EPISODE 411 TRIPLE AXLE DUMP TRUCKS…. HOW DO THEY STOP IN TIME?


EPISODE 411   TRIPLE AXLE DUMP TRUCKS…HOW DO THEY STOP IN TIME?

alan skeoch
august 19, 2021


This is the truck I timed…speed limit?   Consistently 20 kph faster than the speed limit.  And one other very strange
thing.  See if you can see what I mean…look closely.   Look!  Look!   Then scroll down past the other dump trucks for
the strange thing.



I have never ever seen an OPP cruiser pull over a dump truck for speeding. 
That is rather odd.   Nor have I ever seen an 18 wheeler pulled over…nor a 22
wheeler.   Yesterday an 18 year old boy was killed by a cement mixer truck which
usually has 10 wheels.   Not sure who is at fault.  Cyclists often play fast and loose
with stop signs.  Lots of bikes on the road these days…and lots of cement trucks…and even
more dump trucks.  

Have you ever seen a cement mixer getting a speeding ticket by the OPP?
I think not.  

Probably because these trucks do not exceed the speed limit?  Right or wrong.?
So I did a little test on Trafalgar Road east of Milton about mid morning when traffic
was light.   I drove at the same speed as a dump trick.   When the speed limit
was 70 kph we drove at 90 kph…When the speed limit dropped to 60 kph we
drove at 80 kph.   Clearly in both instances we were speeding.

Given the choice who would get the speeding ticket?  Need I say more.

Why would a dump truck driver want to speed?   I interviewed a driver
a month or so ago when he had trouble dumping his load.

“Wet soil..stuck in the bottom…bitch to get out.”
“What do you need?”
“heavy shovel.”
“:How about an axe?
“great”

So he borrowed my axe.  Seems a long leased borrowing as I have never
seen the axe lately.  But I learned one thing from that driver.   He was worried.

“They expect me back for another load…now I will be late.”

So dump truck drivers want to pick up and dump their loads as fast
as possible.   That pressure might encourage speeding.  Right?

Tried to count the number of dump trucks I met today.   Had to give jump. Too many going too fast.’


What is strange?   There is no licence plate!    I have to have my licence plate clearly visible from behind
or I am fined and perhaps taken off the road.  Why is the dump truck any different?  I have no idea.

alan skeoch

P>S.   I am a tire counter.  There was a time when the biggest rigs on the road were “18 wheelers”.  That is no longer
true.  Today I counted 20…22 and even one seemed to have 24 wheels.   Makes me think.  How long does it take
a big rig to stop dead…even with air brakes?    Why do we hear the  term ‘jack knife’ so often.  Are most truck drivers
under pressure to get where they are going as fast as possible?   Danger danger danger danger!

Is it difficult to get a dump truck or big rig licence?

EPISODE 410 WHERE THE NUTS COME FROM…AT SHAW FESTIVAL AUGUST 17, 2021

EPISODE 410    WHERE THE NUTS COME FROM…AT SHAW FESTIVAL   AUGUST 17, 2021


alan skeoch
august 2021


Yes, we attended Charley’s Aunt at the Shaw Festival.   The play was
originally written and performed in the 1890’s.   That seems about where
it should have stayed.

There is one good line in the play….a line that has been repeated over
and over until it has become a bad line.   “I am Charley’s aunt from Brazil…where the
nuts come from.”   Must have been funny at one time.

Cost us $93 a seat up front.   Money gone.  I am trying to find a redeeming
feature of the play.    Ah, yes.  The actor playing at cross dressing as Charley’s Aunt
looks
and acts like Mr. Bean.   He has that rubber face and looks at times
like he has been hit with a water bomb or trash can lid.

When the curtain went down on Act two I packed up and got ready to leave.

“Alan, there is another act.”
“You must be joking.”
“You fell asleep.”
“Wish that were so.”

“Alan, did you really tell those people taking a break outside
 that there were seven more acts?
“I did. They were not amused. The man used a four letter word
that starts with F.

“Come in, Act Three is starting.”
“Give me a moment…I have a person
interested in buying my listening device…started at $20-…
getting serious now we are down to $5.”
“Alan, that is not yours to sell…belongs to the Shaw Festival”
“They got nearly $200 bucks from us, surely I can try to
get $5 back.”
Someone will report you…get you thrown out of here.”
“Really? “
“yes, really”
“If we get thrown out then we will escape Act Three.”
“God,  I’’ll seen the damn thing for a buck…just
get thrown out.”
“Alan, shut up….peopl;e are looking at you.”
“See that seat on the stage…I am going to go and
sit there…perhaps begin to sing Send in The Clowns”
“Alan, you are making a fool of yourself.”
“Nobody is listening…the Covid 19 separation gives everyone
a good chance to stretch out and go to sleep.

NOTE: as things turned out Act 3 was the best of a bad lot.  Why?
Because one of the females had a nice scarlet dress.

“Alan, what happened to those two people you told there
were 7 Acts.”
“Never saw them again.”




















“Alan, you sound just like your dad.”

“Great news.  What would he have done that was any different?”

“He would never spend $93 here.”
“And he would do the same thing You did to that poor couple outside
on the bench…caused them to miss Act Three.”
“I sold my listening device for 50 cents to that guy on the bench.


“Wonder how the play was received in the 1890’s?”
“Nothing else to do back then.”




EPISODE 409 NIAGARA ON THE LAKE – JEWEL IN CANADA’S CROWN as seen August 17, 2021

EPISODE 409      NIAGARA ON THE LAKE (no wonder people move there)


alan skeoch
august 17, 2021



So nice to be able to visit Niagara on the Lake once again.  Guess what?  It has not changed a bit.
If you like to shop for high end things then the main street has lots of places.  If you just like
to live on the cheap then the park at mouth of Niagara River is ready for you with 
free benches but a few dollars parking fee.  Reasonable since the public washroom is
safe and clean with attendants on duty.  

If you we’re there yesterday you may have seen a near nude man walking through the other park.  Bare white skin
with black braces holding up his shorts.    His shorts were the same colour of his skin.  White.  Soaked from the
rain. Looked naked.

 He cut across the Anglican graveyard to his car.  An apparition. No one charged
him with nudity in a public place.   Probably because others had got wet in the short rain shower but did not have
the ignorance to strip.   He put on a sweater and limped back to the performance of Charley’s Aunt.
(where he  met Marjorie)

He had a back up plan if police charged him.  He Would say he was a friend of Bill Saywell, a U. of T.
professor that he knew.  MOVED to the town.  Bill would get me out of trouble. Professors are usually a little weird…as are their friends .

