"It is not good for man to be too much alone unless he is really very big, with stores of knowledge to draw from and a clear brain to think with.  That's the whole problem:  a clear brain that can take thoughts and work them out, can filter -- clean out -- muddy, confused thoughts, can read meanings into things, draw meanings out of things and come to conclusions, a brain that converses with life and can, above all, enable a man to forget himself.  The tendency in being alone and not having anyone to exchange thoughts with is to be always on the fence between yourself and yourself."

~ Emily Carr (1871 - 1945) Hundreds And Thousands.  EMILY CARR COUNTRY Courtney Milne, McClelland & Stewart Ltd. 2001.

May the beauty and spirit of the season remain with you all year.

John and I would like to thank our family and friends for all your support.  We look forward to a new year, 2016.

Never a Christmas morning,

Never the old year ends ~

But someone thinks of someone,

Old days, old times,

old friends.

 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.

 

 

 



THIRD THURSDAY, DECEMBER 17, 1:00 p.m.  The literary group meets in The Neat Little Bookshop.  Everyone welcome ~the coffee and tea's always on.

THEME:  Bring a token of Christmas ~ a reading, a poem, an item, possibly a family heirloom.

OPTION:  Lunch in The Back 40.   If you did not receive a Third Thursday e-mail and wish to receive it in the future, please email us at neatlittlebookshop@gmail.com

"When they were around ten, eleven, thirteen," he said, "every Saturday night I would get away from my commitments and read to them.  It was our Saturday night together.  I read them Rousseau, history books, poetry, Victor Hugo.  Later, Stendhal, and Tolstoy.  We'd talk about what we read.  Read out loud to each other.  Every Saturday night for years...It was," he paused, "one of the happiest periods of my life.

 

 

 

The New Red & Green at Talbot & Cayuga Streets



Kirk Du Guid interviewed soldiers in the Haldimand area and in their own words published for posterity their stories.

"[Soldiers]  hope by telling their stories they will leave a legacy, so that our youth can understand what happens in conflict, and why people go to 'serve'."
~ Kirk Du Guid.

Other books by Kirk Du Guid THE FIRST COLD CASE, THE FIRST DRUG SQUAD, Du Guid's Anthology and To the Last Round.

The Neat Little Bookshop is pleased to make available a limited quantity of Soldiers' Stories.  We also have limited quantities of THE FIRST DRUG SQUAD and Du Guid's Anthology.  Books by local authors make thoughtful gifts.

The second printing of Soldiers' Stories includes additional special soldier stories.

SATURDAY, DECEMBER 12 ~ The bookshop is closed while we attend a family Christmas event.  We apologize for any inconvenience.  In order to make up some holiday hours, we will open on Monday, December 14, 10:30 to 5:00.
 
Have a safe and happy weekend ~ John and Lorna


REGULAR HOURS:  Wed. to Fri. 10:30 to 5:00.  Sat. 10:30 to 3:00.

Please NOTE:  Third Thursday, DECEMBER 17 will be our regular literary group at 1:00 p.m.  If you did not receive our e-mail monthly notice and wish to have your name added to our list, please let us know.  This month's theme:  Bring a treasured Christmas item ~ a family heirloom perhaps, a special poem, picture ~ whatever feels like Christmas!

 

"NOT FOR SALE"



A for-sale sign went up on the property yesterday.  The bookshop is not for sale.  Regular hours:  Wednesday to Friday 10:30 to 5:00.  Saturday 10:30 to 3:00.

"The chase ended with a gunshot as the drug dealer's car hit a small tree on the apartment building's lawn.  The uniformed O.P.P. officer ran up to the car, ripped the driver's door open, and pulled the suspect out of the vehicle.  Once handcuffed the officer turned him over to a back-up officer and started to search the car. On the floor behind the driver's seat he found a pill bottle containing fifty red and gray capsules.  It was Lysergic Acid Diethylamide (L.S.D.) in a new, powdered form.

Drugs started to invade southern Ontario in quantity in the early 1970's, and the Ontario Provincial Police hierarchy decided it was time to form their first "Drug Squad."  This is the story of how a fledgling Drug Squad might have reacted to a new and hazardous form of policing they had never encountered before."

~ Kirk Du Guid, The First Drug Squad.  First Choice Books, 2012.
Author of Soldiers' Stories, The First Cold Case and Du Guid's Anthology.

{Books published by local authors make thoughtful gifts.}

"Chiefswood" erected in 1853 Home of Pauline Johnson

 

THE IDLERS

 

The sun's red pulses beat,

Full prodigal of heat,

Full lavish of its lustre unrepressed;

But we have drifted far

From where his kisses are,

And in this landward-lying shade we let our paddles rest.

 

The river, deep and still,

The maple-mantled hill,

The little yellow beach whereon we lie,

The puffs of heated breeze,

All sweetly whisper~ These

Are days that only come in a Canadian July.

