Posted on

FARMING TUJRNED UPSIDE DONW OR NEARLY SO

FARMING TURNED UPSIDE DOWN OR NEARLY SO

Sorry to say this but a number of Ontario farms have fallen into this kind neglect as speculators buy

up the land in expectation of future growth and huge profits.  No one lives  on the farm anymore.

And there is  another factor at work.  Farms get rented out to people who really do not give
a damn about farming.  they can’t even if they wanted to. for great swaths of Ontario farm land
is now owned or managed by corporate agriculturalists who are interested only in cash cropping.
So the barns fall down and, in this case, a Ford half ton truck gets posted up on its side so
some mechanically minded  person can  get at its entrails.

alan skeoch
May 2018

Posted on

SO, WHO BELIEVES IN GHOSTS? (FARM ABANDONED ON COLLINGWOOD ROAD)

“SO, WHO BELIEVES IN GHOSTS?”


alan skeoch
May 2018

The house and barn were abandoned  a long time ago.  People just walked away leaving everything behind…furniture, farm equipment, last mail delivery.  
I bet some of you noticed the place on the road to Collingwood…west side between Duntroon and Collingwood.   Nearly all gone now.  Buildings sat there forlorn for
two decades  or longer. Then a couple of years  ago The house was
demolished but the barn still stands with the ghostly wreck of the giant threshing machine still standing on the threshing floor visible to passersby on the Collingwood  road
since
many of the barn siding has been blown off by the winds of time.

Robert Root and I visited the site…with permission…sort of permission that is to say.

“Hey, Rooter, let’s ask the farm across the sideroad if we can go in to take some pictures.”
“Are they the owners?”
“Don’t rightly know.”

“Could Rooter and I take some pics of that’d abandoned farm?”
“We are not the owners.”
“We won’t touch a thing.”
“Suppose that is your business…not mine…go ahead.”
“Why has the place been abandoned…looks like it was once grand…”
“Dispute over the will…No one quite sure who owns  what so no one can touch nothin’…or so we’ve been told.”
“Us?  Promise not to touch a thing.  Rooter is a Baptist…honest as the driven snow.”
“Not my business.”

So  Rooter and I walked through the tall grass to the house and then out to the barn.  No sign of life but lots
of evidence of a life that was once lived here.  Books, letters, newspaper collection…phone book.   

“Hey Rooter, look here.  There’s even a section of the house for the hired man…at the back…separate.”
“Could be a hired  woman,  Alan.”
“Reckon?”
“Barn is full of things…Thresher, fanning mill, single horse plough, root pulper….”
“And the water pump still works…want a sip…a little brown.”

And that was an hour that both Rooter and I will never forget.  Sad. Tragic.  Like a love affair gone bad.

“Did you see any  goats, Alan?”
“Nope. did you?”
“Nope…supposed to be ghost here, you know.”

WE MISSED THE GHOST…HE WAS OUT BACK WITH THE HARNESS…GETTING READY TO HARNESS  UP HORSES…THE GHOST WAS THERE. (scroll down)

alan skeoch

May 2018
















Posted on

“MY OWNER COES NOT BELIEVE IN CARS OR TRUCKS.” (DAY I MET A TALKING HORSE)

“MY OWNER DOES NOT BELIEVE IN CARS OR TRUCKS?”


ALAN SKEOCH
May 2018
(picture taken years ago at a winter farm auction)

“Hey Bud?”
“You mean me?”
“Yes, you with the big coat…scarf and boots and brush cut.”
“I didn’t know horses  could talk.”
“We don’t like people to know we can talk.”
“So?”
“So, could you slip over to the Women’s Institute food booth and get me a hot chocolate?”
“I thought horses ate oats and drank water.”
“On a  day like this  I need a hot chocolate.”
“Are you sure?”
“Listen Bud, the water is frozen and the oats are as hard as rocks…I want hot chocolate?”
“Show me the money!”

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IRISH COUNTRY ROAD …IN 2014

IRISH COUNTRY ROAD


When Gabriela, the kids and Marjorie and I toured Southern Ireland a year or so ago, the roads  were empty as the tourist season had not begun.
This quaint and starkly beautiful road get jammed  in the summer but for us it was a lonely adventure.  I think it is located down in the Southwest
corner of Ireland…perhaps the Dingle.  No matter, places like this are easy to find.   Just imagine subsisting on potatoes on those tiny fields and then
suddenly discovering the plants had shrivelled up and died.   That happened in the 1840’s.   Remnants of bad times are easy to find.  But the
local pubs wash away the grief…or maybe just hide it deeper.

