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EPISODE 150 LAKE OF THE WOODS…”Daisy and Sonny nearly lost…nearly a tragedy”

EPISODE  150   LAKE  OF THE WOODS…”Daisy and Sonny nearly lost…nearly a tragedy!”

Lake of the Woods  is sprinkled with thousands of small islands.  We lived on one of the islands for a week or two.
 A tragedy nearly happened.

alan skeoch
Oct. 2020

My good friend Terry Wickstrom owns a small island on Lake of the Woods, near the Manitoba / Ontario border.
We spent a few weeks with him long, long ago when our boys were small and before Terry was married and
had his own kids.

To a person who does not know Lake  of the Woods my previous  comment might sound like a typical cottager 
comment.  So let’s get one ting straight.  The Lake of the Woods is one vast wilderness,  36th largest lake
in the world.  Only a few people have been  granted cottage land on the lake.

Most of the Lake of the Woods remains a pristine wilderness…sort of a place that time forgot.

Wick’s cabin sits rather hidden on his small island…perhaps an acre in size.  Almost attached is a smaller
island like the one below where we watched  a  family of mink go fishing every morning before we had
our spartan breakfast of oatmeal  and powdered milk and coffee.

“What’s up today, Wick?”
“A few miles west of here there are some friends…thought we would go there.”
“Leave our dogs here…they should be fine.”
“Not too much room in the boat anyway.” (I forget whether we were taking
a canoe or the small rowboat with the 6 hp motor.  Wish I could remember
because the type of boat is important to the story.}

Marjorie,  Wick, our boys Kevin and Andrew (then about 10 and  12) wedged  ourselves
in the boat and pushed  off.  Lake of the Woods  is immense.  It is the 36th largest lake in the world
with thousands…yes, thousands…of small islands sprinkled here and there like stepping stones
for giants.   There always seems  to be a  light wind blowing so the lake gets choppy
and  can get more than choppy in big winds.   

We kept our eyes forward.  Unfortunately.   If we had looked  back at Wick’s island then 
we would  have noticed something was wrong.  But we did  not.  We just kept going
until one of the boys turned  around.

“What are those two logs back there?  We did not see them.”
“Logs? “
“Well, something way back behind us.”
“Maybe a bear swimming from one island to another…they do that.”
“Two objects back there…floating…or swimming.”
“Want to check them out?”
“Could be a pair of moose too…big looking”
“Let’s  check it out.”

So we turned the boat around and headed back towards Wick’s
island which  was now very distant.

“Something alive by the looks of it.”
“Two things.”
“Logs or bears…?”

“Holy Samoley…those are our dogs…Daisy and  Sonny…following us.”
“They must have been swimming for a long time…Quick, get close to them.”
“Grab Daisy by the collar …  pull her into the boat…careful…don’t tip.”
“I got Sonny…got him in.”

The dogs had  seen us  take off, perhaps  half an hour or an hour ago. 
Both Labradors…mother and son.  They loved water and they loved
us so they decided to follow.  By the time we got them they were a 
long distance from Wick’s island.  Lucky they were spotted.  But, at a distance,
they did not look like dogs.   More like logs.   We could have continued
forward and left them swimming.  Could a Labrador dog swim for miles
in an open lake?   

Better not to think about that.


Terry Wickstrom’s island is smaller than the distant island in this picture.  Attached by a spit of rock is a  second island almost exactly like this
island in the foreground.    





Some of the islands  are large but most are very small.  Most are empty and willing to be explored.

This picture is the closest to our situation with the dogs.   Imagine being twice this distance from Wick’s island
and  noticing two blackish dots in the distance behind our boat.  Pure chance that the dogs were spotted.


It is  difficult to spot swimming creatures like this coyote or wolf swimming to an island on Lake of the Woods.
Almost invisible.  I bet you saw the big  rock before you saw the wolf or coyote.    Our dogs were a long
way behind  our boat when spotted.  Pure luck.

Imagine the relief we felt when we rescued our dogs.

Do not imagine what could have happened.

alan skeoch
Oct. 2020

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EPISODE 149 RIVERWOOD…A DELIGHT FOR THE EYES

EPISODE 149   RIVERWOOD … A DELIGHT FOR THE EYES


alan skeoch
Oct. 24, 2020





“Alan, let me take you to Riverwood for a walk.”
“Too busy.”
“You are not that busy.”
“Awwww!”

As  things turned out, Marjorie was  correct.  How could  I
ever be so busy that I nearly missed Riverwood in full colour
…complete with two cute Indian  dancers having a great
time filming themselves and smiling for my camera.”







