Home  >> Stories  >> The Tale Spinner #2012-08

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IN THIS ISSUE

Kate Brookfield describes growing up in northern England We get letters from Betty Audet, Carol Dilworth, Jean Sterling, and Norma Patterson Jean writes about her adopted dog, Abby Carol Shoemaker sends a summary of 5000 years of history Catherine Green forwards a story of a not-so-dumb blonde From Lew´s News, some thoughts on growing old Irene Harvalias contemplates a dog´s life Sites are suggested by Bruce Galway, Carol Hansen, Catherine Green, Catherine Nesbitt, Irene Harvalias, and Pat Moore

Kate Brookfield writes about her childhood,

GROWING UP IN THE INDUSTRIALIZED NORTH OF ENGLAND

When I heard that the Taliban regime in Afghanistan banned kites, I was shocked. At the time, I had not read the novel or seen the movie "The Kite Runner" by Khaled Hosseini, so was not aware of the competitive nature of kite flying in that country. I could not see how such a fun activity for kids could be against the teachings of the Koran. I remembered with pleasure the fun we had flying kites. We did live on the coast so we could go on the beach where there was always a good noeasterly wind and a great expanse of sky without hydro lines to get in the way. Also, growing up in the post-war days, most of our toys were home-made and our kite was the best one on the beach, in my opinion.

My father made us a big round kite of a happy face - long before Walmart took the image as its own! He used the material he used as a marine engineering draughtsman. It was actually cotton heavily impregnated with starch, giving it a hard blue surface. My Dad brought home some of this material that was going to be thrown out and told my mother to boil it to get the cloth. I remember the day she put all this stuff in the old boiler. The cotton at the end was too thin and soft to be used for anything more than handkerchiefs. Even then, it was so fine, we soon blew holes in it! It also took a lot of boiling to get all the starch out and then the wash tub was all sticky. She only did it once.

But we had a lot of fun with this kite and when we went to the beach to fly it, we always drew a crowd of spectators. For more pictures of our happy times on the beach, click on http://arunaurl.com/4j8d.

This photo was taken on a lane at the back of our house. It shows my Dad holding the kite, my youngest brother, John, my sister Janet, and my childhood friend, Maureen. Maybe I took the photo? The "hill" in the background is actually the slag heap from the iron and steel works. When they tipped the hot molten slag at night it would light up the sky, which was known locally as the wagga moon. I think it comes from a place called Wagga Wagga in India, but I am not sure of the connection. When I came to Canada and first visited Sudbury, I was surprised to see that one of the local tourist attractions was to watch the slag being tipped. They even had the times of the tip listed in the tourist information leaflet. In my home town, it was not a tourist attraction; it was an eyesore.

All the slag heaps in the north-east of England have gone, as has the whole iron and steel industry. But when I was growing up at Seaton Carew in County Durham, the atmosphere was thick with smoke from all the heavy industry in the area and coal-burning fires in the homes. The iron ore came from the Cleveland Hills across the river Tees. The town of West Hartlepool was a "new" 19th century industrial town based on shipbuilding and the iron and steel works. They dug out the harbour between the old villages of Seaton Carew and old fishing port, Hartlepool.

The coal came from the many collieries in Durham county north of the area. From the mid-1800s to 1950s the area attracted a growing population, offering employment to the hoards of people, formerly agricultural workers, who had to move from small villages and estates after the enclosures and machines made land workers redundant.

But the natural beauty of the north-east, especially Durham county, was scarred by the powers-that-be in London making the north of England its dumping ground. The chemical company I.C.I. was another big employer in the area. It did, however, have good employee benefits, including making all its workers part shareholders in the company. However, its smoke stacks and pollution added to the unnatural colour and smell of the air. I can honestly say that I rarely saw a blue sky until I went to Spain in 1961, my first holiday abroad.

I am pleased to report that the area has now been restored to its original beauty, but the people have suffered great deprivation and still suffer from unemployment issues. The slag heaps have all gone and beenreplaced with soil and grass and now there are beautiful gardens along the north esplanade.

When I was a child, the whole area, parallel to the sea, from the north end of Seaton Carew to the iron and steel works at Hartlepool, a distance of about three miles, was used to store pit props for the coal-mining areas in County Durham. The wood used to come from Scandinavia and was stacked in square piles with a hollow in the centre of each square. This was to allow the wood to dry, and also as a fire prevention. My friend and I used to climb through the fence and play "house" in the squares of timber. Instead of one tree house, we had hundreds of log houses! We also collected sawdust for my friend´s pet rabbit.

