When I was a young girl, and had finished elementary school, I had to go to a school closer to downtown to attend junior high. I used to love walking home from there, past a traditional neighbourhood like this one with its huge, well-established trees.
It was different from my own neighbourhood where newcomers had built their homes on the outskirts of town, without even a proper street in place yet. Our house was reached by following tire tracks in a grassy field. Much later the roads were built, and eventually the town even put in ditching to redirect spring meltwater that had been running over the road and into everyone’s basement each year.
But closer to downtown, the homes had been there long enough for large trees to grow and add a stately touch to the neighbourhood. Sidewalks were a luxury. We had none yet. I felt as if I were walking through one of the stories in my grade three reader, where people lived in perfect suburbs – the kind every middle class family could be proud of in the 1960s.
The yards were untidy enough to be something close to natural, but not wild and messy with garbage. Safe enough for a person to go for a run without fear of being mugged.
Back then, people were not afraid of being hit on the head or stabbed or shot when they went into town to do their shopping. The worst thing that happened was that someone went up our street at three in the morning stealing the milk money from the empty bottles everyone put out for the milkman each day.
Most townspeople had never heard of home invasions. Many of the houses didn’t even have a lock on their door. We didn’t.
Can you even imagine that?!
Back then, I would have loved to live in a neighbourhood like the one in the photo above.
Of course we have more modern houses now with all the special gadgets and electronics to run our appliances and Internet to put us in touch with the whole rest of the world, but I wonder if I wouldn’t be tempted to give it all up to have the laidback lifestyle of those days back again.
How about you? Are there aspects of those more gentle days that you wish we had been able to keep?
I think I see him. I hope he’s got my bag of grubs.
Yes, you’re right! And I see the big sack full of hazelnuts for me.
Er, ah, HERE I AM, Santa. OVER HERE!
Where? I don’t see anything.
When he does come, I hope he brings me a lot of rosehips. Wonder what they’d taste like. In the winter I get tired of these holly berries and mountain ash berries. But maybe the rosehips are too fuzzy inside. They look good though.
Oooooh! Look! He’s got sleigh troubles. His reindeer are conking out. Should’ve got a Tesla Sleigh. With inflation, the price of reindeer food today is high, even for Santa. But even so, the cost of the Tesla Sleigh itself is enough to break the bank.
Yeah, he’s in trouble all right. Look! He’s turning around. Sniff… there goes that box of dog biscuits I asked for.
I see that. Hmm … I think I hear them complaining about being hitched up so close. Something about social distancing.
Sigh! No herring for supper tonight. Not by special delivery, anyway.
Well, I never! He’s going back to the North Pole. There goes that bunch of tree bugs I asked for.
I’ll go round up some recr-hoots.
Hey, you. Santa’s looking to hire you, Al and the Paca, to be his reindeer substitutes.
What’s that you say? You don’t play second fiddle? Huh! You’d think that in the spirit of Christmas, you’d oblige an old man. I see you are related to those llamas next door with all their llammering. You’re just lazy, the All Packa ya. Well, see if I give a hoot.
Here’s a likely crew.
Say, would you pronghorns like to save Santa’s bacon tonight?
But we’re in Montana.
That’s okay. He’ll have to go by there when he limps home with his rainydeer crew and drops them off. Maybe you can hop on and help get them home before the nightshift begins. Thanks a lot.
I’ve been watching and I don’t see him coming back yet. Must be in the workshop, adjusting the harnesses to the new team.
I think I see him now, with his fresh crew of pronghorns. Funny-looking reindeer. Better than nothing, I guess.
Oh, this is so exciting. We just can’t sit still.
Children, children, not so loud,
Reindeer’s nervous of the crowd,
Send a delegation out,
Find that sleigh, and kids don’t pout.
Let’s go meet him.
This way! This way!
Santa’s big sleigh.
Sliding, gliding,
Santa’s riding.
Now settle down or Santa will think you’re all quackers.
Look how well behaved we are; black and white, eating at the same table together. One big happy flock. We’re a “blended flock.”
Oh, listen to you guys. You think it’s easy being the black swan of the family?
Whaddaya mean? You think you’ve got it bad? You try being a rat. All I did was chew on a few of those lovely black licorice cords in the truck and WHAM! They lifted the trunk and exposed me to the elements. But they won’t see me hiding in the corner. Bet you can’t see me either. I’ve got a really good hiding place in the door well too. I’ll just wait there until Santa brings new wiring for me to nibble on.
One thing we all got for Christmas – not sure if Santa had anything to do with it – was darn cold weather. So when Santa had to fly back to change his Rainydeer tires for the more heavy-duty Pronghorn brand, he asked the North Wind to provide some Puddle Puzzles for us to play with while we await his return.
Actually, I thought the puzzles were more like A-maze-ing. You just try it. See if you can find a path out of this maze.
I hope your Christmas holiday time is amazing too.
Did you find the rat in the truck? Look on the far back right-hand corner of the picture (actually the left side of the truck).
My name is Vera. I’m a varied thrush. You may think I look a lot like Roberta the robin. She’s my cousin.
Here’s Roberta the robin this spring, looking a bit ruffled up against the wind.
Roberta came down from the hills with her friends and family last week and so did all my varied thrush friends. We’d been in the conifers in the hills, picking at berries and bugs, but then the snow came and covered all our food.
So we huddled in the woods until the worst of the weather blew over and then found out where Roberta had gone. Well, we all congregated at Anneli’s house and at some of her neighbours’ too. The bare patches of dirt had bugs and worms we could pick at, and the houses along this road had a lot of mountain ash trees growing, so we ate some of those red berries they grow.
With Canadian Thanksgiving coming up this weekend, I decided to read some background on the origins of this holiday and found that the information was a jumble of ideas and beliefs, historical evidence, and a lot of surmise. This holiday celebrated everything from a reunion of Martin Frobisher’s scattered windblown fleet in northern Canada in 1578 to Champlain’s feasts of thanksgiving for the harvest with the Mi’kmaqs and the French in 1606 (at which time the Mi’kmaqs introduced cranberries to the pioneers’ diet and helped prevent scurvy).
The American influence brought the North American turkey, pumpkins, and squash to the Thanksgiving feast in the 1750s.
On January 31, 1957, the annual harvest time feast became an official holiday. In Canada it was to be held on the second Monday of October. An earlier November date was changed so it would not interfere with Remembrance Day on November 11.
Whatever the historical reasons for dates and for celebrating, it is commonly accepted that it is a time to give thanks for our many blessings.
These blessings may differ from one person to another, but the feeling of gratitude is the same.
Some traits to consider, one for each letter of Happy Thanksgiving:
Humble
Aiding
Providing
Patient
Yielding
Thankful
Helpful
Active
Noble
Kneeling
Satisfied
Gracious
Inviting
Volunteering
Innovative
Natural
Goodness
I hope you all have a million things to be thankful for this year. I know I do.
wordsfromanneli 