 

So, silently we two

Lounge in our still canoe,

Nor fate, nor fortune matters to us now"

So long as we alone

May call this dream our own,

The breeze may die, the sail may droop, we care

not when or how.

 

 

~ E. Pauline Johnson (Tekahionwake), 1861-1913, Flint and Feather, 1912.

 

 





THE WINTER SCENE

I

The rutted roads are all like iron; skies

Are keen and brilliant; only the oak-leaves cling
In the bare woods, or the hardy bitter-sweet;
Drivers have put their sheepskin jackets on;
And all the ponds are sealed with sheeted ice
That rings with stroke of skate and hockey-stick,
Or in the twilight cracks with running whoop.
Bring in the logs of oak and hickory,
And make an ample blaze on the wide hearth.
Now is the time, with winter o'er the world,
For books and friends and yellow candle-light,
And timeless lingering by the settling fire.
While all the shuddering stars are keen with cold.

II

 

Out from the silent portal of the hours,

When frosts are come and all the hosts put on

Their burnished gear to march across the night

And o'er a darkened earth in splendor shine,

Slowly above the world Orion wheels

His glittering square, while on the shadowy hill

And throbbing like a sea-light through the dusk,

Great Sirius rises in his flashing blue.

Lord of the winter night, august and pure,

Returning year on year untouched by time,

To hearten faith with thine unfaltering fire,

There are no hurts that beauty cannot ease,

No ills that love cannot at last repair,

In the victorious progress of the soul.

]

~ Bliss Carman (1861 - 1929) Canadian poet.  SANCTUARY, SUNSHINE HOUSE SONNETS, The Winter Scene.
McClelland & Stewart 1929

Tomorrow:  Bliss Carman biography

 



WILD GEESE

 

To-night with snow in the November air,

Over the roof I heard that startling cry

Passing along the highway of the dark~

The Wild Geese going South.  Confused commands

As of a column on the march rang out

Clamorous and sharp against the frosty air.

And with an answering tumult in my heart

I too went hurrying out into the night

Was it from some deep immemorial past

I learned those summoning signals and alarms,

And still must answer to my brothers' call?

I knew the darkling hope that bade them rise

From Northern lakes, and with courageous hearts

Adventure forth on their unchartered quest.

 

~Bliss Carman (1861 - 1929) Canadian Poet Laureate/ SANCTUARY SUNSHINE HOUSE SONNETS McClelland & Stewart 1929

 

 



At Cottonwood Mansion

 

Shirley Otterman   Norma Mowat   Harold Schaus

 

Thank you, Norma Mowat & Harold Schaus Canadian veterans, for your service 

 

Corporal Harold Schaus poses with his son, Ken Schaus

LEST WE FORGET

 

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.

 

~ Lt. Col. John McCrae, Canadian army doctor.

 November 11, 1918 the war finally ended

 

 

 

 

One of the best-loved children's classics is The Wind in the Willows

"This has been a wonderful day!" said he, as the Rat shoved off and took to the sculls again.  "Do you know I've never been in a boat before in all my life."
   "What?" cried the Rat, open-mouthed:  "Never been in a boat ~ you never ~ well I  ~ What have you been doing, then?"
   "Is it so nice as all that?"  asked the Mole shyly, though he was quite prepared to believe it as he leant back in his seat and surveyed the cushions, the oars, the rowlocks and all the fascinating fittings, and felt the boat sway lightly under him.
   "Nice?  It's the only thing,"  said the Water Rat solemnly, as he leant forward for his stroke.  "Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing ~ absolutely nothing ~ half so much worth doing as  simply messing about in boats.  Simply messing,"  he went on dreamily:  "messing~about~in~boats;  messing~"
   "Look ahead, Rat!" cried the Mole suddenly.
  It was too late.  The boat struck the bank full tilt.  The dreamer, the joyous oarsman, lay on his back at the bottom of the boat, his heels in the air.
   "~about in boats~or with boats," the Rat went on composedly, picking himself up with a pleasant laugh.
   "In or out of 'em, it doesn't matter.  Nothing seems really to matter, that's the charm of it.  Whether you get away, or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all, you're always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and when you've done it there's always something else to do, and you can do it if you like, but you'd much better not.  Look here!  If you've really nothing else on hand this morning, supposing we drop down the river together, and have a long day of it?"

~ Kenneth Grahame (1859 - 1932)  created  the adventures of Ratty, Mole, Badger & Toad for his nightly bedtime stories with his only son, Alastair.  The stories were published in 1908.

PICTURE-BOOKS IN WINTER

SUMMER fading, winter comes ~
Frosty mornings, tingling thumbs,
Window robins, winter rooks,
And the picture story-books.

Water now is turned to stone
Nurse and I can walk upon;
Still we find the flowing brooks
In the picture story-books.

All the pretty things put by,
Wait upon the children's eye,
Sheep and shepherds, trees and crooks,
In the picture story-books.

