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  • Fwd: episode 476 WHY WOULD ANYONE BE INTERESTED ON OTHER PEOPLES PETS? TWO REASONS…TARANGA AND TARA

    NOTE:  EARLIER VERSION GOT OUT BEFORE CORRECTED…WRONG PUPPIES (THEY BELONGED TO DAISY)

    CORRECT PUPPIES ARE BELOW.  



    On Sat, Nov 20, 2021 at 2:23 PM ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com> wrote:
    EPISODE 476    WHY SHOULD ANYONE BE INTERESTED IN OTHER PEOPLE’S PETS?   TWO REASONS…TARANGA AND TARA


    alan skeoch
    Nov. 2021


    Look closely….centre of the wintry scene is (was) our cat Taranga.  She was more like a dog than a cat because she loved
    to follow us whenever she could … even in deep snow.  Why should you care about our pet cat? Many of you who read these episodes
    probably do care because you have a cat or a dog…or a duck or kangaroo….or a guppy;  Most people have pets that they love.  Names?
    Naming pets makes them very personal.  We named Taranga after a mountain in New Zealand where Marjorie, Andrew and I nearly got
    swept out to sea on a fast incoming tide.  She was named after an adventure.




    WE  have always had pets around our house.  As close as the breath we breathed. So it is with a lot
    of people.  When the Mississauga Train disaster happened and the prospect of chlorine gas flowing
    down upon us happened we loaded the car.  First in went  the pets, then the kids and I suppose later
    the spare underwear.


    Now here is a closeup picture of Taranga.  Like pin-up movie stars, Taranga knew she was pretty.   She also could climb trees….roll over…purr…and get attention
    from people passing  by.   W do not know how or why she died. Andrew found her body down by Mary Fix Creek.

    My brother and I had lots of cats as pets.  Marjorie had rabbits and dogs.
    When we got married we were given a cat by Faye Nichols.  She named her “Presque Neige” because she was white with just
    a dusting of gray on her head.   We kept the name even though we had re=naming rights.   “Presque Neige” was a rather loose
    lady and got herself knocked up if I might use that crude but clear term.  When she reached term she knew things were not going
    right and one night she got into bed with us…between us….and began the birthing process.  But the kittens
    were  not coming out like water mellons in the summertime (poor image).  So “pressure” asked Marjorie to 
    pull the first one out as it seemed to be stuck.  Marjorie became a midwife that night.

    Years later, when we bought our home, we got our first dog.  “Tara” was name chosen… after the southern estate in Gone With the Wind. 
    She was a great dong. A hunting dog who never got the chance to hunt.  She did not resent the fact that we do not worship
    guns and settled right in.  There were times when the wind blew in sudden gusts that she picked up the smell of raccoons
    and looped down the back field.  But she always came back almost immediately.  We got Tara when  Marjorie got pregnant by some strange process and as her stomach
    expanded she got the notion that if we were going to have children we damn well better get a dog.  Did I say dog!  Slip of the tongue.
    Marjorie located a coonhound stud..a couple of them really.  In one year Tara had a load of puppies..  I tried to feince in  the first litter by
    building a wall around their corner of our lot.  It was a failure.  Coonhound pups climbed walls just like TAranga climbed apple trees.
    Our pups were loved by our two boys.  There were so many little creatures on our lot that year that the Mississauga News sent out
    a reporter and photographer.   Tara became famous for her 15 minutes…just like all of us.  

    Next problem was finding homes for all these pups.   Marjorie put up a sign. “Coonhound pups need good homes”
    The term ‘good home’ had a special meaning to Marjorie. A lot of men came around lured by the coonhounds.
    Marjorie asked them a simple question …

    ”Do you hunt?”
    “Yes…just love hunting season…would be even better with a coonhound”  
    “Sorrry, no pups to hunters.”
    “Why not?  Coonhounds are hunting dogs….hounds!”
    “Never sure dogs will be cared for…we had an abandoned hound
    arrive at the farm once…alone..no owner.    And another hound was
    chained up most of the year near our farm.”

    So all of Tara’s pups went to what Marjorie thought were good homes.
    All except for one which we named Shadow.   We kept him.  Lovely dog who
    was just too obedient and also prone to wander.  One day he wandered away 
    following a scent.   Not far.  When called he turned and began to run back to us.
    A car hit him…killed him. We were devastated as was his mother, Tara.




    This is Tara.  She is taking a moment to think about something.  Perhaps to worry about her pups.




    Tara is up the hill with her nose picking up information that none of us can detect.  Pete, mom and dad’s dog, is watching me
    while everyone else if tinkering with my 1953 model of a W6 Internaionals.  Note the fine plowing job.









