MURRAY & ME ~ A rare look back at the thirties in rural Ontario.

Author and historian Harry B. Barrett relates the historic installation of the controversial new hydro-electric power lines. He tells the story of travelling in a cutter and upsetting on a hill. "I remember our upsetting in the ditch. . . Suddenly I seemed smothered in snow from beneath and by the fur of my Grandfather's coon-skin coat."
The reader learns the origin and tales connected with such places as "Dog's Nest" and Port Dover. The author reflects on earlier days -- his conversations with old neighbours and friends -- to explain the financing and hardship in building the Hamilton-to-Port Dover Plank Road.
One can imagine Harry Barrett sitting around the kitchen table with his childhood friend, Murray Hammond, sharing the stories that eventually became the book, MURRAY & ME.

The book is dedicated to "the hardy pioneers of the Long Point County, many of whom were ancestors to Murray and Me, who toiled to turn the Carolinian Forests into the smiling farmlands and orderly communities that we enjoy today."

* Harry B. Barrett, MURRAY & ME, 1999, Patterson's Creek Press, Morris Printing, Simcoe, Ontario. Photo: Cutter circa early 1900's. Family photo album, Lorna

CAYUGA LIGHT-UP NIGHT Friday Dec. 3, 6pm. at the Village Green. Followed by a candlelight walk to the Kinsmen Hall where Santa will host dancing and a magic show.
Free hot dogs and hot chocolate provided by the Cayuga & District Chamber of Commerce.

Photo: Santa in the Back 40, Cayuga St., 2009.

"Addressed Christmas cards tonight. There was a time when I used to hunt for the most suitable card for everyone on my list. I chose cards covered with lambs and reindeer for children, snow-scenes for friends who were wintering in Florida, High Church cards for friends of a ritualistic tendency. Low Church cards for evangelicals, Thick Church cards for those whose religion impressed me as a bit thick, cards with coaches and jolly drunken Englishmen on them for my jolly drunken American friends, and so forth. It was a lot of work, and I gave it up long ago. Now I buy cards in large inexpensive bundles, and send them out in whatever order they happen to come. . . . Like everybody else I am sending cards this year to people who sent me cards last year, but whom I forgot last year, and who will not send me cards this year. This desperate game goes on for decades, and there seems to be no way of stopping it. . . . On several cards I put messages such as, "Why don't you write?" or "am writing soon," which is a lie. I have no intention of writing them, but in an excess of Christmas spirit I pretend that serious illness, or the press of affairs, is the only thing which keeps me from sending them a long letter every week."

Robertson Davies, The Diary of Samuel Marchbanks, a series which appeared in the Peterborough Examiner and later published in book form.

The North Cross Band with Christine Smith, performing this weekend at the Norfolk Arts Co. Authors' Book Fair 2010 at the Lighthouse Festival Theatre, Port Dover.

Authors included Harry B. Barrett, Bob Blakeley, Tim W. Butcher, Jane Collins, Mary M. Cushnie-Mansour, Ron Dennis, George Down/Book Band, Bernard Heydorn, Peter Hurley, Suzanne M. Hurley, Charles Jambor, John Jaques, Doris Kienitz, John B. Lee, Henriette MacArthur, Cheryl MacDonald, Ellen McIntosh Green, Allison Montgomery, Wendy Elaine Nelles, Josie Penny, Don Proctor, Thomas A. Ryerson, Judy Trickett, Lillian Tymchuk, Catherine M. A. Wiebe, Tashene Wolfe and Blair Yager.

Photo: For larger image, dbl. click on photo.

The Cayuga Santa Claus Parade is Saturday, December 4, 11 am. Following is an extract from Robertson Davies' The Diary of Samuel Marchbanks: *

"Passed the day very agreeably laughing, patting myself on the back and drinking toasts to myself. The reason for my satisfaction was that I was comfortably at home, and not in Toronto watching the Santa Claus Parade. As I grow older, and the Christmas Frenzy begins earlier and earlier, my relish for Christmas dwindles.

The spirit of love and friendship which would fill us all at Christmas is very dear to me, but it has to struggle against gifts which I don't want, vulgarized Christmas carols, hysterical appeals from the Post Office for mercy, ill-considered entertainments from which the real spirit of Christmas is painfully absent, and a commercial bombardment which sets my nerves jingling. Santa Claus, now utterly divorced from the St. Nicholas of legend, is a crazed old slob, hounding me to buy things I don't like, and give them to people who don't like them either. So on this balmy Indian Summer day, I worked in my garden, made firm but not excessive demands upon my cellar, and laughed and sang the hours away, precisely as though Santa, the patron of the Chamber of Commerce, were not making triumphal entry into the Ontario Babylon."

