" If I Ever Catch Anyone Shaking This Damn Thing Again , I'll....."

A Tree Falls in The Forest !!

 

Whether or not the tree screamed out ,  burped , wept , sang or whistled as it came crashing down to earth

Happy Easter To Everybody !! Fridge / Freezer Overflow !!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You are all invited to our home for the Easter meal. You will have a choice of leg of lamb , grain - fed youthful turkey or Schneider's smoked ham ...... maybe even a combo of all three . What is your favourite Easter meat ? Our backyard rooster , Foghorn , is watching over the meats in the snowbank since the fridge is full........keeping the raccoons at bay.. Happy Easter to you all !!

Radix Arboris Treeroot !

 

           Quidquid movetur .......... movetur ab alio !

A Walking Tour ! Bring a Shovel !!

Lá Fhéile Pádraig Shona Daoibh ! Happy St. Patrick's Day To You All !!

 

Foreword : My heartfelt thanks and love go out to Rebkin of Raccoon Hollow Enterprises for creating the most artistic and appropriate background setting for today's Saint Patrick's Day blog. Very few of you visited my blogsite a year ago .... and since I don't believe I could make my good wishes any warmer to you all .... I am reposting part of the same message in today's blog. The Ode to the Gaelic Language by an unknown poet is very precious to me and as the old proverb says , " Tír gan teanga , tír gan anam ".... a country without a language , a country without a soul ! I am adding two final lines of my own to the poem at the end. And I'll  round out the post by a wee Irish chuckle ........ typical but one you have not heard too often..... I hope ! 

I found the pic above in a young lady's blog who was showing her readers around her home town ..... Cork or Corcaigh .... in Ireland. Unfortunately I have never been able to find her site since then so that I might ask permission to use it in today's salute to everything and everybody Irish...... so I shall simply presume her approval for such a good cause.

For me this wee pub , An Teach Beag or The Little House , symbolizes the warmth of the Irish way of life as well as the Irish people itself .......... small , clean , inviting , quaint...... and the fiddle and " bodhrán " ( winnowing drum ) repliqua hanging on the wall suggesting that it is a place for " ceol " ( music ) or perhaps even a " céilí " or social evening / gathering .......... and who knows ? Maybe also a few pints of Guinness as the sign would suggest " Guinness Gach Lá "..... Guinness every day ! The flowering window box likewise adds a bit of personal charm. The oldtimers always said that if the conditions and mood were right ..... an epidemic of friendliness and mirth could break out at any moment..... and it was highly contageous to all trapped ....... yeah quarantined .......inside.

So I would like to raise my glass to my enemies' enemies and especially to you , a chairde (my friends ) and may you cross the threshhold of the Pearly Gates at least a half hour before the devil finds out you're dead.......... and may the latter not happen in the near future .

Seo mo sheal ! Caith siar é agus ná lig aniar é !! So this is my round..... now throw it back down and don't let it back up !!

An Ghaeilge
Is mise an Ghaeilge
Is mise do theanga
Is mise do chultúr
D'Úsáid na Filí mé
D'Úsáid na huaisle
D'Úsáid na daoine mé
is d'Úsáid na lenaí
Go bródúil a bhí siad
Agus mise faoi réim.Ach tháinig an strainséir
Chuir sé faoi chois mé
Is rud ní ba mheasa
Nior mhaith le mo chlann mé
Anois táim lag
Anois táim tréith
Ach fós táim libh
Is beidh mé go beo.
Tóg suas mo cheann
Cuir áthas ar mo chroí
Labhraígí mé
Ó labhraígí mé!

I am Irish
I am your language
I am your culture
The poets used me
The nobles used me
The people used me
and the children used me
Proud they were
And I flourishedBut the stranger came
He suppressed me
Something worse than that was
my own people rejected me
Now I am weak
Now I am feeble
But still I am with you
and I will be forever.
Raise up my head
Put joy in my heart
Speak me
Oh speak me!

And I add ,

Scríobhigí mé agus ( Write me and )

Léigí mé ( Read me )

A language which is not only spoken but also written and read has a much greater chance of survival. 

And now the promised chuckle. Beannachtaí Pádraig oraibh ! St. Pat's Blessings on you all !

