Month: December 2021

EPISODE 487     WE’LL MEET AGAIN…SOME SUNNY DAY

alan skeoch

Dec. 17, 2021

                                I mean it…we will meet again.   

                               Yesterday All that sun did was cast dark shadows’’’skeletal tree shadows.  No joy there.

                      KEEP SMILING THROUGH LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO

 

                       SO WILL YOU, PLEASE, SAY HELLO TO THE FOLKS THAT I KNOW

When Vera Lynn sang this song…so many times…tears ran down the faces

of the toughest soldiers facing the invasion of Europe in 1944.  Men who knew

they might never see those blue skies that would DRIVE THE DARK CLOUDS FAR AWAY.

Our situation is perilous.  Not as dark as 1944.  But as dark as those Spanish Flu years of 1918

and 1919.   Most of us will survive the pandemic which swirls 

around the planet.  Many will not.   20,000 Canadians have died…as have 800,000 Americans.

And  all of us have seen our lives turned upside down.  A great many sit alone in tiny rooms, others

are locked in condominiums fearful of their own elevators that could harbour Delta or Omicron variants of Covid 19.

There is safety in isolation but that is not the natural state of human beings.  We are social animals

and this virus has turned us into something different.

So let’s call on Vera Lynn again.  Let’s be reminded that

these days will pass and new days will come where laughter

will replace fear.

If you cannot find the song tucked away in your computer,

then just sing it yourself.  You know the tune … we all do.

alan skeoch

Dec. 1545

THE ICE IS STILL THIN….

THIS PICTURE IS MEANT TO BE UNSETTLING…THE DISC PLOW STANDS WHERE ONCE THE BARN STOOD.   A BARRIER BETWEEN

THE TWO PONDS ON OUR FARM.  THREATENING.

DANGER  DANGER  DANGER!!!   SOME DOGS CAN SMELL DANGER AND KNOW EXACTLY WHAT TO DO WHEN DANGER LOOMS AS IT DOES ON

THIS THIN LAYER OF EARKY DECEMBER ICE ON ONE OF THE PONDS ON THE SKEOCH FARM.

DATELINE:  EARLY DECEMBER 2021

LOCATION: SKEOCH FARM, WELLINGTON COUNTY, ONTARIO

The pond ice was thin.  Winter had not quite arrived when our dog Woody tested

the ice and at the same time tested our nerves.  Sunshine, crisp air, a moment of freedom

combined all at once and Woody took a risk.  Big risk.  Deadly risk.  He walked on 

the ice.  Seemed firm.  So he kept on walking far from shore.  He walked out to where 

the December sun had thinned the ice.

Marjorie saw him standing out there.  She knew the adventure was about to turn into

a tragedy.  “Woody, get off the ice!”  Woody looked at her…head up.  And that flexing

of the neck muscles was enough to break the ice.  Woody fell forward and no matter what

he did he could not get back on the ice.  Each time his front paws got a grip another shard 

of ice split away. 

Marjorie screamed and began edging out on the shore ice which split and sank.  Woody]

was splashing around.  Too far away.  “Woody, oh, woody!”  He could do nothing but break 

little panels of ice with his front paws and then submerge and pop up to try again.

Then a very strange thing happened.  A wonderful thing.  Woody’s step sister, Failla, heard

the cry.   She was exploring the margin of another pond over the hill where the barn once stood.

Faila knew in a split second that there was trouble;  And she bolted.  She came full speed

to where Marjorie stood in the shallows with the ice shards.

She did not even stop for guidance.  She ran out to Woody across the firm ice to the

disastrous ice which now floated in pieces around Woody as he thrashed around.

Her speed across the ice reduced her weight on the ice.  She reached Woody.  Stopped

suddenly and her weight broke more ice.  Failla was in the pond with Woody.  

“Oh dear…oh dear!” Marjorie screamed thinking both dogs were about to drown.  And that

could have been true.  But Failla had other ideas.  She began deliberately breaking ice in

a straight line towards the shore.  Towards Marjorie.

Woody is a Labrador dog.  He should be a natural swimmer but.  He was terrified by deep

water.   Woody was having a  panic attack.  He would not…he could not…see

trail of broken ice.  And Failla knew that.  She knew Woody needed more help.

She took the lead showing him the way out through the broken ice,  Failla then turned around and swam back to Woody. 

She showed Woody the way through the shards

of ice to the shore where Marjorie stood.  Speechless.  She saved Woody’s life.

Now many readers know dogs.  Dogs have many strengths and a few weaknesses.  One strength is

the ability to sense danger.  Failla was a long distance away when she heard Marjorie scream.  Failla

could not see the pond where Woody was splashing in his panic.  But she knew instinctively rear

she was needed and she hurtled back to the disaster scene.  More that that.  She did not stop to

assess the situation.  She plunged in…smashing her way across the ice… smashing a trail for Woody to escape.

And even more that that Failla then swam through the channel she had made.  A rescue dog.

If that was Marjorie doing the rescue she would get an award…perhaps even recognition by

the Governor General of Canada.  A medal with a ribbon.  But there was no reward except

this story.  Failla will never be forgotten.  There is an intelligence there when I look at her eyes.

There is love there as well.

alan skeoch

dec. 2021

(Part 2 — putting flesh and blood into the John Skeoch threshing photograph..coming Episode 486)

alan skeoch

dec. 2021

This is a copy of a panorama photograph of John Skeoch (on tractor) and a circa 1920-1927 threshing on his farm near 

 Keiller , Saskatchewan ,  What is the full meaning of the photograph?  Needs a  story 

fleshed out below the pictures.   Skeoch story…Coming Part 2 Episode 486 — a story both personal and broadly historical

alan skeoch

Dec. 2021

FOSSIL LANDSCAPING is currently building a swimming pool complete with decor

from the Niagara Escarpment…heavy decor.

No small task to load and unload these three rocks…heavy enough to raise the front axle, motor

and Sean the driver and loader.

(Note:  Very short story today…Just getting over the ordeal of my computer getting locked because the computer thought I

was being hacked…just too many attempts at password which I had forgotten.)

Begin forwarded message:

From: ALAN SKEOCH <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>

Subject: Fwd: EPISODE 486 BRUNCH AT THE KING EDWARD HOTEL WITH THREE PIGEONS

Date: December 5, 2021 at 4:18:35 PM EST

To: Alan Skeoch <alan.skeoch@rogers.com>

EPISODE 486   BRUNCH  AT THE KING EDWARD HOTEL WITH THREE PIGEONS

alan skeoch

Dec. 5,2021

Life goes on in spite of the Covid 19 epidemic.  But things are not

quite the same for humans.  Pigeons, however, carry on unchanged.

Let’s not dwell on the bad times in which we are now living.   Nice things can happen.  Our daughter in law, Julie and our son Andrew

invited us for brunch at the King Edward Hotel on Sunday December 5….right when covid variant panic was at its peak (I hope the peak).

Why would readers be interested in our joy?   I am writing this episode with reader in mind.  Nice things can

be carefully planned even in bad times. 

“WE have reserved a table for brunch at the King Edward Hotel..our Christmas treat.”

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.

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)

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)
 

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.