I was thinking earlier last evening as I lit a fire in the fireplace and watched the flames expand through the dry wood of my savings that the Oaks, Maples, Ash burn beautifully. The few logs of pulp wood that I have cut down burn like damp leaves. It’s been a late November cold where I live and tomorrow begins December. I border the Shawangunks and Catskill mountain ranges and I’m nestled in a valley a little higher than the Hudson valley so my area…
I was in Canada for a few days to attend a conference. I’ve been going to Canada since I was a small child to both visit relatives and enjoy the magnificent nature that Canada has to offer. My Father was born there, but became a naturalized USA citizen in the 1940’s. I remember border crossings being friendly, easy and without much documentation accept for a birth certificate or drivers license. Ever since 9/11 our customs folks have turned suspicious, dour, accusatory, and basically unwelcoming and…
From Canada my Dad did come Across the border to the states. He came for work when youth was young, And also found his love’s embrace. His Father came from Britain’s heart A midlands village in the West. He lived a path he did not chart For tragedy left life undressed. He lost his family in a fire And moved his roots to Canada. T’was there he found another pyre A fiery gal, my grand mama. From them my Dad was given…
Some Christmas customs. In England, it is still common to hear someone say that the cock crows for Christmas. Legend has it that the roosters crowing would frighten away the bad spirits from the holy season. Other superstitions are wonderful in their imagery. One is that bees can sing at Christmas and sheep walk in procession to commemorate the visit of the angel to the shepherds. In Canada, there is the story of an Indian creeping through the woods on Christmas, watching to see the…