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Okay.... Here's how it goes! Mr. Local Septic Sucker came on Tuesday and performed miracles on the septic bed ensuring that the bathroom facilities are now 100% again in Hillsdale.
You will realize what a relief that was when I tell you we are at least 7 miles from the nearest public washroom. Now.....
You would think that would be the end of it wouldn't you?
Sigh!
Not a hope! My dearly beloved brother Poge (Lawrie), and my equally dearly beloved hubby Marcel, decided to fix an issue which existed before my purchase of this house in 1986.
Now...
I have a double sink in the kitchen.
Being a southpaw, the left hand side is my working sink, and the right hand side is my 'sterile' sink.The problem was, that when the jet pump kicked in to empty the laundry tubs in the basement, I had a two foot geyser shoot up through the drain of my 'sterile' sink. NOT the tiniest bit ideal, as I was forever rubbing, scrubbing, pouring boiling water and wiping it down with Javex. Today Poge drove the nearly 3 hours down from Kincardine, and on arrival he and Marcel spent an hour strategizing the campaign of attack. The result?
ABS bits and bobs all over the house... Clanging and banging in the basement!
Then...
The ABS drain under the kitchen sink falls apart..
The ABS under the kitchen sink is put back together
Back up to the computer to choose more bits and bobs to buy..
Lightning/ inspiration strikes..
Plan 'B' is decided upon....
A decision is made to use the bits of bits and bobs which have been stored all over the house and barn for years (other plumbing jobs).. Can't use the toilet
Can't use the sink.... More clanging and banging and banging and clanging and sawing and filing and banging.... A few whoops... Ahhh!
The bits and bobs are all gone..
The toilet can be flushed again...
The kitchen sink drains nicely.The jet pump comes on and no 'Old Faithful' erupting from the drain. Life is good! Marcel has gone down to the local 'Freddies Chip Wagon' to get us each a double cheeseburger with home fries and gravy. Like I said... Life is good. (And I don't even have to wash dishes.)
Tags: Leaks And Geysers
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Grumpy
Posted On 07/07/2015 10:02:53
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Okay!
Here's how it goes!
1) Although we are 30 hours driving time away from the closest forest fires in Saskatchewan.. the smell of particulate smoke still kept me awake most of the night...(3rd night).
2) Hillsdale is a wee small hamlet stuck in almost the middle of nowhere; we have..no grocery store..no groggery..no gas pumps..no restaurant..no pub..no variety store/ dépanneur...no sewer system. We DO have town water for what it is worth.
3) We 'uns is country folk.
4) My septic system has crapped out. (Day 2)
5) No biggie.. it doesn't need replacing..just pumping.
6) Mr. Local Septic Sucker is arriving at 5:30 p.m. with the 'Honey Wagon'.
7) I am tired! I am irritable (bitchy)! I want to be able to relax in quiet contemplation, and complete assurance in my throne room and that is out of the question.
8) I want to have a nice hot bubbly soaker bath to soothe the pain of my severe fibromyalgia and Osteo-arthritis, and that is out of the question. (I don't do shoes or regular clothing because of pain).
9) I want to run my dishwasher/ wash some dishes, and that is out of the question.
10) It will cost me about $450 ....GRRRRRRR! 
Tags: Tired
So it goes like this.
Made a nice batch of savoury scones for brunch with scallions, shallots, diced garlic, extra sharp chedder, dill weed and a few secret ingredients from the witch's pantry.
Cooked 'em up...
Enjoyed them mightily.
Yummy scrumptious!
Then...
Was sitting here minding my own business....
Catching up on some history/genealogy/news/graphics etc...
When the mousetrap snapped shut under the sink.
Marcel goes into the kitchen to collect the cadaver, and...
Meets Chippie coming out from the kitchen and dashing into the den.
He had apparently climbed up the downspout behind the corner round-about from the basement to which obviously he has gained access.
Tabby appears from nowhere and the game of hide and seek commences.
Under the computer table...
Behind the couch
Behind the grandfather clock..
Back under the computer table.
The above repeated ad nauseam.
Marcel jumps up to open the door to the porch..
Chippie runs back into the kitchen and disappears from whence he came.
Tabby spends the next hour looking for him.
It isn't even May yet.
We still have the odd patch of snow for crying out loud!
We're not even into the season yet!
Enough already!