Riverwood  is  a huge tract of forest bordering the Credit River.  Long ago it was a private estate but now is open for all to 
enjoy.   Not just humans, by the way.  All sorts of wild life live here but are not seen  very often.  Several pairs of coyotes rear their
young in secluded  corners of Riverwood.   Deer manage to co exist if tenuously.  Riverwood is a  treasure…not to be missed right
now.   So  pack  up your troubles in your old kit bag and head for Riverwood.

WHAT IS RIVERWOOD?

Riverwood is hard to describe.  Best definition?  “Riverwood  is a 150 acre wilderness in the centre of the City of Mississauga.”
Much  more  could be said.   But let’s just consider the wilderness aspect in this photo essay.  The two charming Indians dancers
hint at the cultural significance of Riverwood but today it was the wilderness that was dominant.


And  what a delightful surprise, these two young ladies  were dancing in he forest, all alone with their camera.  Smiling at our
intrusion.  And their colourful clothing complemented to forest or vice versa.   We live in an enchanted land for sure.


Bird feeders are located here and there in the wilderness drawing photographers and birders both.


From a Riverwood high point it is  possible to hide and look for deer or coyotes on the flat Riverwood grassy plain below.


Put yourself in this picture.  Easy to do.  Drive to Riverwood and take a hike in any direction.   Too bad that those of you in
England, Switzerland, USA, Scotland, Korea, Australia cannot visit Riverwood.  I  hope my pictures are something
you can enjoy.




This “Pine Forest” sculpture fits so well with Riverwood.  When we visited the sculpture
there was a little boy hiding from his mother in the forest below. See if you can find him.


alan skeoch
Oct. 2020
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EPISODE 148 ANDGRY SKY AS OCTOBER DRAWS TO AN END (OCT. 2020)

EPISODE 148   ANGRY SKY AS OCTOBER DRAWS TO AN  END


AlAN skeoch
Oct. 2020

“What’s that noise…deep,gutteral…mechanical?”
“AIR RAID Warning.”
“Why a warning?”
“Weatherman says to expect possible tornado … large hailstones.”
“What are we supposed to do?”
“The radio says  to seek shelter if sky looks dangerous”


“So, a good time to take pictures…”

“I read  that we  are experiencing more dangerous storms as a  result of climate change.”


“What can  we  do?   Can our changing  climate be  controlled?



“When I  was  a  kid I thought our world…or earth…was so immense it was  beyond comprehension.”

“Today , Oct. 23, 2020, the earth seems such  a  small place.”


“Every time I  see a tree I say a thank  you.   Trees  breath in carbon dioxide, extract the carbon, and breath out
oxygen.”

“Human beings and all the living and creating creates of this earth only appeared  on earth when the
atmosphere began to contain oxygen.”



“Did you know that three quarters of the earth is covered with water.”

“In  other words the land  upon which we depend is very limited…”


“Just driving up the fifth line four or five times a week reminds  me of the shaky balance that is the background  of our lives.”



“Do you know what I fail to comprehend no matter how many times it is explained?

“No, what?”

“The atmosphere.  How come our earth has captured this thin envelope of air?”

“I was reading that Mars once had an atmosphere but it drifted off into space.   How is it
that the earth keeps the air?


“Come to think of it,  these angry looking clouds are quite wonderful.”

“Why?”

“They carry water.   Where there is water there will be life.”




alan skeoch
oct. 2020
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EPISODE 147 TIME TO COLLECT LEAVES

EPISODE 147     PRESSING MAPLE LEAVES…WHY DO IT?

alan skeoch
oct. 2020

Long after our grandparents had  passed on we found reminders  of Grandma.   Each  fall, about the end of  October,
she collected a few leaves…reminders of the beauty of nature.  Before the leaves crumpled up she wedged them
into books and bibles.  

“I wonder why she did  that?”
“I think she did that for us  to find long after she was gone…a reminder that she
once lived  among us.”


alan skeoch
Oct. 2020


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EPISODE 146 PUMPKIN CARVING…HUMAN AND ANIMAL…UGLY FOR SURE


EPISODE 146   PUMPKIN CARVING…HUMAN AND  ANIMAL…UGLY FOR SURE

alan skeoch
Oct. 2020



“Alan, you must carve the pumpkins.”
“Why?  There will be no shelling out this  years due to Covid  19”
“People like to see the pumpkins as they drive by…they are pretty.”
“OK…I’ll get the butcher knives”

What a  mess resulted.  My carving was not great but later I had help
by carvers who used their teeth.  The end result is not good.



