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The Brussels Post, 1977-06-22, Page 2. A nesting place. V/ ruse 'Post. aROSSELS WEDNESDAY, JUNE 22, 1977 ••- • • ONTARIO. Serving Brussels and the surrounding community. Published each Wednesday afternoon at Brussels, Ontario by McLean. Bros. Publishers, Limited, . Evelyn Kennedy - Editor Dave Robb - Advertising Member Canadian Community Newspaper Association and Ontario. Weekly Newspaper Association CNA Subscriptions (in. advance) Canada $$.00 a year. Others $14.00 a year, Single Copies 20 cents each. Enthusiasts over the conversion to metric are happily announcing that in a recent conference on conversion.of the kitchen to SI, a panel of experts saw nothing but advantages in switching to metric recipes. The forecast was made that by March of 1980 the entire switch will have been made, insofar as labels, measures„ new recipes and all the .other aspects, such as implements, measuring devices and so on. The list of people and professions involved seems amazing, but among others it includes packagers, processors, retailers, home economists, dietitians, printers, restaurateurs, chefs, cookware and bakeware manufacturers, appliance manufacturers, advertising and public relations firms and govern- ment departments of agriculture, environment and consumer and corporate affairs. It may be easy for a lot of those people, with nothing but advantages ahead. But what of the literally. millions of recipes from one end of the country to the other which have been collected by cooks for years and years ....even coming down from other generations in some instances. Just imagine the problem of trying to convert them to metric, with any degree of-accuracy, especially where "just the right amount" is a finicky requirement. And what happens when it comes to that famous old measure used by so m any cooks . . . "add, a pinch of ...."? We can just hear them wondering, "Would a metric pinch b e the same as an imperial pinch?" The Camrose Canadian To the editor Requires information on South African War t 11.114".41\p• *VT ry To the editor /. Comp history The national board of the Canadian Postniasters and Assistants Association has asked me to compile the history of otir organization. Pot this reason, I am asking your readers to contribute items of interest such as amUsing from the photographs, clippings of important postal events, and stories fto the pioneer days of ma il handling in Canada. I am especially interested in hearing from past and present . In a pinch It is seventy-five years since the Peace-of Vereeniging brought the Anglo-Boer War to a close. The Boer War was the occasion of Canada's first major overseas military campaign, and relatively little has been written about the participation of the Canadian contingents. I am engaged in researching the role of the Canadian forces in this conflict, and I am anxious to get in touch with surviving veterans or with relatives or friends of veterans. Volunteers from Ontario were especially prominent in the Canadian contingents in South Africa. I will be travelling and researching throughout Ontario during the next few months and I would be most grateful if readers could assist nie in this project. I am especially anxious to gain access to papers in private possession pertaining to the War. Should readers be aware of the existence of letters, diaries, scrapbooks, photographs, paintings or any other pertinent material, I would be most appreciative if they would write to me at the address below as soon as possible. In addition to the troops, there Were also Canadian correspondents, doctors, nurses, priest's and teachers' who went to South Africa, Any information about these participants would also be greatly appreciated. Hughlliphertson 221 Springfield Road, Ottawa, Ontario. KIM OK9 Amen by Karl Schuessler It's great back home again. I'd like to say there's no place like home. But I always tell my writing classes to never use cliches. Okay. So I won't say it's great to be back home. But it really is great. For two weeks. I lived in the Promised Land. It's true. The Israelis have made a garden bloom in their desert. And what a desert country it is - - miles and miles of sand, rock and roily hills, pieced every so often in green fields and in 'city populations. But the most of Israel is' desolate wilderness. Sometiimes I don't know what got into God -- calling that piece of real estate the Promised Land. N ow, I know when Joshua and Caleb and the other men made their foray into the land to search it out, they brought back a huge cluster of grapes -- so great that they tied it to a pole and they carried it between them on their shoulders. And they brought back the report that this really was the promised land. It grew men so big in size that some of Joshua's 'men moaned they felt like grasshoppers in their sight. Well, I didn't see any monster men or monster grapes. The only real big grapes I ever saw were on the• emblem of the Ministry 'of Tourism in Israel. It was the familiar picture of those two m en bringing back those bunches of grapes on their shoulders. Now, don't get me wrong. Israel is an outstanding country. The Israelis are pumping thousands of gallons of water into the parched earth to make it green and productive. They're turning the Promised Land into the Promising Land. There's no doubt about that. But God? Saying the land was flowing in milk and honey? I saw nary a bee, flying around in Israel. And the cows must have been hidden from sight. But maybe God didn't mean cows' milk. He must have meant goats' milk or camels' milk. I saw enough of those two animals to warrant milk. ,And God? Making the children of Israel sanctify themselves in preparation for crossing the Jordan River? And God? Home again Holding back- the waters of the Jordan while they walked over to the other side? The Jordan River I saw when we crossed from the country of Jordan into Israel at the Allenby Bridge was so small I could practically jump across it. And if not jump, then at least spit acrdss it. For years I've hummed tunes about "Roll, Jordan, Roll". It sure wasn't rolling when I saw it -- onl •y piddling. The wrong time of year , I guess. And that song about Michael rowing hiS boat ashore, where the Jordan's chilly and ,cold and •where it's deep and wide. I know the old negro slaves didn't mean just crossing the Jordan into the milk and honey on the other side. 'They really were singing about crossing the river into heaven. They meant this was their last trip, their last death trip, into 'a new world. Well, let me tell you Michael didn't need a boat for the trip. He didn't need to trim the sail. Michael, could have waded across, ankle, deep. I'm writing all this to tell myself that somewhere there's a mistake. And since God can hardly make mistakes, the fault must lie with men. Somehow we've made mistakes. We've mixed our metaphors. Maybe we've poured all our hopes and dreams onto barren wastelands and muddy streams. Hoping for some miracle or trusting God will pull us through. Or maybe the truth is we do dream that other places are shinier and rosier than our own. That-- to use and not avoid another cliche - the grass is greener. • I'll stick with the title of Erna Bombeck's latest book The Grass is Always Greener over the •Septic Tanik. Yes, the grass is greener over my own septic tank. the Grass is greener here in Canada. The grass is higher and taller and in great abundance right here in my own backyard, Maybe that person was right when he said the Children of Israel didn't hear God • right when he said the Promised Land was Canaan. God realty said Canada. • My trip to Israel has convinced me of this. I'm living in the Promised Land right here, in Canada. of Posbnasters members of • the C.P,AA,- and their . fami All material will be acknowledged on arrival and a teteiptisSited, It will then be returned . oo8i teb quicklyto the contributor .as quickly Thanking you for your a.18tance.,. I ant,. .Sincerely.yours, Betti Michael; Port RObinsoil, ()nand' LOS IlKO, By Br in' Fr ra TI sc P'