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Life in Rockburn, eh?
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Trouble in Parasise
“I put in a vegetable garden for organic veggies and as a retirement hobby. I hadn't gardened since 1998. Among other things, I was looking forward to canning green and yallow beans.
I started picking a few last week and the plants were looking good.
Yresterday I thought I'd have enough for my dinner, but when I went to the garden I discovered the deer got there ahead of me.
Some beans left, but most of the plants have been eaten or uprooted.
“Bummer. Beans are a favorite of deer. Tough to keep them out without a fence or the threat of lead poisoning.”
“When are you having the venison dinner?”
“Soon, very soon.
It's ironic that I hunt down the road and saw only does last year. Deer are all over the place up here. The house on the North side is abandonned and I've been trying to buy it - I only want it for the land and the house is in the process of falling down (the windows are popping, but they're asking 'way more than the value of the land. I guess they realise it would double the value of my place if I got it.
I looked round the overgrown back yard and it is full of deer beds. Two winters ago I looked out my kitchen window and saw 11 deer standing beside the road in fron of that house.
Someting's gonna die (.308 Win. or .35 Rem? maybe a slug).”
“Hunting used to be a sport. Now it's personal.”
“Go with the .308.”
“Yeah, it's a custom stocked Savage M99 with a Redfield Widefield 2¾X scope on Redfield SR mounts. It's a little old fashioned now, but it was state of the art in the 70's. It's provided a lot of meat and one once in a lifetime trophy.
On the other hand my Marlin M336 has beautiful wood and a Marlin barrel band with a swivel stud and a Marlin sling. I had Williams top mounted peep sight a Firesight front bead installed.
Also my garden is only about 25 feet from my back door.
The Redfield is better in low light, however.
“Say goodbye, Deerie!
"Also my garden is only about 25 feet from my back door."
You need a scope for that?”
“A Marlin with beautiful wood? Where'd you find that? The only ones I've seen that looked decent are the newer models with the laminate stocks.”
“Nope, it's an older one. I got it for a song from an old man who didn't want to go through the paperwork to register it (don't do the gun control thing down there, folks). It would go at AAA fancy on a shotgun, both stock and fore-end. If I ever get a digital camera I'll try to post a pic.
Scopes are better in low light conditions, MarkO, less chance of wounding - even though the Firesight is pretty bright. Deer are crepuscular although you can see them pretty much any time of the day up here.”
“crepusculum, crepusculorus, crepusculari, amen.”
Panic in Paradise.
“My daughter called to say shew still doesn't have an apartment in Toronto and is beginning to panic. She has to be out of her Montreal apt. by the end of the month and wants to have somewhere to live (and have it set up) before classes start.
The weather has been horrendous this year. The hay is a disaster. Most farmers are still getting their first cut off. My buddy's still bailing and now he has to do an emergency repair in his bathroom.
We hope to bew tossing bails by 3.0 pm - it will be a long, hot day.
Problem is I can't help him to-morrow because it's our BBQ at the legion and I'm doing the potatoes. It's supposed to rain again Sunday.”
I got fired!
“I got to my buddy's place Friday afternoon (he doesn't want his name on the 'net) and he asked me to rake the side field.
I don't know if it's the anxiety disorder thing or if I'm just out of practice, but I managed to rake his electric fence - major bummer - goats all round and no-one home. I ran like a stripe-arsed ape to unplug the fence and shooed the goats while pulling the wires out of the five, sprung wheels of the rake.
Luckily his youngest daughter arrived and gave me a hand. While bringing his rake to where we'd leave it I managed to rake the little oak tree he'd planted some six years ago - I was pretty shaky by then and left to do some stuff in the village.
When I got back Katy had told him about the fence ('I wanted him in laughing mode for when you'd get here, Doug.' she said). He said he was sure he'd find me in the ditch under the tractor and so it wasn't that bad. Then he went to check the rake and saw the tree.
'YOU'RE FIRED!' he hollered. We had a few beers in his pool and I f*cked off.