Tags: Cooking Chipmunks Spring
Good morning, one and all from Hillsdale. Thank you one and all for the congratulatory notes on the Featured Member status.
They were truly much appreciated.
Thank you all as well for the Birthday greetings. Again truly appreciated.
Here in Hillsdale, Spring is attempting to make an entrance, although today we are under a freezing rain warning with mixed precip and possible snow overnight.
A slow awakening this year.
Looking forward to the warmth to chase the bone aches away.
Once again..
My heartfelt thanks...
Heather
Tags: Thanks
I'm writing this today to ask for any information that any NOTH member may have on the early history of Oro Township, Ontario, Canada. The Oro-Medonte Township History Committee is looking for anecdotes, family stories, memories and photographs particularly pre-1950 pertaining to the African Episcopalian Methodist Church on the corner of the Old Barrie Road and the 3rd Concession of Oro Township. Of particular interest are photographs showing the church prior to the circa 1945 restoration, and any pertaining to any earlier restoration, as well as photographs or historical documents pertaining to Elder Mark Bush and particularly of his house, which stood on Lot 11, 6th Concession of Oro Township. The AME Church is a Canadian National Historic Site, and the Committee is interested in writing a second book on it's history.
The church was build in 1849 by black pioneers who were awarded land as service to the crown during the war 0f 1812-14. The first time that land was specifically awarded to Black Settlers.
The first settlers arrived circa 1819.
If you or any member of your family are descended from either the Scottish, English or Black settlers of early Oro Township, I would be pleased to accept any information you would be willing to share.
This is a project near to my heart, as my father maintained the church from 1947 until his death in 2003, and he and several other township residents are the only reason the building is still standing.
If you have information you would like to share please message me, and I will help you liaise with the Committee.
If you are interested in the story of the church the first book is online and available at this link:
Included are some anecdotes from my Dad.
http://www.ourroots.ca/e/toc.aspx?id=4340 Below is a picture of my Great Uncle Alf (Albert Walter Hutchinson) and his friend Elder Mark Bush at the Oro Fair circa 1909 
Tags: AME Oro Township Black History
 
Good morning sibs, cuzzes et al.. Well here in Hillsdale, summer has had its last gasp.
It blew out of town yesterday in a wind storm which threatened to blow the roof off the house.
All structures are still standing; at least they are standing as well as they were before the wind anyway. We are now in what I call the 'Brown Month'. As I age, this time of year becomes my least favourite. It wasn't always this way. Fall was a time of excitement for me as a child growing up on the 'Farm on the Fifth'.
It was the time of year we buzzed the wood to heat the house in winter, butchered the hog, picked the apples, and had great bonfires to clean up the leaves and branches left after the wood was cut; a time to dig the potatoes, carrots, turnips and parsnips for winter storage, and go picking butternuts. Fall was also a time for neighbours.
It was a time of community effort.
A time for socializing while working.
The same group of men would rotate from farm to farm helping each other with the fall jobs. We were lucky in our neighbours, and in the fall, two particularly, bachelor brothers whom in the interest of privacy protection, I will call Grizzled Jack and Lazy Watt would appear at the farm, along with Uncle Murray and his buzz saw to cut the wood.
Although Poge and I weren't very old, we were expected to do our share.
My favourite part was standing at the saw with Watt feeding the tree trunks into the tray.
Uncle Murray had a rule for kids..
There was a line you couldn't cross, as buzz saws were a dangerous tool, and many a farmer lost a digit in the pursuit of firewood for the winter.
I think I probably crossed the line a few times, as I can remember Uncle Murray telling Watt to 'keep an eye on that child'.
It was usually a raw cold day, but as kids we just didn't seem to feel the cold.
We were right in the thick of things, and probably underfoot for the entire day.
Ah youth.
The best part of the day would be when the men would take their break and stop for sandwiches and tea.
Watt particularly preferred talking to working.
In the days before recording devices, he could give you a minute by minute description of the life of any man, woman, or child in Oro Township.
An avid gossip with a wonderful memory.
I often wish I could have taped those conversations, as once he died a lot of oral history died with him. My favourite fall excitement was butchering the hog.
Jack and Watt would always be on tap for this job also.
I suspect I was rather a blood thirsty child.
The pig once slaughtered, bled, and gutted was immersed in a barrel of scalding water by means of a whippletree inserted through the back ham strings, allowing the men to slide it in and out of the slanted barrel.
