Alan Skeoch

Year: 2019

  • best of breed: SEQUJEL TO THE AMISH SCHOOL AUCTION: july 20,2019

    AMISH SCHOOL  FUND AUCTION

    JULY 20, 2019  MILVERTON, ONTARIO

    BIG TIN BOOT WAS BEST OF’BREED’

    Just for fun look at these pictures  with a sharp eye.  Look for what you think is
    the best of breed…i.e. what you would want in your living room.

    Lighten up!


    Now this is just my opinion but if I  was  asked to choose the best of  breed in this 
    auction I think the big tin cowboy boot would fill the bill.  it sold  for around $200
    to a man of course.  I tried to catch up to him to get a picture but he was moving
    as fast a Clint Eastwood in a shoot em up movie.  Maybe he was embarrassed.


    Then I could be wrong.  This huge ‘man trap’ must have been used to trap bears long ago
    when farmers were clearing the land.  These traps  are illegal I am told.  Bidding was
    feverish.   I think a Democrat from the US House of Representative was the winning
    bidder.  He hustled south.  No, I have no idea why he wanted the trap.   Fun to guess though.


    THIRTY YEARS AGO we were  buying these dinosaurs of the harvest….thrashing  machines.  We even had a Lobsinger like this one.  Sadly the tarpaulin
    we used to cover it from rain,  sleet and  snow was not up to the job.  Water slipped in and the wood rotted.   Eventually we hd to set it on  fire but there is
    an upside to the story as a local farmer borrowed our Lobsinger for one last harvest.   That made us feel a little better.  Since then we have shrunk our tastes
    to fanning mills, turnip pulpier, corn shellers, apple pulpers and  cutting boxes.


    Hats tell a story.  The woman in black  is not Amish or Mennonite.  The boys clearly are.   The hats tell the one from the other.


    This is my friend  Tom Schell whis is  an avid collector of hay carts…the kind that ran on track high up
    in most Ontario barns.  They were used in the days when horses drew  wagons loaded with cured  hay
    right into the barn threshing floors.  Then a massive hay force was dropped like a twin harpoon into
    the hay load and by a  series of  ropes  and pulleys and hay cars  the loose hay was piled in hay mows.
    Tom has done that….

    Now Tom was also a collector  of fanning mills  which, when he downsized his tastes, he delivered the mills
    to our farm.

    Tom is a contented man.  Witness the smile.

     the Amish farms are neat and orderly….neat as a pin might be  the term although I don’t know the origin 
    of the term.  How can a  pin be neat?


    These pin up girl posters were a little out of place at the auction….too much leg showing.








    We bought this elevated  water tough.   Single board  construction.  Tight as a drum.  
    Of course it could also have been a feed bin.


    alan skeoch
    July 20, 2019


  • JACK IS A LAID BACK KIND OF GRANDSON: YOU BOUGHT WHAT?

    YOU BOUGHT WHAT?

    (JACK is a laid back kind of person)

    alan skeoch
    July 20, 2019

    My grandmother regularly,  in the 1950’s, sent me poems by Edna Jacques that she
    carefully cut out of the Toronto Star in spite of her advanced Parkisons’s
    disease.   Today, july 20, 2019, I thought of her and was reminded of a snippet
    from one of those poems

    “If you put your nose to the grindstone rough
    And hold it down there long enough
    In time you’ll say there’s no such thing
    as tails that wage or birds that sing.”

    (I imposed the ‘tails that wag’ as I forget what Edna wrote but
    the meaning is the same”

    The reminder came from Jackson Skeoch, our grandson, who is  best described
    by the expression ‘laid back’ but also he is unpredictable at times.  Today was 
    one of those occasions.

    Andrew, Jack and I were attending the massive Amish School Auction sale near Milverton,
    Ontario.   Piles and piles of things.  Long lines of items  laid out on a recently threshed  grain
    field.   Thousands of people.


    “Jack, look at all the horses and buggies….”






    “Seems everyone is out for a good time, Jack.”




    “Lots of people here grandpa…all after the same kind of ancient junk you like so much.”

    “Take a really close look, Jack…there is more going on here than just the auction…more
    than the bidding wars for hay ladders, crocks, wagon wheels, roosters, horses, picks and shovels.”

    “What else?”

    “Look around…you will see.”