A man was on a walking holiday in Ireland. He became thirsty so decided to ask at a home for something to drink. The lady of the house invited him in and served him a bowl of soup by the fire. There was a wee pig running around the kitchen, running up to the visitor and giving him a great deal of attention. The visitor commented that he had never seen a pig this friendly. The housewife replied: "Ah, he's not that friendly. That's his bowl you're using."

Mona's Challenge : Native Designs and Patterns !!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I realize that I am not fully complying to the strict rules of Mona's excellent Friday Dare but I thought I would put a few examples on native designs we have here in our home. The socks an old Innu lady knitted for me as a retirement gift. Maliseet warclub given to me by Chief Abner Paul , his Hawk Clan heads sculpted on the dangerous end and his wife's Snake Clan on handle. My Inuit - Naskapi hat.Attikamekw walking cane with deer -hoof tip , Attikamekw "écuelle " or ladle sculpted from birch knot... hollowed out... , Attikamekw birchbark basket with beaver and moose etchings , same ladle with salmon etching on side.This one's for you , Mona ! Hugs !

We Are Always Somebody's Eskimo !!

 

It was the Summer of 1972 and I found myself at La Macaza , Québec ..... north of Montréal..... with about 70 native language teachers representing the seven major linguistic groups from all over the province. It's one thing to speak your language well .... but it's quite another game to teach it.... and teach it well !! And that is why we linguists were there ..... to help the young teachers reflect upon the workings of their specific tongues ...... avoir une pensée réfléchie sur le fonctionnement de leurs propres langues.....so as to be better able to explain them to their students back in their respective village schools..

One afternoon I was doing a workshop session with the Attikamekw group when a dozen or so Inuit women waltzed into my classroom...... talkative Edna Padlayat at their head. Now they could neither speak directly to he Attikamekw through their mother tongue.... for evident reasons..... nor through their second language since the Attikamekw used French and the Inuit used English..... so Edna asked me to interpret for them. She said that her people wanted the other groups to refer to them as Inuit and not as Eskimo , a term they considered to be highly offensive. ..... and even warned that if the "Indians " did not comply to their wishes that they ... the Inuit... would call them.... the "Indians " by the Inuktitut ( Inuit language ) pejorative word for them !! My first reaction was to say , " Let's all calm down , get out the tobacco and we smokum peäcepipe ! Just kidding ! No , I told Edna and her gang that I would give their message to the other native peoples and get back to them later  that same afternoon. So off the Inuit went.

In the meantime the Attikamekw people were just sitting there bewildered by it all .... not understaning what was being said. So I explained to them the gist of the Inuit request....... including the ultimatum. Their immediate reaction was anger .... and they wanted to know the "evil word " the Inuit used for "Indians "...... so I told them. " Iqqiliit "  which means "lice larvae bearers"..... and this really made the pot boil over !

To defuse the whole situation I reminded the Attikamkw that they themselves had lived with a similar problem for hundeds of years ..... a problem they had only recently resolved  both legally as well as from a sociological and media standpoint. Until 1970 they had been known in historical and anthropological literature and throughout Quebec by the less than flattering name Têtes - de - Boule or   Ballheads / Roundheads.so they notified the the federal and provincial governments , the media  , universities , etc that they were officially taking back their original name "Attikamekw Iriniak "... The Whitefish People . ... and vigourously rejecting the former scurrilous nickname. And now  , two years later , their request had been heeded to the grand satisfaction of all concerned.

Now before this post turns into a shaggy dog story in length I shall come to the point. Somewhere ....sometime .....someone began referring to the native people inhabiting the Arctic regions with the nomenclature "Eskimo ".... and it stuck! This term was believed  to mean "raw meat eater " .... and it likewise unfortunately stuck ! The truth of the matter is that the word "Eskimo " is  a White Man's pisspoor rendition of a perfectly positive  Cree word " ayaskimaw / ayastchimew ".... he / she speaks a foreign language . What is so frightening about this misnomer / monumental boner is that it has spread worldwde. While teaching at the Université de Bordeaux , France in 1991 I asked my students ... just for fun..... what the word Eskimo meant and 200 voices boomed back at me in unison , " mangeur de viande crue "..... "raw meat eater ". Just another case of the whiteman's misunderstanding and misuse of words borrowed from native North American languages .......... Many of us know how much wood a woodchuck could chuck but are unable to identify the animal when asked to do so. The word is on loan from any one Algonquian language " udjakw , oodjik or utchakw " and refers to a muskrat and not to the groundhog or marmot as informed North Americans think it does !   On this I rest my case !!  