“Alan, I see  you had help with the carving…no kids  will come by
our house this halloween  for sure.
“The squirrels…black and grey mostly…maybe even a red one.”
“Where do they live?”
“Not in any of our trees…no big balls of leaves  high up.”
“Then where did they come from?”
“Let’s just sit on the lawn chairs and watch.”

“Holy Samoley…we have a bunch of black  squirrels living in our house…aluminum siding
pulled aside way up top.”
“Get the live trap…”

alan skeoch
oct. 2020
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Fwd: EPISODE 145 LEGEND OF THE SKEOCH NAME

EPISODE 145       THE LEGEND OF THE SKEOCH NAME


alan skeoch
Oct. 2020




The Battle of Bannockburn IN 1314 was a bloody affair that seemed  to favour the English until their war horses  and soldiers  got mired
in the muddy swampland at Bannockburn.   
Before the battle of  Bannockburn a priest presided over the saying of mass as shown  here.  The Scottish soldiers bent their knees
and  surrendered themselves to their God.  The English recon troops thought this was surrender to the English.  Bad error.  The priest
above carried  with him religious relics of St. Columba, the Irish saint who converted the Scots … and also  dedicated the church of 
St Skeoch near Craig and the chapel of St. Skeoch at Bannockburn.  One source  stated that the battle was fought on the Skeoch steading
(Skeoch farm) .


This painting is useful in that it shows  civilians on the battlefield helping the wounded.  Also a young boy who seems lost.

Robert the Bruce fought with a battle axe as  pictured above.  With that axe he killed one of the English leaders .  TURNED THE BATTLE
How wold  you like this battle axe planted  in your brain?

I , ALAN  SKEOCH, SURRENDER….


I give up.  Surrender.  My search for St. Skeoch has numbed  my brain.  You may have more
strength than  I do  but I wager you do  not.  Try reading 502 pages filled with Scottish saints.
And that was not the end of the book.  It took 502 pages to find St. Skeoch who is briefly mentioned
under the heading ‘obscure Irish saints’.   A few years ago my good friend Ed Jackman who is
a Dominican priest offered to search  for St. Skeoch in some book of the saints.  He never found
her.  Yes, she is  female.   Now I understand why.  Scotland  is full of saints.  Seems to me that
every well in Scotland has been dedicated to a saint.

I have spent so much time searching for the old girl, St. Skeoch, that Marjorie fears I am becoming celibate.
No fears.  I have put down the book of saints.  Leave it for a better person.  Maybe you.  Consult James 
Murray  Mackinlay, M.A., Folk For of Scottish Lochs and Springs,  Ancient Church dedications  in
Scotland, published in 1914.  It is on the internet word for word.  Hours and hours, three days off and
on.  What did I find?   On page 502 I hit pay dirt…sort of.  Yes, Page 502!  “One of St. Columba’s companions  from Ireland (in 12th century) to Iona bore
the name ‘Echoid’.  Bishop Reeves thinks that it is  represented in a corrupted form in the name
of the ancient Forfarshire parish of St. Skeoch or St. Skay, otherwise Dunninald,  now included in 
Craig.  Its church, which no longer exists, stood” near Elephant Rock north east of  Edinburgh.
And there was a St. Skeoch chapel at  Bannockburn.

Makes me tired  just putting this in print.  And it probably bores you, the readers,  silly.

Why am I writing this?  Because of the legend…truth or myth about Skeoch origin.

THE LEGEND OF JOHN AND  JAMES SKEOCH

I think it was aunt Greta or maybe Aunt Elizabeth that first told me the legend.
To them it was  truth I think.  The story came down through the family 
orally.  Nothing firm.  Hearsay.  Let me put the story forward in as brief a
way as  possible…using hypothetical dialogue.

“Alan, our name dates back to the Battle of Bannockburn…1314”
“How?”
“After the battle ended  two young boys were found alive on the battlefield.”
“How young?”
“No one knows.  But young enough that they did not know who they were …very young.”
“Who found them?”
“No one knows…likely Scottish  soldiers combing the blood strewn field for weapons or
things of value.”
“What happened to the boys?”
“They were taken to the chapel of St. Skeoch…chapel was at Bannockburn…boys taken there
as orphans.”
“Who was at the chapel?”
“No one knows now…maybe a priest.  Chapels were smaller than churches usually
and were places for prayer.   Tiny building likely.  The boys were taken there according to the legend.
And given names.”
“Names?”
“They must have been very young if they did not know their own names.”
“Or they were renamed.”
“The new names…”
“Named James and  John Skeoch.”
“Is this true?”
“The story has been passed down through the family.  And the names James
and  John have  been passed from Skeoch parents to their first born males…through
the  centuries.   In 1846 the two boys that travelled to Canada from Scotland were
James and John Skeoch.  Your grandfather was  James Skeoch…he was the son
of the little boy who travelled to Fergus in 1846.  His son was James Skeoch, killed
in World War I..”
“If this is true, then why am I not named James,?
“Mom probably did not know the story, she was English,  and Dad did not really care.”