When I worked  a few miles from here in  1960 sites such as tis were not uncommon around Bunmahon, County Waterford.  No doubt long  gone now for Ireland
underwent a wave of investment that made a lot of changes.  But not so many that the flavours of the past were all consumed…for this picture was tanned in 2014 I think.

See if you can find  one lone cow.

alan skeoch
May 2018

Posted on

“WASN.T THAT A PARTY?” MISSISSAUGA ARTS PRE=MARTY PARTY

“WASN’T THAT A PARTY?”


alan skeoch
April 30, 2018

Jeannette Chau nominated  me for a Marty Award.   Super flattering thing to do, especially since we had really seen each other for around 40 years…way back when I was a teacher of history
at Parkdale Collegiate Institute and she was a student.   Imagine that.  Please forgive  if this photo essay seems a trifle vain.  The whole affair made us, Marjorie and me, feel good.  So we are sharing.

What are the Marty Awards, you ask?  Sounds sort of weird, I know, but very simply put the Marty awards  are given to nominated citizens of Mississauga in all the fields of “arts”…music, drama, dance, literature, art, etc.

We  have lived in Mississauga since 1968 and we have watched the city grow into one of the largest cities in Canada. BUT we have never really captured the diversity of Mississauga until the evening of April 30.

“Alan,  can you come to the reception we have for Finalists at the Live Restaurant, it will be fun?”

So Marjorie and I went to the Living Arts Centre on April 30.  What a party.  As diverse as Mississauga.  Bubbling with enthusiasm , perhaps “joyeux de vivre” (sp?) captures the event best/

NO!  The best way  to describe the event was done by the Irish Rovers and Ricky Nelson.  Remember?

Rovers Irish – Wasn’t That A Party Lyrics

www.lyricsfreak.com/i/txtstripes_large.gif); min-height: 598px; font-stretch: normal; font-size: 17px; line-height: 30px; font-family: Arial, sans-serif; color: rgb(71, 71, 71);”>Could’ve been the whiskey
Might’ve been the gin
Could’ve been the three or four six-packs,
I don’t know, but look at the mess I’m in
My head is like a football
I think I’m going to die
Tell me, me oh, me oh my
Wasn’t that a party     
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Might’ve been the gin
Could’ve been the three or four six-packs,
I don’t know, but look at the mess I’m in
My head is like a football
I think I’m going to die
Tell me, me oh, me oh my
Wasn’t that a party

Someone took a grapefruit
Wore it like a hat
I saw someone under my kitchen table
Talking to my old tom cat
They were talking about hockey
The cat was talking back
Long about then every-thing went black
Wasn’t that a party

I’m sure it’s just my memory
Playing tricks on me
But I think I saw my buddy
Cutting down my neighbour’s tree

Could’ve been the whiskey
Might’ve been the gin
Could’ve been the three or four six-packs,
I don’t know, but look at the mess I’m in
My head is like a football
I think I’m going to die
Tell me, me oh, me oh my
Wasn’t that a party

Billy, Joe and Tommy
Well they went a little far
They were sittin’ in my back yard, blowing on a sireen
From somebody’s police car

So you see, Your Honour
It was all in fun
The little bitty track meet down on main street
Was just to see if the cops could run
Well they run us in to see you
In an alcoholic haze
I sure can use those thirty days
To re-cover from the party

Could’ve been the whiskey
Might’ve been the gin
Could’ve been the three or four six-packs,
I don’t know, but look at the mess I’m in
My head is like a football
I think I’m going to die
Tell me, me oh, me oh my
Wasn’t that a party
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Rovers Irish – Wasn’t That A Party Lyrics
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Rovers Irish – Wasn’t That A Party Lyrics

www.lyricsfreak.com/i/txtstripes_large.gif); min-height: 598px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: 30px;”>Could’ve been the whiskey
Might’ve been the gin
Could’ve been the three or four six-packs,
I don’t know, but look at the mess I’m in
My head is like a football
I think I’m going to die
Tell me, me oh, me oh my
Wasn’t that a party

Someone took a grapefruit
Wore it like a hat
I saw someone under my kitchen table
Talking to my old tom cat
They were talking about hockey
The cat was talking back
Long about then every-thing went black
Wasn’t that a party