P.S. I met with Edna and thee Inuit people later and explained in great detail what I have just summed up in these few lines That evening we held a social get-together for everybody and from that day onwards harmony ruled the campus...... so to speak.

P.S.2 My blogpost title is a rough translation of the title of the article  " On est toujours l'Esquimau de quelqu'un " , written by José Mailhot , Jean - Paul Simard and Sylvie Vincent in the review Études/ Inuit Studies , 1980 , No.4 .... an excellent artcle which shed light on and settled the question once and for all.

Entry for March 13, 2008 What I Might Have Been !!

When I was a lad all the little old ladies in my entourage were constantly patting me gently on the head , asking me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Now since most of these ladies were devout Catholics and to please them I often answered that I wanted to become a priest............ which I almost did after spending 13 years in the Redemptorist Fathers' minor and major seminaries. ......However , the priesthood was not what the GREAT DESIGNER had in mind for me. Nevertheless , I knew one thing with both moral and metaphysical certitude ......... whatever my specific calling might be.........I wanted to work with different peoples of diverse cultural and linguistic backgrounds........ to discover how they think , explain and needlepoint their universes ......... phenomena necessarily mirrored in the languages they speak. And that is more than likely the motivating reason underlying my choice of a long career in anthropological linguistics. And I have loved every instant of it too !

It is no secret that the older we get , the longer the road of memories behind us....... and the shorter the road ahead , the one taking us to the Great Encounter. I am well along that road at the present moment and often look back at other callings I might have answered to throughout my life. First of all I have always wanted to be a " seanchaí " or storyteller ....... grab folks' interest with gripping tales about the Grogach , Banshee , leipreacháin , Cluricaun , Fear Dearg , Fear Gorta , Púca , Dullihan , the Mellows and many more ..... all the fairies who populate the ephemeral and real world of the Irish people. Working on the Montagnasi language here in Québec I spent literally days upon days with the elder " Kayatnutshest " .....the storytellers or custodians of oral tradition....... who told me of the heroes and villains .... who inhabited both the real and spirit world ......... or in our midst , yet invisible ! Here are but a few of them. Kwekwatshew , Atchen , Wananawiw , Memintaiew , Meshapush , Tuhis , Tshakapesh , Ayahis , Tshihai , Papakahtshihkw , Maiati , etc I could easily write a book about each and everyone of these aforementioned individuals.

Another form of storytelling ...... at least in my books !.......is joketelling ! During my barfly days it was a well - known fact .......based on close observation....... that those bars where good quality jokesters hung out during Happy Hour drew big crowds and proved to be an asset to the barowners. I still remember my buddies Laurent Crépeault and Nils Gautier go at it back and forth , one feeding off the other for one or two hours non stop...... and folks just lapped it up and loved it.I would chip in now and then and get a few laughs but soon realized that I was in the presence of greatness.Over the years I did improve but just then along came retirement....... and my withdrawal from the bar scene followed soon after.

Blessed with a better than " fair to middlin " voice and musical ear I would have likewise loved to be a bard , roaming far and wide across the land performing while searching for patrons to encourage and finance my artistc ambitions ...... all the while accompanying my poems on harp or guitar. Well , I did learn how to play the latter .... not very well though ....but well enough to accompany myself or others in singsongs around campfires , at Christmas partys , birthdays , weddings , stage productions , etc I even won first prize for strummin' and beltin' out The One - Eyed Purple People Eater on board the Ryndam in 1959 somewhere between Montreal and Southhampton , England. LOL

As I look back now with matured hindsight I believe I was influenced by a "great unknown " or rather "greatly unknown " 18 th - century Irish bard by the name of Toirdhealbhach Ó Cearbhalláin , better known to the English - speaking world as Turlough O' Carolan. Although blinded by smallpox at the age of 18 Summers , Turlough managed to travel high and wide throughout Ireland .... from estate / manor house / castle to estate / manor house / castle composing and singing ballads at the behest of his hosts and was rewarded in return with money , food and lodgings. Armed with a sharp wit , a melodious voice and a "mean "harp Turlough was both loved and feared by his host. If he treated the harpist well then Turlough would sing his praises whereas were he treated poorly Turlough would compose a catchy but scurrilous ballad about the host which would then spread like wildfire among the local gentry and population. One such incident comes to mind ..........

