself 15% tax, you can buy them directly from me.

Have a great weekend.

Posted on October 12, 2015 under Monday Morning Musings with no comments yet

Just “stringing you along”

( Peter MacDonald photo )

 

 

If I promise to never talk about nutrition and exercise again in this space, will you humour me and read this brief paragraph? I am 5 weeks into my new regime and I think that I have eaten every vegetable grown on the planet… or so it seems. I still walk about the same amount as I’ve always done. My energy level has improved markedly and the weight keeps coming off… 15 pounds and counting. I read an article the other day that really resonated with me. The line that jumped of the page went like this: “ You can’t exercise your way out of poor nutrition.” Exercise is such a small part of the equation. Had enough? Yup, thought so.

The story ideas keep on coming. The story about the Marian Boychoir is ready for publication. I have at least four others in the works. Last Friday, I paid a visit to some old friends who live in South Harbor. No, not South Side Harbor but South Harbor. I’ll save you from scurrying around for your atlases. Oh right, you’ll just Google it. Old people still use atlases! It’s somewhere between Neil’s Harbor and Cape North. Dr. Ken Murray has been practicing medicine there for 43 years. He and his wife Linda were born and raised in Halifax but found their piece of paradise in the Cape Breton Highlands. I’m going to write a story about this wonderful couple which I’ll publish in the Cape Breton Star and on my website. Look for “Hidden Gems” coming soon. BTW, any of you expatriate Cape Bretoners, The Casket keeps a supply of these papers ( free ) in the lobby of their building.

I will conclude by commenting on the outpouring of emotion on the death of Benny Druhan. His wake was held at his beloved St.Joseph’s Community Centre. I stood in line with hundreds of people for close to two hours to pay our final respects. As Benny would want and expect, there were lots of stories and plenty of laughter.

I wrote a short tribute on the weekend to Benny and close to 12,000 of you took the time to read this, with several hundred of you leaving comments. It’s hard to estimate the impact he made on people but based on what I witnessed on the weekend, he has left an indelible mark on the community. I was very proud to count him as a friend.

I hope that you all are having a great Thanksgiving weekend. There has been a lot of sadness visit our community lately. Please count your blessings.