I’m sure it’s just my memory
Playing tricks on me
But I think I saw my buddy
Cutting down my neighbour’s tree

Could’ve been the whiskey
Might’ve been the gin
Could’ve been the three or four six-packs,
I don’t know, but look at the mess I’m in
My head is like a football
I think I’m going to die
Tell me, me oh, me oh my
Wasn’t that a party

Billy, Joe and Tommy
Well they went a little far
They were sittin’ in my back yard, blowing on a sireen
From somebody’s police car

So you see, Your Honour
It was all in fun
The little bitty track meet down on main street
Was just to see if the cops could run
Well they run us in to see you
In an alcoholic haze
I sure can use those thirty days
To re-cover from the party

Could’ve been the whiskey
Might’ve been the gin
Could’ve been the three or four six-packs,
I don’t know, but look at the mess I’m in
My head is like a football
I think I’m going to die
Tell me, me oh, me oh my
Wasn’t that a party

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Posted on

“CRASH” THE WOOD DUCK RETURNS TO SMASH MORE DISHES




WOOD DUCK RETURNS TO SMASH MORE DISHES

“Alan, I found her!”
“I searched all yesterday and couldn’t find her…where did you catch her?”
“She was  wedged in between the big black flat back cupboard and the wall…I heard a faint rustle….had to move dishes and get down on hands and knees but
there she was waiting for help.”
“Second time around this  year…why does she like our chimney so much?”
“Looking for an old tree trunk for a  nest…”
“We saw the male out on the pond with her the other day…why is he never caught?”
“Females are nesters…males are just pesters.”
“Well, Let’s name her CRASH because she seems to love breaking  dishes.”
-She got two of the beer steins and a big blue vase and  glasses.”
“How can we stop her?”
“Maybe just give up and turn the house over to her for the next few weeks”

alan skeoch
Marjorie skeoch
April 2018





On Apr 20, 2018, at 10:31 PM, SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com> wrote:


ICE STORM APRIL 16, 2018:  STUCK WITH A DUCK


alan  skeoch
April 17, 2018

THERE have been better days…. April 16 was a bad day.  The decision to go to the  farm was an error in judgment I suppose.  But then again, if
I had not gone then maybe the LITTLE DUCK WOULD BE DEAD and the house would be wrecked.

5EFA4D12-6F46-4293-A5AD-ACCC39CA1854@hitronhub.home“><z+uDkX3BScSr85nxH+58+g_thumb_159f.jpg>

“Alan, are sure the road  is OK?”

“Well Woody, I think we have a problem.   Snow  with a crust of ice on top that is thick enough 
for us  to walk  on.  Too thick, Woody, Can we get the truck n there.  Two wheel drive but still
have the snow tires.”

“Take a chance, Alan…turn in fast…cut a trail through the crust.”

“Not going to make it, Woody…we are stuck…spinning tires…snow and ice up under the truck.”

“What to do?  Call Andrew, he might be somewhere nearby.”

“Good idea.   Ring Ring ring…,”Andy, Woody and I are in a bit of trouble….got the truck 
stuck in the lane…ice storm is bad…Can you come up ro help?”

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“Give me an hour or so…take Woody into the house and I’ll get you out.  You should have known better than to try 
to ride on top of the ice….regular thing with you.”

“Not all my fault…Woody said  to take a run at it.”

“Fine advisor, Dad…see you in an hour.”

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“And it’s getting dark…sleet and ice coming down now.  Road is as slick as a salesman’s blather, Woody.  LOOK AT the old barn…belonged to 
J..S. Woodsworth years ago.  Really bleak looking today.”

“Stop talking.  Open the door…neighbour phoned Marjorie  to say the power has been off all week  end.  I Just hope
the propane is firing away….”

“Quite pretty, isn’t it Woody…the ice coating everything.”
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“Look at the bird house, Alan…loaded with ice.”

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“Open the  door…my feet are frozen, Alan.”

“There…we are now about to get warm….OH NO!  WE HAVE HAD A BREAK IN!!  BROKEN GLASS ALL OVER.”


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“WHY WOULD a robber break  all this glass?”

“Not a robber, Alan, I hear something moving in the bathroom…maybe a raccoon…or coyote….”

“Quiet , Woody, I Hear it too…close the doors…I’ll get a towel.”


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“It’s a DUCK, Alan…must have come down the chimney in the ice storm…thought it was a hollow log.”

“Woody, I am going too catch her if I can.  Hope her wings are not broken…There she  is…FLOP FLOP…Got her  covered.”