I stopped at my buddy Bob's place (my buddy's cousin), but my buddy was already there (curses!) and his brother (Paul who stole the pig at the county fair - scroll up) sucking on beer and laughing about me.
Now, laughing is a good thing - when they're polite it's because they want to lull you as they plan your violent demise. It's going to take a long time to live this down. Paul said we could grieve my firing and Bob said we shoul take it to the Labour Board.
Saturday morning I went straight to my buddy's, but Bob was finishing raking one of the front fields.
'You lying sack of sh*t,' I hollered, 'you're scabbing me!'
Anyhoo, that afternoon when we were husking corn at the Legion after the potatoes were safe on the grill and I told (yes, you really do husk corn with an axe - but I digress) the guys about it and they were choking with laughter.
'Eldon,' I asked (he's about 80) do you need a hired hand - I'm unemployed. He looked at me and said, 'I sold the farm just in time, Doug.'
Well, Monday morning the ex 'phoned and said Suzanne, my daughter, has her apartment in Toronto. I drove her to her place in Montreal to finish packing up and was about half-way home when the ex called to say my son Charlie had had his bank card cloned and had been cleaned out. Back to Montreal in horrendous traffic. I gave hime a couple hundred dollars and yesterday I worked on transferring money from his mother.
I was supposed to finish the work on my house in preparation for painting, but took to-day off - no canning tomatoes, no freezing beans, no making pickles or working on the soffits - just lunch on the terrasse in Ormstown (suprème de poulet à la dijonnaise, Mexican rice and green salad with a ½ litre of red wine) and a stop at the computer centre.
On the good side the Mustang car rally in Huntingdon was a success. The Huntingdon farmers' market is now on-line (www.farmersmarkethuntingdon.com) and British Car and Cycle Day is scheduled for this Saturday at the Rockburn Pub (my local).
On the down side the county might follow Huntingdon's decision to not send firemen to the Westville dump site in New York State. The site is being expanded six-fold and there is concern over our watersheds here. The manager, George Eades, who lives at the other end of my road in Dewittville, QC, says there is no danger, but there is widespread suspicion that a dump on our border and that drains through here mollifies NY residents who would otherwise oppose the project.
Firemen operate on both side of the border here and the effects of such decisions could be quite significant. BTW, my ex and my husaband-in-law have a cottage in Westville where there is excellent fly fishing (I had fresh trout there when I went to get my daughter).
That's about it, eh? Take care and God bless.
last edited: 8/27/08 12:20:04 PM”
“(yes, you really do husk corn with an axe - but I digress)
I would have thought that you would use a tomahawk.”
“Did somebody say axe???”
“Ha ha ha !!!”
“How are you MarkO ?”
I'm getting my left ACL replaced 5 September.
How's you doin', Swamp?”
“Be thrilled, Mark - you'll be happy to get it done.
Things are getting crazy up here as always during harvest. Hay wagons and trucks pulling trailers piled with (big) boxes of apples with more coming off the fields soon.
The corn is coming off the fields and the local geese are flocking up and landing. You can't hear yourself think when they fly overhead.
Tourists are arriving too. Many of the apple farms have roadside stands selling apples (of course) and local produce and products - including the finest maple syrup on the planet. Some are quite elaborate with petting zoos and wagon rides.
We're on the 'Wine Trail' and tasting tourons are on the prowl for the local product (you can even get mead).
Cyclists (don't get me wrong - some of my best friends are cyclists, eh?) are a curse now. The good ones are no problem, of course, but the suburbanites who think country roads are bike lanes are a menace. You see them driving up a hill four abreast and when you give them a short warning honk they give you the finger. I don't know what's on the other side of the hill, it's an 80 kmh (50 mph) road (I don't speed) and if there's a truck coming the other way I'll take the soft targets every time. They need to realise that a country road is an industrial road, particularly at harvest.
