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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
Posted on

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


Posted on

EPISODE 139 TWO STARTLING EVENTS OF 2020…COVID 19 AND THIS JOHN DEERE DINOSAUR OF THE FARM FIELD

EPISDOE 139    TWO STARTLING EVENTS OF 2020….COVID 19  AND  JOHN DEERE DINOSAUR


Alan skeoch
Oct. 2020

In  February 2020 would you have believed a Pandemic was about to change the world
so completely.  Air travel which we took for granted is now a thing of the past for most of us.
And who would believe that it was necessary to wear a face mask wherever we go.  

Just as unbelievable are the changes  in agriculture.  Who could possibly afford to buy
and  operate a tractor and cultivator so big that it spans two traffic  lanes.  More 
startling is the fact that this machine now cultivates thousands of acres of farm land
removing small farmers from the market … driving them into cities for work
while their land is rented to these corporate elephants.

The one sure thing in life is ‘Change’, as I have one to believe.

AUTUMN LEAVES:  They are wonderful this fall.  I am so glad you enjoy them.  
More to come.

alan

P.S.  Brad, can you tell me how much this  tractor costs?



Posted on

EPISODE 139 PUTTING THE BEES TO SLEEP FOR THE WINTER

EPISODE 139    PUTTNG THE BEES TO SLEEP FOR THE WINTER


alan  skeoch
Oct. 12,2020

Andrew’s bees need  tender loving  care at this time of year.  They
are getting  ready  for a  long sleep and their home needs  to be
winterize and a surplus food supply of sugar and  water needs to
be available.


Late fall colours  are holding just so the bees can remember how glorious their nectar collecting days have been.
Once Andrew gets them sealed  of for the winter they may peak out occasionally … at their peril


Andrew has decided to let the bees keep their honey this year.  New Bees…new home…new country.

“Tate this Dad”  … he scooped spoonful of honey with his bee knife.
“Terrific…can i have another shot?”

At that moment a bee stung poor Norman on the ass.  He took off like a bat out of
hell for home.   The honey tasting was  forgotten.




Posted on

EPISODE 138 HAY LOADER AND BILL BROOKS MAY 2018 and Angus McEchern



Begin forwarded message:


From: SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>
Subject: Fwd: HAY LOADER AND BILL BROOKS MAY 2018 and Angus McEchern
Date: May 30, 2018 at 9:33:59 PM EDT
To: Alan Skeoch <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>




Begin forwarded message:


  EPISODE 138 



THE HAY LOADER…INVENTED1895….REPAIRED AMD MADE FUNCTIONAL 2018

alan skeoch
Oct. 2020


 Setting:July Day, sunny day, beautiful day…year 1950, age 12

“Well, boys, today we have work to do.  Hop on the wagon with a hay fork, each  of  you.”
“Where are we going, Angus?”
“Loading hay…cured perfectly by the sun…”Make hay  while the sun shines,” and old saying…true saying”
“Anything special we should know?”
“Nothing.  Just don’t stab each other or fall off the wagon as the load builds  up.”
“How can we fork hay from the field  if we are on the hay wagon?”
“No  need to do that.   See that machine in the hay  field.  Called a hay  loader.  it does most
of the tough work after it gets hitched to the back  of the wagon. “
“What do  we do?”
“You will soon see.  There all hitched.  I will drive down the windrows with the tractor.  Don’t look
at me or you will be smothered in hay.”

And  away we went.  Hay came off the ground  with wire tines…moved  up the elevator and dumped
on us  with a steady  stream.  We forked as fast as  we could…piling the loose hay as  neat as possible
but it just kept coming and we began to stand higher and higher until Angus stopped and unhitched
the hay loader.  Then we rode the load to the barn.  Angus  McEchern  knew how much hay he
would need to feed the cattle and  horses over the winter.  He still kept a team  of  horses for old
times sake.  He loved is animals more than money.The new hay  smelled  like the finest after shave lotion that dad  used or perfume.
Timothy hay  with clover interspersed.

Once unloaded in the mow, we headed back to the field  and rehitched the loader  starting the
job all over again.  We were as dry as  popcorn farts by the third load so Angus  had a special
surprise.

“I’m going to get close to the fence row.  Park your forks and  get your hands ready.  Chokecherries
…grab a few fistsful.  You  might like the taste.  Spit out the stones.”

Chokecherries are an acquired taste.  Awful at first.  Makes the mouth pucker up.   Dry as an empty
dipper.   Then they begin to taste good.  Angus swung by the chokecherry bushes several  times.
We grabbed and  gobbled…and  spit out the cherry stones.  “You  boys should pick a basket of
the cherries  for your mom…make terrific jam.  Do that after we get the hay in the barn.”  And so  
the day went by.  Hay just kept coming from the gaping top mouth of the hay loader. Kept coming
and  we kept forking.

That was one grand  day.  Never forgotten.  Just the one day…only a few hours really.  But
the day  got lodged in my brain forever.

Decades later…perhaps 40 years later or longer…I bought that hay loader after Angus  died.
And  hauled  it to our farm where it stood by the cedar grove for another 20 years or so.…
 festooned with bittersweet vines helped along by two
poplar trees growing through it.  A shame.  So this  year, spring 2020, we cleared  the vines and
ousted the trees  by t heir roots.  The result?  Look below.