SILLY COMMENT…PRETEND YOU DID NOT READ IT.

Imagine sitting on these chairs reading a good book…oR chatting with a bunch of People who find you disgusting.



NOW HERE IS A MOVIE IN FOUR FRAMES…TAKES SECONDS TO WATCH…SEE BELOW













NIAGARA ON THE LAKE GOLF CLUB RESTAURANT

“Table for two, sir?”
“No, we came for a swim in the Niagara River …here…where it
empties into Lake Ontario.”
“Steep here above the water.”
“Do we have to wear bathing suits?”
“Afraid so…golfers you know are a bit picky”
“Then can we borrow your bathing suits?”
“Sorry, I do not have any.”

“Oh, in that case we’ll take a table for two overlooking the River.”
“It’s our anniversary.”
“Then this will be a special meal, what would you like?”
“Two orders of fish and chips…assume the fish is bigger than a tomato can lid.”
“Yes, two large pieces each.”
“And to drink?”
“Coffee for Marjorie and I’ll have a pint of Oast beer…local brewery…if it’s cold.”
“And dessert?”
“Your biggest chocolate sundae… with one spoon.”
“No, two spoons, Alan.”
“One spoon…”

The waitress brought two spoons along with the bill which
was a very modest $57 plus a tip of 18%.



WE SPENT MUCH OF OUR FEW HOURS DRIVING AND WALKING AROUND THE TOWN…NO COST.




THE MOFFAT INN (above)

Decades ago when I taught a class of new and anxious teachers at the Faculty of Education.
Kids, just out of university as Marjorie and I once were.  Kids with little money but big hearts.
On the last day we threw a party at our house and these fresh faces presented us with
a week end stay at the Moffat Inn…we came in the winter time…long time ago.  Our room
had a wood fireplace and super bed.   Good times.  Always fresh.
I bet that room cost almost $100.  Somehow every time we pass the Moffat I feel younger.



THE WEATHER TOOK A NASTY TURN
AS WE HEADED HOME.







Halt…let’s not end this story with a downer.   An Angry sky.   We were very happy…nice anniversary.  Our anniversary..58th.  We did
not put that up in neon lights.  It was personal.   So here are a couple more cheerful pictures.

EPISODE 409 LAKELEE ORCHARDS…PEACHES ARE READY august 17,2021






This is Lynndon, the cheerful foreman of Lakelee Orchards…so nice to see him again


“MARJORIE, here is some good news on this dark day”
“We need good news…the world is desperate for it.”
“We’ll pull over at the Jordan exit…we’ll take the South Service Road … get a load of peaches…the free stone kind.”


“Hi…how much are the peaches this year?”
“$25 a box for the Number 1 kind”
“How heavy is the box? “
“Too heavy for you to carry….I’ll take them to the car from the cold room.”
“:What else is ready for us?”
“Nectarenes at $5 a plastic pack…ready to eat now.”
“Any plums?”
“Sure…$5 as well .”

I do not know how much money we saved…probably a few bucks on the peaches.  But the greeting was sincere
and it was nice to get fruit directly from the source.  And nice to see Linnden once again.

(Directions… Take QEW from Toronto to Jordan exit…then South Service Road which weaves a bit for a couple of miles
until you see the Lakelee Orchard buildings up a hill on your right…make immediate right
turn then drive in the lane and park where it seems reasonable.  Do it now.  Peach season 
is short.)

alan

EPISODE 408 MYSTERY PLANT IN OUR GARDEN

EPISODE 408   MYSTERY PLANT IN OUR GARDEN


alan skeoch
august 15, 1021

Our garden is out of control.  I have been reading about the Carboniferous era in 
geologic history 265 million years ago when the earth was hot and giant 
plants covered the globe.  I became a bit distracted until today when
I got back to the garden.  What a sight.   Some strange plant has taken over.
Huge leaves and snarly tendrils have crowded  out the pepper plants. But
The tomato plants are still in place gleefully producing tomatoes under 
the umbrella leaves of the mystery plant. 
strange.

Weeds can usually out compete the garden plants and by mid-august we
sort of give up after rescuing dozens cucumbers and other assorted vegetables.

We rescued nearly a bushel  of red tomatoes cooling themselves under
the great umbrella leaves of the mystery plant whose tendrils are now,
as I write, heading for the barn.

Two weeks ago we thought we were about to have a bumper crop of cucumbers.


Then these big yellow flowers began to appear beneath leaves the size of ash can lids.  The cucumbers gave up the battle.

Surprisingly the tomatoes are just fine after I slashed my way through to them

Under those leaves something big is growing.   getting bigger. each day…and it is not alone…six, eight ten of them inflating like hot air 
balloons.   Taking over 


We will  keep you posted.   Meanwhile I recommend you find a copy of John Windham’s great science fiction novel ‘Day of the Triffids’
in which a mysterious plant from outer space began to take over the world.   I think we have a Triffid in our garden.   

Fwd: EPISODE 401 CONCLUSION THE SHORT AND HORRIFIC LIFE OF GEORGE EVERITT GREEN, HOME CHILD , PART FIVE




EPISODE 401    THE SHORT AND HORRIFIC LIFE OF GEORGE EVERITT GREEN, HOME CHILD ,  PART FIVE

alan skeoch
august 2021

  THIS WILL BE MY CONCLUSION OF THE STORY. THE FULL STORY OF GEORGE EVERITT GREEN’S LIFE
AND DEATH IS MENTIONED OFTEN  BY BOOKS AND ARTICLES ON THE HOME CHILDREN (BARNARDO CHILDREN)
NEVER, IN MY EXPERIENCE, HAVE DETAILS OF THIS TRIAL  BEEN USED.


I HAVE EDITED THE TRIAL RECORDS SLIGHTLY.  
George Green

SOME FINAL WITNESSES


MR. MCKINLEY, sworn and examined by Mr. Mackay

Did you know the boy George Green?
Yes
Did you see him when you were sewing grass seed.
I did not see him.
Did you hear him?
Yes.
Doing what?
First he was calling the cows, then he semed to go back to the house and then I heard Miss Findlay scolding
and then I heard blows and the boy crying.
How many blows?
Several…five or six
Followed by what?
Crying
You could not see them?
They were at the other side of the house…fully 80 rods away.
Would the blows necessarily be very severe to enable you to hear them 80 rods away?
They would have been.