    I think Marjorie is carrying Tara’s pup Shadow in this picture.   If he had lived we would have had lots of coonhounds.  I remember one

    of the hunters asking if Tara had a good tongue.   Odd term.  Ar least I thought  the term odd until Tara smelled a raccoon.  Then she hollered

    like a kid in an echo chamber…great whoops.





    What is our coonhound thinking here at a campground somewhere in Canada?




  • episode 476 WHY WOULD ANYONE BE INTERESTED ON OTHER PEOPLES PETS? TWO REASONS…TARANGA AND TARA

    EPISODE 476    WHY SHOULD ANYONE BE INTERESTED IN OTHER PEOPLE’S PETS?   TWO REASONS…TARANGA AND TARA


    alan skeoch
    Nov. 2021


    Look closely….centre of the wintry scene is (was) our cat Taranga.  She was more like a dog than a cat because she loved
    to follow us whenever she could … even in deep snow.  Why should you care about our pet cat? Many of you who read these episodes
    probably do care because you have a cat or a dog…or a duck or kangaroo….or a guppy;  Most people have pets that they love.  Names?
    Naming pets makes them very personal.  We named Taranga after a mountain in New Zealand where Marjorie, Andrew and I nearly got
    swept out to sea on a fast incoming tide.  She was named after an adventure.




    WE  have always had pets around our house.  As close as the breath we breathed. So it is with a lot
    of people.  When the Mississauga Train disaster happened and the prospect of chlorine gas flowing
    down upon us happened we loaded the car.  First in went  the pets, then the kids and I suppose later
    the spare underwear.


    Now here is a closeup picture of Taranga.  Like pin-up movie stars, Taranga knew she was pretty.   She also could climb trees….roll over…purr…and get attention
    from people passing  by.   W do not know how or why she died. Andrew found her body down by Mary Fix Creek.

    My brother and I had lots of cats as pets.  Marjorie had rabbits and dogs.
    When we got married we were given a cat by Faye Nichols.  She named her “Presque Neige” because she was white with just
    a dusting of gray on her head.   We kept the name even though we had re=naming rights.   “Presque Neige” was a rather loose
    lady and got herself knocked up if I might use that crude but clear term.  When she reached term she knew things were not going
    right and one night she got into bed with us…between us….and began the birthing process.  But the kittens
    were  not coming out like water mellons in the summertime (poor image).  So “pressure” asked Marjorie to 
    pull the first one out as it seemed to be stuck.  Marjorie became a midwife that night.

    Years later, when we bought our home, we got our first dog.  “Tara” was name chosen… after the southern estate in Gone With the Wind. 
    She was a great dong. A hunting dog who never got the chance to hunt.  She did not resent the fact that we do not worship
    guns and settled right in.  There were times when the wind blew in sudden gusts that she picked up the smell of raccoons
    and looped down the back field.  But she always came back almost immediately.  We got Tara when  Marjorie got pregnant by some strange process and as her stomach
    expanded she got the notion that if we were going to have children we damn well better get a dog.  Did I say dog!  Slip of the tongue.
    Marjorie located a coonhound stud..a couple of them really.  In one year Tara had a load of puppies..  I tried to feince in  the first litter by
    building a wall around their corner of our lot.  It was a failure.  Coonhound pups climbed walls just like TAranga climbed apple trees.
    Our pups were loved by our two boys.  There were so many little creatures on our lot that year that the Mississauga News sent out
    a reporter and photographer.   Tara became famous for her 15 minutes…just like all of us.  

    Next problem was finding homes for all these pups.   Marjorie put up a sign. “Coonhound pups need good homes”
    The term ‘good home’ had a special meaning to Marjorie. A lot of men came around lured by the coonhounds.
    Marjorie asked them a simple question …

    ”Do you hunt?”
    “Yes…just love hunting season…would be even better with a coonhound”  
    “Sorrry, no pups to hunters.”
    “Why not?  Coonhounds are hunting dogs….hounds!”
    “Never sure dogs will be cared for…we had an abandoned hound
    arrive at the farm once…alone..no owner.    And another hound was
    chained up most of the year near our farm.”

    So all of Tara’s pups went to what Marjorie thought were good homes.
    All except for one which we named Shadow.   We kept him.  Lovely dog who
    was just too obedient and also prone to wander.  One day he wandered away 
    following a scent.  Not far.  When called he turned and began to run back to us.
    A car hit him…killed him. We were devastated as was his mother, Tara.




