The Rural Voice, 2005-08, Page 8WANTED
2005-2006
Contestants for the
BRUCE COUNTY
Queen of the Furrow Competition
Must be: between 16 and 25 years old
a resident of Bruce County
and in attendance at the Plowing Match
September 2nd near Mildmay.
Call Cheryl Leifso at (519) 363-6212
FOR MORE INFORMATION
Competition includes:
2-3 minute speech interview
Plowing (Tractor and Coaching Provided)
BRUCE COUNTY
PLOWING MATCH
• Plowing Match • 4-H Achievement
• Queen of the Furrow Competition
• Farm Machinery Demonstrations
• Class for reversible plows
Friday, Sept. 2
Coaching Day -
Thursday, Sept. 1
at the
Schaefer Bros. Farm
80 Schaefer Road, Northwest of Mildmay.
See sign on Elora Road.
BEEF BBiQ
FRIDAY
AT NOON
Prizes will be awarded at annual
meeting. Prize money will be
mailed after results are
tabulated. Cheques are to be
cleared before Nov. 1, 2005.
FOR TRACTORS
PLEASE CALL:
Brent Leifso
(519) 363-6212
John Gillespie, President
R.R. #2 Ripley, (519) 395-5248
Dawn Brunton, Secretary
405 12th St., Hanover (519) 364-3391
4 THE RURAL VOICE
Carol Riemer
A little midsummer magic
Carol Riemer
is a freelance
writer who
lives with her
husband and
two
children near
Grand
Valley,
Ontario.
Gone are the hectic spring days of
planting trees and digging out the
garden. Grass that once grew quickly
in the cool spring rain, now lies
dormant beneath a searing summer
sun. The crunch of fresh gravel
scattered by passing cars and the
occasional cloud of dust trailing
down a nearby concession line are all
that break the early morning stillness.
As we are one of those fortunate
families whose home also serves as
our cottage, we save a great deal of
time commuting back and forth.
While others remain determined to
beat the heat, if not the traffic, on
their way to the cottage, we have
chosen to forgo this annual migration
in favour of a less time-consuming,
less stressful approach.
Considering my husband's pench-
ant for nonstop highway driving, and
my weakness for wandering the back
roads, pausing every now and then to
sample the local gastronomic fare,
and to pick up another wooden loon
or set of brass wind chimes, it seems
like a wise choice.
Instead of packing up, we simply
switch from snow suits to shorts and
T-shirts, trade our worn winter boots
for sandals, and replace the storm
windows with screens. Suddenly,
we're back in cottage country.
Creating a little midsummer magic, I
strategically toss a couple of cottage
magazines on the coffee table and
throw a crisp blue gingham tablecloth
across the kitchen table, punctuating
the effect with a handmade
earthenware vase filled with freshly
picked daisies and wild flowers.
Carefully, I arrange birch Togs in a
scuttle by the wood stove, and
replace the down comforters with
light surpmer blankets. Next to the
bed, I leave a few chilling seaside
mysteries and a l0 -pound illustrated
guide to building your own pond. In
preparation for the inevitable scraped
knees, sunburns and insect bites, I
replenish the medicine cabinet with
Band-Aids, sun screen and several
bottles of insect repellent. A couple
of fly swatters lie conveniently
nearby, ready for battle, should our
first line of defence fail.
Rediscovering the barbeque,
summer meals served on the deck
take on a relaxed and casual air. The
bass we once caught at the lake have
been replaced by sizzling burgers and
chops on the grill. The sweet taste of
homemade strawberry jam spread on
hot puttered toast, blueberry muffins,
and the enticing aroma of freshly
brewed coffee in the morning help
convince us that we have been at the
cottage all along. We look forward to
the heaping baskets of ripe peaches,
field tomatoes and bushels of sweet
corn that will soon be available from
local markets, or directly from the
farm.
The marsh across the road is a
temporary home to several pairs of
Canada Geese, a few migrating
mallards and the occasional blue
heron. On a hot summer day, our
birdbath is usually a busy place,
attracting a number of goldfinches,
robins and red -winged blackbirds.
Beyond the deck, rolling pasture
ripples out to the next concession,
while overhead, a single engine plane
mimics the sound of a motorboat on
the water. In the distance, a hot air
balloon glides across the sky, just as
effortlessly as a canoe skims the
glassy surface of the lake.
As the day slowly fades into night,
fireflies fill the evening sky. A bright
country moon illuminates the hasty
retreat of raccoons on their nightly
forage. Somewhere across the
meadow, an owl hoots, and a chorus
of coyotes howls back in reply.
We could be on vacation
anywhere in cottage country, but
we're not. We're at home. And, on a
starry summer night such as this,
there is no better place to be.0