alan skeoch
March 31, 2023

Something was wrong.   Distant vista had changed…so far away it was hardly noticeable.
But something had changed.   

Got out my Canon camera….pushed telephoto…and discovered that Angus McEachern’s
barn hd been morally wounded in the windstorm.

No one could possibly repair the damage.  Who could climb up that high with heavy wood beams
and planks and then 4 x 8 floor sheets of corrugated iron.   Even the articulated buckets on Hydro trucks
could do nothing.

So now our vista will be rather nasty as we watch the rest of the barn eventually collapse..might take
a year or so.  But it will happen.

I have a happier story coming about happier days in and around  this barn.




alan skeoch
March 28,2023

The day began with sun and ended as bleak and dark as a Victorian novel.
I was alone at the farm slogging through snowdrifts that collapsed inward
with each footfall.   Instead of getting warmer the day was getting colder.

Nothing was being achieved.

Until I lifted  the lid of a sap pail hanging on a young maple tree.
The pail was full and overflowing.   My mouth was dry.   So I was
able to squeeze my head  into the sap pail and like a butterfly I unfold my
proboscis and ingest the pure clear sap .  Sweet as a baby’s-breath.
Cool…so cool.

Small things can  give great pleasure..

Andrew’s evaporator is state of the art….the sap boiled down from 40 to 1 comes out a light brown colour

When I did the boiling down 40 years ago, my maple syrup was as black as the night sky   Why?  because system I used was
one big black sap pan.  Open… on top of  blazing pile of wood…Lots of smoke and lots of ash.  Black syrup.   No wonder
no one wanted the stuff.  I still have 1 quart around somewhere,   Even I won’t touch it.  Another reason for rejection
was lead soldered sap pails.  Lead poisoning.   It was a good thing it was rejected.

Now join me….dip your tongue in this clear male sap.  Close our eyes.   

I am told that some entrepreneur is now selling ‘maple water’….maple sap.  Check your supermarket.


The face in the shadows ?  My brother Eric.



alan skeoch
march 27 2023

The autumn leaves are long forgotten now.  The joy we found in those autumn leaves need not be forgotten, however.
My favourite factor graveyard shows off best when framed in snow and ice. 

There was a time a few years ago..decades ago…when the graveyard of dead and long forgotten tractors could
be found in every town, village or hamlet of Southern Ontario.  I loved the sight of these machines.  Especially if
they showed the wear of time as this tractor graveyard clearly does.  Some readers may not agree.  No matter there
is lots of room on this earth for people whose eye for beauty differs.   ‘Bealjty is in the eye of the beholder, as you
may know.    Best I not say where this tractor graveyard is located.   The owner may not want a troop of admirers
who would get in the way of resuscitating a near dead tractor.

The owners has welcomed me so often that I hope he and she will not be offended.  One gravestone belongs to
me.  See if you can find a blacksmith forge in the yard.  That’s mine and may be brought back to life.

And Notice a new addition … a new gravestone maybe.  See if you can spot a well drilling rig that has just
arrived.  Perhaps not dead.  Perhaps just in need of a transfusion.

Places like this have had a deep affect on our lives…Marjorie, Andrew, Kevin and I have all been struck by
such pictures..  In my case I applied for sabbatical leave from Parkdale Collegiate long ago. And we spent a 
wonderful year researching and writing “Technology and Change in 19th century Ontario Agriculture” at
the University of Toronto.  My M.A. I was accepted in three departments of the university,…History with Dr. JMS Careless,
Fine Arts with Dr.Don  Webster, and Engineering with a bunch of engineering profs.   The end result was a 300 page
tome that is on file several places….even the New York Historical Society in Cooperstown and Black Creek pioneer Village.

I am not sure everyone who touched the 300 page creation actually read it.  Doubt that happened.  


Below is a test…Test?  See how you react to these photos.  No.  I will not tell you where the tractor graveyard is located.
Perhaps you can find a similar art collection somewhere near you.



alan skeoch
march 2023

THE fire that started in the kitchen of the Trafalgar Golf Club did not kill golfing.  The fire happened on the evening 
of Augsut 15, 2017 when no one was around.  The fire was not considered  “suspicious”.   But the The  Ontario Fire Marshal’s office
was investigating.    