* Pseudonym for the distinguished "[man] men of letters," Robertson Davies, Canadian novelist, journalist, critic (1913 - 1995) Born in Orangeville, Ontario.

Photo: by Lorna

Tomorrow: Davies' thoughts on Christmas cards.

Don't forget the Book Fair today ~ and tomorrow ~ November 27 & 28, in Port Dover at the Lighthouse Festival Theatre. Bob Blakeley and Cheryl MacDonald will be among the thirty authors signing books. 10:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m. Also, Sunday noon - 4:00. See you there.

Photo: Bob and Cheryl in The Neat Little Bookshop.

Smile for Today:

" I can't understand why I flunked American History. When I was a kid there was so little of it."

~ George Burns (1896 - 1996) American comedian, actor, writer.

Book Fair Lighthouse Festival Theatre ~ Port Dover

Book Fair at the Lighthouse Festival Theatre
Port Dover, Ontario
Norfolk Arts Co's Authors

This weekend: Nov. 27 - 28. Sat -- 10:00 - 5:00; Sun-- 12:00 - 4:00.

About thirty authors will be available to share their stories and to display the best Christmas gifts ever ~ BOOKS.

Local histories, novels, fiction, non-fiction. Engage an author in conversation. Discover the world of writing. See you there.

Christie Blatchford's HELPLESS.

Available at The Neat Little Bookshop while quantities last.

Without the Loss of a Syllable or Letter

"We see then how far the monuments of wit and learning are more durable than the monuments of power, or of the hands. For have not the verses of Homer continued twenty-five hundred years, or more, without the loss of a syllable or letter; during which time infinite palaces, time, temples, castles, cities have been decayed and demolished?~ Francis Bacon (1561 - 1626) English statesman, author, scientist.
"Books are the legacies that a great genius leaves to mankind, which are delivered down from generation to generation, as presents to the posterity of those who are yet unborn."
~ Joseph Addison (1672 - 1719) English essayist, poet.

"When others fail him, the wise man looks to the sure companionship of books." ~ Andrew Lang (1844 - 1912) Scottish writer ~ famous for the "coloured" fairy books.

Quotations from Lines to Live By, Edited by Clinton T. Howell, Thomas Nelson Publishers 1972.

"Everyone who knows how to read has it in their power to magnify themselves, to multiply the ways in which they exist, to make their life full, significant and interesting." ~ Aldous Huxley

(Huxley d. Nov. 22, 1963, at the age of 69. English Writer (Brave New World)

"The whole history of the world is summed up in the fact that, when nations are strong, they are not always just, and when they wish to be just, they are no longer strong."

Sir Winston Churchill (1874 - 1965) Statesman and Prime Minister, Britain.

"At the going down of the sun... We will remember them."

Sunset on Lake Erie, Ontario. (For larger image, click on photo.)

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old;
Age shall not weary them nor the years condemn;
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning,
We will remember them.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place, and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and Were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe,
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch, be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

John McCrae

The First World War

"Spurred on by the realization of their hazard, the men worked with speed and precision. Not a shot was fired, nor a shell exploded. All was still until the last stake was screwed in and the last strand of wire tied; then it happened ~ a salvo of bursting rockets a myriad of coloured flares, a tornado of gas shells, lead and iron. One hundred yards to the trenches. Time, ten seconds flat at least so Jones has often told. Be that as it may, not a man was scratched in the spirited dash to cover, which shattered all records for personal achievement. The Brigade Wirers had no rifles and only a handful of bombs, so when ordered to get the hell out of the way by an officer of the front line company, the command was smartly obeyed. The retirement was orderly until Private Saunders essayed to pray beneath the shelter of a bit of corrugated iron stretched across the top of the communication trench through which the party was moving. Those in the rear thought this quite the wrong time and place for devotions, as they were still under heavy fire, and Saunders in his kneeling position cut off their line of retreat. Under the circumstances, it is not surprising that he was kicked into a position of even more humility."

Excerpt from The Canadian Military Gazette, Vol. LVI, No. 3, March 1941. Major A. R. Thompson penned the name "Jones" to relate his personal experiences in a series that ran in the Gazette.

Photos: Cayuga Courtyard, lbwalker (For larger image, click on photo.)

Letter from France Aug. 8, 1917

"P.S. What you say about the wounded officers at Eastbourne makes me very envious. If I get a blighty, will you come & look after me? B."

(For larger image, double-click on photo.)