(aunt Elizabeth named  her eldest boy James…as seems  to have been the tradition)

“Let me get this straight.  Two little boys were found on the Bannockburn battlefield
in June, 1314.  They were placed  in the chapel dedicated to St. Skeoch which was
near the Battlefield.  Whoever took them in renamed them James and John Skeoch.
And that is  origin of our surname.” 

FINDING THE KERNEL OF TRUTH

There is no record to confirm the story of James and  John Skeoch.  Nothing except
hearsay.  But there are a few facts that give a bit of credence to the story.

1) The Battle of Bannockburn was fought on the ‘Skeoch steading” (Skeoch farm)
2) There was a  chapel dedicated to St. Skeoch on the Banncokburn field
dating back to the 12th century and St. Columba.
3)  St. Skeoch was a sixth century Irish saint.  
4)  St. Columba dedicated a  church to St. Skeoch near Craig in Scotland…the chapel
at Bannockburn also it seems.
5)   Skeoch is  a place name … i.e. Skeoch Wood on the Isle of Cute, 
village of Skeoch at Bannockburn,  Skeoch Hill in Lowland Scotland.
6)  St. Skeoch is also known  as St. Skay

I have tried to keep this Episode as  short as  possible because I know many
readers will not give sweet goddamn about the Skeoch  name.  This is my
fifth version of the story.  I cut out the whole battle of Bannockburn other than
the date.

alan skeoch
Oct. 2020

post script:    A  researcher named  Adrian Dyack recorded the following
information on May 13, 2018.  Rather interesting.  I wonder if  he plowed
through the Mackilnay book of saints as  I did.


Discussion NO 7153

Saint Skeoch Church or “church of St. Doninad” was first mentioned in the written record of 1161 when it
was given by Ing Malcolm IV to Restenneth Priory.

Saint Skeoch, or Saint Skae, as it is locally pronounced, appears to have received its name from a saint 
of that name. St. Skae was given to the parish and to the chapel with its burial ground at the landward
end  of the Rock of St. Skae.   At present the Rock of St. Skae is more usually known by its descriptive
name of the Elephant Rock.  

The Church of St. Skeoch seems to have been suppressed for some time as in 1576 it was written that
“Sanct Skae or Dinnynum needs nae reidare” (Reader).   The church appears to have been restored about
1587, as in that year Andrew Leith had  “a gift of life” of 3 chalders, 12 bolls meal yearly out of the
bishoprick of Brechin for his services at the Kirks of “Marytoun, Inchbrock, Lunan and St. Skae”.

The parishes of St. Skeoch or Dunninald were united  with Inchbrock or Craig in 1618 to form the new
parish of Craig.

Who was St. Skae?  A.J. Warden, writing in 1885, said that St. Skeoch is supposed  to be one of the twelve 
disciples of St. Columba and a northern saint. There are three  saints of this name in the Irish Calendar.

Dr. Reeves considers the word a corruption of Echoid or Eochaidh, which is found under the name of St.
Skeoch in some of the south-western districts of Scotland.” 

Norman Atkinson, Senior Servies Manager for Cultural Services, Angus Council and a former Curator
of Montrose Museum has informed me, in recent correspondence that the church  was dedicated to St. Scaith
known as Skae or Skeoch, who was one of the three maidens  Munster.  She lived in the early sixth century

There is another Scottish church or chapel dedicated to her at Bannockburn and this is mentioned by
Professor Geoffrey Barrow in his book of Robert the Bruce.  This Irish virgin’s feast day is usually 
the 6’th of September but why she was commemorated in the church by the Rock of St. Skae is
not known.

The only ancient artefact which appears to be linked to the site was a small bone pendant with Celtic carving
but this was removed from Dunninald and has never been photographed or recorded.

Adrian L. Diack, MA
Posed by Adrian Diack on St. 25 May, 2013


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EPISODE 144 “GHOSTS COME FROM THE COFFINS WHEN THE SNOW BEGINS TO MELT, ALAN”







EPISODE 144   “GHOSTS COME FROM THE COFFINS WHEN THE SNOW BEGINS TO MELT, ALAN”

alan skeoch
Oct. 2020


This story is about a ghost. Sort of.   To make the story real we  have to go back in time to the year
1948.  Too a stormy Sunday afternoon.   To a story about ghosts.   And then the story jumps to the present…
to a sunny splendid October afternoon…Oct. 17, 2020.   The story has  legs so to speak, and  will be
continued in Episode 145.