One weekend while performing for some cantankerous rich old lady and her guests he was informed that the "good woman " had cut off his "open bar "privileges since he was known to be rather "fond "of " uische beatha " or the "water of life "! Undaunted Turlough went down to the wine cellar where he confronted O'Floinn , the chief steward. O'Floinn likewise refused him so O'Carolan went back to the reception and composed a ballad about the man and his hostess. It's very long so I'll just give one verse.

Mo chreach , a Dhiarmuid Uí Fhloinn ,

Nach tú ar dhoras ifrinn,

Ós tú nach leigfeadh neach dod chóir ,

In áit a mbeitheá a 'do dhárseóir

What a pity that Hell's Gates are not kept by O'Flynn ,

So surly a dog would let nobody in !

P. S. I would also give my eye teeth to be able to play the fiddle !!

"Go look for it , little doggy !"

With all the snowfall records being shattered this Winter the cartoonists are having a fieldday. Last Saturday's Big Dump was so abondant and violent that hndreds of motorists were obliged to abandon their cars wherever they became stuck.... so since yesterday morning you can see them atop huge mounds of snow and snowdrifts ..... armed with long bamboo poles sounding the depths and hoping to find their wheels before some big municipal snowplough or blower rams into them first.  Just another newsy tidbit of info from Polecat's Friendly Quick Facts News Agency.  

Who I Might Have Been !! What Else I Might Have Done !

 

When I was a lad all the little old ladies in my entourage were constantly patting me gently on the head  , asking me what I wanted to be when I grew up. Now since most of these ladies were devout Catholics and to please them I often answered that I wanted to become a priest............ which I almost did after spending 13 years in the Redemptorist Fathers' minor and major seminaries. ......However , the priesthood was not what the GREAT DESIGNER had in mind for me. Nevertheless , I knew one thing with both moral and metaphysical certitude ......... whatever my specific calling might be.........I wanted to work with different peoples of diverse cultural and linguistic backgrounds........ to discover how they think , explain and needlepoint their universes ......... phenomena necessarily mirrored in the languages they speak. And that is more than likely the motivating reason underlying my choice of a long career in anthropological linguistics. And I have loved every instant of it too !

It is no secret that the older we get , the longer the road of memories behind us....... and the shorter the road ahead , the one taking us to the Great Encounter. I am well along that road at the present moment and often look back at other callings I might have answered to throughout my life. First of all I have always wanted to be a " seanchaí " or storyteller ....... grab folks' interest with gripping tales about the Grogach , Banshee , leipreacháin , Cluricaun , Fear Dearg , Fear Gorta , Púca , Dullihan , the Mellows and many more ..... all the fairies who populate the ephemeral and real world of the Irish people. Working on the Montagnasi language here in Québec I spent literally days upon days with the elder " Kayatnutshest " .....the storytellers or custodians of oral tradition....... who told me of the heroes and villains .... who inhabited both the real and spirit world ......... or in our midst , yet invisible ! Here are but a few of them. Kwekwatshew , Atchen , Wananawiw , Memintaiew , Meshapush , Tuhis , Tshakapesh , Ayahis , Tshihai , Papakahtshihkw , Maiati , etc I could easily write a book about each and everyone of these aforementioned individuals.

Another form of storytelling ...... at least in my books !.......is joketelling ! During my barfly days it was a well - known fact .......based on close observation....... that those bars where good quality jokesters hung out during Happy Hour drew big crowds and proved to be an asset to the barowners. I still remember my buddies Laurent Crépeault and Nils Gautier go at it back and forth , one feeding off the other for one or two hours non stop...... and folks just lapped it up and loved it.I would chip in now and then and get a few laughs but soon realized that I was in the presence of greatness.Over the years I did improve but just then along came retirement....... and my withdrawal from the bar scene followed soon after. 