    So Jack disappeared while Andrew and I were bidding and buying wood water trough, 
    fireman’s reeled  hose cart from the 19th century, ancient anchors rescued from the
    bottom of the St Lawrence river, barrels, pumps, a boat, boxes of plumbing fittings…etc.”

    “Where is jack?”

    “No idea.”



    “I hope he notices those Amish girls…there is a reason they are all dressed up
    in their brightest dresses.  This is a meeting ground.”

    “Jack will notice.  He’s seventeen with a keen eye.”




    “Where have you been jack?”

    “Over with the rabbits…bought four of them.”

    “You bought four rabbits?”

    “Yep,  waved  my hand at a fly and the guy yelled  ‘Sold’…no cage…cost
    me $12.  Nearly had a box full of pigeons as well. What can we put them in?”


    “Did you say no cage?”

    “Yep, what can we put them in…you must have something grandpa…how about
    that $2 chicken crate?”

    “Jack you make me laugh…all the time…maybe you can wheel one of my purchases…wicker
    baby carriage and two old  saddles to the truck.  I will give you the cage.”

    “Sure.”

    “Did you notice the girls?”

    “What girls?”

    (He made that comment with the usual twinkle in his eye.  He saw them…and they
    must have seen him.  Both sexes were dressed to be seen.)





    “Grandma, there are four rabbits in this crate…see the shining eye of one?”



    “Jack, you bought four rabbits?”  said Marjorie with hooping  laughter.

    “Dad had to wait hours to get those cages.  Cost more than the rabbits.”

    “Males or females?”

    “How would I know, Grandma.”  And Marjorie proceeded  to determine the
    sex of the rabbits…a very tricky thing to do…three males and one female…enough for a brood to come
    along.

    “What will Julie think when you get home with these rabbits.”

    “Remains to be seen, Grandma….they will be company for the dogs.”




    “Got them with the swat of fly, Grandma.”

    alan skeoch
    July 20, 2019


  • COYOTES ARE HERE TO STAY


    COYOTES ARE HERE TO STAY

    alan skeoch
    july 2019

    “Marjorie, the coyote is  here…right behind  you.”

    “How do you know?”
    “Saw him dance down the street as if he was Prince Harry”
    “When?”
    “Right now, 8.15 a.m. on July 16…Glenburnie Road, Mississauga…got a picture
    quick…here he is…”



    “Woody was barking his head off just behind my ear as we looked out the truck window.”
    “What was  the coyote doing?”
    “Eating what was  left of a dead squirrel that a car squashed.”
    “Did  he hear Woody?”
    “Sure…but did not give a damn.”
    “Where did he go?”
    “Ducked into the Lack place…(next door to us)…he was about 10 feet from
    you as you came out our lane.”
    “I think he knows me…loves me or hates  me.”
    “Where did  you get that crazy, off the wall, idea?”



    “Alan, do you  know what happened earlier this morning…while you were asleep?”
    “Nope.”
    “Well there was  quite a fuss on the street.  A man came jogging down Glenburnie with two full
    grown Labradors…and right behind them came the coyote…almost at their heels.”
    “A  coyote could  not pull  down a  Labrador.”
    Alan, you were not there.  The man was scared…running.  He stopped to throw
    two rocks at the coyote but the stones  did not phase the coyote one bit. He loped
    along right behind them.”
    “What did  you do?”
    “I got in the truck and tried to put it between the coyote and the man.  The coyote
    just circled the truck which drove Woody wild.  Barking like there is no tomorrow.”
    Woody  probably remembers the coyote that tore a strip off his ass.”

    “Don’t make light of it Alan.  The lady next door said  three coyotes  surrounded her
    when she took the baby for a walk.”
    “The only coyote I have seen lately was the cute animal sleeping in the tangle of
    weeds at the back of our lot.”
    “He sleeps  there all day long…drives Woody mad…Lucky that half our lot is fenced.”
    “No matter what you say Marjorie, I like the coyotes…beautiful animals…great dancers…
    intelligent …survivors.”
    “”Alan, they are predators.”


    “Predators…Shmeditors…they are fascinating.  And they were here before we were here.   They have
    a right of residency.”
    “Dr. Hawrluk (local  dentist) opened his  front door yesterday and a coyote was standing there.”
    “Maybe the coyote had a toothache.”
    “Don’t be silly…”
    “Coyotes do not have dental plans…rely on charity…but they have good teeth
    normally…gnawing on squirrels, rabbits, raccoons and, if they are lucky, wayward cats…the 
    gnawing keeps their teeth in good  shape.”
    “Alan, stop that drivel…this is serious business.”
    “Sorry.  Just trying to make the point that coyotes have become part of our 
    urban landscape.”