(photo is similar to the bob sleigh in the story)


FIFTH LINE, WINTER 1948

“You boys  are cold..too cold.  Jump off the back of the slight and run behind, the horses cannot
go fast because the snow drifts are too deep.  Running will warm you up.”  said our Uncle, Frank  Freeman,
on one of  those miserable February Sundays as we tried to meet the Gray Coach  Bus at the
corner of the fifth line and Highway 7.  We were going home to Toronto. We  visited our grandparents
often on the Fifth line with the help of Uncle Frank and his horses.

Uncle Frank was never really appreciated when he was alive.  We took it for granted that he
and Aunt Lucinda would get up earlier on winter days and harness the team of horses then hook them up
to the big bob sleigh just to get us back to the city.  This was not a  simple task.  Then Uncle 
Frank had to turn around  and beat his way  back up the line to the barn where the horse harness
had to be removed and hung on  big hooks beside the horse stalls.  Then some fresh hay needed
to be pushed down to the stable from the threshing floor above.  Uncle Frank loved his horses.
“A horse  is better than a tractor,” he told  me often, “Horses need to rest.  Tractors never rest.
When the horse took a break, I got a break as well.”  I remember so much about those farm
visits.  Especially that winter day.

I remember that day clearly.  Eric  was 10 and I was 12 or thereabouts.  Uncle Frank  and mom
were wrapped in big buffalo robes and coats.  Collars turned  up, scarves across their faces.
This was not a nice day.  It was an adventure .  Eric  and I ran behind the sleigh.  Maybe a 
bit fearful we would not keep up and be forgotten.  Not likely.

But the trip was more than that because the only structure on the corner of the fifth line and
Highway 7 was a small graveyard with limestone markers angled various directions.  The graveyard 
is  still there.  Just the graveyard on the North east corner.  Nothing on the others.  Which means
it was a scary place for kids like us.   Uncle Frank made it moreso.

“Boys, when the snow begins to melt ghosts emerge from that graveyard.  Maybe not real ghosts
but something strange happens.  A white mist flats up around several of the headstones.”

Uncle Frank did not tell us this to frighten us.  He was simply stating what he had seen.
“White mist around the old gravestones sometimes”

That was around 1948…a long time ago.

Today, October 17, 2020, there is no  snow,  no ice, no snowdrifts for the team to
bust through, and Uncle Frank Freeman is  not around anymore.   But the graveyard is still
there.  Abandoned really.  I always give it a  wide birth when going to the farm.  Probably because
of Uncle Frank and the ghost story.  

I STOPPED THE TRUCK…PULLED OVER.



Today, Oct. 17, 2020, the little graveyard bursts with colour.  Maple leaves in their splendour.
Ghosts?  What a silly thought.

 Ridiculous, there are no ghosts…and if  there
were, they would not be whispy shadows in the graveyard  today.  The sun is shining,..the day is 
warm…and the maple leaves are still splendid.  Might be a good idea to stop and walk into
the graveyard…something you have never done in the past 70 years.  Do  it.”
 
So I parked the truck beside the road  and strolled into the tiny cemetery to read the
dedication stone erected  when all the limestone slabs  were gathered together.

WHAT A SHOCK!

I READ THE 1953 GRAVE MARKER WHICH SAID, “ERECTED BY THE BANNOCKBURN COMMUNITY”

This will not seem shocking to any reader unless he  or she  is familiar with the Skeoch family and the 
battle  of  Bannockburn deep in the history of Scotland  when a Scottish army lead  by Robert Bruce defeated
the English at Bannockburn.    Another name for the place of this defeat is “the Skeoch steading”…i.e. the Skeoch farm.



So what?  There is a legend that has been passed down through our family.  A legend.  A story that may or may  not be
truse.  I am still unsure about some aspects of the legend but there is a core  of truth which keeps recurring associated
with Bannockburn,  That legend will be the subject of the next Episode (145) for anyone interested.   Family history
may not be interesting to anyone but the family involved.   Legends, however, do  have an appeal beyond particular families.
So you may want to read the  legend and  help me find the core of truth.

Getting back to the little graveyard.  There are no Skeoch’s buried here.  Most of the gravestones commemorate the Worden  family
who purchased this tiny property for personal burials.  