Do you remember pulling peas?
We were busy pulling peas and I heard Miss Findlay start to scold and I heard blows again.
Ordinary scolding?
Swearing…and I heard the blows again and the boy crying same as before.
What were the blows on the first occasion like?  Slaps of the fist?  What did they sound like?
Like as if you were chastising a horse with a stick or rope..

  Can you give me another date?

 Well on or about the last of October we were busy digging potatoes and I heard a boy calling
the cattle.  Then the boy did something that displeased Miss Findlay.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        She told him she would knock his damn white head off.
  
About the 30th of october i went to lay up a prop in the line fence and heard the racket start again and
hurried over to see what was going ron,  I heard her punishing  the boy and heard him crying and
I hurried over to where I could see. I seen her coming out of the place where she kept her buggy and
I could hear him crying in there and after a while I heard him begin as if he was splitting  wood, That is
the time I heard the blows and heard him crying,,,then on the 6th of November…
How do you place the date?
I keep a journal
Do you know what you were doing on  6th of November?
Digging potatoes .   I heard Miss Findlay say  “Get up and get in there.”
How far away would you be?
At my  own house—about 80 rods distant and I looked over and I seen her
trailing him up the steps. She had him by the hands and had him on his back.
By both hands and she was dragging him up head foremost.
Yes.

CROSS EXAMINED BY MR. TUCKER

You Never saw her strike him during any of the three occasions,?
A blow that would be heard at 80 rods would be sufficient to fell an ox.
If you hit hard enough I suppose. 
A blow heard 80 rods away would crush anything?

You knew she had a black colt?
Yes
And you knew the black colt was in the habit of  chasing the boy?
No, sir.
Didn’t you ever see it?
No, sir, I seen him holding the horse in the field and never saw it offer to touch him.
If she struck the black colt at that time instead of the boy that would account for the sound?
That would not make the boy cry.
If the colt were chasing the boy he would cry. He was simple in the head?
A little simple perhaps.
And is it not a fact that he had some kind of impediment in his windpipe so he made a noise when he breathed.
I could not say. I didn’t hear the noise when I was talking to him.
You never went to complain to Miss Findlay ? 
NO,sir.

Mr, Mackay seemed to get worried.  Mr. Tucker defended Rose Findlay by creating doubt. 

Was it a horse she hit and not ‘George Green? Was George simple minded?

Did he have a voice impediment?

MR. MACKAY 

How would Miss  Findlay react if you had interfered?
She would have ordered me off the place.
(In fact she did order the McKinley’s off her farm)
Is there anything at all plausible about the theory that the woman struck the black colt?
No, sir.  The Findlays would not strike a colt.

NOTE TO READERS IN 2021:   THERE WERE MANY MORE WITNESSES CALLED TO TESTIFY IN  1895
MOST OF WHOM I HAVE IN MY ORIGINAL MANUSCRIPT.  TOO MANY.  SO LET ME END THIS HORRIFIC
STORY WITH THE TESTIMONIES OF TWO 12 YEAR OLD CHILDREN WHO WORKED FOR MISS FINDLAY
WHILE GEORGE GREEN WAS STILL ALIVE

ALEXANDER GILCHRIST, JUNIOR

Did you know George Green?
yes
Did you ever have any conversation with Miss Findlay as to how she used him?
When she was doing the harvest she told me she got down off her load and gave him two bootings. She also told
me she threatened she would shove the pitch fork through him.
Did you see anything yourself?
No

CONCLUSION:   ONLY READ THIS IF YOU HAVE NERVES OF STEEL

THE EYE WITNESS TESTIMONY OF
MARY BROWN WHO WORKED ON THE FINDLAY FARM THE SUMMER OF 1895

How old are you Mary?
Twelve
Were you there at Miss Findlay’s along until the boy died?
Yes, sir.
Can you tell me how Miss Findlay used the boy while you were there?  What did you see her do?
I saw her kicking him around and I saw her taking an axe handle to him.
How do you mean she used to kick him, was it an easy or hard kick?
Sometimes she used to kick him hard.
Did he ever cry?
Yes
She used to kick him five or six times.
You mentioned an axe handle, where was that used?
We were unloading wood.
I was on the top of the  load with George Green when she struck him with an axe handle on the back.
Just once?
No, she struck him two or three times then she would stop and he would throw a piece of wood down and if he
didn’t throw it in the right place she would strike him again.
Hard? How did she hold the axe handle?
She took it at the bottom of the axe handle and fetched it right down on his back between the shoulders.
How high did she raise it?
Over the shoulder
Did the boy cry?
Yes.
Did she strike him with anything else other an axe handle?
Yes, a pitch fork.
What part of the pitchfork?
With  prongs of the fork.

Where?

Between the shoulders on the back.
How did she hold the fork?
Just by the handle. Two hands, She raised it up and hit him on the back with it.  Hard.
What did he say? Did he refuse to work?
No. He was working only not fast enough for her.
Was he in the habit of giving her impudence or refusing to do what he was told?
No sir. He was quiet. He would never speak unless spoken to.
She was often striking him in the field and threatening to run the fork through him if he didn’t hurry up
Tell me now if you ever saw her strike him with anything else?
She struck him with the broom handle and broke it.
Where was this?
I didn’t see it as I was in the bedroom but she told me se broke the broom over his back.
You heard him yelling…crying?
He just cried hard.

Anything else?   
We were unloading wood and a stick he threw bounced and hit my shoulder . She jumped off the rig
and started pounding him with her fist.  Then she took off her rubber boot and was pounding him with that.
Do you remember an incident around the pump?
Yes    But I was not there. She told me she hit him with her slipper and a naIL cut his head.
You saw his head bleed?
Yes.
Was he crying
Not when I got there but he might have been crying.

Was there any other occasion that you recollect?
Yes, with a table fork. I was outside the door when she struck him with the table fork.  
 There was blood on his cheek when he came out.   The fork was lying there broken.’
I never saw it broke until she struck him.  Blood was running down his cheek when I went in.
She never said anything about it.

You were in his bedroom from time to time throughout the three months you were there?
Yes
Did you ever make George’s bed up?
No sir.
Did you ever know her to make it up?
No sir.
Do you recollect anything being the matter with George before he took sick in bed?  Take
his fingers for instance.
As far as I know his fingers got sore when the first snow came.
It would be a month or so ago
What do you mean by his fingers got sore?
The skin all came off.
From the first joints to the points?
Yes.
What about his nails.?
Well I saw one of his nails come off when we were splitting kindling  wood.