We may see how all things are,
Seas and cities, near and far,
And the flying fairies' looks,
In the picture story-books.

How am I to sing your praise,
Happy chimney-corner days,
Sitting safe in nursery nooks,
Reading picture story-books.

~ Robert Louis Stevenson (Nov. 13, 1850 - Dec. 3, 1894)  Scottish novelist, poet.

"Do you know what it is to be a child?  It is to be something very different from the man of today.  It is to have a spirit yet streaming from the waters of life;   it is to believe in loveliness, to believe in belief;  it is to be so little that the elves can reach to whisper in your ear; it is to turn pumpkins into coaches and mice into horses, lowness into loftiness and nothing into everything...for each child has a fairy godmother in its soul."
 
~ Francis Thompson (1859 - 1907) English poet, writer.
 

Familiar?  Came From Niagara Falls

Over the Bridge Find RIVER 3 FAMILY RESTAURANT

The Famous Mountie Stands Guard at RIVER 3

We voted.  NOW CAN WE GET THE BRIDGE FIXED?

Add caption

Benches Downtown

 

 

 

The Reality ~

 

Construction on the new bridge came to an abrupt stop last fall when members of the Haudenosaunee Development Institute - representing the Haudenosaunee Confederacy Chiefs Council - claimed they had not been consulted.

 

[Photos: October 2015 lbw]

 

 



King Street Colour

Thoughts for Today ~

"Old friends are best.  King James used to call for his old shoes, they were easiest for his feet."

~ John Selden (1584 - 1654) English scholar  

"But if the while I think on thee,
dear friend,
All losses are restor'd and sorrows end."

~ Shakespeare

"A life based on reason will always require to be balanced by an occasional bout of violent and irrational emotion, for the instinctual tribes must be satisfied."

~ Cyril Connolly (Sept. 10, 1903 - Nov. 26, 1974) English writer, literary critic

The Harper Book of Quotations, Robert Fitzhenry, Fitzhenry & Whiteside Ltd.

Haldimand County Hydro trucks in use; however, may not be for long ~

Nature is what we see,

The Hill, the Afternoon, 

Squirrel, Eclipise, the Bumble-bee,

Nay – Nature is Heaven.

Nature is what we hear,

The Bobolink, the Sea, 

Thunder, the Cricket 

Nay, - Nature is Harmony.

Nature is what we know

But have no art to say.

So impotent our wisdom is

To Her simplicity.

~ Emily Dickinson

Crosswalk on Talbot (Hwy 3) Looking North On Cayuga St.

Talbot Looking East From The Bookshop

JOIN US ~ 

Reading Thursday, September 17, 1:00 p.m.

John Passfield

Ospringe:  A Visit with Grandad

The story is set in Southern England in Kent.  Two children growing up in the 20s sharing stories with their grandad.  Reading and discussion.  "Coffee pot's always on..."

Credit:  "Ospringe church" by OhNoPeedyPeebles at English Wikipedia - Own work (Original text: I created this work entirely by myself.). Licensed under Public Domain via Commons - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Ospringe_church.jpg#/media/File:Ospringe_church.jpg

Lake Erie

Please note temporary bookshop hours:

Wed. to Fri. 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m..
Sat. 11:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m.

or by app't. 905-577-5635 or neatlittlebookshop@gmail.com

A THING OF BEAUTY

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching:  yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits.

~ JOHN KEATS (1795 - 1821) English romantic poet

Happy Labour Day Weekend

[Photo:  Lake Erie lbw]

"When I was a boy, and for quite some time after that,  all work on Township roads was done by the farmers living on that road.  When the tax slip came around, besides the taxes in dollars and cents it had so many day's road work.  I suppose that would be for a man and a team [heavy horses] because about all that was done on them was team work ~ levelling or putting earth in low places with a scraper. 

Every once in a while, depending on the road boss who was one of the farmers, the big grader was brought on. I don't know who appointed him. That required one or two furrows to be plowed in the ditch and three teams were put on the grader and the road was graded.  Needless to say, for some time after that, it wasn't any more than fit to drive on but there were no cars and roads were all alike.  It wasn't noticed, only when a low spot was raised with scrapers and not levelled off was there fault found and some bosses were noted for that.  Needless to say, they weren't popular and their term was short.

Most road work was done after seeding and before haying.  That was always a big day for the kids.  They lived on the road that day while the men went back and forth on the road.

That system probably was the best for the time but times have changed and the Township got road machinery and lately steady-paid workers and the roads are kept up to a much higher standard than they were.  Change is always going on.  For the better?  Sometimes that might be debatable but we will have to give the ones that are responsible at the particular time of doing the best they think.  If it doesn't work that way, the next council will change it.  The country has been brought to the present state by the trial and error method and probably that is the best method to follow."

~ J. A. Turnbull (1890 - 1975)  East Seneca, Haldimand County.

Looking West Over the Unfinished Bridge

CAYUGA FINALLY HAS LINES