Loading...
HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Brussels Post, 1974-09-11, Page 2Log cabin coming down Sugar and Spice By Bill Smiley OBrussels Post BRUSSELS ONTARIO WEDNESDAY,$EPTEMBER 11, 1974 Serving )brussels and the surrounding community. Published each Wednesday afternoon at 13russeis, Ontario by McLean Bros. Publishers, Limited. Evelyn Kennedy • Editor Torn Haley , Advertising Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association and Ontario Weekly Newspaper Association. Subscriptions (in advance) Canada 56.00 a year, Others cZNA $8.00 a year, Single Copies 15 cents each. 6/` VeillF4C1 Second class mail Registration No. 0562. PUCULATION Telephone 887-6641. A oi AN com ea/A „ p at, 4 PERs Asso k flitsp`Aptos COW °P. Ducks Unlimited (Canada) WILSON'S PHALAROPE (Steganopus tricolor) interesting and attractive addition to the life of prairie ponds, the spritely phalarope, seems equally at home spinning about in circles on the water or dasi.ing about on shore, Well-liberated, the females o'f this species wear the more color-, ful plumage, take the initiative in courting, and leave the trial6 to raise the familyl 138 - 74 Marsh World End of summer notes: back to work; babies; the speed limit; and anything else that crops up. It's good' to get hack to work. For a month. At first there's a general feeling of -excitement as the fall term begins at school Bonhomie among the staff as summer experiences are exchanged and tans are compared. The challenge of facing a hundred and some new faces in the classroom. The fine September weather. Even the students are happy to get back. For a month. They, too, exchange summer anecdotes, greet old friends, and begin making new ones. There is a feeling of liveliness in the air. One of the Favourite pastimes for the students as school re-opens is sizing up the teachers. "Yeah, he's not a bad guy, but you can walk all over him. His classes are a mob scene." "She's a good teacher, knows her stuff, but she's so dull, no sensa humour, it makes your teeth ache." "He's a real mean (deleted). Makes ya work like a dog." And so on. They're usually pretty shrewd in their assessments. What they don't realize is that their teachers are doing the same. "There's a bad little devil; have to keep an eye on him. Oh; no, not Joe repeating his year. Why did they put him in my class again? There's a bright girl; good -looking too." And so on: Utterly bewildered for a month are the new kids in Grade 9. They come in all sizes, from tiny shrimps to hulking giants. Some of them come from small country schools. To be dumped in a huge, complex building housing daily about 1700 people, including staff is rather frightening for them, They get lost. That's reasonable; even some of the teachers get lost. But the kids lose their books, forget where their lockers are or if they frid them, have forgotten the combination for the lock. They have to unravel all the do's and don'ts of a huge and baffling new system, But they get sorted out and after a month, they're old hands, just as cocky as all the others. Now for babies,Thank goodness I'm not a young mother. We've been having a visit from our grandbabby, and when it was over, I felt tett years older, He's a beautiful' child and a healthy one. But he's as active and agile and slippery as an eel, 'thafortnnately, his gran had cracked ribs, Was in considerable pain and could scarcely hold him or lift him, As a result, she wasn't much good, as an over-sized toy. That's all grandparents are, when you're eight months old. They're far better than a rattle. They're softer (in more ways than one), they make the appropriate noises, they pick you up and kiss you when. you fall down, they sing to you and joggle you on their knees , and so on. Well, Nicov Chen "took a shine", as they say, to me as his new toy, "Ah, look. He loves his grandad", the women would coo, when he'd crawl straig. t to me, look up imploringly and begin to ascend me as though I were Mount Everest. His technique was impressive. I was wearing nothing' but shorts most of the time. He would reach up from the floor, grab me by the hair on my legs with a grip like an orangutan, pull himself to his feet, grinning with triumph and swaying around, ready to fall, bump his head and start yelling. Another beseeching look, and I'd hoise him onto my knee. Then he'd turn around, grab me by the hair on my chest, and pull himself up for a little jump, jump, jump, facing me. When he got tired of that, he'd start grabbing my nose and trying to pull it out, or poking at my eyeys, or tearing at an ear. Suddenly, he'd squirm around and want down. On the floor, he'd head, at startling speed and with a demonic grin, straight for a st anding floor lamp. He loved it because when you shook it. from ground level, it made a nice jingling sound. It is also heavy enough to brain a baby. So grandad leaps across the room and grabs the lamp iri the nick of time, points the kid in another direction and sinks wearily into his chair. Sixty seconds later, he feels a painful twisting of the hair on his legs, and off We go again. One of us never got tired of this little routine. He's a happy babby, but, on the occasions when he isn't you could hear him two blocks away, Whenever his Muni went shopping, I baby-sat and enjoyed it thoroughly, but did my sitting in a constant state of fear that he'd get unhappy, glad, once again, that I'm not a young mother, but an old grandad. Vinally, the speed limit, There is a proposal that it be reduced from 70 on the big highways to 55 m.p.h. This was done in the U.S. and Germany, among others, during the oil 'crisis. There is quite a lot of opposition here, rni all for it. it's been proved' that it cuts the carnage on' the highways. Saves lives, saves money, stoll energy. How Can anyorio be against it. And what's the big rush anyway? It 'S time we slowed dowii. An end to hoeing Farmers of every era have, some cause for complaint. If it isn't the weather it may be the prices; or it may be some immediate reason such as the breakdown of a machine in the midst of a busy season. Modern farmers, for all their troubles, don't know how lucky they are, that is, compared to their Ontario ancestors. Many back-breaking jobs of the past are gone forever. Gone too are many of the pesky tasks of the yesteryears. The reminder comes with the information that sugar beets now can be grown from 'mono-germ' seeds. That is, there is just one plant per seed, which ,eliminates the need for pulling most of them out. No sugar beets now are grown in Ontario, the last plant producing sugar from beets having been closed down in Kent County some years back. And there are very few, if any of their kindred mangolds.Time was when most Ontario farmers had an acre or two of these to provide tasty, juicy food for milch cows or brood sows. They also offered a treat for horses, or for the hens. Those were the days of 'hoe crops' and the hoeing of mangolds was the worst of all. First they had to be thinned out, almost impossible to do with the hoe, as the stems were intertwined. The hoer would have to stoop, up one row and down the next, pulling them apart with his fingers.That was a tedious pernickety job, as hard on the nerves as on the back. Our grandfathers would have shouted with joy at sews that there were mangolds which needed no such thinning. But then there are many modern practices in agriculture which would have been beyond the fondest dreams of our rural ancestors. (St. Marus Journal-Argus)