Alan Skeoch

Year: 2021

  • EPISODE 486 PETS; DAISY AND SONNY…’THERE IS A TIDE…WHICH TAKEN AT FLOOD”

    Noe:  It is so nice to know that many readers are remembering their pets with joy and sadness.
    Keep the joy on the high tide.


    EPISODE 486     PETS;   DAISY AND SONNY…


    Alan skeoch
    Dec. 2021



    SONNY AND DAISY


    THERE IS A TIDE…WHICH TAKEN AT FLOOD

    Remember that line from Shakespeare where Brutus speaks

    “There is a tide in the affais of men,
    Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;
    Omitted, all the voyage of their life
    Is bound in shallows and miseries,
    On such a full sea are we afloat,
    And we must take the current when it serves,
    Or lose our ventures.”
        (William Shakespeare ‘Julius Caesar;

    Some  fragments of Shakespeare  got locked in my mind.  And this is one of them.
    The meaning I made of the tide reference went far beyond the trials of Brutus..
    T o me the meaning was as clear as sunshine. There is a tide in our lives…moments
    of optimism, adventure, excitement,   Moments that only come on special occasions.
    Moments that disappear like the waves of the sea. Moments that must be grabbed
    or they will be lost forever.

    Our family life with Daisy and her son ’Sonny’ were days of that full tide.   Just how full
    I never realized until we talked about it…Marjorie and I…today.  We realized how
    lucky we were to have summer holidays, two children, a used van and second hand pop
    up trailer those special summers when the ’tide’ was very full. You  will see three dogs
    because we adopted poor little Maxie from a retiring farmer who planned to shoot him after
    the farm auction.  Like  SAM the cat, MAXIE lived with us for short spell.  But those days…those
    years…were full tide years for SONNY  and  DAISY.





    \SONNY AND DAISY on a raft in our farm pond (swamp)





    WE Decided to take the boys and dogs across Canada on two successive summers
    First we headed to Newfoundland.  Our target was L’anse aux Meadows where the
    Vikings landed a thousand years ago. To get there we bought a pop- up trailer which
    slept 7…4 humans, 3 dogs,

    Both DAISY AND SONNY spotted something strange on the east coast waters when
    a huge pod of little capelin fish beached themselves rather than be eaten by
    the whales waiting in deeper water.







    Sonny liked fast food milk shakes.



     copy taken from John Steinbeck’s ‘Grapes of Wrath’ … He pictured farm families fleeing
    the poverty stricken farms of the 1930’s.   We were not that desperate.


    Daisy must be off exploring…see Sonny and Maxie







    We found a bunch of slightly damaged lobster traps and carried them to a small
    fishing village. “No, we don’t want them…we get  government grants for lost gear.”


    Back home we gathered a gang of kids, five bikes, and two dogs
    for a race to the farm.  These were wonderful days caught when
    the tide was high. 


    Enough?   More than enough some readers must be feeling.
    And some readers might feel that SAM THE CAT was neglected as
    I only seem to have the picture of him on top of the refrigerator .
    Well…I found another pic of SAM (below)


  • EPISODE 485: WALKING ON EGG SHELLS (the state of teaching today)




    EPISODE  485   WALKING ON EGG SHELLS  (THE state of teaching today)


    alan skeoch
    Dec. 3, 2021


    Teaching today is like walking on egg shells.  A slight slip.  An innocent well meant slip can ruin a career. Today I was
    Surprised and pleased to receive a note from Jean Graham whose Grandson Logan found this story on the internet. It was written 25 years ago when I was head

    of history at Parkdale Collegiate Institute.  I made a mistake with an envelope that could have ended my career.
    Thankfully, Ron Graham, was our vice principal.  As I said, teaching today is like walking on eggshells. READ ON;.


    Alan Skeoch, about 25 years ago…conducting a Jane Jacobs walk into history


    The hall was empty…or nearly so.  I was late for class.  A boy came around the corner.  My oh my, did he look forlorn.  Teachers notice these things.  Body language…facial expression…shuffling…troubled.  That kind of thing.

     
    “Things can’t be all that bad, son.  Cheer up.” 
     
    And I tapped him on the shoulder with an envelope I was carrying.
    No reaction.  Just a blank, maybe slightly hostile stare.  Maybe even a bit of a surprised look since we did not know each other.  No time for much more dialogue.  I was paid to teach and the class was waiting.
     