Duck season opens Saturday and we scored a sweet spot on the river. When the corn comes off the fields where we hunt Canada and snow geese will be put in the freezer. I got a special permit for antlerless deer in the drawing and should have venison in the freezer too. I have decided to take the wild turkey hunting course this winter. Last spring I was the only one of the gang that didn't hunt, or get a turkey.
Life is good, eh?
Take care, everybody.”
“Oh, yeah, I brought in all my tomatoes and I'll be canning all day to-morrow.
Gotta make pesto too.”
“Well, my buddy's daughter is in college and will be going to university in the city next year. They bought her a second hand SUV so that she could handle the roads in winter, but it proved a dud. They decided to bite the bullet and buy her a brand new Hyundai Accent.
She got the car Friday and was thrilled. My buddy decided to take it for a spin with his daughter. He hit a rabbit. My buddy, being my buddy, jumped out and swung it's head on the pavement to put it out of its misery (the cry of a wounded rabbit - actually snowshoe, or varying hare - is unbearable) and then went to put it in the trunk.
His daughter shouted at him not to put a bleeding animal in her brand new car and so he took off his shoe, stuffed the rabbit's head in it, got back in the car and drove off.
When Becky complained to her mother she was told it must be a lucky car (Bea, a lawyer, just looks at her husband and laughs).
Saturday was the opening of duck season and we got skunked. Nic, the son of the farm owner, who is twelve and crazy about hunting and fishing came with us. Jeff's wife is my buddy Bob's brother-in-law and Bob, Giles and I were pretty horny for ducks. Nic sat there and never complained. When we finally gave up I said to Nic that he'd learned a lesson.
'What lesson?' he asked.
'Nuthin.' I answered.
Well, my buddy asked Bob (his cousin) if he wanted to hunt his spot Sunday morning. Now, my buddy is a hard hunter and his duck hunts involve long walks over ploughed fields and through brush with heavy loads.
They got out early (4.0 am) and about ½ way to where he parks they came across a burning mini-van in the ditch; it had hit a hydro pole. They felt they had no choice and called the police (SQ = state police) and the firemen (Bob was a volunteer fireman for over 20 years).
It turns out it was a stolen vehicle and was probably being used to transport marijuana (a major industry round here - both indoot grow-ops and in the corn fields).
Then when they got into my buddy's truck the battery was dead and, luckily, the firemen were still there to boost them.
They did get a few ducks, but on the way home they came across a herd of beef cattle in the road. They were Bob Dybka's cattle and they went up to the house and got him out. Bob was pretty hung over, apparently, and the rest of the family were still at church and so they spent an hour or so helping him get the 60+ head back in.
Afterward and on their way, my buddy said ,'Look at thos cows over there.'
'Shut the f*ck up and drive.' Bob answered.
That's about all for last week-end; I hope everyone's well, eh?
“Good to see Canada hasn't changed much. BTW rabbit is some good eats.”
“Kill duh wabbit........”
“Things (and I) have been pretty quiet since hunting season(s) ended.
I got out on the skis behind my place early, before the sun heated up the snow. I waxed green which was perfect on new powder, but the sun was getting really strong about 10.30.
There was a lot of fresh deer sign in the orchards and wooodpeckers were having a heyday pecking and screaming (downy and hairy, the latter being somewhat larger).
While driving to the village I noticed the country seemed to have sprung to life. At noon it was 0°C and last night it was -14°C. That means maple syrup season is beginning and pickup trucks were all over the place bringing huge plastic tubs and people to put up the pipelines. Soon the skies will be full of steam.
BTW, in the local paper to-day (the Huntingdon Gleaner) it was mentionned that President Obama was served local ice cidre as an appératif to his working luncheon with our Prime Minister, Stephen Harper. Our area is celebrated for maple syrup and apple products of all kinds.
Take care, eh?
Reports like this make Trail Talk worth visiting.”
“interesting - this is the first I have heard of cidre de glace - what does the cold fermentation change in the way the cider tastes as vs ordinary hard cider?”
“These are most excellent write-ups, Gremlin.
So, Obama had a blast of Rockburn's finest?”
