The Witching Hour...Happy Halloween!

Spooky..ghoulish..murky..dark..dank..haunting..hair-raising..horrific..gruesome..fiendish..goose bumps..terrifying..black as pitch..frightening..witchy..twitchy..batty..demonic..scary..ghostly...
Words to describe a wonderfully wacky time of year when the little witches and goblins come out to trick or treat us before scurrying back into their little worlds of weirdness till the next October 31st.
I always enjoyed Halloween as a child. My friends and I would go out and scour the nearby neighborhoods for as much candy as we could get our hands on before the witching hour was over. I remember one Halloween when my Dad planned out and made my costume. I was around nine or ten. He decided I would be a contessa and he made me a very tall cone like hat out of bristol board with long streamers from the top of the hat. I had some kind of sparkly purple dress and he painstakingly did my makeup... I remember I had lots of red blusher and blood red lips. I was totally regal... just as he intended.

One year I returned the favor. I was in my teens at that time and our neighbors were having a Halloween party. My Dad didn't think he wanted to go because he couldn't think of a good costume. I came up with the idea that he should go as an accident victim. We had a set of crutches that he used and gauze and tensor bandages. Dad wore his pajamas and covered himself with the bandages and gauze around his head and did his makeup to make it look like he was in a terrible accident and covered with blood. He looked so awesome... I believe my mother has photos in one of her albums.

When my brother Dave got older he didn't think it was right to go out trick or treating but he wanted to collect money for Unicef. Away he went and at each house they would insist he take some candy. His pockets were soon so full of candy he ran out of room to store it so some kind person gave him a bag and he ended up coming home with way more candy than I did. It was a really unselfish thing for him to do and he was rewarded for his act of kindness.

When I was a really small child my Dad made up my brothers to be pirates or some such costume and when they came downstairs and I saw them I totally freaked out and was screaming and crying with fright. My parents couldn't convince me it was only Mike and Dave, my brothers. I never quite believed that it was them and I was inconsolable. I never got over that fright... I remember it quite well to this day!

I love this story...................

The Headless Horseman Pursuing Ichabod Crane

"The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" is a short story by Washington Irving contained in his collection The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent., written while he was living in Birmingham, England, and first published in 1820. With Irving's companion piece "Rip Van Winkle", "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" is among the earliest examples of American fiction still read today.
(1858) by John Quidor

Headless Horseman. Here are the lyrics to that timeless song written by Don Rage and Gene De Paul.

When the spooks have a midnight Jamboree
They break it up with fiendish glee
Ghosts are bad, but the one that's cursed
It's the Headless Horseman, he's the worst

That's right, he's a fright, on Halloween night

But when he goes a-joggin' 'cross the land
Holdin' his noggin in his hand
Demons take one look and groan
And hit the road for parts unknown

Beware, take care, he rides alone

And there's no spook, like a spook who's sporned
They don't like him, and he's really burned
He swears to the longest day he's dead
He'll show them that he can get a head

They say he's tired of his flamin' top
He's got a yen to make a swap
So he rides one night each year
To find a head in the hollow here

Now he likes them little, he likes them big
Part in the middle, or a wig
Black or white or even red
The Headless Horseman needs a head

With a hip-hip and a clippity-clop
He's out lookin' for a top to chop
So don't stop to figure out a plan
You can't reason with a headless man

Now if you doubt this tale is so
I met that spook just a year ago
No, I didn't stop for a second look
For once you cross that bridge, my brook friends

The ghost is through, his power ends

So when you're riding home tonight
Make for the bridge with all your might
He'll be down in the hollow there
He needs your head, look out, beware

With a hip-hip and a clippity-clop
He's out looking for a head to swap
So don't try to figure out a plan
You can't reason with a headless man

Have a great Halloween everybody and stay safe!!!!!!!

WE ARE THE CHOSEN

We Are The Chosen

In each family there is one who seems called to find the ancestors.
To put flesh on their bones and make them live again,

To tell the family story and to feel that somehow they know and approve.

Doing genealogy is not a cold gathering of facts
But instead, breathing life into all who have gone before.

We are the storytellers of the tribe, all tribes have one.
We have been called, as it were, by our genes.

Those who have gone before cry out to us, "Tell our story", so we do.
In finding them, we somehow find ourselves.

How many graves have I stood before now and cried? I have lost count.
How many times have I told the ancestors, "You have a wonderful family;
you would be proud of us."

How many times have I walked up to a grave and felt somehow there was
love there for me? I cannot say.

It goes beyond just documenting facts.
It goes to who I am and why do I do the things I do.

It goes to seeing a cemetery about to be lost forever to weeds and
indifference and saying, "I can't let this happen."

The bones here are bones of my bone and flesh of my flesh.
It goes to doing something about it.