    Sounds like a non event.  Wish that were so.
     
    Ron Graham, our Vice Principal and a good friend, came to see me right after the class.
     
    “Boy, I saved your ass, Al!  Took the whole period to do so.”
    “What?”  I thought Ron had a joke in mind for his comment made no sense.
    “I spent the last 45 minutes cooling Larry down.”
    “Who is Larry?”
    “Didn’t think you knew him because he certainly did not know you. He burst into my office claiming you hit him in the hall.  Wanted to know your name so he could report you to the super-intendant.  Perhaps even the police.”
    “Get off it Ron.  Who is Larry?”
    “You may not know him now but you would certainly have known him
    if he had laid the charge.  Assault.”
    “Ron, I don’t know what you’re talking about.  Some kind of joke?”
    “Nope.  Serious, Al.  Really serious.”
    “Who is Larry?”
    “Larry is a new kid here.  Troubled kid.  Unhappy home life.  I guess you would call him a loner.  He does not trust teachers or the world in general for that matter.”
    “What has that got to do with me?  Don’t know the kid.”
    “OK.  Did you meet a kid in the hall before class?”
    “OH, that kid!  Yes, met him…seemed depressed.  Tried to cheer him up.”
    “Did you hit him?”
    “Come on, Ron.  Do you think I’m stupid? I tapped him good naturedly with an envelope.  This envelope. ” (The envelope was an invitation to speak to a University Women’s club about teaching if you can imagine.)
    “So you did touch him.”
    “Hardly  a touch, Ron.”
    “Enough for him.  He did not know you.  Thought you had no right to even speak to him.”
    “Get off it, Ron.”
    “Any witnesses?”
    “No, we were alone in the hall.”  Now I was getting worried.  Alone in the hall meant it was my word against this student, this person called Larry.  That spelled trouble.  Teachers walk on egg shells, especially male teachers. 
    “So what did he say?”
    “He said some weird teacher with  a brush cut and a blue suit jacket hit him in the hall near Room 225, your room…your haircut…your jacket.
    And your hand it seems.”
    “So?”
    “So, suppose Larry laid a charge with the super-intendant and it got down to the Toronto School Board.  First thing that would happen is you would be hauled out of class…told to leave the school and not return until the case was investigated.  Many people would believe you are guilty of assault.  You even admitted touching Larry with that envelope.  Touching and assault can become synonyms.  So you would be out of her on your ass.  Doesn’t matter that you have taught here for twenty years and have a great reputation.”
    “Do you mean I would be considered Guilty until proven innocent.”
    “Right.  OSSTF would provide a lawyer.  The case could take a year or so and all that time you’d sitting at home.  People would wonder why. Some would assume you are guilty.  Even when the case was rejected, as it would be, you would have that stigma forever.”
    “You’re scaring me, Ron.”
    “Don’t worry, I got you off.”
    “How?”
    “I asked Larry to sit down so we could have a chat…to cool him down.”
    “And?”
    “Larry,” I said, “Mr. Skeoch and I come from different generation. From friendlier times.  We try to treat people in a friendly manner.  We have different values you might say.  Your hat, for instance.  In my time, students removed their hats in the presence of teachers.  Larry then took off his baseball cap so I knew I was getting through to him.  Larry, I continued, I think you are making a mistake. Mr. Skeoch has never hit 
    a student in my time.  And he has never sent a student to me for discipline reasons.  Never.  I went on and on.  Made you sound like a prince of the church. Finally asked Larry if he would consider withdrawing the charge.  And he did.  Saved your bacon, Al.  You owe me big time.”
    “Phew!”
    “By the way, I have enrolled Larry in your Grade 12 history class for  next semester,” said Ron with a mischievous grin.
     
    Larry turned out to be a really nice student.  He got to like me.  Greeted me in the hall often.  He became cheerful.  Not sure whether he punched me on the shoulder saying “Morning, sir!”.  I like to think that happened.   I also wondered what could have happened had Larry not withdrawn the charge.  I really did owe Ron Graham  a beer.
     