Blessed with  a better than " fair to middlin " voice and musical ear I would have likewise loved to be a bard , roaming far and wide across the land performing while searching for  patrons to encourage and finance my artistc ambitions  ...... all the while accompanying my poems on harp or guitar. Well , I did learn how to play the latter .... not very well though ....but well enough to accompany myself or others in singsongs around campfires , at Christmas partys , birthdays , weddings , stage productions , etc I even won first prize for strummin' and beltin' out The One - Eyed Purple People Eater on board the Ryndam in 1959 somewhere between Montreal and Southhampton , England. LOL  

As I look back now with matured hindsight I believe I was influenced by a "great unknown " or rather "greatly unknown " 18 th - century Irish bard by the name of Toirdhealbhach Ó Cearbhalláin , better known to the English - speaking world as Turlough O' Carolan. Although blinded by smallpox at the age of 18 Summers , Turlough managed to travel high and wide throughout Ireland .... from estate / manor house / castle to estate / manor house / castle  composing and singing ballads at the behest of his hosts and was rewarded in return with money , food and lodgings. Armed with a sharp wit , a melodious voice and a  "mean "harp  Turlough was both loved and feared by his host. If he treated the harpist well then Turlough would sing his praises whereas were he treated poorly Turlough would compose a catchy but scurrilous ballad about the host which would then spread like wildfire among the local gentry and population. One such incident comes to mind ..........

One weekend while performing for some  cantankerous rich old lady and her guests he was informed that the "good woman " had cut off his "open bar "privileges since he was known to be rather "fond "of  " uische  beatha " or the "water of life "! Undaunted  Turlough went down to the wine cellar where he confronted O'Floinn , the chief steward. O'Floinn likewise refused him so O'Carolan went back to the reception and composed a ballad about the man and his hostess. It's very long so I'll just give one verse.

Mo chreach , a Dhiarmuid Uí Fhloinn ,

Nach tú ar dhoras ifrinn,

Ós tú nach leigfeadh neach dod chóir ,

In áit a mbeitheá a 'do dhárseóir

What a pity that Hell's Gates are not kept by O'Flynn ,

So surly a dog would let nobody in !

P. S. I would also give my eye teeth to be able to play the fiddle !!

Swedish Biscuits and Homemade Beans !!

 

Dear Cindy Anne way down there in sunny Texas where this latest storm began was wondering whether we had stocked up on supplies for this kind of storm. Well , we have  literally oodles of food..... and should the power go out , then we don our boots and dig a tunnel out to this little baby.... my outdoor oven....... somewhere out in the backyard behind the house. I always keep lots of flour , yeast and water is , of course, no problem. In fact , frozen water in the form of snow , IS THE PROBLEM ! And in no time flat Fluff could mix up a batch of Swedish biscuits while I would cook up a small crock of Quebec style homemade beans . Just another tidbit of info from polecat's almanac !   ..

Over The Top !!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is not a blog as such but rather a wee bit of info to help our friends throughout the word  better understand the snow situation here where we live. On left you can read February 22 , 2007 while on right is a picture I snapped this afternoon from the same vantage spot on the gallery. I might also add that Statistics Canada has been broadcasting of late that we have not had this much snow since just before the War began in 1939.  My greenhouse is 9 - foot high in the middle so you do the math !! 

P.S. We are presently getting whacked once again by a jim dandy of a snowstorm which will probably dump another 40 cms on this area. 

 

" Can She Cook ? "

 

This afternoon I was sitting in my car in front of our IGA supermarket just minding my own business ..... simply whiling away the time ...... while Fluff ran a few errands inside. A wee old lady exited the store and headed in my direction. I noted she was carrying two bags.... one with three big cartons of milk ( easily identifiable through the thin plastic sack ) , the other with a stock of celery stickng out of the top. I remember the milk because I said to myself , " Good girl ! Milk's good for a "seanbhean " like yourself !" Now all this time I was listening to the radio and recall seeing just her silhouette pass by the pasenger side of my car. Then followed two loud thuds on the trunk of the car. I started to spin around ..... when all of a sudden the passenger door flew open and an arm .... and a hand , of course .... ... shot inside . It was the old lady and she was reaching the for lock  button on the back door !! She looked at me and immediately went red and flustered .... explaining that her husband had an indigo - coloured Toyota Corolla like mine. Truly an honest mistake !   

The poor woman , in a moment of distraction , had walked right by her husband sitting in his car almost directly across from me and was now trying to go home with me. LOL. He had seen her walk by and let her go. At the very moment she was pointing  him out to me the old fellow stepped out of his car so I stuck my head out the window and called out to him , "Can she cook ? If she can , I'm keeping her !" He laughed back and it ended there. That was the second time on the same parking lot in the last 15 years. That first time the woman got in and closed the door before she realized she was in the wrong car with the wrong guy !! 