It goes to pride in what our ancestors were able to accomplish,
How they contributed to what we are today.

It goes to respecting their hardships and losses,
Their never giving in or giving up, their resoluteness to go on and
build a life for their family.

It goes to deep pride that the fathers fought and some died to make and keep us a Nation.

It goes to a deep and immense understanding that they were doing it for us.

It is of equal pride and love that our mothers struggled to give us birth.

Without them we could not exist, and so we love each one, as far back as we can reach.

That we might be born who we are, that we might remember them.

So we do.

With love and caring and scribing each fact of their existence,
Because we are they and they are the sum of who we are.

So, as a scribe called, I tell the story of my family.

It is up to that one called in the next generation to answer the call
and take my place in the long line of family storytellers.

That is why I do my family genealogy,

That is what calls those young and old to step up and restore the memory
or greet those whom we had never known before.

I felt called upon in 2001 to begin researching my family history, something I had not given one thought to previously. I believe it began with a lovely lady I met on our street in Redcliff named Della Stout. Della had been researching her family tree for many years, using the old fashioned methods of reading and transcribing microfilms at a family history library, using snail mail to send letters requesting information, certificates, etc, and rather than storing all her information in an electronic file in her computer, which she didn't have, she made up scrapbooks of information. She had many scrapbooks, full to the brim, of the different lines she had researched for both her family and her husband's family. She lovingly and proudly shared with me her work and encouraged me to give it a try. I remember those days, not knowing where on earth to start, and not having much luck with internet searches. I decided I better try to get a background and went to my Mom who gave me as much as she knew, which wasn't a lot but it was a good beginning to what has become a huge passion of mine. I now have several scrapbooks of my own on several family lines and also one of Bruce's family too. And I have a genealogy software program where I store my information.
I pestered many of my relatives over the past seven years for information that they could remember, for photos, documents, anything that I could use to glean information from and to put into my scrapbooks as momentos of the past. Looking back I remember the excitement and joy I experienced as the world of history opened up to me. Every new tidbit, every new contact discovered, helped to grow a history so rich and full I am in awe at how far I have come. A thirst for more knowledge and a hunger for more facts grew very quickly after my first few discoveries and I began learning where to look and who to ask and how to dig. I am proud to say I feel I have become a very good researcher, I have become very resourceful, and I never give up. Sometimes I have had to put a thought or intuition on the back burner for a while and come back to it; but I have always been able to eventually solve a complicated mystery. And the intense satisfaction that has come from that has given me a great sense of fullfillment over the years.
Another one of the joys of this endeavour is the wonderful group of people I have come to meet over the years, some have become life long friends and I have had the great fortune to meet distant relatives, some in far away places and some who were closer to home whom I came to discover had been living right under my nose for all my life.
One truly great friendship began in a genealogy class in 2002, a beautiful spirit, who went out of her way to help me out, to get me set up with a software program where I could store my information on my computer. She and her young daughter became close friends very quickly after that and she and I would visit and share our love of genealogy and we would travel together to a town an hour and a half away to do our research together, we would spend hours in the little library, reading microfilms, making photocopies and then when the day was done we would wearily make our way back home, discussing our finds all the way. Those were such great times shared together. Thanks for all your help and love, Tammy!
Most of my ancestors have passed on. And I came to discover that there were
many stories that were buried along with them. There were so few family members left who had the answers that I was seeking. There were few family photos passed down and whenever I would be lucky enough to receive any, I would be so grateful. I am fortunate to have been able to pass along my information to others in my family who are also interested in what I have accomplished. And I have been able to share my expertise with others who have an interest and have guided them and shown them where to look and have been able to use my resources to transcribe information for strangers researching their family history. Giving back, when one has received so much from others is a very rewarding experience and one of the things I cherish the most about this hobby.


One of the things I have been able to do is to gather photos from graveyards all over the world. The one above was taken by a very kind soul in Australia who actually went to a graveyard to take this photo of one of my ancestor's graves. There is a huge, worldwide community of people researching their family history and so many kind volunteers who do things like this to help out others who cannot make the trip themselves to the countries where their ancestors lived. There are many many of those who spend time transcribing documents and making the information available on the world wide web or by email to help someone out who has no money, time or options.
Most of my successes have happened within my Mother's family history. Her family came from the UK... England, Ireland, Scotland and some came by ships to find a better life in Canada.
My Father's family history on the other hand has been an almost impossible nut to crack. They came over from the Ukraine/Roumania and we know some of what happened after they arrived in North America but much of what occured over there is a mystery. Perhaps we may never know but with the constant barrage of information that has been made available it may only be a matter of time before we discover what has alluded us up till now.