    “They move so fast…so delicatlely.   Look at the pictures I took…almost seem like mirages…like there
    was no coyote present…just blurred images.”

    (Marjorie, talking to Woody our dog, as she often does)_
    “Alan would not say that Woody if that coyote tore a strip off his bum, would he?”

    “Woody cannot speak our language Marjorie.”

    “His tail is wagging…he agrees with me.”

    “Woody can spot a coyote before we can…maybe the smell.”

    “He does  not love those creatures  as you seem to do…proving
    he has  a higher level of intelligence than you, Alan.”

    “Probably true…”

    alan skeoch
    July 2019

  • FIRST SUNDAY IN JULY: OUR LIFE IS FULL OF LEAVES…ETC. JULY 6, 2019

    AHH! THE FIRST SUNDAY IN JULY.

    (Of all the Sundays of the year…52 of them…the first Sunday in July is the most dazzling to Marjorie and me.)

    alan  skeoch
    July 7, 2019

    So let’s make a  game of it.  SEE IF YOU CAN FIND

    1) Our farm attic  gothic window with stained glass and top hat boxes.  (easy…first p;icture0
    2) Our front lawn in Toronto
    3) Our big swam with water lilies
    4) Our new crop of flax
    5) Our other family farm with stone silo
    6) Our wilderness trails
    7) Our trip through Limehouse…cross RR bridge, up escarpment road
    8) Our peculiar collection of shapes stuffed in the old green house
    9) Our living room in the old  Freeman farm house
    10) Our effort to grow milk weed for the Monarch butterflies
    11) Our days of glory on the football field … yes, both Marjorie and i …she was
    an SPS cheerleader but no picture
    12) Our stuffed porcupine (on a beam, high above the guy in plaid shirt)
    13) Our walnut trees
    14) Our water trough vegetable gardens
    15) Our favourite game on a board made by hand
    16)Our  version of “The Tangled Garden”
    17) Our almost forgotten International W6 tractor
    18) Our abandoned  threshing machine hidden on a tree clad hill
    (once belonged to Angus McEchern on farm next to ours)
    19)  Our fanning mill, our pump organ, our wood wheeled wagon
    20) Our recently refurbished cream separator
    21) Our poppies that appeared without our knowledge but are welcome
    22) Our gravel clad bridge between the two big ponds
    23) Our old  three furrow drag plough 
    24) Ourselves
    25) Our old farmhouse beside our ancient walnut tree

    IF YOU CANNOT BE BOTHERED…THEN JUST FLIP THROUGH THE PICS…THEY ARE RELAXING.

    alan and marjorie









  • RAVENS…ARE VERY SMART THEN WHY ARE THEY NOT HOUSEBROKEN? JULY 5, 2019


    IF  RAVENS  ARE SO SMART…THEN WHY ARE THEY NOT HOUSEBROKEN?

    alan  skeoch
    July 5, 2019

    A pair of ravens have assumed they have the right to raise their young in our barn.   This year they chose
    a portion high above our prop storage shed.  The nest is  huge, maybe 3 feet in diameter made of sticks  
    so large it is a wonder the ravens could lift and weave them into a nest.

    They are smart birds.  They know who we are … recognize our faces …and make raucous greeting sounds
    when we have the nerve to peek into the drive shed  which they have claimed as theirs.

    I wish they did not feed their young  baby birds plundered and  murdered from other birds but we, as humans,
    do the same.  Seems that chicken has become a main course for all of us.

    But the ravens are a problem.   How do I put this delicately?


    Notice how perfectly they keep their feathered bodies.  Very neat.  Like tuxedo class of humans.  Right

    But they are not perfect.


    “Listen, bud,” quoth the raven, “Mind your own business.  We live here now.”

    “Well, Mr. and  Mrs. Raven, your chosen home could do  with a toilet.  Instead you have used
    all my prize rental goods as if it was a place to slather with your excrement.”


    The farm is  quite pretty…complete with a hand made field stone silo dating back to 1870



    Yet look what the ravens have done….


    Could be worse, I guess, as the Ravens could have chosen the farm house for their summer home.


    This has become their rearing shed…sadly.


    Seems they also use their own nest as a toilet.


    Now I must face the clean up…Yuck!