The Brussels Post, 1972-04-12, Page 2The Maitland in. Spring
Sugar and Spice
by Bill Smiley
gBrussels Post:
BRUSSELS
ONTARIO
WEDNESDAY, APRIL 12, 1972
Serving Brussels and the surrounding ConirminitY
published each Wednesday afternoon at Brussels, Ontario
by McLean Bros. Publishers,
Evelyn. Kennedy Editor Tom Haley r Advertising
Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association and
Ontario Weekly Newspaper Association.
Subscriptions (in adv?.nce) Canada $4.00 a year, Others
$5.00 a year, Single Copies 10 cents each.
Second class mall Registration No.' 0562.
• Telephone 887-6641.
ESTABLISHED,
1872
End of equal opportunity
There are substantial grounds
for the concern which members and
officials of the Huron Board of
Educatton have expressed about the
effect which Davis government econo-
mies will have on the quality of
education in Huron.
As was pointed out,in a letter
by Huron's Director of Education,
John C. Cochrane, boards such as
Huron, which economize and plan
ahead are being penalized in that
the ceilings imposed effectively
prevent the standards in effect in
counties Where concern with cost
has.not been a factor.
What the new Davis policy means
of course is a complete denial of
the policy enunciated on the intro-
duction of the county board system
five years ago. The number one pri-
ority of that time to provide
equality of educational opportunity
no longer exists as far as Huron
and similar counties are concerned.
The basic problem is' that the
Davis government finds itself in a
financial straight jacket as Mr.
McKeough made evident in his budget
last week. The rosy pre-election
promises are coming home to roost
and the dollar skortages denied last
year now are admitted and used as
reasons for substantial tax in-
creases or as Mr. McKeough prefers
to regard them - - increased service
charges.
Unfortunately it is not the
Davis government that faces the
costs of its past financial manage-
ment. These are costs which Mr.
Davis and Mr. McKeough have trans-
ferred to each of us in Huron through
increased municipal taxes, higher
transportation costs and lowered
educational opportunities.
(The Huron Expositor)
To the Editor
Sir: Enclosed is a cheque in amount of
$8.00 covering two years subscription
to 'The Post". The new format looks
good.
Thank you.
1184 Danforth Ave.,
Toronto 6, Ont. (Dr.) L.M.Grose.
Sir:
"Exquisite hand-made articles created
by homebound men and women of western
Ontario, may be purchased at the Re-
habilitation Foundation Centre, 122
Carling Street, London, Ontario.
Marina Creations, a branch of the
Foundation, holds open house each
Wednesday morning from 10 to 1 o'clock
when out of town visitors are welcome."
(Telephone enquiries 433-7221)
Mrs. ,Margaret Elliott,
Administrator',
122 Carling Street ;
London 12, Ontario.
As I write, the so-called first day
of spring has long gone, but the only
indication that winter is nearly over in
these parts is that the curling season
is drawing' to a close.
Outside the window the snowbanks look
like the iceberg that sank the Titanic.
Inside, the furnace thumps away like a .
bull moose that has just outrun a pack of
wolves. And every four days, it seems,
the oil delivery man wades through the
drifts, inserts that solid gold nozzle in the
side of the house, and whistling cheer-
fully, pumps another $30 worth of oil into
the great, guzzler.
It is a time to try men's souls. It is
a time of year when I curse my Irish
forebearers for not emigrating to New
Zealand or South Africa or Jamaica.
However, it happens every year, and
there's always some little ray of spiritual
or emotional sunlight to penetrate the late-
winter blues.
My little ray of sunshine (at four
o'clock in the afternoon) is sleeping the
sleep of the pure at heart. She's been
in the sack since '7:30 this morning, after
sitting up all night talking to her crazy
mother, who suffers from insomnia.
It's not that Kim disturbs the quiet,
gentle routine of our daily life. She doesn't
disturb it at all. She destroys it.
As mentioned, she's a night-owl. Does
her best work, writing essays and stuff,
after midnight. Arid just like the owl,
she can sleep all day.
Same with eating. She's never hungry
when anyone else is. If dinner is care-
fully planned for six-thirty, she is sud-
denly famished at five-thirty and smashes
herself up a big mess of bacon and eggs
or spaghetti and sardines, leaving her
mother and I looking ruefully at the
roast. Or else she is not hungry at
dinner-hour and will eat nothing but some
celery, and then about eight-thirty is
fainting and slaps up a vast concoction
of fried bananas and mushrooms.
These are minor things, of course,
and she's a delight to have around the
house. When she's here, at least I know
why my socks. are disappearing and I
haven't a clean shirt to wear.
The problem, you see, is that we ask
her home for a weekend. She throws a
clean blouse in a shoulder bag and heads
home. But she hates the city so much
that her weekends turn into a six-day
sojourn, and she has to wear somebody's
clothes, and she and her mother can't
abide each other's taste in garments,
so she wears mine, which are so drab
and nondescript that nobody could fight
over them.
As I said, these are trifles. But
she's always in some kind of a hassle,
and these are the things that produce the
hour-long, all-night sessions with her
old lady, while I lie blissfully, dreaming
of the grand old days when she was a
cuddly infant. She's still pretty cuddly,
by the way, but not for the old man.
And that's the sort of thing she and
her Ma can talk about for six hours at a
stretch, without either one drawing a
full breath.
They can talk about Don and The
Wedding. This is not the title of a Rus-
sian novel about the Don River. Don is
the other mart in her life, and The Wed-
ding is causing more confusion around
here than anything since the da y we
discovered our tomcat was pregnant.
The great event is scheduled for May.
TypiCally, Kim announced that they had
chosen May 7th as the day. And typically,
her mother, who never misses anything
important like this, though I doubt if she
knows the name of the prime minister,
che'cked the calendar and discovered that
May 7th is a Sunday. Not many people
get married on Sunday, though I don't
know why not. There isn't much else to
do.
I've had a lot of free advice about
the wedding. Most people chuckle fiend-
ishly as they tell me what it's going to
cost. "Well, she's your only daughter,
so you'll have to go the whole hog, eh?"
Or,',Well, it only happens once and
it'l cost you a bundle, but think of the
loot she'll get."• Consoling stuff like
this.
In the first place, I wouldn't care
if I had ten daughters. Well, maybe
I would. But in the second place , I
don't want her to get a lot of loot. We'd
wind up storing it in our house for ten
years until she and her broke intended
are making enough to afford mor e than
an unfurnished room.
Her mother promptly announced that
she was not up to a big wedding with
all the frills, the smartest decision she
has made since she agreed to marry me.
Her mother, that is.
Next, I laid it on the line. Four
choices. A small wedding, immediate'
family only,. and a fair-sized cheque.
A slightly bigger deal, with a smallish
reception, to include close friends
'
and
a small cheque. A big splash, with a
lot of people, and no cheque. Or a mas-
sive affair,with pomp and circumstance,
in a city otel ballroom, with her uncle
and god-father, a well-to-do lawyer, pay-
ing the shot, f she could talk him into
it.
She chose No. 1, But we'll see.Wdre
far from out of the woods yet: