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IN THIS ISSUE

• Kate Brookfield starts a story about a recent trip
• Barbara Wear passes another milestone in her life
• Jack Peaker remembers Cora
• Howard Ayer writes a poem about the precarious American situation
• We bring you the honourable mentions in the lame analogies contest
• There are a number of sites to check out

Kate Brookfield begins her story of a

TWO-DAY TRIP TO YILAN COUNTY

The Earth Science Institute at Academia Sinica organizes an annual treat for the department. As Michael is a member of the department, he qualified for the subsidized price paid for out of department funds, but we had to pay full costs for me. Most clerical workers and technicians work long hours with few holidays and probably poor pay, so this was their special outing. Not many of the academics, including the director, could afford the time to come. Thankfully, we were not the only "foreigners," and we palled up with Gaorg from Germany, who speaks fluent English, and Sasha and his wife Marina from Russia. I already knew Marina from our Chinese class. The remainder of the group was Taiwanese, including the two professional tour guides whose job it was to keep us entertained every minute.

This year it was a two-day excursion to Yilan County, which is the neighbouring county, just south-east of Taipei County. We arrived at the Institute at 7:30 a.m. Two young women, our tour guides, ticked our names on their list. My name, the only one in English, was EEN BROOKFIELD. We were presented with our breakfast, a brown paper bag containing a McDonald´s egg muffin and take-out mug of cold tea. Coffee is hardly ever offered as a drink of choice. After messing about for over an hour, we finally got into the luxury coach.

The seats on the coach had all been allocated and the tour guides read out names and seat numbers. (This allocation of seat numbers is common in Taiwan. Even when you buy a ticket for the movies, you are given a specific seat and row number.) In deference to our age as the oldest in the group, Michael and I were given the "seats of honour" in the front. We were sitting on the bus waiting for it to get going when I felt a splash on my arm. I thought the rain was coming in, because it was raining again, but the liquid on my arm and clean white t-shirt was bright red. I jumped out of the seat and saw a red liquid dripping through the AC vent. Michael looked in the luggage rack and brought out a soggy brown paper bag dripping with what looked like blood. We hardly dared to look in the bag, wondering what we might find - a recently slaughtered animal, or worse, a human head! But it was only somebody´s McDonald´s take-away breakfast. I guess when we pushed our bags in the rack we must have knocked over the drink.

So they all had to wait for me while I went to the bathroom to try to sponge out the stain, to no avail. Finally we were on our way. After passing through the same tunnel through the mountains that we travelled on our trip to Hualien, we emerged into the coastal mountain area. All the time we were travelling, the two professional guides were talking and laughing non stop, using a hand-held microphone and running up and down the bus asking questions and playing guessing games.

Our first stop was in Yilan city to visit the Theatre Museum. The building looked a bit like a temple, but inside there were three floors of artifacts and displays about Chinese operas. There were models of famous characters, costumes worn, and a puppet theatre, where we could try our hands at using the puppets - not glove puppets, but the kind on strings that you work from above the stage, not below. The top floor had more costumes and an opportunity for us to dress up and, of course, take photos.

When we came out of the museum it was pouring rain and we all got soaked getting back to the bus. We continued on our way with more games and lots of talk from the guides. Of course, we hadn´t a clue what was being said.

Shortly after this we stopped at a restaurant and had a huge lunch. We sat at a large round table with a revolving centre part which was laden with many different dishes, and they kept bringing out more dishes. Fish, beef, pork, chicken in various forms, plus vegetables and of course, noodles and rice. Meals in China always end with soup, which is usually very watery looking with finely-shredded vegetables. It does not look very tempting, but tastes quite good.

Back on the bus, we had more games and entertainment from the energetic guides. Michael and I fell asleep as there was not much to see out of the windows except rain rolling down the glass.

We were woken up when the coach stopped and everybody got out. We were expecting to see something of interest. Instead there were four minivans, and everybody started piling into them. We were going to get in the van with Gaorg and Sasha and Anita, but were ushered to another van as once again, seats had been allocated. I suppose this method stops a lot of confusion, but we found it strange not to just sit where we liked. Then somebody realized that we hadn´t a clue what was going on and kindly informed us in English that we were going up the mountain as the bus could not make the narrow steep road.

As soon as we got going again, the driver played an audio tape which was piped to us at deafening pitch via a large microphone dangling near the speakers. It was far too loud and no doubt a very interesting description of the place we were going to, but when you can´t understand a word of what is being said, it is very distracting.. I was thankful for my MP3 player and enjoyed music of choice and watched the scenery as best I could through the steamed-up windows. This was just as well, perhaps, as the bottom of the valley below on the hairpin bends was shrouded in mist.

To be concluded.

Barbara Wear writes about

CHANGES

Over the past fifty years, my life has changed drastically. When I think about all the changes that have been made in the world, it boggles my mind just how much I have changed.

My oldest son just turned 50.... It is hard to believe that I have a child that old, although with my 70th birthday coming up soon, I know that is a reality.

As the mother of five sons, I see them all facing that half-century mark in the next few years.

The time has come for them not only to be parents but grandparents as well. That removes me from a generation. I am not the grandparent anymore. The change has come and I move one more step up. This year I became a great-grandparent, and another will arrive next year. This is just the beginning of another generation.

Yes, there have been changes on my life´s journey. When I look back over these past fifty years, there is not much I would change. This journey was designed for me, and I accept it.

Those of you reading this have also made changes in your life. I am sure you think of the past years and where you were and where you are now.

ED. NOTE: Yes, Barbara, time marches on for all of us. This week my son turned 57! How did he get so old so soon? And where does it leave us, when our youngest child goes over the hill? Hmmm....

Jack Peaker fondly remembers

CORA

In 1909, Cora found it embarrassing to drive a Jersey cow from the pasture along the street of Westboro in Ottawa´s west end, so when a cattle buyer jokingly asked, "How much for the cow?" the nine-year- old quickly answered, "$10, sir." "Sold!" said the drover, and led away the family milk cow.

It was a relief when Cora´s mother, Adelaide Story, rather than being annoyed at the transaction, was very supportive. Her father always agreed with Addie.

Cora, whose twin sister Elsie died of meningitis at nine months of age, was the youngest of the three very different Story girls. Alice, the eldest, gave the impression of being a school teacher, though her many widowed years were as a government employee. Elva was beautiful enough to be featured in the fashionable Mayfair magazine, and was the wife of Canada´s only Air Chief Marshall, Lloyd S. Breadner. Cora, with her outgoing personality, was the most popular.

Her best friend, Tina Turner, (born in 1899) looked surprisingly like her namesake, the popular singer born in 1942. Tina and Cora paired to compete in the Ontario Provincial Tennis Championships.Cora also played left wing on the Westboro Pets Hockey team. Sister Elva was on the team, along with the goalie, Dorothy Peaker, who would later become her sister-in-law. Adelaide Story was chaperone.

During World War One, Cora worked for the government in War Records. At the end of the war, she was 18 when veterans were returning to Canada, and it was inevitable that there would be suitors for the attractive Cora, among them a stock broker and a dentist.

Millions died in the flu epidemic of 1918. Cora accompanied Dr. Purvis during his calls on victims, administering medical assistance. The doctor recommended rinsing the mouth with brandy to kill bacteria following these difficult visits.

Morley Peaker, on returning from France after four years overseas, said, "Cora, you have grown up to be quite a young lady!" They were married on Christmas day in 1923.

Morley worked in the Auditor General´s department of the Federal Government. And on November 21st the following year, yours truly arrived on the scene.

Yes, Cora was my mother.

My parents acquired a lot from my grandfather Peaker and construction of a house on Thames Street was under way. Morley´s salary of $90 per month meant that Mom and Dad did the construction and during my first months, the sounds of hammering and sawing drowned out other noises around me.

Cora drove the family automobile but her many skills did not include good driving. I recall the Star car hitting the corner of the verandah of the house to avoid hitting a fantail pigeon. (We had several types.)

After four years, brother James Patrick was welcomed to the white clapboard house.

During the years of low government salary, we raised broiler chickens. They were killed, skinned, put into a cereal box or something similar, and Morley would sell them at his office. I remember I was skinning a chicken then the starting news was received that World War Two had been declared.

When Jim and I were barely in our teens, Father gave us 100 Buff Minorca (yellow) chicks. When they became hens, we used to sell eggs at about $1 per dozen to the neighbours, instead of having an allowance. Cora, with help from Marguerite to perform her housework, began working for the Federal Government in the Workmans´ Compensation Department.

Following Morley´s retirement, the farm at Manotick, 12 miles from Ottawa, took the place of the Thames Street address. It was here that on March 10th, 1966, that Morley had a stroke and passed away at the age of 72.

The big farmhouse was impressive but too large, so Cora acquired a neat little house on the Rideau River in Manotick. I truly enjoyed visiting there and a room on the third floor always awaited my arrival, first from Montreal and later from Guelph, between world travels for the Canadian Angus Association. Adjacent to a small shopping center, the house was convenient and attractive to visitors visiting Cora.

Her health remained excellent until the age of 81, when it was decided a nursing home was in order. She moved first to Carleton Lodge in 1990, and then to Kemptville´s Bayfield Manor, close to Jim´s Rideau Angus Farm. Her final residence was at Hilltop Manor Nursing Home in Merrickville. It was there on May 23nd, 1997, while I was at her bedside, that Cora passed peacefully away at the age of 96.

The unforgettable happy memories of Cora linger on for all who knew this remarkable lady.

Howard Ayer wrote this timely poem:

NOVEMBER MUSINGS

We´ve all voted, and now we know
How in the next four years we will grow.
But with a budget in bright red ink,
Some things are going to have to shrink.