What interested  me was the use of the term “Bannockburn” which reminded me that our section of the Fifth line, Erin township was
settled heavily by Scots…McLean, McEchern, Kerr, Leitch, Macdonald and others no doubt.  There  was a strong anti-English
prejudice according to my grandparents, Louisa and Edward freeman, who were Welsh/English.   “It tooks some time for us to
break down that anti-english feeling.  We did it with music.  I played the pump organ and Grandpa played the violin.  We were 
needed.”  (my words, but true to grandma’s comment)

In time, I got to know these Scots pioneer families.   But I did not know there ever was a Bannockburn community on the Fifth Line.
That community is  long gone now.  What remained for a while, apparently, was the Bannockburn School which  was just north
of the Bannockburn graveyard.  It is gone.  Gone Long ago for I have no memory of such  a school in my 80 years.
All that remains  is this  tiny forgotten graveyard.   

The ghost?   Well, the ghost is real in a way.  The ghost is “Bannockburn”.

SEE  EPISODE  145  — TRACING A LEGEND

alan skeoch
Oct. 17, 2020



Posted on

EPISODE 142 THOUGHTS ON A STORMY DAY…WE ALL HAVE THEM



Begin forwarded message:


From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>
Subject: Storm 6
Date: October 16, 2020 at 1:51:36 PM EDT
To: Alan Skeoch <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>




EPISODE 142     THOUGHTS ON A  STORMY DAY…WE ALL HAVE THEM

alan skeoch

Oct. 2020



While we are still enjoying the  beauty of Ontario in October,  we all know

what is coming.  November…  


OCTOBER 16, 2020, MY BIRTHDAY CLICKS BY FROM SECONDS TO MINUTES TO HOURS

So easy to mourn the loss of spring and summer.  So hard to welcome the late fall and  coming winter.

The  storm clouds are already gathering.  But let’s not get our underwear in a twist.
It is so easy to look at storm clouds and then transfer them metaphorically into
the concrete tough times in our lives.  So easy to get depressed by what is coming…climate change,
Covid  19, the U.S. election and lots more.

Let’s not do that.  Those storm clouds I have tried to capture are quite beautiful…even
readable if you want. Like the cloud below where i see a shepherd comforting his
sheep.  (He seems male but who knows ?)




I continuously marvel at our living world.  This envelope of oxygen, CO2

and Nitrogen that is just in the right balance for us to thrive. I am not sure

the universe holds many such  places as ours.  It is a treasure.

And on stormy days coffee tastes better and  crawling out of a  hot bath tub into
a warm bed has to be savoured.   Especially if it is accompanied by the pitter patter 
of raindrops on the windows and the wind sweeping leaves from the maple trees
so they can go to sleep as well.

Lucky we live in a place with changing seasons.  Not all humans have that good
fortune.  And I will grant you that not all humans want seasonal change. We
just bought a thousand dollars worth of snow tires for our van in the belief those 
rubber treads will keep us safe.  We know there is a down side coming…but the
winter winds…the snow and the ice…can be quite stunning.  As you may see
if I manage to keep these Episodes coming.

“Alan, you could at least help with the dishes.”
“Very true, I could.”
“Well…”
“Just give me a second or two to get this story arranged.”

Marjorie, like most women, is a multi-talker.  I can only do one
task at a time as she seems to have noticed.   I wonder how many
Marjories there are in this world.  I hope lots.









“Marjorie, how does rain happen?”

“Oh, Alan….”

“No,  I am serious.  How does rain happen?




















We are made mostly of  water.  And water has a way of circling around from sky 

to earth to ocean and back to sky again…then coming down in raindrops to start the circle

all over again.   Without water we are nothing.   With water we are really something
very unusual.

And just as Marjorie and I drove home the sun burst through and lit
up the highway with a rainbow.

Stormy days are not bad at all.  Contrasts with the golden days.  All is good.



We  are home.


alan skeoch

Oct. 16, 2020

Sent from my iPhone


Posted on

Fwd: EPISODE 141 “I TURNED 90 AND TOOK OFF IN A HARVARD….”, SAID BRAD SCHNELLER BREATHLESSLY



Begin forwarded message:


From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>
Subject: EPISODE 141 “I TURNED 90 AND TOOK OFF IN A HARVARD….”, SAID BRAD SCHNELLER BREATHLESSLY
Date: October 15, 2020 at 8:23:18 PM EDT
To: Alan Skeoch <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>



EPISODE 141   “I TURNED 90 AND TOOK OFF IN A HARVARD…”. SAID  BRAD  SCHNELLER BREATHLESSLY

alan skeoch
Oct. 11, 2020





“Alan, What a day this has been,” said  Brad Schneller breathlessly.  He was so excited he could not
even sit down on our socially distanced  lawn chairs.  He was flying high.  Why? Because he
had been flying high an hour earlier.