Did you ever see Miss Findlay take him into the house?
I saw Miss Findlay dragging him up the steps a week before he died.
How did she drag him?
Well, I thought she took him by the collar
The week that he was sick…the week he died?

Was there ever a doctor called?
No sir
Who took care of him? What did you ever do for him?   How often did you take water to him to wash
during the time that he was sick?
I never took it unless Miss Findlay did.
Did you ever see Miss Findlay take water up to him while he was sick?
No only the Saturday morning he died.
What did she do that morning or did she do anything?  Was he changed from one room to another?
Yes , she changed his room Saturday morning.
Where did she go that day?
Owen Sound
What time did she get back?
About 9 0’clock
What time did she leave?
About 12 o’clock (noon)

What was the boy doing?
He was moaning…could not speak.

Was that bed made up or changed during the week he was sick?
Not that I saw.  It was dirty all week.
I believe he dirtied it himself?
Yes


Do you know if Miss Findlay supplied him with a crock as a toilet?
One chamber pot broke  Replaced with a pail.  Not emptied.
Can you tell me whether the boy was dead when Miss Findlay got home at nine o’clock Saturday?
Did she go up to see him?
After she got warmed she went upstairs  She said he was was either dead or dying and she didn’t know which. 
Then she went out to tend the cattle then came in again and made herself a cup of tea and went to bed.
Did you sleep with her?
Yes.
Did she get up again that you know of?
No sir
When did she learn that he was dead?
When she went up in the  morning she said he was stiff.
Did you see him”
Yes.
Were his eyes closed?
No
Was his mouth closed?
No.
Both open?
Yes.
You gave evidence at the Coroner’s inquest in Big Bay, didn’t you?
Yes
Did you tell the same story at the inquest you are telling now?
No sir.
You didn’t tell the same story, why?
Miss Findlay scared me.

NOTE:  Fear is the enemy of truth.  Mary Brown, a 12 year old farm labourer spent the summer of 1895 watching
the abuse and terrible death of George Everett Green.   Mary Brown was afraid of Rose Findlay.  They shared the 
same bed. She saw the violence Miss Findlay directed to the boy.  With great courage and no doubt, careful
priming by Mr Mackay, Mary Brown explained why her evidence in Owen Sound contradicted her statement in 
Big Bay.

MARY BROWN

MISS Findlay told me that I was to tell that she didn’t abuse the boy, or didn’t kick him around and them bruises was 
from him falling down.
Were you or were you not afraid of Miss Findlay ?
Yes.
Do you remember when she was arrested, when Mr. Pearce came for her?
Yes, I remember when he came. She told me I was to tell the same thing as I told in Big Bay.

CONCLUSION

I HAVE DECIDED TO END THESE EPISODES ABOUT GEORGE GREEN WITH THE  TESTIMONY
OF MARY BROWN WHO, YOU WILL REMEMBER, WAS ONLY 12 YEARS OLD IN THAT TERRIBLE
SUMMER AND FALL OF 1895.   MUCH MORE COULD BE SAID.  LIKE THE CONDITION OF GEORGE 
GREEN’S BED IN THE WEEK HE DIED.  THE BED WAS ‘IMPROVED’ ONCE BY THE ADDITION 
OF DIRTY STRAW FROM THE STABLE.  GEORGE GREEN’S CLOTHING WAS FILTHY BUT
HE HAD NO OTHER CLOTHES.  THE BODY  OF GEORGE GREEN WAS FOUND CURLED UP
IN A NEST OF DIRTY STRAW . FOULED BY GEORGE AS HE LAY DYING.

THIS TESTIMONY STARTLED MANY CANADIANS AS THE TRIAL PROCEEDINGS WERE  REPORTED
BY NEWSPAPERS ACROSS CANADA.

MARY BROWN’S TESTIMONY IS MUCH LONGER THAN I HAVE QUOTED BUT I THINK
READERS HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS HORROR.

THE JURY COULD NOT AGREE.  A hung jury. THE PREJUDICE AGAINST HOME CHILDREN
WAS SO PREVALENT THAT EVEN THE TERRIBLE TREATMENT OF GEORGE
GREEN COULD NOT PERSUADE SOME JURY MEMBERS TO CONVICT 
ROSE FINDLAY OF MURDER.  

IN A SUBSEQUENT TRIAL SHE SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN CONVICTED OF A LESSER
CHARGE…PERHAPS CHILD ABUSE…AND SENT TO THE MERCER
PRISON FOR WOMEN IN TORONTO…FOR A YEAR.   

alan skeoch
august 2021

PICTURES BELOW ARE NOT FROM THE GEORGE GREEN STORY.  BUT THESE 
PICTURES REINFORCE ELEMENTS OF THE STORY.





















EPISODE 407: “YES , NOLAN, OLD ENGLAND DOES EXIST.”

x


EPISODE 407:  “YES, NOLAN, OLD ENGLAND DOES EXIST!”

I wrote this story to my granddaughter Nolan back in 2018.  A few years before the Pandemic.
 By chance One of my other granddaughters, Morgan, put the story on her Facebook where Marjorie found
it today.   The story is a feel good kind of story we need on these dark days.  It is long and illustrated.
Marjorie wants me to send it out today as Episode 407.

alan skeoch
August 2021


alan skeoch
Dec. 2017
Jan. 2018




This is Nolan Skeoch who has just turned  fifteen.  Without her love  affair with horses  OLD  ENGLAND  would never have  been
found.  She  was the  trigger for the search.  Not because she  was interested in the roads, pubs or folkways. But because  she
owned  the  horses and  the foals for which we were searching.  This story is a birthday  gift to you Nolan.  Of course Your mom 
is deeply involved in your life.  Not to be forgotten for she  found this little bit of Old England.

SIX CANADIANS IN SEARCH OF OLD  ENGLAND

alan skeoch
Dec.  2017
SIX CANADIANS in search for Old England. left to right:  Marjorie Skeoch, Kevin Skeoch, Nolan Skeoch, Morgan Skeoch, Gabriela Skeoch
and below them  Alan Skeoch ending a pint of  Old  England’s best bitter.


Once upon a  time two  months  ago as 2017 wound down and  2018 was about to be born six of us, Canadians,
decided to see if Old England still existed.   We had  criteria.  We had  doubts that Old England existed anymore.

