No, really? It's over 50 years? Well, well. 50 years or more since first hearing Ian and Sylvia, referring to an up-and-coming Canadian folksinger, perform Gordon Lightfoot's Early Morning Rain at the hungry i club in San Francisco. It was the beginning of, well, a beautiful relationship, a lifetime enjoying Lightfoot's celebration of our country.
Grahame Woods, Northumberland Today
It's interesting, living beside neighbours who, outwardly, present as being very successful and progressive - but have certain unexplained peculiarities that, being polite, one turns a blind eye to, smiles and says 'Good morning. Beautiful day, isn't it?', when in fact there are rain clouds hovering on the horizon. Much like our neighbours to the s
Yes, hard to believe. For someone who has occasional, age-related memory concerns, I can see it as though, well, as though it was yesterday.
I don't know if there's any truth to the saying that things come in threes - but it did seem like that last week, opening my morning paper to see, on the Sport Section back page obituary, that former boxer, 95 year old Jake Lamotta, had died. He was a lucky one. In the same section of the paper was another story about a new device that hockey, foot
It's interesting how instincts, going back through time, haven't really changed in the animal world - being simply a variation on a theme. In nature's world, a lion will kill a Wildebeest, a Peregrine falcon a squirrel, a pack of wolves a deer, a dog will - well, mostly, curl up in front of a fire waiting for its lunch to be served in a dish. And t
Dem-o-crat-ic (dem-o-krat-ik) adj. In accordance with the principle of equal rights for all. (Oxford American dictionary)
What a brilliant idea.
Ah, the lazy, hazy dog-days of summer in Cobourg – imagining myself as a first-time visitor driving into to our town, my eyes taking in, depending on the route, the usual landmarks; Northumberland Hills Hospital, Victoria Hall, the churches, the beautiful tree-lined streets, especially King Street heading east.
What happened was ... the boy told his father, who talked to another father. The two of them talked to the vicar – and the curate left for another parish. It was never talked about again. By anyone.
It was another trip down Memory Lane, a journey that’s becoming more frequent with age.
For someone who has reached an age where memory is occasionally suspect, I can see the scene as though it was yesterday when, in fact, it was 62 years ago this coming Thursday; disembarking from the Empress of France (very appropriate) at Quebec City, stepping onto Canada’s shore on the first day of the rest of my life.
It’s a memory etched on my consciousness ... standing at the very end of a Canadian Pacific train looking out at the disappearing Quebec winter landscape, the train causing powdered, backlit snow to blow and gently drift onto tall, disappearing blue spruces and swaying pines, a perfect Canadian landscape framed by the train’s window.
“So...this is main street as we head east...bookended by two churches...the drug store on the north side, further down, Buttermilk Cafe. Across the road, the majestic town hall that some folk, once, shamefully, wanted to tear down...and there’s Hall’s jewellery store on the south side across from Woody’s...”
I don’t know how it is for other people but, over the years, my life seems to have unfolded in distinct stages, most remarkably leading to extremely rewarding opportunities and experiences and a life-in-full (to steal a Tom Wolfe’ line).
I am of an age where I can recall ‘the good old days’ - four-channel television, when Toronto was a liveable city and ... hmm ... well, you know what I mean.
In many ways, it’s a rite of passage. Acknowledgement that one is officially – old.
In my memory, it was as though it was this past Saturday – Hockey Night in Canada – and I was at Maple Leaf Gardens, able to get tickets (don’t ask) for my son and myself, about 10 rows back of a goal, watching Frank Mahovlich, The Big M, in full, graceful flow on the left wing, speeding toward us, cutting in on goal – he shoots, he scores!!
Alright, class, listen up. The assignment today – write a paper exploring civic responsibility in a small-town environment.
There are photographers – and then there are news-photographers.
The following is a partial transcript of a conversation recorded earlier this week between two Canada Geese moseying around Cobourg’s western harbour.