    I taught at Parkdale Collegiatte Institute for 31years.  Never missed a day for sick leave.  Loved the job.  But this incident was never far from my mind which is a sad thing to say.  Walking on egg shells….trying to teach at the same time.  How much social distancing is necessary?  At what point does the distance become so great  that the

    joy of teaching ceases?


    alan skeoch (circa 1995)
     








  • EPISODE 484 PETS: SAM ARRIVED…COLDEST NIGHT OF THE YEAR

    EPISODE  484      PETS:   SAM ARRIVED…COLDEST NIGHT OF THE YEAR



    alan skeoch
    DEC 2, 2021




    There exists a population of feral animals almost cheek to jowl with those Humans call pets.
    One bitterly cold January day SAM arrived at our kitchen window.  He was a stray cat. Perhaps
    at one time he was someone’s pet that nobody wanted.  Outside in a bitter cold snap, Sam
    realized his only hope was to get inside someone’s house. Why he chose place I do not know.

    Marjorie opened the back door and in He bounded.

    “What will we do with him?”
    “He is unlikely to  get adopted at the Humane Society…he is
    too old.”
    “Maybe he wants to live with us…at least until the weather changes.”
    “Do you think he will get along with the dogs?”
    (We had two Labradors)
    “Let’s just see how he works out.”

    SAM…ON TOP OF THE REFRIGERATOR

    Sam settled right in. Stayed with us for a time then died at the farm where
    he is buried in our pet graveyard on the old barn hill where Marjorie has
    planted hyacinths.

    We only have  one picture of Sam…rather unusual.

  • EPISODE 473 PETS: DAISY AND THE TSREADMILL

    EPISODE 473   DAISY AND THE TREADMILL

    alan skeoch
    De. 2, 2021

    Daisy was one of the greatest animals we ever had.  When she died people cried all over Canada.  One man even
    sent a note saying he had to pull over on The Trans Canada Highway because of his tears.  Not many dogs get
    national attention like she did.   You wonder how that happened. right?   Well the story is a bit on the long side but 
    here goes.




    DAISY…THE DOG WHO LOVED THE TREADMILL

    The idea of having a dog running a treadmill never occurred to me.   I bought the treadmill as an artefact.
    As I cleaned and repaired it, our Labrador dog Daisy kept hanging around.  Nosing around.  So I started
    a conversation with her.

    “Daisy, did you know that dogs life you once ran this treadmill?”
    (Swear she knew what i was saying.}
    “A dog would be led up the back while the brake was on…the  treadmill would be hooked to
    a fanning mill or some other farm implement.”
    (Daisy looked deep into my eyes…and listened.)
    “Do you want to give it a try, Daisy?”
    (I swear she nodded…stood at the back  of the treadmill.)
    “Hop on, then.”
    (And she did.  Honestly, that was all the training she had. Zero…)
    “Holy Samoley, Daisy, have you done this before?”
    (She looked at me  almost saying in the silence…”How could I , you got me as a little pup.”)
    “Let’s see what happens when I take off the brake after hooking the handle of a fanning mill to the treadmill…
    just give a minute or  two.  There,all hooked up.  Are you ready?
    (Daisy wagged her tail….I know you won’t believe that but she did.)
    “Ready? 
    (And I released the brake…the treads began to turn as Daisy set her paws up and down.
    And everything worked …the fanning mill was ready to clean grain using dog power…the 
    old machine rattled and the graim sifter shook.  And Daisy wagged her tail looking
    right into my eyes.   Who will believe me?)


    Daisy as a little pup.



    Daisy on the dog treadmill…all ready to go.


    See Daisy sitting on the ground at Sherwood Hume’s Family Farm Festival years ago.
    The treadmill is hooked to a small fanning mill.   All that Daisy needed was an
    audience…perhaps some applause.

    THEN I MADE A BIG MISTAKE…WISH I HAD BEHAVED BETTER
    (“A fine example of a dog owner”…I say that sarcastically)

    We did many shows with Daisy but the best and the worst was at the Hume
    farm.  You have already read the best  Now for the worst. You will not think
    well of me after reading but you will still admire Daisy.  Here goes…

    We had a big crowd around Daisy as the treadmill revolved and the grain screens
    shook.  Admirers all.  Even, I suppose, the woman with the grim face admired
    Daisy.   But she sure did not like me.
    “How could you treat a dog like that? It’s brutal.”
    “Never thought of that.”
    “How long will she have to do that?  Abuse!”
    “I let her work until she drops…” (Wish I had not said that…but the words just blurted out.”
    “You abuse her like that until she drops….”
    “Yep.  And when that happens I go to the dog catcher or Humane Society and get another dog.”
    “Well….we’ll see about that. I’m going to get the police.”
    And away she went.