 I noticed
golfers still enjoying themselves on the immaculate course in October 2023.   Golfing had survived.
Then this month… March, 2023 …..chain saws began felling the trees until they were gone.  The grand trees that sheltered
each golfing green were suddenly butchered  and the greens were bulldozed into piles of soil destined for removal.

What the Trafalgar golf an country club looked like last summer….and at the end of October 2022
(see below)
Trafalgar Golf and Country Club | All Square GolfTrafalgar Golf and Country Club | All Square GolfHead pro Brad making it look easy on hole 14 with this smooth drive.  Spoiler alert 🚨 he made birdie | By Trafalgar Golf & Country Club |  FacebookTrafalgar Golf & Country Club (@trafalgarGN) / TwitterTrafalgar golf club blaze causes $3M in damage | TheSpec.comTrafalgar Golf and Country – Porteous HardcastleTrafalgar Golf and Country Club | All Square GolfTrafalgar Golf Club - Reviews & Course Info | GolfNowPin on Golf Course DealsUPDATE: Trafalgar Golf clubhouse destroyed by fire | MyKawartha.comTrafalgar Golf Club, Attraction, Gippsland, Victoria, AustraliaWhy Diamond Bar Golf Course will close for 18 months – San Gabriel Valley  Tribune

What the golf course looks like today….see below



alan skeoch
March 25, 2023

A python is a snake that crushes its victims in a slow death as its body Curls tighter and tighter.
We have….had…a python like plant in our garden for at least 30 years.  A cute plant that is
supposed to flower in brilliant hanging purple blossoms.  Never happened.  Each year we
waited. No flowers.  But slowly and silently the WISTERIA tightened its grip on our outdoor 
lamp post….twisted coils reaching ever upward until a tendril clamped on our electricity line sit looped in
from the street.   Seemed light at first.  But the light grip became a twisting chokehold that
got heavier and heavier…longer and longer as the tendrils crept towards our house.  Once there
the python (wisteria) pierced the house wall pulled off the eavestrough and got so heavy that
the power line sagged to the point we feared it would break.

If the power line snapped then a live and very dangerous electric cable would fall
directty on to our car and truck in the lane.  Som  living thing could get killed and it would
not be the wisteria.  I got a 15 foot length of 2 x 8 to push up the wires.   Actually aiding 
and abetting the wisteria.   The eavestrough nails popped out.  Then A black squirrel family
found comfortable home beneath our roof.  

This was bad news.  What to do?


I sent an urgent note via email to our electricity provider, Alectra Utilities, and overnight
action was taken.  Bill Campbell and his two man crew arrived with a wisteria fighter.
The truck must ave cost $150,000 or more.  A huge thing with an articulated bucket
that could put a man above our tree canopy….high above the wisteiria.   The wisteria fighter
had weapons.  Special chain saw, heavy duty wire cutters, hammers, etc.   

So we were able to kill the wisteria we think.  But the root remans and will likely seek
to not out tendrils this spring.   I am not a violent man so i have given Marjorie a 
heavy duty brush cutter to snip off  the tendrils.

If necessary I will call Bill Campbell and his crew again.  Cheerfu bunch.

How do  I know they are cheerful?   By one side comment. 

“Glad to see you came to do battle with the wisteria python.”
“Take an hour or two but  we will get it”
“I will try to stay out of your hair,”  I said to Billl
“That will be easy,” hollered one of the crew.
“Because Bill doesn’t have any hair.”

Sure enough when Bill took of his hard hat there were only a few tendrils of hair.
Just the right man to wage a war against the wisteria python.


Not my problem any more.

We have hired this bull dog to keep wisteria in check….vicious


EPIODE 745     PAPERBOYS…ADVENTURES 1950’S..Toronto star sold for 3 cents, we got half a cent.

alan skeoch
March 24, 2023

Eric and I had a small paper route on Fairview Avenue in 1950. There
was nothing special about us.  Lots of other
boys and girls had similar routes all across Toronto.  The Toronto Star sold for
3 cents a copy of which we made half  cent.  That is meaningless today.  The
cent no longer exists,   But in 1950 cents could accumulate if we were careful
and eventually I was able to buy a Humber Sports racing bike with 3 speed Sturmey
Archer gears.  Paid for by money saved  courtesy of the Toronto Star.

Today my brother Eric arrived and while we drank coffee and ate breakfast 
some of the stories spilled from our mouths.

