Fluff and I wish you all the merriest of all Christmasses and thank you for your numerous kindnesses and marks of true friendship towards us this last year. Big bear hugs all around !! My treat !!
P.S. Our card was conceptualized and photoshopped by Raccoon Hollow Enterprises' own top thinker and designer , Fluff La Rue
There is rarely a dull day around here so today was no exception. Yesterday was outdoor tree day ...........anchoring the firtree in its heavy iron stand against overzealous blustery winds or other wintry foes. Instead of the usual red and green lights this year I happily gave in to Fluff''s request and strung two sets of pure white LED lights , thereby enshrouding the Christmas fir in that " pure-as-the-driven-snow " glow. We likewise have decided that the tree shall be mobile this year...........at the front door , outside patio door , in corner of verandah , out by the road , etc
Since I was in a Christmasy mood this afternoon I set out up to harvest and fetch spuce and fir boughs with which to weave my Yule Wreath onto a frame I had already built beforehand..............Soooo up snd over the hump of snow along the road and laid down my aluminum ladder to step on rather than sink belly-button deep into Mother Nature's fluffy-white mantle. Now Merriam Webster and I don't see eye to eye on the definition of the word "bough " , portraying it as a branch of a tree and especially the main branch. Being brought up in rural New Brunswick I got my basic training in zoology and botony from my Dad and other elders of our wee community and for us a bough is a limb of all coniferous evergreen trees whereas a branch is its leafy-tree counterpart. I guess the song hinted in the title has got it right........Deck the halls with boughs of holly........... since science tells us the the holly tree is an evergreen.
Just as I finished clipping off the last bough I slipped off the ladder and sank hip - deep into the white stuff..... so I simply keeled over and rolled out to he roadside , dragging the ladder along with me as I rotated......thus the snowy look in the second picture.
Since I was in a Christmassy mood this afternoon I set out up to harvest and fetch spuce and fir boughs with which to weave my Yule Wreath onto a frame I had already built beforehand..............Soooo up snd over the hump of snow along the road and laid down my aluminum ladder to step on rather than sink hip deep into Mother Nature's fluffy-white mantle. Now Merriam Webster and I don't see eye to eye on the definition of the word "bough " , portraying it as a branch of a tree and especially the main branch. Being brought up in rural New Brunswick I got my basic training in zoology and botony from my Dad and other elders of our wee community and for us a bough is a limb of all coniferous evergreen trees whereas a branch is its leafy-tree counterpart. I guess the song hinted in the title has got it right........Deck the halls with boughs of holly........... since science tells us the the holly tree is an evergreen.
Just as I finished clipping off the last bough I slipped off the ladder and sank belly-button deep into the white stuff..... so I simply keeled over and rolled out to he roadside , dragging the ladder along with me as I rotated......thus the snowy look in the second picture.
For an instant the scenario before me sent my brain into idling mode and images of Christmas cards of yore flickered through my mind with slogans such as the once lofty but nowadays fast-fading wish of peace to all mankind ......... horse - drawn sleighs ploughing though the snow to midnight services at the village church .... bells a chiming and a tolling...... folks all bundled up in their winter finery , whiffs of smoke curling upwards from chimneys on snow-clad rooftops ,etc Just enough to give a guy that "warm fuzzy feeling"of well-being , hope and optimism.
Just then ....... out of nowhere........ Li'l Athol popped up......sitting there on my left shoulder whispering in my ear that well - known Seinfeldian existential question , "War , what is it good for ?" ...... adding somewhat philosophically that maybe more wars would bring more solutions to mankind's woes and injustices. I hesitated for a moment ...... then counterstruck with my own query , " Snow , what is it good for ? "The impish look on his face gave way to bewilderment so I explained that in recent history snow had "cooled down" the fiendish endeavours of two raving / conquering maniacs ( Napoleon and Hitler ) in their attempts at world domination.......... adding that maybe we could find a way to somehow hasten the return of another Ice Age so as to torpedo plans by any other warm-blooded fanatics hell-bent on taking over our majestic orb and its inhabitants.
This morning I arose earlier than is my usual wont , gazed out the patio windows and was awed by what I saw. Once again Mother Nature was retouching Her self-portrait and I was fortunate enough to have a front seat ..... there in the morning silence.......watching the Artist wield Her brush. A passage from Robert Service's " The Shooting of Dan Mc Grew" came to mind , " Were you ever out in the Great Alone when the moon was awful clear , and the icy mountains hemmed you in with a silence you most could hear ?" Yes ,it was that kind of morning ! A positively homespun , philosophical beginning to a great day !!
For an instant the scenario before me sent my brain into idling mode and images of Christmas cards of yore flickered through my mind with slogans such as the once lofty but nowadays fast-fading wish of peace to all mankind ......... horse - drawn sleighs ploughing though the snow to midnight services at the village church .... bells a chiming and a tolling...... folks all bundled up their winter finery , whiffs of smoke curling upwards from chimneys on snow-clad rooftops ,etc Just enough to give a guy that "warm fuzzy feeling"of well-being , hope and optimism.