1) Old  England had  to be found within a two  hour  drive of London.
2) Old  England would have ancient roadways … narrow and  deeply incised with towering oaks obscuring the sun.
3) Old England had to have  tiny villages with wood  bedecked bars  and  easy access to ancient ales.
4) Old  England had  to have slate or tile roofed barns with pigeon  roosts  and at least one large guard dog
5) Old England  had to have lots of horses of all ages
6) Old England  had to have rain otherwise the deep green of the countryside could not thrive.
7)  Old  England  had  to have wild creatures co existing with domesticated creatures.
8) Old  England  had to have a sense  of  mystery, even tension.
9) Old England must serve roast beef  with Yorkshire Pudding and trimmings 

So we  drove  westward from Muswell Hill and  Crouch End towards the hills of  Surrey.  We passed  beneath the thundering jetways of Heath Row international airport which raised doubts that Old England could be found.  Not to worry.

 The deeper we got into Surrey the narrower  were the roads and the more mysterious the land appeared as large oak trees spread their branches.  These were the same oaks that were harvested as timbers for the British Navy and the clipper ships that took our kin to Canada long years ago.  \

The road became a time tunnel.  These were medieval roads unchanged save by a skiffle of asphalt. 




This trip was becoming mysterious…magical.   Our very own  time machine.  These  same  roads had been travelled  by Romans long long ago
and centuries later medieval carts  had rumbled along in those long ages when most people lived on tiny farms and never ever saw big cities.



Then we cut through a leafy laneway where an ancient farm was protected by this Rhodesian  Ridgeback, a dog whose breed  reputation was unsavoury  But
this guy was lonely…glad to see us.




Looks like a pigeon apartment building.  Likely is.  There was a time when the gentry enjoyed  a  plate of baby pigeons when fine  dining.  Probably why
they  drank so much  and got that foot disorder called gout.   Subnamed “revenge of the pigeons”  




Now  this  is  really Old England.  Look at the  roof of the barn dead centre…heavy red tiles sloping almost down  to the ground.  Those white doorways  were
once homes  of  small domestic animals…pigs perhaps.  The harvest barn designed for a  team of horses with a wood  wagon  piled high with air dried  hay  or
hand tied sheaves  of grain ready for hand  threshing.  Old England.  Is that Thomas  Hardy peering through the title window on the left?  



The intense  oak doors to the threshing floor are studded with heavy hand  made bolts (nalls>) .  Must be a reason. Escapes me though.  Maybe the doors
were stolen from a moated castle long gone.




A couple of thousand red tiles  artfully arranged on the roof.  Only oak  framing could hold this roof in place.  

Eureka!  The horses!   Gabriela pulled  aside a plank door incised  in a huge pilaff square hay bales.  And there they were.  the foals…Five of  them. Tucked away a modern corrugated iron exercise barn.  Tow belonged to Nolan and Gabriela.

 “Why two? Was one  foal not enough? Why buy a second one?”
“I was afraid  he  would  be lonely.”
‘but there are five here…all this years  foals.”
“I did not know that at the time.”
‘Are they expensive?”
“That tanned coloured one certainly is … worth 30,000 pounds…$50,000 dollars.”
“You paid that for a foal?”
“No mine were very cheap…not everyone wants a foal.”
“What happens to unwanted foals.”
“Let’s not go there, Alan.”
(end of  conversation)  


“Is htis the $50,000 foal…colt is better name  now…getting bigger.”
“Yes, beautiful.  Rare colour…reason for price.”
“Is he  going to bite Marjorie?”
“Don’t you know difference between nuzzling and  biting, Alan. These cols
are all nuzzlers.  They like people.  They think they are people.’
“Believing that is akin to believing in UFO’s, Gabriela.  He is eating Marjorie’s scarf…smells silk worms maybe.  Keep him the hell away from me.””




“This is  our colt.  Knows us and loves us.  From the moment he dripped from his mother we have been with him.
Horses  are smart and  have wonderful memories.  Raise a horse with love and gentleness and he will respond  in kind.”
“When can  Nolan  ride him?”
“That is a slow process…perhaps  a year or more.”
“Then what can  you do now?”
“Hug him.”
“Hug?””
Here give him a hug.”
“Horses do not like me. Sorry, not a hugger.”
“He knows that…see how he looks  at you.”
(end of conversation)





“Alan, tis is George…a Spanish show horse…fully trained…has more dance steps in his  head than Fred  Astaire had in his feet.”
“Why are you spraying him with cold water?”
“Cool him down.”
“Why would  he need cooling?  Is he hot tempered?”
“You can be a  pain, Alan.”
“How can I get out of this barn?  He may bite  or kick me.  Marjorie’s horse tried to kick me one.  Jealous,  I think.”
“Why would  a horse  be jealous of  ou?”
“He had been gelded.  I had  not.”
“Stupid  comment.”
“Is  George a gelding or a stallion?”
‘Go take your pictures…we are busy.”
“But how  can I get by?”
“Sit on a  bail of bedding and pout…but stop your infernal chatter.”
(end  of  conversation)

This is me on George in the exercise ring.  He was trying to throw me off but I had a grip of steel. My knees pressed tight to his ribs. He got quite agitated.
See that white rail fence?  Well, he got up to speed and  took a gallop right at the fence…then flew in the air clearing all  three rails  and  landing on spongy creek
bed just below.  Being an  expert rider I leaned  forward when we cleared the  rails.  Then we splashed our way up a creek doing threes and  jumping boulders.
George knew I  was  boss by then.  Fearlessly we climbed through the pastures  going at a clip so fast that it seemed we were doing the steeplechase at
Epson Downs…with the Queen watching and  Philip cussing.  “Who is that ass  on Georg? Rides like a western cowboy…giving George the Go Go  Go with his  knees in the ribs.  The bastard  might win for God’s sake and  my money is  on another, damn it.”  

Imagination is a wonderful thing.

Really tis is  Kevin exercising George in the show ring.  I was safe cowering behind the fence.

All the horses on this  farm were cared for by a man and a  woman who rented  the barns. They are not
wealth landlords more members  of the horsy set at Epsom Downs.  They live in a small cottage
beside the stables.  Really one big room.  A really comfortable room rich in colour and redolent
with the aroma of horses.  Comfortable.   Nice people.  ’Twas always  thus  in Old England as well.