Guest opinion: A tribute to daily newspaper carriers - Deseret NewsWHY IS IT DIFFICULT TO GET RELIABLE NEWSPAPER DELIVERY? | Glen Armil  Neighborhood Associationsmallkitchenchronicles.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/toronto_star_paperboy_whitby-edited.jpg?w=608&h=878 608w, smallkitchenchronicles.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/toronto_star_paperboy_whitby-edited.jpg?w=104&h=150 104w, smallkitchenchronicles.files.wordpress.com/2012/10/toronto_star_paperboy_whitby-edited.jpg?w=208&h=300 208w” sizes=”(max-width: 304px) 100vw, 304px”>
Some pics….not Eric…just 1950’s paperboys


1)  Our bundle of papers arrived bound together with wire. We snipped the
wire and wrapped it around the lamppost.  Quite a pile of rusty wire built up.
Ugly as sin but a marker for our time spent delivering papers on Fairview Avenue.

“Boys, you must stop wrapping that wire around the post.”
“Because it is costing me a fortune in nylons…the wire  tears them.
   (nice lady on Annette Street with torn nylons)

16 Classic Photos That Capture Nylon Stockings' Allure In The 1940s And  1950s » Design You Trust

“Alan, have you noticed that our wire pile gives an electric jolt once in a while.”
“Must be some kind of leakage of electricity”
“May be we should stop piling up the wire.”
“Electrically charged paper route….a one of a kind”
“I’m going to start wearing gloves.”
“Best to just snip the wire.and put it in the garbage.”
“Another grand idea destroyed by nylon stockings”

2) “Alan, I’m in big trouble now.”
“How so?”
“I winged a paper through a living room window.”
“Glass shattered?”
“Woman said she was having a bath when it happened…’could
not go downstairs…glass all over living room floor.’  Angry
as all get out.”

We speeded up our delivery system by folding the star in such a way
that it was possible to throw papers from our bikes.  Eric threw a
perfect right handed copy as he sped down the list side of Fairview.
Not lobbed.  Eric threw bullet like copies until that day.

We never knew how the situation was resolved because Dad
went down to see the lady.  We paid for the window I think.
But we did not lose a customer.  Sometimes, albeit rarely, dad
could be charming.  Even at his best women seemed to like him.

3)   “Eric, I’ll give you a quarter if you grab that squirrel by the tail.”
“You’re on…watch me.”
The squirrel nosed its way tentatively to his hand…then he grabbed
it by the tail….fast grab.
The squirrel turned around fast…sunk its sickle like claws deep in
Eric’s arm….drew blood.
“Guess I owe you a quarter, Eric”
That happened on the lawn of the lady with the smashed window

4) There were some dark times on that paper route.  One hit hard.
A girl in my class died.  I was only 12 years old in 1950.  Seemed 
impossible that a kid my age could die.  But the ominous cloud of
polio militias hung over us.   I think that is how she died.  I never
knew her name.

Polio hit closer to home in 1953 or 1954 when Jim G.
was suddenly bed ridden with polio,  He was a classmate….friendly guy
who seemed indestructible .  Then he was gone from Humberside and
bed ridden.  Russ Vanstone, Jim Romaniuk and I bought him a gift.
If he was bed ridden he needed some fine literature so we bought
him a skin book…may have been a copy of Playboy   Nice magazine…we
read it first. Not exactly reading material.  We gawked at it before 
giving the mag to Jim.  I remember his mother was unimpressed.
If I remember correctly Jim never fully recovered froM polio.  Memory
could be wrong.

Polio: memories of self-isolation in the 1950s - BBC News
THIS Polio: memories of self-isolation in the 1950s - BBC NewsIS NOT JIM G…polio victim thoughAmazon.com: Playboy Magazine, December 1953: Hugh M. Hefner ...

Dr. Jonas Salk looking at test tubes in his lab.
Oct. 1954. Dr. Salk with the polio vaccine

Where would he have got polio?   Perhaps just by going swimming
at the Mineral Baths on Bloor Street.  At least that was the rumour.
We spent some of our cash profits at Minnies.  Danger rumours were
Not strong enough to stop us    If the rumour had been stronger then one dark event in my
life might have been avoided…my meeting with a police officer and
being driven home in the back seat of a police car.  That’s another story
though.  I was really innocent but no one except my young brother
would believe me.