Just then ....... out of nowhere........ Li'l Athol popped up......sitting there on my left shoulder whispering in my ear that well - known Seinfeldian existential question , "War , what is it good for ?" ...... adding somewhat philosophically that maybe more wars would bring more solutions to mankind's woes and injustices. I hesitated for a moment ...... then counterstruck with my own query , " Snow , what is it good for ? "The impish look on his face gave way to bewilderment so I explained that in recent history snow had "cooled down" the fiendish endeavours of two raving / conquering maniacs ( Napoleon and Hitler ) in their attempts at world domination.......... adding that maybe we could find a way to somehow hasten the return of another Ice Age so as to torpedo plans by any other warm-blooded fanatics hell-bent on taking over our majestic orb and its inhabitants.
In the Fall of 1929 a major fire was reported at the far end of Douglas Avenue , Saint John , New Brunswick. The firestation doors opened wide on nearby Main Street and out rolled the horse-drawn engine ..... firefighters hanging from both sides. As they rounded the corner heading out Douglas Avenue the heavy vehicle tipped over crushing two firemen underneath its weight.... the eight horses panicked and bolted forward dragging the unfortunate victims along with them. A young 26-year-old man sprang from the crowd loitering there on the corner , jumped in front of the two lead horses.... grabbing each by the halter..... and managed to stop the runaways...... thereby bringing a halt to the tragic mishap. The young man's name was Edmund McNulty , or McAnulty as they wrote it back then.....and he was my Dad ........ and I buried him 21 years ago today.
One half hour earlier he had stepped down from the train at Union Station after a two-year jaunt out West in Alberta where he had driven teams of horses dragging huge loads of felled timber down to the sawmills from the Crow's Nest Pass in the Rockies and also working wheat harvesting on the Canadian Prairies. The above picture was taken that very day at Union Station with his travelling buddy " Hum " Cronin. My Dad ( glasses and flowing white scarf ) told me that he and "Hum" had bought their suits in Moose Jaw and had spruced up and donned them about a half hour before their arrival in Saint John after a five-day train trip ...... to impress the hell out of their old cronies and especially for the girls.... so he said !!
According to his buddies ..... were it not for the proverbial dog , my father could easily have been chosen " man's best friend". His work mates vied to pair up with him in the workplace because he always pulled his load. He was no slacker ! Later on men would line up to work under his orders when he was longshore boss because he was fair and just to all. As for his being a great husband and father...... well , whether he' d had an exhausting , rough 'n tumble day on the docks with his men or a rowdy evening at McLaughlin's Pool Hall carousing with his "bummy" friends I would always fall asleep listening to the murmur of my parents' voices....... down on their knees bedside in the adjacent room.......... telling their beads before turning in for the night.
In the Fall of 1929 a major fire was reported at the far end of Douglas Avenue , Saint John , New Brunswick. The firestation doors opened wide on nearby Main Street and out rolled the horse-drawn engine ..... firefighters hanging from both sides. As they rounded the corner heading out Douglas Avenue the heavy vehicle tipped over crushing two firemen underneath its weight.... the eight horses panicked and bolted forward dragging the unfortunate victims along with them. A young 26-year-old man sprang from the crowd loitering there on the corner , jumped in front of the two lead horses.... grabbing each by the halter..... and managed to stop the runaways...... thereby bringing a halt to tragic mishap. The young man's name was Edmund McNulty , or McAnulty as they wrote it back then.....and he was my Dad ........ and I buried him 21 years ago today.
One half hour earlier he had stepped down from the train at Union Station after a two-year jaunt out West in Alberta where he had driven teams of horses dragging huge loads of felled timber down to the sawmills from the Crow's Nest Pass in the Rockies and also working wheat harvesting on the Canadian Prairies. The above picture was taken that very day at Union Station with his travelling buddy " Hum " Cronin. My Dad ( glasses and flowing white scarf ) told me that he and "Hum" had bought their suits in Moose Jaw and had spruced up and donned them about a half hour before their arrival in Saint John after a five-day train trip ...... to impress the hell out of their old cronies and especially for the girls.... so he said !!
According to his buddies ..... were it not for the proverbial dog , my father could easily have been chosen " man's best friend". His work mates vied to pair up with him in the workplace because he always pulled his load. He was no slacker ! Later on men would line up to work under his orders when he was longshore boss because he was fair and just to all. As for his being a great husband and father...... well , whether he' d had an exhausting , rough 'n tumble day on the docks with his men or a rowdy evening at McLaughlin's Pool Hall carousing with his "bummy" friends I would always fall asleep listening to the murmur of my parents voices....... down on their knees bedside in the adjacent room.......... telling their beads before turning in for the night.