    Daisy was still turning the machine.  Her tail was still wagging.   Strange that the
    woman did not notice.   The crowd hooted….applauded  either the well intentioned woman
    or my smart assed comment.  It did not really matter.  This was showmanship at its
    best.  

    Did the police come?  No.  We had a group of volunteers, mostly women, who blocked
    the  front of the farm that day lest we had unwanted visitors.  Some men were drinking
    beer which posed a far more serious situation than Daisy’s work on the treadmill.  We did
    not have a liquor licence which would have led to big time trouble.  We wished the beer
    drinkers knew that.  They were like me…well intentioned but stupid.




    Daisy





    THE DAY DAISY DIED

    AT the time we had Daisy I was a small time journalist and broadcaster on CBC radio.
    Not big time.  My radio slot was around 5 to 10 minutes. Usually my stories were received
    locally in Southern Ontario.  But sometimes they went out to a wider Canadian audience.

    “Would a story about our dog Daisy be OK this week?”
    “Why Daisy?”
    “She died this week.  Dog lovers know how that hurts.”
    “OK”

    So  I wrote a radio script about Daisy.  It’s still around our house somewhere
    as is a tape of the broadcast.   I tied Daisy to our daily life.  “Daisy was more like
    a person than a dog.  Marjorie’s farm relative would have said ’she were the  knowingest
    dog that ever there was.  (musical words She loved us.  She was there as the boys
    grew up.  And we loved her back…took her wherever we went.  She knew as many swimming
    holes in Ontario as we did.  One year we parked Daisy and her big pup Sidney on an island
    in Lake of the Woods  while we took a canoe bound for another island a few miles distant where
    there were blueberries and maybe a bear or two.   We were way out in the open water when one
    the boys looked behind us.  Spotted two black dots in the Water.

    “Mom, look back there…I think Daisy and Sidney are following us/“

    So we turned around and got both Daisy and  Sidney into the canoe.  With
    difficulty.   I say this so you  would understand just how close Daisy was
    to our family.  She did not want to stay behind.

    Daisy died yesterday. We will miss her.

    My story was much longer.  While telling the story I noticed the studio was
    empty.  Usually my producer or radio host or technician were present.  Not that day.
    I was all alone.  Where were they?   Crying in the sound booth behind my back.
    I was crying as well.  My voice broke a couple of times.  Tears do not come easily
    for me but they sure did the day that Daisy died.

    I often think of Daisy.  And the image of  that radio listener on the Trans Canada Highway
    comes to mind as he slipped to the gravel shoulder to wipe his tears.  Any person who cannot 
    love a dog seems slightly less than human.  I mean a dog like Daisy.

    alan skeoch
    dec. 2,2021



  • EPISODE 471 A WINTER DAY BEST FORGOTTEN, NOV. 30, 2021 ‘THE BOB CAT WILL NOT START”

    EPISODE  471     A WINTER DAY BEST FORGOTTEN,  NOV. 30, 2021  “THE BOB CAT WILL NOT START”


    alan skeoch
    nov. 30 2021


    VAZZZZZOOM!  SHAWN GOT THE BOB CAT STARTED…SAVE US ALL


    Overcast sky and snow flying with the wind.  A good day to stay in bed…but there was work to do.
    Too much work to do. I wonder if I can record the day in pictures?



    “All quiet here on the farm…snow on the ground…more snow in the air.”
    “I think I’ll go down to the other place…got a load from Movie coming back.”
    “Lunch at noon.”


    “All hell turning loose down here.”
    “I need the bob cat to get a load of machines to the barn”
    “Not so fast…bob cat won’t go….wet gasoline maybe….damp and cold here which
    is not good for electric starters.”
    “I’ve got a five ton truck at the road with machines to get off, “ 
    “Well look at what we are facing…


    -8 to 10 double axle dump trucks with garden soil…
    -a prefab swimming pool to load and get to West Toronto…
    -a broken down Case bob cat
    to load and get to a mechanic.”
    ”
    “Try that Gas treatment…a fluid ….often works…”
    “VAZZZZOOM…VAZZZOOM.”
    “We are back in business….what comes first?”
    “The guys at the road with the big drill press…”

    And so the work began…continued until the sky got really dark.

    alan