Danny's Doting(s)

  Queen's Line small farm times were wonderful, wonderful times. I miss them with a never-ending ache within me. I already missed them 15 years ago. There was a community spirit in that time gone by that cannot be even mimicked today. As those Gentleman Farmers were all gradually called Home, our way of life slowly but surely changed, and not at all for the better. Neighbours helping neighbours was a given, not an exception. If I could turn the clock back to those halcyon days of my youth and vigor, and wonderment of discovery, filled with so many shining role models, I would, and in a heartbeat. I miss the sound of cows bawling on every farm, gas tractors, square balers lunging, and neighbour farmers yelling "WHOA!!!" at the top of their lungs when the baler ran out of twine, or the knotter stopped tying, or a string broke. When a cloud lazily drifted overhead from the West on a hot summer's hay day, you knew the farmers up the road had been treated to its cool, refr...

Winters were harsh in the Upper Ottawa Valley. They could be brutal on the upper Queen's Line with its wide open, flat topography. A nearly never ending West wind and drifting snow and plummeting temperatures meant that we often just had to entertain ourselves at home. We would satisfy ourselves with the fact that the hazards of going to town out-weighed the benefits, so we stayed put. Our house was warm enough to get by. We only had oil heat, so we had to pay for every BTU. We just kept it livable. There was no work to have heat, but there was no over-abundance of that much-desired heat, either. We had one spindly line of poplar trees for a windbreak. That was kind of like having a piece of chain link fence for a water bucket. The Queen's line itself didn't always drift too bad as the West wind for the most part blew it clean. I used to say, "You don't need to shave in the winter on the Queen's Line; just step outside and get your beard blown off." No, go...

  I am tired of being told to keep my mouth shut because I don't toe the line. I just ended a 20 year friendship for that. I didn't like doing so. I didn't want to do so. It was his idea, not mine. My opinions and experiences were "$h!t", but his mattered. That's what tore it for me. I will not be cowed. I will not be marginalized. I will not be censored. Every opinion counts, even if it goes against the beloved, New Religion of, 'Just Line Up and Take It!' That's the constantly pressed home narrative of today, coming from the usual suspects that we long ago learned not to trust anyway. Have you not opened your eyes and taken a look around this past 18 months? Don't be fooled: Don't fall for the carrot on a string of 'if you do this, we can return to normal' or 'if you do that we can return to normal'. 'Two weeks to flatten the curve' has turned into a year and a half, with no letup in sight. Staying home didn't ...

  Life's path takes takes you on a lot of twists and turns. And lurches. You never know what's around the next corner.  Maxie entered our lives in a very unexpected way. I was at our friends Brenda's place, helping her with some tasks, and we went over to the other farm. When we got there, there was a pickup sitting in her driveway, near the house, blocking the way. She didn't recognize the truck. Trespassers were hunting on her property. I checked, and the door was unlocked and there were keys in the truck. She got out of my car and jumped in the truck and started it and moved it out of the road. I would have had it towed away, but she just moved it.  The two hunters appeared from behind the nearest line of trees. They had break barrel .22's, so they were hunting small game or birds, as I took it: without permission. I bristled, and said to Brenda, "Do you know these guys?" It's ON. I can't stand trespassers.  "Yeah". She started making ...