The Rural Voice, 2004-07, Page 6i
PRICE, SERVICE
& SATISFACTION
1999 JEEP GRAND
CHEROKEE LTD
V8, auto, completely loaded, heated
leather, memory seats, sunroof, CD.
cassette & much more, focal trade.
111,000 kms $18,900
2002 DODGE DURANGO
SLT + 4X4
7 passenger, V8, auto, moulded
boards, leather, etc. local trade.
$23,900
2003 JEEP TJ
Sahara, 6 cyl., air, 5 speed, CD,
like new,
upgrades.
local trade, some
$26,900
2001 DODGE RAM 2500
QUAD CAB
Diesel, auto, with joke brake, SLT
pkg., PW, PL, tilt, local trade.
$28,900
HANOVER CHRYSLER
DODGE JEEP
664 -10th St.,
Hanover
1-866-788-8886
Phone: (519) 364-3570
0
(IIHYSLEK
muga
Jeep
2 THE RURAL VOICE
Carol Riemer
Back porch promises
Carol Riemer
is a freelance
writer who
lives with her
husband and
two
children near
Grand
Valley,
Ontario.
It's one of those quiet country
mornings.
Sunlight filters through the trees,
accompanied by a soft summer
breeze. The kids are still sleeping.
Having learned to take advantage of
rare opportunities such as this. my
husband and 1 quickly retreat outside
to the porch with our coffee.
Leaning back in my chair. I gaze
out at the yard, with a well-earned
sense of satisfaction. The gardens
have all been planted, the shed has
been cleaned out. and the lawn has
been cut. At times like this, I can
almost hear myself think. Most
mornings are hectic. Hurried
breakfasts, forgotten lunches.
looming deadlines, and the inevitable
mad dash to the school bus leave me
yearning for the short reprieve of
summer holidays. What I need is a
chance to take it easy for a little
while. To wind down. to stop and
smell the roses, and perhaps, to gain a
little perspective.
But, thinking is often an overrated
activity. It can lead to all kinds of
trouble. It isn't long before a certain
restlessness pervades this tranquil
scene I start to think about all the
things that still need to be done. The
shed roof is missing some shingles.
The drainpipe fell off during the last
rainstorm, the eaves need painting,
and a couple of fence posts, now
leaning at a 45 -degree angle, have
seen better days. It's a never-ending
parade of projects that keeps us
hopping from one thing to the next.
I lean over and gently nudge my
husband. Uninspired by my keen,
observant eye, he mutters something
about having just pushed the lawn
mower to town, and back again.
"Put it on my list of things to do,"
he offers. "I'll get to it later."
"Promise?" I ask.
"Sure," he nods.
So, the day progresses. The kids
get up, wipe the sleep from their
eyes, and head straight for the
kitchen. Rummaging through the
refrigerator, they stubbornly resist my
subtle suggestions for the day's
activities, opting instead for a plea of
starvation. Quickly seizing the
opportunity. 1 barter some breakfast
for chores. Telling teenagers that the
barbeque needs cleaning, or that the
patio umbrella gets stuck whenever I
try to open it, elicits little sympathy.
but the promise of food makes it a
deal they simply can't resist.
Later, in the afternoon, I enlist
their help once again, by asking them
to help me collect more rocks for our
stone wall. Pushing the wheelbarrow
around seems to meet with their
approval, but lugging rocks draws
less enthusiasm. 1 can't understand
why they feel that way. To me, rocks
are a lot like peanuts: "Just one
more." I assure them. "and then, I'II
stop."
As the sun slowly sets behind the
house. evening approaches.
Returning to the porch. I find it shady
and cool. The kids have gone in.
We're alone, once again, and there is
time to contemplate the day.
"It's been perfect," my husband
sighs, as he puts up his feet. "Just a
quiet summer day in the country."
"Perhaps, you're right," I admit,
settling back in a comfortable chair.
"Once in a while, 1 should try it your
way."
"How about tomorrow?" he
suggests. "Promise me you'll take it
easy tomorrow."
"All right. Tomorrow," I promise.
Looking over at the stone wall, it
appears a bit taller than it was this
morning. Unfortunately, so does the
grass.
"The lawn mower needs oil," I
remind my husband, as he tilts his hat
down over his eyes.
"Put it on my list," he yawns. "I'll
get to it tomorrow."
"Promise?" I ask.
He just smiles, nods his head, and
replies, with well -rehearsed sincerity,
"Yes, dear, I promise."0