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“She seems to be glad we came along Woody.”

“Real heroes!”

“Set her down on the verandah…see if she is going to be OK”

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“What kind of duck is she?”

“Smaller than a Mallard…look at that odd  crest on the back of herded….like a Merganzer maybe…small duck…maybe a Wood duck…Damn, Damn, 
Damn…she  looks like  the same  dick we had last year.”

“Likes smashing glasses and dishes…entertainment until her mate arrives.”

“There she goes…flying…not staying around to help clean up.”

“Check the window…see if Andy is here yet.”

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Bleak out there, Alan, I am going to curl up on my bed while you clean up the glass.”

“Wish Marjorie was  here…”

“Why?”

“She would do the clean up better than me.”

“Andy is here, Alan.”

“Good…I bet he give me another lecture. “

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“Get in your truck, Dad, and put it in reverse…gently…my truck is on solid ice…need all the help we can get.”

“Glad to see you, Andy.”

“Never a dull moment, Dad…you seem to find pickles even in winer time.  How is that torn Achilles tendon doing?.”

“Just fine…”

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“Great…we are now out, Woody…road is sheer ice though…can’t fool around.”

“Did  you tell Andy about the duck, Alan?”

“Not yet…I am  going send him a picture…sort of  a thank you.”

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“Where are you going, Andy…on foot?”

“Now  I have to get my truck in here with the trailer…”

“Need  help?”

“No!”

“I left a duck to give you a hand Andy”

“A what?”

“A LITTLE BROWN FEMALE DUCK…”

B3B7300C-E2F9-4B4E-8EE9-B6201C876A21@hitronhub.home“><NvnhwLHrTnGy7ARIapuvng_thumb_15aa.jpg>

“Sometimes I think my dad is nuts….Did he say Duck or something else?”

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Posted on

TREADMILL WITH ANDREW AND MARJORIE AT CNE


IN MEMORY OF DAISY…”YOU GOOD DOG, YOU!”

WE TRAINED our dog Daisy to run this treadmill which in turn made the grain cleaner work…fanning mill.   Daisy loved doing the work 
for no reward.  she would just hop on the machine and get everything moving.  In this case we had her  down at
the CNE where she was  a big hit.  Earlier Daisy did the work at a farm show near Milton which  got me in a bit of trouble…see dialogue.

“OK, Daisy hop on…I’ll release the brake.”
“the poor dog!”  Exclaimed one woman at the show.
“She loves doing the work.”
“How do  you know that, young man!”
“Look at her…”

“How long will she have to turn the machine?”
“I let her work until she drops.”
“You do that…the nerve…terrible…then what do you do?”
“I go down to the SPCA and get another dog.”

Now that was a  stupid thing to say.  Little wonder that some people
think I’m a fool. The woman took off fast and
I expected  a visit from animal cruelty people but no one ever came.
Daisy continued her demonstrations for a long time.  Her death was
very sad.  At the time I was doing CBC radio broadcasts on Radio Noon
in Toronto.  The broadcast about the death of  Daisy was delivered to an
empty broadcast room.  Everyone was crying…me included. Remember
that song about OLD BLUE?   

The song comes from the Mississippi region of the USA when hunting
was a common thing and eh need for a good hunting dog was essential.
I think of Daisy every time I hear the song.

I had a dog and his name was Blue
And I betcha five dollars he’s a good dog, too
Come on, Blue
You good dog, you

I shouldered my gun and I tooted my horn
And I went to get a possum in the new ground corn
Come on, Blue
You can come too

(chorus)

Old Blue bayed, and I went to see
Blue had a possum in a ‘simmon tree
Come on, Blue
You good dog, you

That possum come out on a swinging limb
Blue barked at the possum, possum growled at him
Come on, Blue
You good dog, you

(chorus)

Blue grinned at me and I winked at him
I shook out the possum out, Blue took him in
Come on, Blue
You good dog, you

Baked that possum nice and brown
And I layed them sweet potatoes round and round
Come on, Blue
You can have some, too

(chorus)

Well, Old Blue died and he died so hard
He shook the ground in my backyard
Go on, Blue
You good dog, you

Dug his grave with a silver spade
Lowered him down with a golden chain
Go on, Blue
You good dog, you

(chorus)

When I get to heaven first thing I’ll do
Take my horn and blow for Blue
Go on, Blue
I’m comin’ too

Come on Blue, come on Blue
There’s a possum in Heaven for me and you
Go on, Blue
You good dog, you

(chorus)


Posted on

ICE STORM APRIL 17, 2018: BAD DAY FOR ME…GOOD DAY FOR THE DUCK

OH…I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT WOODY IS OUR DOG. YES, HE CAN SPEAK BUT HE ONLY DOES SO WHEN WE ARE ALONE. HE LIKES TRAVELLING WITH US…ALTHOUGH HE HAS MISGIVINGS.