    This is Tara.  She is taking a moment to think about something.  Perhaps to worry about her pups.




    Tara is up the hill with her nose picking up information that none of us can detect.  Pete, mom and dad’s dog, is watching me
    while everyone else if tinkering with my 1953 model of a W6 Internaionals.  Note the fine plowing job.











  • EPISODE 475 WHAT WAS WANTED FOR A MOVIE ABOUT VAMPIRES

    EPISODE 475    WHAT WAS WANTED FOR A MOVIE ABOUT VAMPIRES?


    alan skeoch
    Nov. 2021

    “Pull down your mask, J.R….just for this photo.”


    “How about some hanging plants like field corn, wheat in bundles, dried cabbages?”
    “Sorry, Alam, vampires do not eat field corn but I like those old gourds.  The light people
    can make them look spooky…but vampires do not eat gourds.”
    “What do they eat?”
    “We need spooky things…and you have many …”
    “But, J.R. what do vampires eat?””
    “Let’s not spoil this beautiful day…drop the subject.”
    “Yuck…I just remembered what vampires eat…yuck!

    “My job is to makethe movie set spooky…the filming will happen at dusk in a barn…we need shadowy stuff.”




    I  forgot to show JR the hanging tobacco….but “vampires don’t smoke”


  • EPISODE 467 IRISH STORIES AGAIN: THE COW IN THE ADIT AND MEMORY OF JOHN FLEMING AND BARNEY DWAN

    EPISODE467    IRISH STORIES…THE COW IN THE ADIT…AND MEMORIES OF JOHN FLEMING AND ANDY DWAN


    alan skeoch
    oct. 2021


    RUMOUURS…FOLK TALES….WERE OFTEN BASED ON FACT AS WE PROVED

    JUST found a picture I took of the Mystery Adit we excavated in Bunmahon in 1960,
    I have told the story earlier but must tell it again if only for Aden Coffey.  The location of this excavation was
    north of the main mine shaft, near the home of Rina Casey I believe.

    While doing the surface geophysical survey with the Turam we picked up a strong
    anomaly some distance inland from Knockmahon.  By pure chance a story was told by
    one of our employees about a local farmer who, around 1900, had lost a cow in an adit that he closed with
     landfill surmounted that was now covered by a patch of Gorse.

    “The old adit is right under your anomaly.”  said Barney Dwan as he told the story of the lost cow.
    “Maybe we could open the adit and see if what we found with the Turam.” I retold the story to Dr. Stam.
    “Good idea.  Let’s hire a man to see if the adit even exists.  Won’t cost much…just give
    him a pick, shovel, axe and wheelbarrow.”
    “Barney, can we pin point the exact location of the adit?”
    “The story had been told over and over…I think the adit is under that patch of
    gorse in the little valley below us. (I think the Irish term was ‘boreen’ meaning “little valley’/

    So we set the man at work. All alone.  After a couple of days digging
    his pick or shovel penetrated the old adit which had been filled with
    water over the decades. Water under pressure.  Once opened, the water blasted
    out in a gush.  That happened So suddenly that the excavator had to run or be engulfed.  Some said
    he was terrified.  We had discounted the story…did not expect to succeed.  But the story was true, an
    adit was there.   What about the cow?
    So much  water escaped that we had to wait a day or so before entering
    the place.

    Guess what we found?

    Right…there was the skeleton of the cow about a hundred feet from the entrance. Maybe her
    hips got stuck in the narrow passage.  A  terrible death.  Or maybe her body had been hauled into
    the adit already dead.  A grave. 

    What really attracted geologist John Hogan and geophysicist Dr. John Stam were the
    stains on the walls.  




    Ireland made such a deep and lasting impression on me that my 3 months there seem like
    only yesterday…but the adventure happened in 1960…61 years ago.   And there seems
    to be no end to the memories  which I believe have universal appeal.  Hope so anyway.





    You have met Barney Dwan before.  He was my main man.  Always had a grin on his face and told
    me stories that were sometimes true and sometimes outlandish.  we had a great time together.
    I wish I could have paid him more money…a pound a day was cheap…but I tried to spread
    the money over as many men as I could.   All had roles that were necessary.


    Bones and bodies of dead animals were often found…especially at bottom of cliff faces.




    In places the adit walls were shored with old timbers … crooked timbers.

     
    And there she is..the cow…




    These stains had meaning to John Hogan.  I had no idea what they were except proof of mineralization.


    This patch is proof of the presence of copper.