“Hey Gremlin... you remind me, i need to clean and re-wax for this coming weekend. Currently have blue and need to change back to purple now.”
“Dang Jethro, you ski??”
“well duh, i do live in Colorado now. They kick you out after a few years if you don't - and we can't have that now can we!”
Sorry I'm late, eh?
“Roam, you don't need to clean your wax to go from blue to purple. You need to remove wax only when you wax harder (green). Hard wax shouldn't go over softer wax.
HOI, ice cider, like ice wine (Ausgebeerenlese) is made from fruit that has frozen on the tree/vine. The sugar in the fruit crystalises and splits the skin ('noble rot') and this gives a higher concentration of sugar to (wrinkled) fruit making a sweeter wine with higher alcohol content. It has become a regional specialty.
My buddy, his wife and two teen-age daughters left for Toronto yesterday morning to see a Nickleback concert and spend a feww days on holiday during March Break (contest prize - 1st prize: 1 week in Toronto. 2nd prize: 2 weeks in Toronto).
I'm taking care of the ladies and the kids and keeping his outside wood furnace going. It gets me up and out in the morning and it is a pleasant and relaxing passtime in the barn. They're coming back to-morrow and I'll put up the heat in their house for their arrival.
P.s. None of the kids looks like me.
This week daytime temps are well below freezing and the sap has stopped running. Only one place fired up the furnace and I guess got enough sap to boil. It was at the Lalondes who produce organic maple syrup.
last edited: 3/03/09 9:29:04 AM”
“thanks for the tip D.”
“When I was a newspaper kid I had a customer named Lalonde.
I think I stopped for petrol in Tronto many years ago, eh.”
“Hey Grem -
I'm at my nieces to do a bit of remodeling. Her neighbor is from Ft. Erie. Ring a bell?”
“Cool! Where exactly are you now, Joe? Ft. Erie was an important place during the Wat of 1812.
I saw my first (this year) big flight of snow geese (aka Christmas dinner) and my buddy Bob saw a huge flight of Canadas on Saturday.
The tmeperarure has dropped and I'll be getting my year's supply of genuine, local maple syrup soon.”
“Hey, grem. How's the snow up by you? There's still 12 - 18 inches on the ground by me.”
I'm in Paulding, Co., GA. Just west of ATL.”
“I've always wanted to make my own maple syrup. I have a great uncle who made syrup every year until he was in his 90s. (He's 100 now!)
I bet the Canadian who makes those little maple leaf shaped bottles is a rich man, lol!”
“It's (sugar) cane syrup here. I can vaguely remember my grandfather's press. It was mule powered. I know of only one horse (or mule - or ox) driven press still in use.
Some of the syrup will crystalize in the jar, forming into pure cane sugar. Those days are pretty much past. I can't remember the last time I saw a jar of homemade cane syrup.”
“Snow's just about all gone - there's more in Montreal. Still lots north of the city.
I've never seen a maple leaf-shaped bottle. We get it in cans.
We saw our first lage flights of snow geese and Canada this week-end.”
“Were they flyin' Southwest or.............
Who is that in front - you or Feety Klace (not that there's anything wrong with that!)?”
“Whew! I just knew that comment had gotten this thread "canned". I'm sorry I marred your thread, Doug. You're good people - really good people. My comment was out of line.”
“Klteen and MarryO is duks - BOL!”
“? What did I miss?”
“My comment about the gooses. I figured mark or klitn would cry to momma, thus getting the thread jerked-off the board.”
“No worries, I guess.
It was just light hearted.”
“I had some things to do in the village of Ormstown and when I got out of the car all you could hear were wave after wave of geese. Driving down to Huntingdon (here at the computer centre) was a continuous parade of geese looking for open water on the Chateauguay River.
The computer centre is beside a primary school and the kids were in the yard for lunch break.
It struck me that it must be sad to live where the loudest sounds are not returning geese and the laughter of children.
Sugar is going full tilt and the sky is dotted with steam from the boilers.”
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