> On Apr 20, 2018, at 10:31 PM, SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com> wrote: > > ICE STORM APRIL 16, 2018: STUCK WITH A DUCK > > alan skeoch > April 17, 2018 > > THERE have been better days…. April 16 was a bad day. The decision to go to the farm was an error in judgment I suppose. But then again, if > I had not gone then maybe the LITTLE DUCK WOULD BE DEAD and the house would be wrecked. > > > > “Alan, are sure the road is OK?” > > “Well Woody, I think we have a problem. Snow with a crust of ice on top that is thick enough > for us to walk on. Too thick, Woody, Can we get the truck n there. Two wheel drive but still > have the snow tires.” > > “Take a chance, Alan…turn in fast…cut a trail through the crust.” > > “Not going to make it, Woody…we are stuck…spinning tires…snow and ice up under the truck.” > > “What to do? Call Andrew, he might be somewhere nearby.” > > “Good idea. Ring Ring ring…,”Andy, Woody and I are in a bit of trouble….got the truck > stuck in the lane…ice storm is bad…Can you come up ro help?” > > > > “Give me an hour or so…take Woody into the house and I’ll get you out. You should have known better than to try > to ride on top of the ice….regular thing with you.” > > “Not all my fault…Woody said to take a run at it.” > > “Fine advisor, Dad…see you in an hour.” > > > > > > > > > > > “And it’s getting dark…sleet and ice coming down now. Road is as slick as a salesman’s blather, Woody. LOOK AT the old barn…belonged to > J..S. Woodsworth years ago. Really bleak looking today.” > > “Stop talking. Open the door…neighbour phoned Marjorie to say the power has been off all week end. I Just hope > the propane is firing away….” > > “Quite pretty, isn’t it Woody…the ice coating everything.” > <2oijBupjToKv0RmtQDRqDA_thumb_15ad.jpg> > > “Look at the bird house, Alan…loaded with ice.” > > > > “Open the door…my feet are frozen, Alan.” > > “There…we are now about to get warm….OH NO! WE HAVE HAD A BREAK IN!! BROKEN GLASS ALL OVER.” > > > > > > > “WHY WOULD a robber break all this glass?” > > “Not a robber, Alan, I hear something moving in the bathroom…maybe a raccoon…or coyote….” > > “Quiet , Woody, I Hear it too…close the doors…I’ll get a towel.” > > > > > “It’s a DUCK, Alan…must have come down the chimney in the ice storm…thought it was a hollow log.” > > “Woody, I am going too catch her if I can. Hope her wings are not broken…There she is…FLOP FLOP…Got her covered.” > > > > “She seems to be glad we came along Woody.” > > “Real heroes!” > > “Set her down on the verandah…see if she is going to be OK” > > > > “What kind of duck is she?” > > “Smaller than a Mallard…look at that odd crest on the back of herded….like a Merganzer maybe…small duck…maybe a Wood duck…Damn, Damn, > Damn…she looks like the same dick we had last year.” > > “Likes smashing glasses and dishes…entertainment until her mate arrives.” > > “There she goes…flying…not staying around to help clean up.” > > “Check the window…see if Andy is here yet.” > > > > > Bleak out there, Alan, I am going to curl up on my bed while you clean up the glass.” > > “Wish Marjorie was here…” > > “Why?” > > “She would do the clean up better than me.” > > “Andy is here, Alan.” > > “Good…I bet he give me another lecture. ” > > > > “Get in your truck, Dad, and put it in reverse…gently…my truck is on solid ice…need all the help we can get.” > > “Glad to see you, Andy.” > > “Never a dull moment, Dad…you seem to find pickles even in winer time. How is that torn Achilles tendon doing?.” > > “Just fine…” > > > > > > > > > “Great…we are now out, Woody…road is sheer ice though…can’t fool around.” > > “Did you tell Andy about the duck, Alan?” > > “Not yet…I am going send him a picture…sort of a thank you.” > > > > > “Where are you going, Andy…on foot?” > > “Now I have to get my truck in here with the trailer…” > > “Need help?” > > “No!” > > “I left a duck to give you a hand Andy” > > “A what?” > > “A LITTLE BROWN FEMALE DUCK…” > > > > “Sometimes I think my dad is nuts….Did he say Duck or something else?” > >