Then our visit came to an end.  Slight rain fell as  George went back to his  big room with new straw bedding spread and
old straw had been  trundled to the manure pile.  Raising horses is not all riding and  jumping.  Most of the time
Nolan spends with her horses is spent cleaning out the stalls so the  horses live in comfort.  Remember that if
you buy a horse.  You need  to like  the smell of horse  manure.


So, this  part of  our search for Old England ended and we  ‘saddled up’ the Volvo, tightened the reins. hollered “Go” and
ambled  our way out the farm laneway to the tunnel of time below.



Much of  Old England  still exists…if you have the time to ramble around.  It helps to own  a few horses.
But Old England pub dinners…a must.  So we galloped the Volvo to a nearby village with narrow  laneways
and  whitewashed walls.  And  shop’s with quaint names like ‘Mad Jak’…see below.


What about the beef?  Coming below.


Plates piled high with slabs of well done beef slithering in fat accompanied by huge Yorkshire puddings and as many pints of
ale that the police would  allow ( one pint )    Old England lives!



Post Script:  Kevin giving George his exercise.  Seen it before.  But look beyond. Look at the tangle of trees…places where
the wild  animals of England  can coexist with humanity and  domestic  creatures.  That is where a family of badgers lives right now in  2018.
For how long?

THAT FOREST IS ALIVE?  MAYBE NOT!


“Any sign  of wild  animals around  here?”
“Whole bunch of badgers.”

Image result for english badgers

“Badgers? How  do you know?”
“See them sometimes … like when we came back suddenly one day … whole family of them right here at the stable … seemed to be  playing.”
“What happened?”
“They took off fast for the hill …  wooded … lots of badger holes up  there.”
“I thought they were nocturnal.”
“They are…it was  dusk when we saw them last.”
“How many?”
“maybe six or seven…more.”
“I read in the Guarsdian that they are dangerous.”
“Not to us.  Used  tp be dangerous…blamed for spreading  bovine Tuberculosis…whole milk right from the cow’s udder was linked  to TBin humans… milk was pasteurized by force in 1950 …Badgers linked to the spread of  bovine TB…killing cows is  not popular…better to kill badgers.”
“All the badgers?”
“Big cull underway…20,000 to  be killed…kiliing on right now right now…”
“No kidding?”
“Nope a few years ago  the plan was 5,000…farmers  wanted more, conservationists wanted less.  Looks like
the farmers won.”
“Holy  Smoke..how many badgers are there?
“Who  knows for  sure…estimate is 40,000…half of  them  to be killed…gas and snipers.”
“Your badgers?”
“No the cull has not reached  us…ours  are safe for now.”
“No cows around here just lots of horses…and badgers.”
(end  of conversation…beginning of deep thought)

Image result for english badgers

“Sad isn’t it?  No one is even sure  bovine TB is spread  by badgers.”
“They are secretive creatures…mind there  own business.”
“But they do  carry the T.B.”
“You know, our world is  getting more  and more frightening.”
“Do  you still believe Old England  can be found, Alan.”
“Only a tiny fragment…like this horse farm.”
“No room for the natural world  anymore.”
“Natural  world…what do you mean  by that?”
“The world of Old  England where there remained untended forest and moors and  miles and miles  of stone 
fences shielding  all kinds of  life not just badgers…and thousands of  hedgehogs.”
“Room  for all kinds of creatures in Old England.  Not so many people back  then.”
‘Victims  of our  own  success are we not?”
“What do  you mean?”

“IF  ALL THE LIVING CREATURES ON THIS  PLANET WERE PUT ON A PERCENTAGE  GRAPH, DO YOU KNOW
WHAT PER CENT OF WILD ANIMALS REMAIN?”

“No Idea, but lots I assume.”

“Wrong…dead wrong.”

“THREE PER CENT…AND GETTNG SMALLER…a tiny diminishing fraction”

“WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER 97%?”

“30% IS  HUMAN BIOMASS AND  67% IS  DOMESTIC  ANIMAL  BIOMASS.”

“Where did you get that?”

“read it the other day in Scientific American… magazine for  scientists and  people like  us.”

“So  what should  be done about the badgers?”

“Vaccination…some are being  vaccinated…but thousands are being  culled…nasty word “CULL”

“Are scientists sure  badgers  are at fault?”

“Nobody is sure of anything.”

TEST QUESTION”: WHAT PERCENTAGE OF  LIVING THINGS ON EARTH ARE CLASSED AS WILD?

Image result for english badgersImage result for wind in the willows

“I wonder  how Badgers were treated  in  Old England?”

“Not much  better than today.  People  would catch  badgers, put them in cages, then let them go
in the middle of  a bunch  of dogs.  To see who would die first.  Betting money.  Outlawed in 19th century.”

“What about those nice children’s books about Billy the Badger?”

“Just that…children’s stories such as  Wind in the Willows.  Children grow  up which  does not mean they necessarily get better.

Note:  The history of  badgers is fascinating…I  have  barely touched the surface.

alan skeoch
Feb.  2018



EPISODE 407: “YES , NOLAN, OLD ENGLAND DOES EXIST.”

x


EPISODE 407:  “YES, NOLAN, OLD ENGLAND DOES EXIST!”

I wrote this story to my granddaughter Nolan back in 2018.  A few years before the Pandemic.
 By chance One of my other granddaughters, Morgan, put the story on her Facebook where Marjorie found
it today.   The story is a feel good kind of story we need on these dark days.  It is long and illustrated.
Marjorie wants me to send it out today as Episode 407.

alan skeoch
August 2021


alan skeoch
Dec. 2017
Jan. 2018




This is Nolan Skeoch who has just turned  fifteen.  Without her love  affair with horses  OLD  ENGLAND  would never have  been
found.  She  was the  trigger for the search.  Not because she  was interested in the roads, pubs or folkways. But because  she
owned  the  horses and  the foals for which we were searching.  This story is a birthday  gift to you Nolan.  Of course Your mom 
is deeply involved in your life.  Not to be forgotten for she  found this little bit of Old England.

SIX CANADIANS IN SEARCH OF OLD  ENGLAND

alan skeoch
Dec.  2017
SIX CANADIANS in search for Old England. left to right:  Marjorie Skeoch, Kevin Skeoch, Nolan Skeoch, Morgan Skeoch, Gabriela Skeoch
and below them  Alan Skeoch ending a pint of  Old  England’s best bitter.


Once upon a  time two  months  ago as 2017 wound down and  2018 was about to be born six of us, Canadians,
decided to see if Old England still existed.   We had  criteria.  We had  doubts that Old England existed anymore.