High Park Mineral Baths, Bloor Street West, north side, e – All Items –  Digital Archive : Toronto Public LibraryThe history of the High Park Mineral Baths in Toronto

High Park Mineral Baths, Bloor Street West, north side, e

Minnies had a high triple height  tower from which could jump
or dive.  Dangerous.

“Do not run and jump from the top platform?
“Why not?”
“You could miss the pool and impale yourself on the wire spiked 
fence on the other side of the pool”
“Are you kidding?”
“No.  Some guy got killed doing a running jump.”
“Never knew but all the kids talk about it.”  
“Which means it never happened.”
“Possibly. Why don’t you take a running jump just to get
your name in the Toronto Star.”

5) Even closer to us was the death of Windows Doyle’s young 
brother.  The Doyles were our customers and schoolmates.
When Windows Doyle’s brother died the shock was electric…numbing.
How could a person die from peanut butter?  Die from an allergic
reaction to peanuts?  Or was it walnuts? I still remember just how deep his death
affected all of us but particularly Windows of course.  I even
hesitate to note the event which happened 76 years ago.  That 
tragedy reminded us of our own mortality.

“Sad…tragic….but can I ask a question?
“Why was Windows Doyle called ‘Windows’?”
“Eric, my brother , has always been good at nicknames.
“So what?”
“So when Bill Doyle suddenly had to wear glasses, Eric nick 
named him windows…and the name stuck…

How is all this connected to our paper route on Fairview Avenue?  Good question.
Being paperboys made us deeply aware of our community…all ages not just our

Gone with the wind.  Paperboys and papergirls.  The newspapers themselves are
in danger of disappearing as we punch our way into a digital age.




alan skeoch
March 22, 2023

1890’s Hamburg Threshing Machine made by Samuel and Simeon Merner 

SAMJUEL MERNER SPEAKS FROM THE GRAVE…Imaginary conversation aided by Alan Skeoch

“My name is Samuel Merner,  I build threshing machines and cannot for the life of
me understand why you do not love them as I do.”
“Mr. Merner, this is the year 2023, the days of the threshing machine are long gone. We now
use motorized combine harvesters.  Your machines are just dust collectors in museums.”
“Now that hurts my feelings…’dust collectors’ is an insult.”
“Tell me about yourself, Mr. Merner, maybe we can appreciate you more.”
“My parents migrated here from Switzerland in 1837 when I was 14 years old.  Got a small
farm near New Hamburg where others like us, so called Pennsyvania Dutch people had setled…Germanic
people from the Rhine River Valley.”
“Are they those people dressed in black?”
“Mennonites and some Amish.  Protestants.”
“How is that connected to threshing machines?”
“Long story.  As a boy I was fascinated by the local blacksmith and was lucky enough
to be trained as such.  Farmers needed metal tools.  I began making them and opened a shop
in New Hamburg in 1844. “

My son Simeon Merner also became a blacksmith and both of us began making bigger machines.
…threshing machines.”
“Like the machine you want to give away today?”
“The machine I would like to give to a museum was made around 1890…we kept improving our
threshing machines but tried to keep them as small as possible.”
“Local market?”
“No.  Our machines were sold all across Ontario and even on the
western prairies.  

Threshing machines have hearts as we humans do.  This is the
heart of a thresher….the Cylinder that spins ripping gran sheaves apart
and hurling the grain….

VOICE FROM THE GRAVE: SAMUEL MERNER  (assisted by Alan Skeoch)

 “OUR company was specially successful after my death.”
(Imaginry dialogue continues)
”  By 1897 investors helped form the New Hamburg Manufacturing
“How come?”
“My son Simeon was a good businessman and  our company was able to lure
Werner Brodrecht as manager back in 1888…his skill expanded the business and
we even begn making tratcion steam engines.”
“The factory burned down in 1901…”
“Yes, but we rebuilt the whole operation and were successful until 1914 when we failed.
“Attempts to revive New Hamburg Manufacturing in the 1920’s failed thereby endning  80 years
of production”

“I take it yo are disappointed today Samuel. “
“I am.  I would like to donate this sole survivor of our company’s threshing machines but 
no one seems to care.”
“I thought the booming city of Mississauga had the machine.”
“Yes, donated by Alan Skeoch.  But Mississauga had no place for a threshing machine
and no real interest in agriculture.  Someone called Alan and asked him to get
the machine out of the tiny Bradley Museum barn.  So Alan and his Son Andrew persuaded 
Bill Books to store it in his drive shed while they searched for a new home.  “
“Well, first attempted to make contact with the Wellington County Museum who have a huge barn
with a largely empty threshing floor.  Perfect place. “
“No response.”
“Recently made contact with Doon Pioneer Village.  Alan gave them a beautifully stencilled
thresher a few years ago…”
“Any response?”
“Yes, they are considering the offer.”