Reindeer Population on the Wane in Saami Norway

 

This post is by no means meant to portray pornography but is rather a simple visual , explanatory reference to Mother Nature's great design with regards to Dasher , Dancer , Prancer and Vixen's way of propagating the species. Most of you already know that I worked for a number of years among the Saami ( Laplanders ) of Northern Finland... adjacent territory to Saami Norway. Last week a friend of mine sent me an article entitled " Reinsdyr i brunst " or " Reindeer in Heat " wherein the Saami bemoan the steady decrease in their reindeer population. It is my firm belief that the above picture explains the whys and wherefores without proposing the solutions. For your information..... the short - horned ones are the females whereas the tall - antlered ones are the bucks !

Keeping It Cool Before Westinghouse !

 

Today's epilogue about pre - refrigeration days is an afterthought to yesterday's ruminations on Carnation milk. Keeping perishable foods safe for human consumption has always been one of mankind's main concerns...... and we were no exception to that Golden Rule back in the 30s and 40s when I was a lad in Pokiok .

First of all my Dad dug a giant hole in our backyard not far from the house , brought home two huge oaken hogs - head barrels from the docks and sunk them there ....... making sure that at least three quarters of both were well below the frost line. Into one he would put his dahlia tubers , rosebushes and various bulbs in late Fall so as to keep them safe from the harsh winter and ready for early budding  the following Spring  The other hogs - head would serve as kind of a root cellar for vegetables  from his garden.... potatos , squash , beets , onions , turnips , etc and he always kept the snow shovelled away from the cover for easy access during the cold months. I can still see the big scoop he had made from a long stick wih an old coffee can nailed to the end.... like a soup ladel... he used to retrieve vegetables from the sunken barrel. Finally there was this massive earthenware container..... an enormous crock with a heavy lid that Dad had lain hands on somewhere and managed to drag home. He sank it also into the earth right beside the other two ......but would use it for other foodstuffs mainly during the more clement seasons as a kind of "cool spot ". 

During the winter months we kept a rather impressive galvanized tub in the back porch which was boarded in where my folks kept smaller , frequently used items such as eggs , butter , milk , meats, etc.This was our version of an icebox. My Dad would leave metal pails outdoors half full of water overnight so they could feeze solid...... then bring them inside , set them on the stove for ten minutes or so to permit  the ice to  loosen up a bit around the sides ... then pop them into the tub in the back porch... throw a thick blanket over it and we were in business. In late Winter ..... maybe towards the end of March.... the men from our community would saw up 18 - square - inch hunks of ice from the Twin Ponds... our skating rinks.... and store them in a nearby  shack ... covered with sawdust and wood shavings. In this way we had ice well into the month of July..

In closing I would like to add that I have been blessed with two healthy sons.... now in their early 40s. Both pay very close attention to what's written on food labels as to the expiry dates and if it says "better before March 5th ", they will not eat it on March 6th ! They are a bit "persnickety " in that respect I guess !  I keep telling thm about my youth ... and before me ..... when folks simply used their common or horse sense to tell them whether  something was  edible or not. My counsels seem to fall on deaf ears.  

Ode To Carnation Milk !!

 

I was 15 years old before my folks brought a frigidaire into the house. Maybe Cindy Anne or JIm remember some of the whiskery ´jokes from that era....... What did Elmer Fudd say when they caught him sleeping in the refrigerator ? He simply excused himself saying that he thought it was a " Westinghouse " !! It was , in fact , a Westinghouse that they bought and it is still workig well in my basement where I have converted it into a freezer.Now since refrigeration in private homes was not common in my area until the early 50s we depended greatly on daily milk delivery when it was available during the war and even afterwards so folks counted on and stockpiled , when possible , cans of evaporated milk........ either Borden's or Carnation . I can still envision the Borden cow , Elsie and the slogan.... "good milk from contented cows ".... I wonder how they figured out whether the cows were happy or not ? And when Roy Meade dropped off our two quart bottles of milk at the back door at 5: 30 a.m. on a cold Winter morn ...... and going to get them at 8:00 a.m. .... finding three - inch columns of top cream thrust upwards .... out of the bottle ....... the effect caused by Mother Nature's 20 below zero weather. Great memories ..... and oft times hard to fully portray to others.