1) Old  England had  to be found within a two  hour  drive of London.
2) Old  England would have ancient roadways … narrow and  deeply incised with towering oaks obscuring the sun.
3) Old England had to have  tiny villages with wood  bedecked bars  and  easy access to ancient ales.
4) Old  England had  to have slate or tile roofed barns with pigeon  roosts  and at least one large guard dog
5) Old England  had to have lots of horses of all ages
6) Old England  had to have rain otherwise the deep green of the countryside could not thrive.
7)  Old  England  had  to have wild creatures co existing with domesticated creatures.
8) Old  England  had to have a sense  of  mystery, even tension.
9) Old England must serve roast beef  with Yorkshire Pudding and trimmings 

So we  drove  westward from Muswell Hill and  Crouch End towards the hills of  Surrey.  We passed  beneath the thundering jetways of Heath Row international airport which raised doubts that Old England could be found.  Not to worry.

 The deeper we got into Surrey the narrower  were the roads and the more mysterious the land appeared as large oak trees spread their branches.  These were the same oaks that were harvested as timbers for the British Navy and the clipper ships that took our kin to Canada long years ago.  \

The road became a time tunnel.  These were medieval roads unchanged save by a skiffle of asphalt. 




This trip was becoming mysterious…magical.   Our very own  time machine.  These  same  roads had been travelled  by Romans long long ago
and centuries later medieval carts  had rumbled along in those long ages when most people lived on tiny farms and never ever saw big cities.



Then we cut through a leafy laneway where an ancient farm was protected by this Rhodesian  Ridgeback, a dog whose breed  reputation was unsavoury  But
this guy was lonely…glad to see us.




Looks like a pigeon apartment building.  Likely is.  There was a time when the gentry enjoyed  a  plate of baby pigeons when fine  dining.  Probably why
they  drank so much  and got that foot disorder called gout.   Subnamed “revenge of the pigeons”  




Now  this  is  really Old England.  Look at the  roof of the barn dead centre…heavy red tiles sloping almost down  to the ground.  Those white doorways  were
once homes  of  small domestic animals…pigs perhaps.  The harvest barn designed for a  team of horses with a wood  wagon  piled high with air dried  hay  or
hand tied sheaves  of grain ready for hand  threshing.  Old England.  Is that Thomas  Hardy peering through the title window on the left?  



The intense  oak doors to the threshing floor are studded with heavy hand  made bolts (nalls>) .  Must be a reason. Escapes me though.  Maybe the doors
were stolen from a moated castle long gone.




A couple of thousand red tiles  artfully arranged on the roof.  Only oak  framing could hold this roof in place.  

Eureka!  The horses!   Gabriela pulled  aside a plank door incised  in a huge pilaff square hay bales.  And there they were.  the foals…Five of  them. Tucked away a modern corrugated iron exercise barn.  Tow belonged to Nolan and Gabriela.

 “Why two? Was one  foal not enough? Why buy a second one?”
“I was afraid  he  would  be lonely.”
‘but there are five here…all this years  foals.”
“I did not know that at the time.”
‘Are they expensive?”
“That tanned coloured one certainly is … worth 30,000 pounds…$50,000 dollars.”
“You paid that for a foal?”
“No mine were very cheap…not everyone wants a foal.”
“What happens to unwanted foals.”
“Let’s not go there, Alan.”
(end of  conversation)  


“Is htis the $50,000 foal…colt is better name  now…getting bigger.”
“Yes, beautiful.  Rare colour…reason for price.”
“Is he  going to bite Marjorie?”
“Don’t you know difference between nuzzling and  biting, Alan. These cols
are all nuzzlers.  They like people.  They think they are people.’
“Believing that is akin to believing in UFO’s, Gabriela.  He is eating Marjorie’s scarf…smells silk worms maybe.  Keep him the hell away from me.””




“This is  our colt.  Knows us and loves us.  From the moment he dripped from his mother we have been with him.
Horses  are smart and  have wonderful memories.  Raise a horse with love and gentleness and he will respond  in kind.”
“When can  Nolan  ride him?”
“That is a slow process…perhaps  a year or more.”
“Then what can  you do now?”
“Hug him.”
“Hug?””
Here give him a hug.”
“Horses do not like me. Sorry, not a hugger.”
“He knows that…see how he looks  at you.”
(end of conversation)





“Alan, tis is George…a Spanish show horse…fully trained…has more dance steps in his  head than Fred  Astaire had in his feet.”
“Why are you spraying him with cold water?”
“Cool him down.”
“Why would  he need cooling?  Is he hot tempered?”
“You can be a  pain, Alan.”
“How can I get out of this barn?  He may bite  or kick me.  Marjorie’s horse tried to kick me one.  Jealous,  I think.”
“Why would  a horse  be jealous of  ou?”
“He had been gelded.  I had  not.”
“Stupid  comment.”
“Is  George a gelding or a stallion?”
‘Go take your pictures…we are busy.”
“But how  can I get by?”
“Sit on a  bail of bedding and pout…but stop your infernal chatter.”
(end  of  conversation)

This is me on George in the exercise ring.  He was trying to throw me off but I had a grip of steel. My knees pressed tight to his ribs. He got quite agitated.
See that white rail fence?  Well, he got up to speed and  took a gallop right at the fence…then flew in the air clearing all  three rails  and  landing on spongy creek
bed just below.  Being an  expert rider I leaned  forward when we cleared the  rails.  Then we splashed our way up a creek doing threes and  jumping boulders.
George knew I  was  boss by then.  Fearlessly we climbed through the pastures  going at a clip so fast that it seemed we were doing the steeplechase at
Epson Downs…with the Queen watching and  Philip cussing.  “Who is that ass  on Georg? Rides like a western cowboy…giving George the Go Go  Go with his  knees in the ribs.  The bastard  might win for God’s sake and  my money is  on another, damn it.”  

Imagination is a wonderful thing.

Really tis is  Kevin exercising George in the show ring.  I was safe cowering behind the fence.

All the horses on this  farm were cared for by a man and a  woman who rented  the barns. They are not
wealth landlords more members  of the horsy set at Epsom Downs.  They live in a small cottage
beside the stables.  Really one big room.  A really comfortable room rich in colour and redolent
with the aroma of horses.  Comfortable.   Nice people.  ’Twas always  thus  in Old England as well.