“I just turned 90 years  old and got my birthday wish…a  flight in a World War II Harvard.”
“You did what?”
“Sandra and the kids, Anne and David, Booked a joy ride for me out of Hamilton Airport…on a  Harvard .  We flew southwest
to Caledonia…”
“Dangerous?”
“Suppose so.  The pilot told  me not to touch any of the controls.  The Harvard  was  used
to train fighter pilots in World War II…two sets  of  controls.  I kept my hands  clear.”

Brad  just could not sit down.  He paced up and down our lawn keeping his distance 
…masked of course…but as excited as a kid in a candy store.
Marjorie served them, Sandra and Brad, ice cream on a stick.  Brad wolfed his down
as he described the flight.   Then he looked hungrily at Sandra’s which had not been eaten.
Between bites he told us about the flight.

“Flying in a Harvard has been a dream that I never believed would actually happen. Years  ago
I remember a  Harvard coming to land on my friend Bill Greig’s farm near Rockwood.  It was magnificent.
But beyond my grasp.  Then today, as I turned 90, the dream became real.”

“The Harvard  only flies  on good  days…clear sky in other words…and today was  just
perfect.”




FACTS  ABOUT HARVARD HISTORY

1The North American Harvards first appeared in 1937 
2) 1939, first 50 Harvards delivered to the RCAF, Sea Island, British Columbia
3) 1940, metal fuselage replaces  tube and fabric structure
4)  1940-1, Canada receives 1200 American made Harvards
5) 1941, Canada  begins manufacture of Harvards
6) 1940 to 1945, Canada builds 2,800 Harvard  Mk 11B’s distributed  to 15 flying schools
across  Canada
7) Harvards were necessary bridge from the Tiger Moth to Spitfire fighter aircraft and  other
front line fighters.
8)1945, Canada keeps  some Harvards  as trainers but large number were sold to civilians
9)1949, Cold War with the Soviet Union – Canada realizes it needs  Trainers again
and leases 100T-6J Texans from the United  States Air Force.
10) Canada orders 270 more Harvards toBE rebuilt by Canadian Car and Foundry, Thunder Bay.
11) Harvards continued to be used as trainers until retired in1966
12) 1938 to 1954, three were 20,110 Harvards belt, 3,370 built in Canada
13) “Countless numbers  privately owned Harvards are still flying today.”
14) The Hamilton Aircraft museum Harvards was built in 1953, sold  in 1965, donated back in 1973 by Dennis Bradley, Alan Ness and John Weir

ANOTHER 1951 HARVARD BEING RESTORED

  • Status: On display
  • Airworthiness: Under restoration to flying condition
  • Type: Trainer
  • Built: 1951
  • Serial Number: RCAF 20213
  • Construction Number: CCF4-4
  • Civil Registration: CF-UUU
  • Current Markings: RCAF 20213
  • Length: 28 ft 11 in
  • Wingspan: 42 ft
  • Power: 600 hp
  • Engine: 1 x Pratt & Whitney Wasp R-1340-AN-1
  • Maximum Speed: 180 mph
  • Cruising Speed: 140 mph
  • Service Ceiling: 22,400 ft
  • Range: 800 miles

North American Harvard Mk. IV











“Alan, this day has become one of the best days in my 90 years.”
(And Sandra, sitting opposite Brad on a lawn chair, smiled…happy for her husband)

alan skeoch
Oct. 11, 2020





Posted on

EPISODE 140 WILL THE MONARCH MAKE THE TRIP OR DIE TRYING

EISODE 140    WILL THE MONARCH MAKE THE TRIP OR DIE TRYING?


alan skeoch
Oct. 12, 2020



The Monarch  caught my eye as it grabbed hold of a lingering cosmos flower.  A cool day.
All the indicators screamed that winter was on the way.  Screamed in those vibrant colours
of late fall.   The Monarch should not be here.  It should have flown south a month ago.
Yet it seemed to know where it was going.  Heading south to Mexico.  Hopefully.  

Usually Monarch flit here and there. Land on one flower then flit to another.   This Monarch
gripped the Cosmos bloom for a  long, long time.  Was it a death grip? It held firm Long enough for me to get off the tractor
and try to get closer with my camera.  But I could not.  The cosmos was  growing on a
steep  face of land where the pond had dried up.  One slip and down I would go.  How could
I tell the Monarch  story without pictures of those beautiful wings?

Ninety percent (90%) of the Monarch  butterflies we enjoyed  20 years  ago are now gone.
And there is  a good chance they will all  be gone in the next 20 years.   