Mom and Dad used Carnation milk on almost everything .... but especially on their cereals  in   the morning  and  in tea  and coffee always ! .......... and they went on using evaporated milk until their deaths ..... or lastcall / closing time as my Dad often put it........well into their upper eighties. So when my Dad finally answered the call in 1986 my Mom found herself alone and no longer had my father to browbeat into driving her from one supermarket to another all around Saint John  to buy up  cans of Carnation milk on sale so she cried hard times to neighbours , friends , etc  getting them to do her bidding ! To our sweet nextdoor neighbour , Katy , for example , " T'were yuh  goin'uptown today , Katy dear , would it be too much to ask yuh a favour ? And then she 'd explain to Katy that at such or such a store Carnation milk was on sale ... 3 cans for $ 1.50 .... which was a real bargain ! Anyways I also went home more often after Dad's death .... a good 9 - hour drive from here ......and she would do the same to me.

The last time she sent me for Carnation milk was in early 1992 just before her final hospitalisation. She had found coupons for the dadblasted milk from some new market which had just opened up north of Saint John on the road to Sussex... a small hamlet named Quispamsis....... often referred to by Josie ( my Mom ) as "Quithpamthith " when she wanted to put on the wee girl act and  be coy ! The price that day has stayed embedded in my mind to this day........... $00.63 a can , two for a dollar !! I brought her home three flats of twenty each !! and stored them away in her closet under the stairs. Josie died in 1993 and I remember well delivering 141 cans of Carnation milk to the  Saint Vincent de Paul Society in our local parish for their soup kitchens and the poor. The poor thing would die a second death were she to see the price we pay nowadays for  but one can of her beloved milk  Maith thú , mo mhuirnín ! And a fine gal you are , darling !!  

We Finally Dropped The "VOUS "!!

Explaining my title may prove to be a tricky undertaking unless my readers have , at some point in their lives , tried their hands at learning another language. Fluff , Mona , Julie - Ann , Raenie , Barb and Pat among my friends have more than likely already caught the gist of what I'm going to say. Yes , I'm talking about the pronominal system of formal or informal address , anchored in the socio - grammatical makeup of the languages we speak. In other words it's all about the ubiquitous YOU of English , the dynamic duo tu / vous of French , the Swedish gruesome twosome du / ni , the German trio du / Sie / Ihr , the Italian quattuour tu / voi / Lei / Loro as well as the Spanish foursome tu / vos / Usted / Ustedes and others. In short it concerns the pronouns we use in our everyday lives with those around us ...... in both ordinary as well as more solemn situations. English is a piece of cake with its universal YOU .... whereas other languages present more complicated dilemmas when choosing the socially and culturally correct pronouns of address..........  

To make a long story shorter there exists in French ...... the language I've been using on a daily basis for almost 50 years now both at home and at work......a set of pragmatic rules or roadmap governing my choice of socially correct terms of addressing others .... appropriate  for every occasion. At least that's the impression the books give !! It all  looks very simple when the grammar states that the 2nd person singular informal "tu " is used  when speaking to a child , a  friend , a younger family member while the plural pronoun "vous " is reserved for two or more people in general . The "vous "word with appropriate verb endngs is likewise used when addressing an individual of equal or higher rank.... and here is where the fun begins !! Who is my social / intellectual / phyical / etc peer and is he / she "vous-worthy "? As a general rule I greet all adults I don't know with the "vous " form and then wait to see how things pan out afterwards. The transition from the more polite and formalistic "vous" to the openly friendly "tu "relationship with others is a trip I've made quite often in my life. The grammar books can't tell you how to do it .... but good common horse sense can !!  

Time for an example. These last months Fluff's stove has been in failing health so I decided to call up Adrien , the Maytag guy , an aquaintance of many years here at the Lake........ a bit older than myself and now retired but formerly number one repairman for Sears / Kenmore.. One afternoon last week I met him at the bank and we spoke briefly .... sometimes "tu" , sometimes "vous "..... and finally decided upon his coming to check out our stove during the following week. He came yesterday morning and just as we were pulling the stove away from the back wall I stopped and breached the subject with him directly saying that we had never been backslapping friends , never had a drink together , never went fishing together ,  never hung out with the same crowd..... but that in spite of this I had always felt a certain affinity for the man. He burst out laughing almost at once admitting that he too felt it was about time we passed from "vous " to "tu ". 

P.S. The polite form is highly advisable to anyone having a chance encounter with a skunk in the forest .