Then our visit came to an end.  Slight rain fell as  George went back to his  big room with new straw bedding spread and
old straw had been  trundled to the manure pile.  Raising horses is not all riding and  jumping.  Most of the time
Nolan spends with her horses is spent cleaning out the stalls so the  horses live in comfort.  Remember that if
you buy a horse.  You need  to like  the smell of horse  manure.


So, this  part of  our search for Old England ended and we  ‘saddled up’ the Volvo, tightened the reins. hollered “Go” and
ambled  our way out the farm laneway to the tunnel of time below.



Much of  Old England  still exists…if you have the time to ramble around.  It helps to own  a few horses.
But Old England pub dinners…a must.  So we galloped the Volvo to a nearby village with narrow  laneways
and  whitewashed walls.  And  shop’s with quaint names like ‘Mad Jak’…see below.


What about the beef?  Coming below.


Plates piled high with slabs of well done beef slithering in fat accompanied by huge Yorkshire puddings and as many pints of
ale that the police would  allow ( one pint )    Old England lives!



Post Script:  Kevin giving George his exercise.  Seen it before.  But look beyond. Look at the tangle of trees…places where
the wild  animals of England  can coexist with humanity and  domestic  creatures.  That is where a family of badgers lives right now in  2018.
For how long?

THAT FOREST IS ALIVE?  MAYBE NOT!


“Any sign  of wild  animals around  here?”
“Whole bunch of badgers.”

Image result for english badgers

“Badgers? How  do you know?”
“See them sometimes … like when we came back suddenly one day … whole family of them right here at the stable … seemed to be  playing.”
“What happened?”
“They took off fast for the hill …  wooded … lots of badger holes up  there.”
“I thought they were nocturnal.”
“They are…it was  dusk when we saw them last.”
“How many?”
“maybe six or seven…more.”
“I read in the Guarsdian that they are dangerous.”
“Not to us.  Used  tp be dangerous…blamed for spreading  bovine Tuberculosis…whole milk right from the cow’s udder was linked  to TBin humans… milk was pasteurized by force in 1950 …Badgers linked to the spread of  bovine TB…killing cows is  not popular…better to kill badgers.”
“All the badgers?”
“Big cull underway…20,000 to  be killed…kiliing on right now right now…”
“No kidding?”
“Nope a few years ago  the plan was 5,000…farmers  wanted more, conservationists wanted less.  Looks like
the farmers won.”
“Holy  Smoke..how many badgers are there?
“Who  knows for  sure…estimate is 40,000…half of  them  to be killed…gas and snipers.”
“Your badgers?”
“No the cull has not reached  us…ours  are safe for now.”
“No cows around here just lots of horses…and badgers.”
(end  of conversation…beginning of deep thought)

Image result for english badgers

“Sad isn’t it?  No one is even sure  bovine TB is spread  by badgers.”
“They are secretive creatures…mind there  own business.”
“But they do  carry the T.B.”
“You know, our world is  getting more  and more frightening.”
“Do  you still believe Old England  can be found, Alan.”
“Only a tiny fragment…like this horse farm.”
“No room for the natural world  anymore.”
“Natural  world…what do you mean  by that?”
“The world of Old  England where there remained untended forest and moors and  miles and miles  of stone 
fences shielding  all kinds of  life not just badgers…and thousands of  hedgehogs.”
“Room  for all kinds of creatures in Old England.  Not so many people back  then.”
‘Victims  of our  own  success are we not?”
“What do  you mean?”

“IF  ALL THE LIVING CREATURES ON THIS  PLANET WERE PUT ON A PERCENTAGE  GRAPH, DO YOU KNOW
WHAT PER CENT OF WILD ANIMALS REMAIN?”

“No Idea, but lots I assume.”

“Wrong…dead wrong.”

“THREE PER CENT…AND GETTNG SMALLER…a tiny diminishing fraction”

“WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER 97%?”

“30% IS  HUMAN BIOMASS AND  67% IS  DOMESTIC  ANIMAL  BIOMASS.”

“Where did you get that?”

“read it the other day in Scientific American… magazine for  scientists and  people like  us.”

“So  what should  be done about the badgers?”

“Vaccination…some are being  vaccinated…but thousands are being  culled…nasty word “CULL”

“Are scientists sure  badgers  are at fault?”

“Nobody is sure of anything.”

TEST QUESTION”: WHAT PERCENTAGE OF  LIVING THINGS ON EARTH ARE CLASSED AS WILD?

Image result for english badgersImage result for wind in the willows

“I wonder  how Badgers were treated  in  Old England?”

“Not much  better than today.  People  would catch  badgers, put them in cages, then let them go
in the middle of  a bunch  of dogs.  To see who would die first.  Betting money.  Outlawed in 19th century.”

“What about those nice children’s books about Billy the Badger?”

“Just that…children’s stories such as  Wind in the Willows.  Children grow  up which  does not mean they necessarily get better.

Note:  The history of  badgers is fascinating…I  have  barely touched the surface.

alan skeoch
Feb.  2018



EPISODE 405: Zinnias…f

EPISODE 405    ZINNIAS


alan skeoch
August 2021


We bought these Zinnias when they were babies…they have paid for themselves 10 times over.

They outshine all others including the fake plant made from Mowing Machine fingers.



Enjoy them while you can.   Why?   Because the conclusion of the George Green tragedy is coming.



EPISODE 405 RESCUING A 15′ ROWBOAT

EPISODE 405  RESCUING A  15′ ROWBOAT

alan skeoch
august 2021

Michael V sent a truckload of things  to the farm a couple of weeks ago.  Most that ad seen better days.
Then the nose of a rowboatwas shoved  out.   Rowboats are key objects in maritime movie sets.  Hard to
find.  Who wants their prize rowboat potentially bashed in a movie set?   So this rowboat looked
interesting.  What was it doing on a load of scrap iron?  Scrap!

“came out of a fire, Alan…big patch of the frame is charred black.”
“Let me put the belt sander to it.”

Afer sanding my arms were black with charcoal but the boat looked a lot better
So I gave the boat a good bath with soap and water.  Found a few places where the fire
had burned holes which I patched with plastic wood.  Then I asked for advice from
friends…penetrating oil or Latex house paint.   I choose he latter.\

” Take a look at
the boat today.”
“Will it float?”
“No…but it sure looks like a good prop for Hemingway’s Old Man and the Sea.”
“Or The Ancient Mariner”
“Or Cannery Row”
“Or Dunkirk evacuation”
“Or our farm yard.”