When the Great War came, Grandpapa George was an electrician in northern New Brunswick. He signed up to go to the trenches of France and served as a gunnery sergeant. Between wars he married Stella and they had 11 children, my mother being the last, born in 1939. WWII came along and he went to Drummondville to serve as a POW guard. He was well liked by his wards – they presented him with a chess set constructed from white and rye bread, shaped by mouth and hardened with shellac. (If you think that’s gross, you don’t know what the trenches of France were like.) He was a man that treated all he knew, regardless of their position, with respect. That is something I treasure about him and try to live up to every day. George will be one, among many, remembered this Wednesday. Wherever you are, try to take a moment at 11 a.m. to remember those who did what was asked of them to give us the peace we have.
I try to keep my musings limited to the goings on in Roberts Creek but the elephant in the room this week is the U.S. election. Has it been decided? Is the Cheeto in Charge cheating his way into office for another four years? A lot of water will pass under that bridge between when I submit this column and when you get it in your hands, but that’s the nature of a weekly. We need our 49th parallel to remain tight until things settle down in all the ways south of here, but I am comforted by the fact that some Texans believe there is nothing north of North Dakota. My heart goes out to my American friends and I hope better days are coming soon for us all.
In Gumboot Nation news: Tiny the pig was on a walkabout today, seen meandering down Lockyer Road for a bit, apparently not Penelope, who was home at the time. Lured back with a pumpkin, Tiny is safe now. A couple of years ago I was getting my mail when I witnessed a sheep booking it down the hill, then bolting in the general direction of Sechelt. I called 911, the dispatcher in Vancouver was amused.
Drum roll please! ... Ashley and Bjorn of Little Red Wagon Farm won the RCCA 1st Annual Pumpkin Contest with their 132-pound beast! A PLUMPKIN!
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Chaque 1er samedi du mois, c’est les Rencontres Francophones au Café Gumboot. Entre 10h et 12h, c’est l’occasion de parle pour rien dire de la vingte et fromage avec d’autres en français.
The plot thickens! I haven’t found the origins of the very official looking sign declaring “Slower Rd” that was highlighted last week but now someone has decided that it’s more important that they enjoy it all to themselves and have taken the selfish (and illegal, I am sure) step of removing it. Curiouser and curiouser.
