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The Brussels Post, 1972-05-17, Page 2A tree near Brussels gBrussels Poit WEDNESDAY, MAY 17, 1972 904SS.4§ opIrtimo Serving Brussels and the surrounding community published each Wednesday afternoon at Brussels, Ontario by McLean. Bros. publishers, Limited. Evelyn Kennedy - Editor Tom. Haley - Advertising. Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association and Ontario Weekly Newspaper Association. Subscriptions (in advance) Canada, $4.00 a year, Others, $5.00 a year, Single CopieS 10 cents each. Second class mail Registration No. 0562. Telephoue 887-6641. VoR THE o.pp -1-R -Rfir/C, SU& 51V/S : DR/01-r-- D t=FE/1)4 /1/67-4y, Sugar and Spice by Bill Smiley I'm sure you are sick of reading about my daughter's wedding, but hang on. She's the only one I have, and it will be all over this Saturday. (The last typewritten with crossed fingers.) If she ever does want to get married again, she'll get exactly three words from her old man, "Beat it, kid." However, there's something to be learned by every experience, and both the kid and I are learning. Fast. For several weeks, she has been floating around aimlessly, telling her mother, who is a fuss-budget of the first water, "Stop worrying, Mom. There's not that much to do. It's a simple wedding, and I'll be here to help you get ready." Typical of to-day's youth. Naturally, she wasn't here most of the time, and she didn't help at all, though her intentions were impeccable. Then fate stepped in. A week before the wedding, just when the thrOttle was going to be opened wide for the final drive, her mother went into hospital. For the kid, it was like having a malicious goose snatch from under you the magic carpet on which you are flying. For me, it was like picking a bouquet of wild flowers for the wedding, and dis- ' covering that what I had picked was poison ivy. This is Tuesday, and the bride still hasn't got her wedding dress. This is Tuesday, and the estate looks much as the world must have when old Noah finally found some dry land. The house was to be spicked and spanned. The house is a shambles. The yard was to have been immaculate. The yard is a melee of last fall's leaves, broken picnic tables and lawn chairs, fallen limbs and cat dirt. Don't worry. We'll cope. We'd better, or Kim and I will be taken away, about 3 p.M. on Saturday, by the chaps in the white coats. Today I can home and found my baby wringing her hands and head and feet. She'd been going like .a whirlwind, doing all those "little things" she kept insisting her mum not worry about. Like clean shirts and socks for dad, shopping, cooking, washing dishes.Order- ing flowers. Trying to get shoes to match the non-existent wedding dress. Feeding and throwing out two cats, one of them pregnant; visiting her mum. Same for me. Trying to get a gang of boys to rake the yard, and it rains all day. Trying to cope with people who want to know whether the wedding is on or off. It's on. I think. But there are going to be some short- cuts, in which I am a firm believer, and of which I have tried to convince my wife for years. The windows will not be washed. Who looks out the windows during a wedding ceremony, anyway? Anyone who does should be ejected. The furniture will be dusted. But only in the livingroom, where the event will take place. I don't intend to have a lot of peple running around our bedrooms and wiping their fingers across the ledges. In fact, I don't intend to have a lot of people running around our bedrooms at all. If they want to look at something, they can go outside and look at my two dead elms. The cups and saucers will not all be washed. They will be dusted. The silver will not be polished. It, too, will be wiped with a dry cloth, and if there's an egg- stain on a spoon, tough toe-nails, Everything bulky, ugly, or out of place, will be stuffed smartly into the basement or the attic, and, the doors thereto locked. I've found that Kim and I, without her mother around to heckle us, have a similar basic philosophy: "What's it all going to matter ten years from now?" Oh, we're not complete nudniks. I will shine my shoes and she has prom- ised me she won't get married ih a T- shirt, even though she has to wear her brand-neweans. peach-coloured nightie over j There'll be solemn vows and candles and food and drink and children of all ages. What more could you want for a happy wedding? There's only one thing that upsets me. If her mother is out of hospital in time, she'll give us hell for practic- ally everything. And if she isn't, we'll all regret it all our lives. But don't worry. It won't be Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. But my daughter Will be a beautiful bride if I have to dresS her myself. I'll let you know. wr.pm,14.171gp. Surely there is a solution The concern that is being 'ex - pressed as to the use that will be made of the Century Old Huron Jail is understandable. County Councillors properly are concerned that any long term use, now that the building no longer is required to serve as a jail, will not result in an added load on an already heavy tax rate. On the other hand citizens across the county are concerned that the historic building be preserved not only as a recognition of early days in Huron but also as an attraction for future generations. True it will be suggested that a jail is not an attraction but such a building is in good company. The Tower of London, for centuries the leading jail in England, attracts thousands of 'visitors. each year. Not often is such a structure available to a county and the fact that it is in Huron adds to its value. Huron is only beginning tb' tap its tourist potential and an historical situation such as the jail offers should be taken ad- vantage of at every opportunity. This is not to say that county, council is not wise in assessing the cost aspect. This is essential. But with an acceptance of its long term value as an historically 'and architectually sound tourist attraction surely some means of providing for its retention should be found.