Letter from a soldier in France, dated Aug. 8th, 1917:
[Second half of letter. See previous post for first half.]

Your last letter was written from Eastbourne. Are you still down there? It must be lovely down there now. That is providing you are not having the same wretched weather that we have had lately over here. It was all right for a few days ~ some weeks ago ~ but lately it has been raining almost every day ~ and it surely can rain here when it so desires! Lord ~ I have never seen anything like the torrent that came down two or three days ago. We were all drenched to the skin and I had a hot bath in my tent out of the water that I collected in my boots (very nearly anyway!)

It makes me frightfully homesick to think of you in bathing down there ~ A good swim would be such a treat. By the way, if I am still above ground at the end of another month, why I may get leave. It will come about then I think but one cannot count on [underlined] anything over here ~ it will probably all be stopped just before I am to leave. But things seem to be improving and I am hoping to be across about then.

By the way, you haven't told me what you are doing? Are you still down at Eastbourne or are you in any of the shows? Please let me know ~ And I say, Lily dear, let me know where you expect to be from now on, won't you? You see if I happened to get leave suddenly I should want to know where you were. (Please don't go to Ireland or the north of Scotland or any other ungetatable [sic] (How's that?) place!

I have lost track of the shows that are on now ~ it is such ages since I was across last. Is there anything good going? Won't you please write me a nice long letter and tell me all the news? By the way how's that nephew of yours getting along? I expect he's growing into a bonnie laddie by now.
Is May still with you? You were in the same show before. I hope so. It is so much nicer for you to be together isn't it? Give her my best regards and tell her I hope to see her some day soon. And I hope your Mother and sister are well too ~ Remember me to them all ~ Guess they have forgotten me by now.
Well Lily dear, won't you please be very, very nice to me and write soon? We are out at billets just now but expect to be "off to the war" again soon. There are quite big doings over here these days ~ Old Fritzie is getting part of that which is due to him ~ and he's going to get plenty more.

It's high time that I was turning in. It's raining again now ~ but this morning was fine and I managed to get off for a top-hole ride! Wish you could have come along. It's lovely to get away from camp now and then and go off across the country. Well, I must close this up. Night night dear old Lily. Take good care of yourself and don't forget all about this chap over here.
With ever so much love,
Bassell
Actual letter saved between the pages of one of Lydia (Mrs. Drew) Thompson's books.

France, Aug. 8th, 1917
Dear Old Lily,

I'm afraid I have only myself to blame for the fact that I haven't had a letter from you for ages and ages ~ perhaps you have even forgotten me ~ have you? You won't be cruel enough to say so even if you had ~ I know.
But we have been pretty much on the go over here lately and somehow it seems much harder to write these days. Mother is always "strafing" me because I don't write home often enough.

We are in a much more unsettled sort of state than we were last year. Then we were in one part of the line and had regular towns in and out. Now we are on the move nearly all the time. By the way ~ perhaps you didn't know it but there really is [underlined] a war on over here!

But I say, Lily dear ~ I think that you might have been kind enough to write to me again. You know that I do love to get your letters ~ and your time isn't wasted that you spend on them ~ Besides, you know ~ if you help to keep the "troops" cheerful, you are helping to win the "wa-ar." But I shouldn't strafe you, should I? You have always been so good to me and I'll be lucky if you haven't quite forgotten me! Is it too much to hope that you are keeping a wee corner of your heart[illegible] for me? It would be something very precious and I should indeed be luckly....With ever so much love, Bassell.

Actual letter saved between the pages in one of Lydia (Mrs. Drew) Thompson's books.

"Somewhere in France, April 27/17," the letter begins:

Dear Lily, Just a few lines to let you know that I am still "alive and kicking" and to ask why I have been so neglected lately? There hasn't been a letter from you for ages and ages! Guess you must have forgotten me entirely this time. I would have written to you before but things have been too busy for much letter-writing these days over here. And it was up to each one of us to put our whole energy into the affair. Now that the first part's over, we are having a bit of a rest.
I wonder if you are having lovely sunny spring days in England. Over here we have had a lot of wet and cold weather but lately it has turned warmer and we are all feeling so much better. During the first of "the push" it was most miserable in some ways. In fact, the "weather man" did his best to drown us out and then to freeze us. We had quite a brisk snow storm and as we were living in shell holes etc., with plenty of mud and water, things weren't the most comfortable. But the men are fine ~ always cheerful and happy. I'm afraid that the above looks as though I was grumbling ~ [underlined] I'm not doing so at all. We had the time of our lives. But we do grumble when our friends forget to write to us! Now that was very cruel of you Lily dear! Just at the time when things are fairly rough for us! I wonder what you have been doing lately. Are you back in town again? It is so long that I don't believe I even know whether you are still in My Lady Frayle [A musical play]. I think you were the last time you wrote. I hope that your foot has been better and that you have been having a good time lately. Give my regards to May and to the rest of the family ~ and look here, Lily dear ~ you just get busy now and write a nice long letter to me! Wish there was some chance of leave again ~ but it seems further off than ever just now. Well, I must stop. Cheer-Oh, Lily dear,
With lots of love Bassell.
P.S. Don't forget that letter. [underlined] Please write.

Actual letter saved between the pages of one of Lydia (Mrs. Drew) Thompson's books. Tomorrow: A letter from Bassell, dated Aug. 8th, 1917.

On Thursday, November 11, we will lay wreaths at the base of the cenotaph and observe a moment of silence ~ surrounded by veterans. Remembering the hundreds of thousands who served in the First and Second World Wars, Korea, on UN missions, NATO and in Vietnam and now Iraq and Afghanistan.

Lest we forget, let us wear our red poppies. Honour these brave individuals and recognize that Canadian soldiers and civilians continue to serve around the world today.

Thought for Today ~

Army doctor, John McCrae from Guelph, Ontario, wrote the beautiful poem In Flanders Fields, honouring the many who did not return home from the First World War. Wild poppies sprang up in the muddy fields where they fought and fell.

Today, the poppy remains a symbol of support for our war veterans. The Royal Canadian Legion distributes a lapel-poppy to be worn over our hearts. The proceeds help veterans and their families.

(For larger image of poppies, click on photo.)

Haldimand - Norfolk ~ On-the-Block

Virtually all the land the province owns in Haldimand and Norfolk


"What most people didn't realize was that the Ontario government had also put virtually all the land the province owns in Haldimand and Norfolk counties on the table for consideration. Among the land, owned by the Ontario Realty Corporation; that was on the block were the Sprucedale Correctional Centre in Simcoe, the former OPP station on Highway 3, an assortment of salt domes throughout the area, a huge assembly of land near Dunnville, and the old Cayuga courthouse."

"This was all put on the table in negotiations," [Toby] Barrett says. "It's in Hansard."

"...the various salt domes and ministry of transportation yards along [Highway] No. 3 and the former OPP station," Barrett says, "they're perfect locations for smoke shacks, that kind of stuff."

Exerpts from Christie Blatchford's HELPLESS Caledonia's Nightmare of Fear and Anarchy, and How the Law Failed All of Us. p. 113, Doubleday Canada, 2010.

Dr. Marshall's History of Haldimand County

"...The last and most vigorous defender of the rule of law was overturned and effectively silenced" writes Author Christie Blatchford in her most recent book, HELPLESS Caledonia's Nightmare of Fear And Anarchy, and How The Law Failed All of Us.

Blatchford praises Judge Marshall for trying to uphold the law during the Douglas Creek Estates occupation. After numerous attempts to restore law and order, Judge Marshall was found in an appeal court to have been "within his discretion to have kept calling the parties back to his court for updates, and to have asked the OPP and the government to report publicly on the exercise of their respective operational and prosecutorial authority. But, the judges said, Marshall had gone "further than he should have" in reviewing both OPP and government conduct."

Blatchford quotes Dr. Marshall's son, Albert, who is also a lawyer, "When this matter in Caledonia came before him, he had a choice. He could take the easy road and [accede] to the Crown's requests and ignore the rights of a few. If he had done this, no one would have faulted him....Instead, he chose to stand up for what he believed was right. When he did this, he was very much alone."

To read about the Haldimand County that the late Ontario Superior Court Judge David Marshall lived in and loved, pick up Dr. Marshall's History of Haldimand County, available at The Neat Little Bookshop in Cayuga.

A comprehensive and concise history of the area surrounding the Lower Grand River that empties into Lake Erie.

"On Man, on Nature, and on Human Life, Musing in solitude ~

"On Man, on Nature, and on Human Life,

Musing in solitude, I oft perceive

Fair trains of imagery before me rise,

Accompanied by feelings of delight

Pure, or with no unpleasing sadness mixed;

And I am conscious of affecting thoughts

And dear remembrances, whose presence soothes

Or elevates the Mind, intent to weigh

The good and evil of our mortal state."

The Recluse. William Wordsworth (1770 - 1850) Britain's Poet Laureate 1843 - 1850. (Photo: taken Nov. 1, 2010 lw)