“What is the problem with museums?”
“Running a museum is a thankless job. Viisitors are few in number.  Storage space limited.
Staff limited as well.  If tax revenue shrinks then first thing on the discard block is local
“What about the Province of Ontario.\?
“Are you trying to be funny.   The Province of Ontario does not give 
a sweet goddamn about agricultural artifacts.   Look what happened to 
the Ontario Agricultural Museum in Milton.”
“Put in mothballs 20 years ago.  Now just sits there on precious land…and let the cobwebs thrive.”

“Samuel,  what do you think will happen to your ancient thresher?”
“It will go to the dump once Bill and Leah Brooks need the space in their machine shop in Limehouse.”
“How did Alan Skeoch get  your threshing machine in the first place?”
“He bought it at an auction of the Thompson collection 40 years ago…
bought four threshing machines that day.””
“He said he could not stand to see historic artifacts like our Hamburg Thresher go
to the scrap man.”
“Why would a scrap man want a threshing machine?”
“For the iron parts.  They set those old wooden machines of fire and  gather up
the pulleys and threshing cylinders and haul them to the steel mill in Hamilton
or any local scrap yard.”

GHOST OF SAMUEL MERNER SPOKE  (aided by Alan Skeoch)



alan skeoch
March 19, 2023

TIME WARP:  MARCH 19, 1975

“Marjorie the sap is running.”
“Too cold for sap, Alan….and we are in a snowstorm”
”Sap is running up the maples…feel it in my blood…time to tap the trees.”
And so, in 1975, we packed the truck with styles, sap buckets, drill and headed for the
Saunders maple bush on the fourth line.  Spent a happy day drilling trees with a slight incline
so the ‘lifeblood of the forest’ could be harvested   The kids, Kevin and Andrew, joined Marjorie
and me and Tara, our coonhound, in what turned out to be a delightful adventure.  So what if
the sap pails were old and lead soldered!  We were unaware of lead poisoning.  So what if a
deadbeat with a 22 rifle was getting ready to shoot holes in the pails “Just watch that lifeblood of
the forest “drain to the ground,  We got enough to make a gallon or two of syrup.  It wasn’t so much
as the joy of syrup making anyway.  We were out and about and ready for spring.  So what if the land was cold and
snow covered.   The change of seasons was on its way  Wild garlic was poking its head through
the snow.

That was half a century ago.


Today was reminiscent of that time.  As we headed up the Fifth line in a light snowstorm under
dark clouds we were suddenly startled by a blob of bright orange on the road ahead.  

“Andy is out tapping the maple trees today.”
“Using your old kit?”
“Nope, he is using aluminum pails…no lead poisoning…but everything else he found
in the barn.  Waiting half a century for him to come. “
“Does he need the tractor?”
“Yes, it is more than half a century old as well as most of the sap kit.”
“You planted the seed in his brain, Alan.”
“Notice he only puts one pail per tree…just takes a little of the lifeblood of
the forest…like the Red Cross does with our blood.”

“I wonder if the assassin with the 22 rifle is still around here”
“That idiot was on the fourth line.  The fifth line is more civilized.”
“Not in the deep forest…neighbours can watch.”
“The guy with the gun was likely 14 years old…kids do
stupid things.”
“Just like you did.”
“As God is my witness I did not know a BB gun could put a hole
in the back window of Angus McEchern’s pickup truck.  That was]
a long time ago when I was 14.”:
”A day just like this day.”
“Spring was in the air back then just as it is today.”

“Alan you must like that term.”
“What term?”
“Lifeblood of the forest.”
“Suitable metaphor.”

“You want to know what makes me feel good about the tree tapping today?”
“We did it…we put the idea in Andrew’s brain on those days so long ago.”
“And there he is wading through snowdrifts with drill and spyle and pail.”

“The maple trees are waking up today?
“Everyone else is fast asleep.”
“No everyone.  Te Saunders cattle herd is busy eating what 
remains of the corn field.
“Along with about 100 Canada Geese also gorging on dropped corn kernels.”
“Isn’t this where we startled a couple of wild turkeys last week?”
“Same place…the land is alive.”
“We are not alone.”