The Hay Loader was invented in 1895 as a labour saving machine that would pick up hay that had  been dried by the sun and
deliver the hay to a couple of men or women standing on  a  hay wagon pulled by a team of horses or a tractor.   What labour
is  saved?    Tossing cured  hay onto a  hay  wagon meant working against gravity.  Tiring.   A hay loader worked with gravity
by dumping the cured hay directly on to the wagon and therefore farmers just had to catch the stream  of hay and place forks  full
neatly on the wagon bed.  A lot more hay could be loaded with a lot less effort.
 
More of the story to come…as told and shown by Bill Brooks…below.









That is not the end of the story….Back in 2018, Bill Brooks called me up.


“HAY LOADER REBORN AND READY  TO GO.”

alan skeoch
May 2018

“Well,  young fellow,  you should see  what I’ve just rebuilt”
“Must be something ancient, Bill.”
‘Drop by the  shop today if you can.”


Bill Brooks and  his  wife Leah own a machine shop not far from our farm.  Bill loves  old machines…more than he

loves profits.  He had just restored a hay loader that had been snapped  up by  a Mennonite family north of Kitchener.
Before he delivered the hay loader he wanted me to see it.   I was  flattered.




This is  Angus  McEchern with one of his pet Hereford steers.  That story is coming next

if I can get the time.



alan skeoch
Oct. 12, 2020
Posted on

EPISODE 138 THANKSGIVING…PUMPKIN PIE TIME

EPISODE 138     THANKSGIVING…PUMPKING PIE TIME


alan skeoch
Oct. 10, 2020

Thanksgiving this year is like no other in all our lives.  Covid 19 takes the joy … the smile…and
hides it behind a mask.  The trees … the swamp … the sky …all  seem to know that the season
of change is upon us.

Cheer up…Marjorie has made two PUMPKIN pies… which  we thought would  be eaten in
isolation then Andy and Jack  drove in the lane and everything changed. The trees got
a little brighter.  The pumpkin pie a little sweeter.  Even Woody got a taste as he
waited patiently to lick the dishes.

But most of my readers  do not know Andy and Jack.  So here is
a challenge for you.  Enjoy the colours for sure.  But see if you
can identify the machines.  What is the job they did  on 19th century
farms.

These machines  of the past were once the pride and joy of young farm 
families…




“Alan, I do not like this Covid 19.  It is ruining thanksgiving.  We usually have all kinds of  people
up here…with a 150 pound turkey (or thereabouts)…to day there is just you, me and Woody.

“MARJORIE, Look closely at Woody .  He senses someone he knows is coming.  Look at his posture.
We will not be alone, Marjorie.   But please do not tell  whoever Woody senses that you have
made a pumpkin pie.   I want the whole damn thing.”

“Oh, Alan…it’s Andy and  Jack  “

“Do not tell me they look hungry….”




WILD GRAPES ARE READY.  SMALL AND SWEET.  CANADIAN…ONTARIO… WILD  GRAPE ROOT STOCKS RESCUED THE ENTIRE
FRENCH WINE INDUSTRY WHEN A BLIGHT HIT THEIR ROOT STOCKS.   NOT MANY PEOPLE KNOW THAT.

THERE ARE VERY FEW SILOS MADE FROM FIELD STONES.   I HAVE ONLY SEEN TWO OFTHEM AND THIS IS MY FAVOURITE BUILT
LONG AGO, AROUND1873 BY ANGUS  MCLEAN AND HIS SISTERS JEAN AND  JANET.   OUR SON ANDREW IS GOING TO RESCUE
IT.  REPAIR.  ANGUS MCLEAN ONCE HAD A  BLACKSMITH SHOP RIGHT WHERE THAT BIG MAPLE STANDS.  

ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION OR ARE YOU THINKING OF PUMPKIN PIE?
THIS  IS OUR BIGGEST POND…NOW ALMOST BONE DRY DUE TO THE HOT SUMMER.  LUCKY WE EXCAVATED A DEEP
SPOT FOR THE SNAPPING TURTLE TO HIDE FOR THE WINTER… 

My brother and I actually worked with this machine.  Same one.  it belonged to Angus  McEchern.  I bought it for a few dollars
just for the memories


PAUL CARON, a friend  of ours, carefully crawled  close to this  turtle with his camera.  He got a great picture then
discovered the turtle was made of cement.  I bet it fooled you as well.

For those of you who have failed  my identification test…THIS  IS A  HORSE DRAWN HAY TEDDER…ONNCE UPON A TIME
IT FLUFFED  UP NEW MOWN HAY SO THE HAY WOULD DRY FAST AND KEEP ITS NUTRIENTS.  THERE ARE NOT MANY OF
THESE MACHINES  AROUND TODAY.  I HAVE TWO OF THEM.  THIS ONE HAD TWO TREES GROWING THROUGH IT. ANDY
AND HIS CHAIN SAW LIBERATED IT.  


You may wonder why I am not cutting the grass.  Not helping.  The answer is simple
and  brilliant.  Marjorie does  not think I do a  good job.  Which is  true.  Avoiding that kind of 
work is a  skill I have honed.

alan skeoch
Oct. 10, 2020