My greatest fullfillment has been the strides I have made to breathe life into my ancestors. To put a human side to the pictures, documents, and information I have found over the years. To learn of their struggles, their achievements and their lives and just knowing they too were flesh and bone at one time, just as we are today, has opened up a whole new appreciation of the wonderful lineage I come from.

THE BLUE JAY...SUCH A PRETTY BIRD

I want to talk about the blue jay.... I think they are so pretty. We have a couple that come frequently to our yard. They are drawn to our yard likely because our neighbor's John and Debi feed the squirrels peanuts and the blue jays come to get their share since peanuts are one of the foods they like. I have to be honest that I never paid much attention to birds until we moved back to Ontario and because there are so many interesting breeds that come to visit I pay more attention now. I posted a photo above of the little red squirrel that comes around to stock up on peanuts. This is Debi's photo which I "borrowed" from her blog. This little guy is pretty tame now and will take the peanuts right from your hand. And he is quite the pig because he comes and gets as many as are offered and then buries them all over the place stocking up for winter. He has such a sense of entitlement where peanuts are concerned there is often a chase and a fight that ensues between the squirrels and the jays. I spotted some hi jinks just the other day with the squirrel chasing after one of the jays for stealing a peanut. They are very entertaining.
I never have my camera handy when I spot the jays while doing my dishes. They often come and sit up on the fence close to my kitchen window and look down to see if Debi or John have put out any peanuts. By the time I fetch the camera and get it set up the jay is long gone. They do not wait around for long and they are not amenable to posing for photos. I had to find internet photos instead. "Time Waits For No Jay".
Here are some facts about the Jay....
The Blue Jay is a noisy, aggressive, and intelligent bird. Common and wide-ranging, the Blue Jay is admired for its beautiful plumage, but its reputation is clouded by its harsh treatment of other songbirds, chasing them from feeders and sometimes stealing their eggs and young.

The jay is allied to the crow, the raven, and the magpie.

Resident east of the Rockies, from Canada to the Gulf of Mexico, but slowly encroaching westward. Preferred habitats include evergreen forests, farmlands, groves, and suburbs.

The Blue Jay's coloration is not derived by pigments, but is the result of light refraction due to the internal structure of the feathers; if a Blue Jay feather is crushed, the blue disappears as the structure is destroyed.

A group of jays has many collective nouns, including a "band", "cast", "party", and "scold" of jays.

Its food is sought both on the ground and in trees and includes virtually all known types of plant and animal sources, such as acorns and beech mast, weed seeds, grain, fruits and other berries, peanuts, bread, meat, small invertebrates of many types, scraps in town parks, bird-table food and rarely eggs and nestlings.

The blue jay lives in yards, gardens, woods, and parks; and prefers Oak trees or beech trees. Also all Blue Jays have strong black bills used for cracking nuts, and acorns and for eating corn, grains and seeds. They also eat insects such as beetles, grasshoppers, and caterpillars. Blue Jays have three toed feet which are good for wrapping around tree branches.

It sounds like you, Mr Jay, do not have a very good reputation. I don't mind, I still enjoy your visits.

ODE TO A CHRYSANTHEMUM

I love when the chrysanthemums make their appearance at greenhouses, garden centers, gardens and porches everywhere in the late summer and early autumn.
They are such a gorgeous flower. The colors are stunning. My favorites are the salmon, fuschia, deep burgandy, yellow and rust colored mums.

I love the pots of rounded mounds in vibrant hues.


I absolutely love arrangements done with pumpkins like in the photo above.
Or set next to a bench, or a tree or rock, or arranged esthetically on a porch or patio.
I love the look of many pots of different colored mums in a grouping.
They are such a lovely sign of autumn; what a shame they don't last longer.

Chrysanthemum

The rose is called the queen of flowers,
Surrounded by her sisters fair,
A lovely throng of beauties rare,
She holds her court mid summer bowers,
'Neath smiling skies of sunny blue,
Gayly they bloom the summer through
Brightening all the golden hours
But when the autumn days have come
Then blooms our sweet Chrysanthemum

As we watch the summer days depart
And the painted leaves in silence fall,
And the vines are dead upon the wall;
A dreamy sadness fills each heart,
Our garden seems a dreary place,
No brilliant flowers its borders grace,
Save in a sheltered nook apart,
Where gay beneath the autumn sun
Blooms our own Chrysanthemum

Ah! She is not a "Summer Friend"
She stays when all the rest have flown,
And left us flowerless and alone;
No singing birds, or blooms to lend
Their brightness to the autumn haze,
'Tis she who cheers the dreary days;
'Tis joy to know so sweet a friend;
No fairer flower blooms 'neath the sun
Than autumn's queen Chrysanthemum

Thanksgiving Weekend

It was a gorgeous weekend so we decided to get the yard and gardens cleaned up in preparation for winter. Last year since we had just moved in we didn't do much work in the garden, and it really showed this summer so there was plenty to do. But we persevered and got it all done and can now sit back and relax....NOT!