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ICE STORM APRIL 17, 2018: BAD DAY FOR ME…GOOD DAY FOR THE DUCK

ICE STORM APRIL 16, 2018:  STUCK WITH A DUCK


alan  skeoch
April 17, 2018

THERE have been better days…. April 16 was a bad day.  The decision to go to the  farm was an error in judgment I suppose.  But then again, if
I had not gone then maybe the LITTLE DUCK WOULD BE DEAD and the house would be wrecked.


“Alan, are sure the road  is OK?”

“Well Woody, I think we have a problem.   Snow  with a crust of ice on top that is thick enough 
for us  to walk  on.  Too thick, Woody, Can we get the truck n there.  Two wheel drive but still
have the snow tires.”

“Take a chance, Alan…turn in fast…cut a trail through the crust.”

“Not going to make it, Woody…we are stuck…spinning tires…snow and ice up under the truck.”

“What to do?  Call Andrew, he might be somewhere nearby.”

“Good idea.   Ring Ring ring…,”Andy, Woody and I are in a bit of trouble….got the truck 
stuck in the lane…ice storm is bad…Can you come up ro help?”


“Give me an hour or so…take Woody into the house and I’ll get you out.  You should have known better than to try 
to ride on top of the ice….regular thing with you.”

“Not all my fault…Woody said  to take a run at it.”

“Fine advisor, Dad…see you in an hour.”








“And it’s getting dark…sleet and ice coming down now.  Road is as slick as a salesman’s blather, Woody.  LOOK AT the old barn…belonged to 
J..S. Woodsworth years ago.  Really bleak looking today.”

“Stop talking.  Open the door…neighbour phoned Marjorie  to say the power has been off all week  end.  I Just hope
the propane is firing away….”

“Quite pretty, isn’t it Woody…the ice coating everything.”

“Look at the bird house, Alan…loaded with ice.”


“Open the  door…my feet are frozen, Alan.”

“There…we are now about to get warm….OH NO!  WE HAVE HAD A BREAK IN!!  BROKEN GLASS ALL OVER.”




“WHY WOULD a robber break  all this glass?”

“Not a robber, Alan, I hear something moving in the bathroom…maybe a raccoon…or coyote….”

“Quiet , Woody, I Hear it too…close the doors…I’ll get a towel.”



“It’s a DUCK, Alan…must have come down the chimney in the ice storm…thought it was a hollow log.”

“Woody, I am going too catch her if I can.  Hope her wings are not broken…There she  is…FLOP FLOP…Got her  covered.”


“She seems to be glad we came along Woody.”

“Real heroes!”

“Set her down on the verandah…see if she is going to be OK”


“What kind of duck is she?”

“Smaller than a Mallard…look at that odd  crest on the back of herded….like a Merganzer maybe…small duck…maybe a Wood duck…Damn, Damn, 
Damn…she  looks like  the same  dick we had last year.”

“Likes smashing glasses and dishes…entertainment until her mate arrives.”

“There she goes…flying…not staying around to help clean up.”

“Check the window…see if Andy is here yet.”



Bleak out there, Alan, I am going to curl up on my bed while you clean up the glass.”

“Wish Marjorie was  here…”

“Why?”

“She would do the clean up better than me.”

“Andy is here, Alan.”

“Good…I bet he give me another lecture. “


“Get in your truck, Dad, and put it in reverse…gently…my truck is on solid ice…need all the help we can get.”

“Glad to see you, Andy.”

“Never a dull moment, Dad…you seem to find pickles even in winer time.  How is that torn Achilles tendon doing?.”

“Just fine…”






“Great…we are now out, Woody…road is sheer ice though…can’t fool around.”

“Did  you tell Andy about the duck, Alan?”

“Not yet…I am  going send him a picture…sort of  a thank you.”



“Where are you going, Andy…on foot?”

“Now  I have to get my truck in here with the trailer…”

“Need  help?”

“No!”

“I left a duck to give you a hand Andy”

“A what?”

“A LITTLE BROWN FEMALE DUCK…”


“Sometimes I think my dad is nuts….Did he say Duck or something else?”