It’s Birthday Week for Hat and Pants! – The Canarican

I am a Proud Canarican …or at least I will be again once President Flubber and His Band of Lost Socks are incarcerated or incinerated (choose one), and Adults are back running our Pants.

To celebrate, I offer up this heavily researched, thoroughly accurate FAQ sheet listing the differences between Our Great Land, and Our Once Great Pants.

Most of the following was originally posted in 2015, when the world was a different place. There was cleaner air, prettier sunsets, better television reception, and more than enough Gummy Bears. All of that changed after the advent of the Man Bun and Robot Bingo Callers. No…wait…that was a dream I had after a night of fish tacos and Metaxa.

Never mind….

Unlike the Man Without a Country, I am a man with TWO countries. The Country of my birth, the United States of America, and the Country I choose to live in and love with all my heart, Canada.

Peter and Betty Get Ignited

My last column touched on the process of getting Internet and cable access at Chez Montreuil. As a lot happened after my press deadline, I decided this week to fill in the blanks for you, Loyal Reader.

GRAN’S CANADA HIGHWAY – EPISODE 1 by Jaimie Vernon

Travelogues can be a matter of personal taste, and I expect that this one is no exception. However, I’d like to think that setting my family’s road trips against the backdrop of Canada’s geographically challenging countryside, and history, will not only entertain but maybe, hopefully, inspire others to do the same. [once we’re free to travel again, of course].

Bob’s Mom – The Life The Love The Stories

It’s that time of year again.

This Sunday, we celebrate the first and longest lasting love of our lives. The woman who gave you life, protected you, encouraged you, unconditionally loved you, and even wiped your butt.

From the day you were born and 9 months previous to even that, she is the one force who gives and forgives, teaches and comforts, confronts and cares and metes out justice with a wooden spoon or a denial of dessert. …and regardless of your relationship with her, in the end, she is alive within you always, because she is your Mother ….

Peter Plays in the Past

This week I am going to write about some of the encounters I had while playing over by the Leacock Home. Having shared my column with 3 Orillia Facebook groups, I was pleased with the positive feedback. I appreciated the “great column” remarks a) but also the comments about reawakening long forgotten memories. Especially nice was reading the reactions of old friends. It was also interesting to read of at least one “dodgy character” whom I didn’t run into. (Maybe those people are cyclical in nature.)

Peter Takes the Byways and Back Roads

I experienced such a range of emotions writing last week’s column that I decided to take a look at another childhood play area of mine, one which the vast majority of you would probably not be familiar with. This will be a two part column because of the sheer magnitude of the subject, and this first part will deal with the physical characteristics of the area.

Roxanne Tellier – The Politics of Stupid

I know exactly how long I’ve been in lockdown, but what I don’t know is how long I’m gonna have to remain cooped up.

Peter at the Beach with Tadpoles, Trains, and Morgan James

This week, I’m going back to revisit the seemingly endless summers of my youth, when my parents were always going to be there and the only decision I had to make was which tee-shirt I was going to wear. Our house on Franklin Street was one of the most easterly houses in Orillia, mere metres from Lake Couchiching and about a kilometre a) from Moose Beach, so named because according to local lore, a moose had once been spotted there. (Thank goodness it hadn’t been a skunk.)

Roxanne Tellier – Easterish

My mother loved holidays – any and all celebratable occasions. She was the Holiday Fairy, sprinkling her magic dust on us, and making special days even more memorable with her joy and enthusiasm.

Bob’s Good Friday for Jesus – GREAT Friday for Amy

Just because Mother Nature has sent us to our rooms to think about what we’ve done, doesn’t mean we have to sit around and eat everything in the house, shave the dog, dress the cat up, or duct tape the baby to the bathroom door. Not at all.

While we’re home rearranging our sock drawers and seeing if we can build a mountain made out of mashed potatoes and some of the dead houseplants on the dining room table like Richard Dreyfuss did in Close Encounters, we can also reflect on some of the good things we have done in our messy, ungrateful, lives.

Today I celebrate. Not Jesus starting a three day vaycay in a cave after a forced march carrying enough timber to build a parking lot FotoMat kiosk, but the one thing I had something to do with in my life, that I am most proud ….

My daughter’s birthday is today, and to mark the event, I am re-posting this column as I do every year, to share my love for her with you and the joy she brings to me and everyone who knows her. Lots of new pictures, some brand new words …and as always …Lots and Lots of Love.
Love you Ames …you will always be the light of my life. – Daddy