Once out, the scraping would begin to remove the bristles.
As the pig cooled, more tubs of hot water were thrown in the barrel, and in, and out and scrape would begin all over again until there were no bristles left on the pig.
Once hair free the cutting and wrapping would occur on a scrubbed pine table.
I found the entire process fascinating, and if I behaved, Dad might let me trace the blood path through the heart and name all the arteries and valves.
I told you I was bloodthirsty.
The best part of butchering the hog was the fresh pork for breakfast the next morning.
The worst part was dry curing the ham and bacon.
Coarse salt, brown sugar with pepper placed in a wash tub..Add the ham well dried and rub well with the salt mixture. Every time moisture beaded on the surface, the rubbing would start all over again.
Once the ham remained dry, it was cured.
A process which took weeks.
Now while the ham was delicious, the process did nothing to give one a pair of delicate lady like hands. The autumns of my youth were redolent with the smell of frosty apples, earthy carrots and potatoes, The unique smell of butternuts, and the wonderful aroma of pork cooking in the oven of a wood stove.
Today, as I look out the window at water drops hanging off the drab green cedar branches in a world coloured brown and tan and grey..
The 'Brown Month' before the snow makes things bright again....
I will daydream of red flannel shirts, and blue coveralls, rubber boots, the smell of apples, pork and nuts, and hear the whining of the saw.
And wish I could talk to Watt again..
Just once more.
Tags: Fall Farming
Mayday! Mayday!
Calling all units!
Hillsdale outpost reporting..
We are presently under attack!
Repeat!
We are presently under attack!
We are taking heavy bombardment from the air.
Many enemy units observed.
There is a possibility this defensive position will be overrun.
We estimate the enemy outnumber us two to one..
Scouts have identified it as the Red Unit which is attacking our position!
Until now we had assumed no Reds in this quadrant.
Repeat Reds are attacking!
Situation critical!
All personnel are fully engaged.
They are lobbing spruce cones and apples
Repeat!
Spruce cones and apples are incoming.
No reported casualties
But reinforcements requested.
Request anti aircraft units be re-tasked to cover this location.
Mayday! Mayday!
Tags: Red Squirrels
Okay then.... Here's how it goes..... Y'all know I have fibromyalgia right? And.. Y'all know that anything that touches my skin hurts, right? Y'all know how I hate shoes and boots! So... Once upon a time about 25 years ago, (give or take a year)... I bought a red cotton jersey nightshirt. Think of the top of a pair of men's winter underwear. Sure.. It had a cute little flower embroidered down near the hem on one side.. But basically it was a 4 button men's red underwear shirt. Now it sometimes happens over the course of time, that as things mature and age they can become very religious. And so it was in this case... My nightshirt took up religious orders and became very holy. What to do? Well.. I have searched the stores for the past 20 years looking for its twin.. I have searched the winter catalogues...
I have searched the spring, summer and fall catalogues I have personally contributed hugely to Google's corporate success with the amount of on-line searching I have done... But no luck anywhere. Sure.. I found some cousins, but they just did not totally fit the job description... Then the light bulb lit up! Sister Kate sews... So I phoned her in Calgary. She agreed that if I sent out my old nightshirt which now more closely resembles a cloth you would use to check the fluid levels in your car,.. She would disassemble it.. Use it as a pattern, and.. Make me a new one. So giving due consideration to the ways and means (particularly the means), I carefully folded what was left of it, placed it in a brown kraft business envelope and sealed it with duct tape. Now granted.. The local Postmistress was not terribly enthralled with the appearance... She wanted to charge parcel price for the mailing, but.. Having successfully slid it through an envelope slot, she relented and charged us on weight alone... And off it went to Calgary. Well... I got a phone call from Kate on Friday last, and between giggles she told me to expect a parcel. Now you have to realize that when Kate giggles, I become extremely suspicious. I'm never quite sure what to expect when that happens. Well.. I got an email yesterday telling me that my parcel was at the postoffice... Went down to pick it up. It was heavy... Carefully wrapped in brown craft paper, and neatly taped with the correct tape... Opened it to find? My old nightshirt had come home, and.. Beneath it were two lovely black nightshirts and a pair of red plaid slippers. Now, if you all will excuse me... I'm going to finish drying my hair, and Take a little trip upstairs... To my nice warm little den behind the wainscot and the little round door.
Tags: Insomnia Fibromyalgia Nightshirt
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