Above is a photo of one of our regular visitors.... Red Rocky the Squirrel. Our neighbors like to feed the wildlife and they feed the squirrels and chipmunks peanuts. This little guy is pretty tame and will take the peanuts from your hand. Here he is burying his prizes in our freshly groomed garden... teehee!
Here is Bruce, looking very Brucelike and pleased that his work is almost done.
One of my smaller gardens with perennials still abloom.
Bruce walking through the yard, surveying the situation.
Me, diligently raking up the beginnings of the annual leaf fall.
View of the house from the very back of the yard. Bruce is tinkering with his motorbike. We had a beautiful canopy of golden colored leaves. Last night there was a bright golden aura in the yard. Overnight we had a strong wind and some rain and we woke to a yard full of fallen leaves and very few leaves left on the trees...it is mostly over, just like that. It was glorious while it lasted.
A side garden above. The gardens were full of a mish mash of different plants... too full really so we did a lot of removing and transplanting and trimming of trees and bushes. I think it looks better and next year we will plant some new things......................................................................

Giving Thanks

For the hay and the corn and the wheat that is reaped,
For the labor well done, and the barns that are heaped,
For the sun and the dew and the sweet honeycomb,
For the rose and the song and the harvest brought home --
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

For the trade and the skill and the wealth in our land,
For the cunning and strength of the workingman's hand,
For the good that our artists and poets have taught,
For the friendship that hope and affection have brought --
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

For the homes that with purest affection are blest,
For the season of plenty and well-deserved rest,
For our country extending from sea unto sea;
The land that is known as the "Land of the Free" --
Thanksgiving! Thanksgiving!

~Author Unknown

The Parker House Inn

On Saturday we went to Sudbury for the afternoon and went to one of our favorite places... The Parker House Inn. The Parker House is a beautifully restored victorian estate. Here is a writeup I found which describes it better than I could .........................

Ideally located in downtown Sudbury, the award-winning Parker House Inn consists of two beautifully restored estate homes with a casual and informal setting. The warm and upscale décor makes it “SUDBURY’S ONLY COUNTRY INN…in the Heart of the City."

The Parker House’s 4 rooms and its 3 suites located directly across the street in The Fielding House are perfect for the business traveler, a romantic getaway or an extended stay.

One of the highlights of visiting The Parker House Inn is found in the warm, inviting atmosphere of it's six dining areas; the Parlour, the Den, the Porch, the Sun Room, and two garden patios. The charm of our elegant estate home has made the Parker House a favorite gathering place of locals as well as travelers. The Parker House Eatery boasts a very unique and relaxing atmosphere enhanced by fresh menu board. When you enter through the front door you are in a hallway with a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling above. From the hallway to the left you can either go up a staircase leading to guestrooms or you can enter the ordering area where the counter is with menu boards adorning the walls. After you place your order you choose which area you would like to sit in.

This is the parlour and this is where we chose to sit on Saturday. This would have been the living room of the house. There is a lovely fireplace in the center of the room and the front window is in a small alcove and it looks out onto the front of the house and the beautiful gardens.
The photo above is in the parlour also. The window you see looks out into another room that has a couple of tables and this room leads into the sunroom which is pictured below. The sun room is a really inviting room too and it has several tables. The sunroom looks out onto a private patio.
Each room is decorated with antiques and interesting bric a brac. Music is playing softly in the background and the house is warm and welcoming. The staff provides excellent service with attention to detail such as water served in a chilled wine bottle and chilled glasses. The coffee is made using an imported coffee roaster from Turkey. I could spend hours in any of the six eating areas. It really is a great way to lose yourself for a few hours.

We will be visiting again very soon!

THE POWER OF ONE

Do you sometimes feel lost and nameless....
Like one raindrop in the deep ocean blue.....
A snowflake on mountains majestic.....
A fleeting vapor from the morning dew......
A whisper hushed by competing voices.....
A haunting note in melodies sung......
Yes, we are part of a wondrous family.....
Yet still defined by the power of one!
One tree can start a forest.......
One flower can awaken the dream......
One song can spark a moment......
One bird can herald spring......
One smile begins a friendship.......
One laugh will conquer gloom......
One candle destroys the darkness.....
One sunbeam lights a room........
One breath brings life eternal........
One path will lead you home........
One step must start each journey..........
One touch can show you care..........
One hope will raise our spirits..........
One word must start each prayer.............
One voice can speak with wisdom..........
One heart can know what is true..........
One life can make the difference............
And that one is YOU!

--Author Unknown--