    SHORT NOTE ABOUT ONE MAN IN PARTICULAR

    I Think his name was John Fleming.  His name came to me last night.  Seems my brain was going in to overdrive to find the name.
    He is the older man with hands on his hips while posing on a very narrow bridge
    across the Mahon River.   John was much older than others and regarded as a leader.  A very dignified and friendly
    man who kept out staking crew going even when the weather was terrible.  As a matter of fact he even tried to continue
    staking after nightfall in a storm.   Working by compass and flashlight was impossible but somehow John kept the line
    straight.  

    His home was on a small plot of  land where he grew a big garden and was able to keep a few animals…one of which
    was a horse as I remember.  Every square inch of his 1 acre (!) lot was in use.  I think he had both children and grand children
    …seem to remember that but it was a long time ago.  I do know that all the men respected John and asked advice of him.


    Barney is carrying John Fleming on his back as we criss crossed the Mahon River.

    This was our trenching crew who dug down to bed rock once I detected a conductor with
    the Turam.  We called these high readings ‘anomalies’ because we had no firm idea why
    the readings blipped.   


    Pigs were very curious.  They could also be dangerous…especially the boars.


    The job of trenching was dangerous the deeper the trench got as seen here.  If the soil loosened and collapsed how would this
    man escape?  Thankfully, WE had no accidents.  Today there would be safety rules such as shoring of the walls.


    Our job attracted widespread interest. The Waterford newspaper even sent a reporter and photographer to do an interview
    which appeared on the front page.  I have tried to get a copy…seems to be available but have hand no response.
    (Note to Aden Coffey: perhaps you can get a reprint from the Waterford newspaper. It is available)


    “Do you need help?” asked this sow
    “Sure…keep digging.”
    “Grunt…grunt…grunt.”
    “Is there any truth to the story I was told by Barney about your friends?”
    “What story?”
    “Barney says a nun disappeared while taking a short cut through your field.  All
    that was found of her was a shoe with her foot in it.  Could that be true?”
    “Just watch your step, Alan, truth is sometimes stretched a bit but you never 
    can tell.”
    “Grunt…grunt…grunt.”
  • EPISODE 474 OUR FIRST POST PANDEMIC FARM SALE.. NOV. 13, 2021 sale for late John Smith

    EPISODE 474     OUR FIRST POST PANDEMIC FARM SALE, Nov. 14,2021 (sale for late John Smith)


    alan skeoch
    Nov. 15, 2021




    Winter weather on  the way but today was crisp and brilliant as Andrew and I 
    motored north to our first post pandemic farm sale.

    “Live auction sale for the estate of the late john Smith. Emergency #938198 Dufferin County road 18…Airport Road north of  Terra Nova”
    Bob Severn,auctioneer”

    “Mom didn’t want to come, Dad?”
    “No….And I have an idea for her Christmas present this year.”
    “What?”
    “Wait and see.”


    “Well, Dad, what interests you now we got here?””
    “I think  the David Brown tractor…British made..not many around.””
    “Don’t see it here”
    “Must be out behind the barn.”


    “Can’t go there right now…Bob Severn is getting revved up.”


    “Let’s take a look in the stable…”
    “Old style…wood stanchions and looks like this
    was a small mixed animal operation….chickens, pigs and a couple of cows.”




    “And sure as god made little green apples, here is the David Brown tractor.”
    “Seems to need some work.””
    “Keep a list…start with a pair of big back tires and smaller front tires…then maybe
    a new engine.”
    “One thing not needed….guess what that is?”
    “This David Brown tractor does not need a new paint job.”
    “Great paint!”


    “Andrew, let’s get it.””
    “Are you nuts, Dad?”
    “You already know the answer to that.”


    “What did you buy, Andrew?””
    “This welding table and two heavy jacks…paint brushes, nails, blow torch…I bought a complete corner
    of the workshop….more than we can load.”
    “What about the David Brown tractor.?
    “Sorry, dad, no space on the truck.”
    “Now, that is a real shame…I was considering the tractor as my Christmas present
    to Marjorie.”
    “Didn’t you give mom a International Tractor for her birthday a few years ago?”
    “I did…ran well for couple of years.”
    “And this year you gave her a John Deere riding mower.”
    “I did.   She will not let me drive it.  Says I will just put it through the weeds in search
    of rocks and lumps of hidden cast iron.”
    “Let’s hit the road…”


    “This is John Smith’s sister, Joan, and family friend.  She was one of the smartest persons at the auction”
    “Why?”
    “There were more than 100 people at the auction…I only saw three Covid masks.  Joan wore one of them.”
    “let’s hope this virus madness will end soon.”
    “There are still some clouds on the horizon, Andrew.”