Should I do anything?  Could  I  do anything?  Maybe raise Monarchs?  Not so easy
as  many human raised Monarchs  seem to be missing the SOUTH GENE.  They
flit aimlessly and cannot survive when the heavy frost hits.  How do I know that?
Because one scientist lassoed  some home raised monarchs and found they did
not have the FLY SOUTH BEFORE THE COLD HITS gene.  Those Monarchs  living
in places  like Hawaii do  not need  that gene.  But our monarchs need it if they
are to survive.



Where was my lone Monarch  going?   After a  ten minute rest on the  cosmos the
butterfly would released its grip and continued south.  Erratically but definitely south.

How far is Mexico?  How many km. can a  Monarch fly in one day?  
What can it eat along the way?   My  Monarch stopped to answer 
questions.   It needed all the energy it could muster to make the north
shore of Lake Ontario that was 40 km. away.   Then it would face
the flight over Lake Ontario or Lake Erie.  Could my Monarch  carry
enough lunch for that flight?   Were there Monarch  restaurants still open
on the Mississippii flyway?

The trip is not as easy as it used to be.  Less  milkweed for them to eat as farm fields
get bigger and bigger and the old  fencerows get cleared.  In those fencerows the milk weed 
plants survived.  (Also survive in our garden at the expense of things we can eat.)  The forest
fires ravaging the American west are devastating to the Monarchs.  No  escape.  In 2016, 62 million 
trees died in California alone.  Today, in 2020, the death whole of forests is far worse.  Here in Central
North America there is  a  glimmer of hope due to the Monarch  Butterfly Biosphere Reserve
in Michigan, a UNESCO world  heritage site.

Perhaps the worst part of this horror story is the illegal logging of the Monarch butterfly’s
home sites  in Mexico.  They hang by the millions on those trees and die by the thousands
as  an illegal log is ‘harvested’.   Who is to blame?  No  easy  answer.

My monarch on this bright sunny fall day has to be admired.  Monarch  butterflies are the only
insects that migrate  like birds.  Migrate 3,000 miles to our farm.  Not the same monarch
however.  The progeny makes  the journey.  Some only live one month on the flight.  But 
the monarch  I see today has lived  for 8 months.  It has never seen  Mexico it seems
to know where Mexico is?   How is that?  The Monarch brain is the size of a pinhead
yet it knows this  sunny  day in mid October that it should be on its way south to 
Mexico…yes, brain the size of a pinhead.  What triggers that brain to head to Mexico?


I asked my Monarch.

“Where are you going?”
“Mexico.”
“Have you ever been there?
“Never.”
“Then how do you know where Mexico is?”
“My brain just cuts in and says ‘fly south’ when 
the temperature gets cooler.”
“A lot of humans, Canadians, do the same thing.  
Did you know that?”
“My brain is learning about the human migration
but not learning fast enough.  Millions of my kin
get killed on highways,  particularly US 35 which bisects
our flyway.”
“How do you know that?”
“Not sure…so many things in our life are disappearing
but I am reminded of a saying among butterflies…”We can but
hope that good  will be the final goal  of ill.”   That hope 
keeps us going.”
“We have the same expression of hope among us humans.”
“Maybe you humans can  do  something about the state of the
world.  Your brains are so  much larger than mine.”
“Size of brain and intelligence do not seems to go hand in hand in
North America these days.”
“That is  tragic.  Tragic for us, the Monarch  butterfly population,
and tragic for you, the human population that has peopled the earth.”
“I like your attitude…keep on flying…keep hope alive.”
“Right.  Well, I cannot hang here talking any longer.  I am late.
My target is the shore of Lake Ontario in the next few days…and
then Mexico before freeze up.”

And  away it went.  I forgot to get the name.  Not sure if the Monarch
was male or female.  I do know, however, that it was smart.  It knew
where it was going and would try to get there with all its might.

Wish I felt the same about us.

alan skeoch
Oct. 13, 2020

WHY ARE THESE COSMOS FLOWERS SO BRILLIANT.  THEY HAD NO CARE.  NO SPECIAL  WATERING.  NO LOVE AND SPECIAL  FOOD.
WHILE OUR SPECIAL COSMOS  GARDEN WHICH HAD CARE ALL SUMMER HAS BEEN DEAD AND GONE BY THE END OF
SEPTEMBER.  DID THESE COSMOS SURVIVE BECAUSE THE FLOWERS  KNEW THAT MY MONARCH BUTTERFLY, MY FRIEND,
WOULD BE ALONG?  I LIKE TO THINK SO.

OUR TREES  IN LATE FALL LOOK LIKE A MILLION…A BILLION…MONARCH BUTTERFLIES

JUST WAITING TO TALK WITH US.  

alan skeoch

Oct. 12, 2020