The nation´s survived through far worse times, But we´re also looking at warmer climes.
Our energy use we must decrease,
So some activities we should cease.

There is no great move for sacrifice
So it will likely start with compromise.
Declare a victory in the "War on Terror" - Great sums were spent in obvious error.

The rich still don´t pay their fair share;
It´s about the poor that we should care.
Jack up the rates over one hundred thousand - There still will be plenty left for carousin´.

We comfortable ones should think downsizin´; It is not like taking ricin.
If we each made do with less
Our budget woes we could address.

The increasing wealth concentration
Has been terrible for my nation.
When most of the money is held by a few, It means that multitudes must just make do.

Easy credit has not been a boon,
Especially for those who find that soon
When income drops, they´re in the soup.
They may never be able to recoup.

Fixing this mess will not be easy;
Just facing the problem makes me queasy.
We can only hope that Barack Obama
Has more success than the Dalai Lama.

Here are the honourable mentions in the contest run by the Washington Post for the most lame analogies:

THE STYLE INVITATIONAL

The ballerina rose gracefully en pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant. (Jennifer Hart, Arlington)

The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife´s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM. (Paul J. Kocak, Syracuse)

The dandelion swayed in the gentle breeze like an oscillating electric fan set on medium. (Ralph Scott, Washington)

It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools. (Brian Broadus, Charlottesville)

Her lips were red and full, like tubes of blood drawn by an inattentive phlebotomist. (Greg Dobbins, Arlington)

He felt like he was being hunted down like a dog, in a place that hunts dogs, I suppose. (Russ Beland, Springfield)

The lamp just sat there, like an inanimate object. (Nanci Phillips Sharp, Gaithersburg)

You know how in "Rocky" he prepares for the fight by punching sides of raw beef? Well, yesterday it was as cold as that meat locker he was in. (Alan S. Jarvis, Fredericksburg)

He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up. (Susan Reese, Arlington)

She was as easy as the TV Guide crossword. (Tom Witte, Gaithersburg)

Her eyes were like limpid pools, only they had forgotten to put in any PH cleanser. (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)

She grew on him like she was a colony of E. coli and he was room- temperature Canadian beef. (Brian Broadus, Charlottesville)

Her pants fit her like a glove, well, maybe more like a mitten, actually. (Chuck Smith, Woodbridge)

She walked into my office like a centipede with 98 missing legs. (Jonathan Paul, Garrett Park)

It hurt the way your tongue hurts after you accidentally staple it to the wall. (Brian Broadus, Charlottesville)

Her voice had that tense, grating quality, like a first-generation thermal paper fax machine that needed a band tightened. (Sue Lin Chong, Washington)

Outside the little snow-covered cabin, a large pile of firewood was stacked like Pamela Anderson. (Meg Sullivan, Potomac)

A branch fell from the tree like a trunk falling off an elephant. (Jonathan Paul, Garrett Park)

Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two other sides gently compressed by a ThighMaster. (Sue Lin Chong, Washington)

The painting was very Escher-like, as if Escher had painted an exact copy of an Escher painting. (Joseph Romm, Washington)

Fishing is like waiting for something that does not happen very often. (Jim Seibert, Falls Church)

They were as good friends as the people on "Friends." (Katie Buckner,McLean)

Her breasts were like two mounds of flesh waiting to be compared to something. Something round. Perhaps some kind of citrus fruit. (Jerry Pannullo, Kensington)

He was as bald as one of the Three Stooges, either Curly or Larry, you know, the one who goes woo woo woo. (Bob Sorensen, Herndon)

The sardines were packed as tight as the coach section of a 747. (Tom Witte, Gaithersburg)

Her eyes were shining like two marbles that someone dropped in mucus and then held up to catch the light. (Barbara Collier, Garrett Park)

The sunset displayed rich, spectacular hues like a .jpeg file at 10 percent cyan, 10 percent magenta, 60 percent yellow and 10 percent black. (Jennifer Hart, Arlington)

And last: Joe was frustrated, like a man who thought his claim to fame was occasional appearances in a weekly humour contest, but in fact is known to millions as a stupid high school student who writes unintentionally humorous bad analogies. (Joseph Romm, Washington)

SUGGESTED WEBSITES

Bruce Galway points out that tires show the week and year of manufacture as they do size etc., so they can be checked to see how old they are. Tires sold as new can be very old, and can be dangerous. See the facts on this video: http://abcnews.go.com/Video/playerIndex?id=4826897

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For fantastic costumes, wild dancing, and primitive African music, check out the stage version of The Lion King: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RXSyJ4CeUXo&NR=1

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See a great idea for bringing water to parched communities with the help of playing children: http://arunaurl.com/2ki0

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To see a VW converted to electricity, with the option of charging the batteries with solar power, see http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4_lSxhTatUU&feature=related