“Did you see the ancient steam tractor on the Fourth Line.”
“That belonged to Sherwood Hume…I think Gladys and the boys
hauled it out there.  Sort of a gravestone for Sherwood…he loved
the machines of the past.”

“Look over there, Marjorie, that barn has turned green…it is alive
and getting ready for spring…get he idea?”

“Time to get home.”
“Time to get the pancakes ready.”
“Slobber on the maple syrup.:
“Don’t you mean the “lifeblood of the forest”
“Did you invent the term?”
“Like to think so but there is nothing new under the sun”


“What are those carrot tops doing in the shopping bag?”
“For the wild bunny living in the shed.”
“Some people would think of shooting the little fellow.”
“Not us.”
“Even Woody likes that rabbit.”
“Strange dog.”
“Woody smells …he knows that Spring is in the air
and in the ground…and under the snow and ice in the SWAMP.

A swamp, a fen, a marsh, a bog;
they’re all the same.
You trudge, you slog.
The ground is soft and wet and spongy.
Stay a while and you’ll feel grungy.
Walk a little further yet.
Your feet sink in;
your legs are wet.
Stay long enough,
you very might
be getting a mosquito bite.

There’s dogfish, cattails,
frogs and otters,
some turtles, beavers, in the water,
hawks and ducks and northern pike,
bald eagles, black birds — 
much to like.
So grab your boots and come on in.
It’s better if you do not swim,
but save the wetlands
marsh and bogs
for all the turtles
ducks and frogs.

By Denise Rodgers

Copyright© Denise Rodgers
Great Lakes Rhythm & Rhyme



alan skeoch
march 17, 2023

Task: To replicate this cider press in a folk art miniature about 4 inches high and long
in order to complement a wooden quilt apple orchard.


Apple cider making was once big business. Apples were available by the tons
each fall and crushing them yielded lots of apple juice which could be converted to
hard cider…i,e alcohol laden cider.

Some apples were better than others.  Rather tart cider apples such as the famous
Herefordshire Red Streak made the best hard cider but for some reasons Red Streak
apple trees did not thrive in Canada.

So our hard cider — alcohol laden — was made from pretty well any apple whether picked from the
apple trees or gathered from the wormy windfalls on the ground.   I assume these apples were 
not selected for quality.  Nor did it matter much if they were wormy. 

Currently I am working on a wooden quilt that features my folk art impression of
an apple  orchard and an apple press.   Cider making on Canadian farms was not
exactly done with quality control  in mind.

And each fall tons and Tons of Canadian apples were crammed into light wooden 
barrels to be shipped to England . I assume that was for the ‘scrumpy’ Cider market.
Scrumpy cider was low cost and low quality … kept often under the bar at local
pubs.  I believe that is still the case.  Scrmpy drinkers are a special breed.  Right 
or wrong?

What mystified me about that 19th century business was how these barrels of
apples were kept from rotting.  Once a barrel was filled an apple a press was
applied to push the top apples down so a lid could be nailed on the barrel.
Apples pressed together like this go rotten fast.   Even apples sitting in an
apple bowl on a table will rot fast the then touch each other. Big bown, 
ugly tings. Inedible. They rot fast.

So I leave this question:   Did those barrels of Canadian apples arrive in
England as rotten apples and were then made into rotten apple scrumpy cider.

Whereas Herefordshire Red Streak apples made and still make a delightful
sparkling somewhat alcoholic drink.   Bulmer’s Apple cider under the title
‘Strongbow’ , an English make, is prominent in our liquor stores.

This reminds me of an embarrassing incident long ago when I was doing research on
English tithe barns and came across a cider making operation in Herefordshire, England..

“Kevin, you keep the video camera going while I do this interview
unannounced.  I’ll do the talking.”
“Hello there, just wondering if you use red streak apples…..”
(The interview went badly…rotten.)
“Just who the hell do you think you  are.  Nervy bastard.  Coming
in here with your smarmy questions and camera rolling.  Get out.”’
(I think our son Kevin lost some of his admiration for his father that day.
I wonder where the tape of the three minute interview has been stuffed.)

This was not my finest moment.  Never got to taste his cider.  We left with our tails between our legs.


Look closely at the apple barrel….see the press?  Apples being pressed .  They must
have gone rotten fast.