Because of the timber deal, or for some other reason, the town used to get a gift of a huge Christmas tree from Norway every year. It was put up in the town centre outside the town hall. As we did not have many large trees, the sight of this enormous tree always filled us with awe.

In 1949, the whole timber yard caught fire and the fire burned for three days. I remember it was Easter weekend. We had been to the fair and came home late. One of the photos gives the date as April 28th 1949. The sky was an odd red colour and my Dad said, "There´s a fire at Seaton." I said, "It´s only the wagga moon." "The wagga moon doesn´t flicker like that. I tell you there´s a big fire at Seaton." He looked really worried, so we knew he must be right. My Dad was always right!

Sure enough, the road to Seaton Carew was blocked. Our taxi was not allowed to proceed and we ended up having to walk home. No cars or buses were allowed along the road. We kids were really tired after all the fun of the fair and were grumbling; then we saw and felt the fire. Pretty scary, but also exciting. (For pictures of the fire, go to http://arunaurl.com/4j8f)

One of the pictures shows my friend´s house. They had to be evacuated while the fire was burning. My other friend´s grandmother lived in the house next door, and the flames were practically licking her house. We ran up and down from her grandmother´s house to her mother´s house carrying her valuable ornaments. We felt very important!

The man next door to us had a greenhouse down the lane that led to the prop field, as we called it. (The same one in the kite photo). The firemen were going to knock it down, so he stayed in it for three days, slept there, and we took him flasks of tea. Apparently he did the same thing during the bombing in WWII. (Not many people sat in glass houses during the bombing!) My dad said he was nuts. But he had a rare grape vine that he cherished. My mum said he kept a keg of beer in the greenhouse!

My brother, Malcolm, was a new police cadet and he had gone to live in Jarrow, but was sent to Seaton on duty during the fire. That´s how we got through all the police barriers. It was the first time that I had seen my brother in his police uniform and I was very proud of him. But after the first day, the authorities were getting really worried. In spite of all the sea water readily available, they couldn´t get the fire under control. Apparently sea water rots the hoses, so they couldnt use it.

The result was an order for all children to be evacuated from the area. They still had war-time mentality. I had to go and stay with my auntie in West Hartlepool, while my sister got to stay with my grandmother in the south of Seaton Carew! I was annoyed to miss the fun. But that was when I saw the girl with St. Vitus´s dance in her nightdress on the roof of the house next door to my auntie.

We were lucky to live in Seaton Carew as we had a great expanse of sea and sand as our playground - after they removed the barbed wire and mines that were put down during the war! I was born the month war broke out in 1939, so for the first five years of my life we were not allowed to go on the beach.

My father was born in Seaton Carew and he told us stories about his childhood playing on the beach. He wrote a story that was published in the local paper about the night he saw the Zepplin go down in flames in the North Sea. He also remembers when there was an exceptionally low tide and they found Spanish gold in the rocks that were exposed. He told us some people made their fortunes before the Crown claimed the gold, but our family only got to tell the stories.

CORRESPONDENCE

Betty Audet writes: I had completely forgotten writing that article on ruins [which was reprinted in last week´s issue.]

Since then I worked on old barns. My small Minto Heritage Association produced two volumes of "Barns of Minto". I took a lot of the pictures and learned how to set them into text pages. There was also a lot of time spent collecting information on the barns for the text. Already some of those barns are ruins.

I was also very interested in Charles King´s report of Ottawa. I went to live there just earlier to work for the National Research Council. I too first stayed at the YM-YW, and my first apartment and last one were very close to it. But I did find a great cultural life, especially theatre, but also music and lectures.

Mike Pearson I had met as an old schoolmate of my father, while I was still a university student. Diefenbacker came to visit the Research Council and stopped by my desk, where I was working on an interesting report. The father of one of my apartment mates took us to the conference where the NDP was created.

Carol Dilworth wonders if the rules for hanging clothes on a clothesline have changed, because "that´s what I do when I hang clothes in the basement or on a rack on the back deck. I just copy what my mother did. In twelve years in the current house, I have never turned on the clothes dryer. I have no idea if it even works!

I´m in a "new" subdivision where clotheslines aren´t allowed. That´s why I use a rack on the deck and a clothesline in the basement. I miss the outside clothesline that I had at the old downtown house.

Jean Sterling comments on Charles King´s story about Ottawa: Ottawa is a beautiful capital with its dignified Parliament buildings, the Chateau Laurier, and the Rideau Canal with the tulips that were in full bloom when I was there. I remember when we crossed back over into the US that the border crossing guard asked where we had been in Canada. When we said that we had been to Ottawa, she remarked that Ottawa was the most beautiful national capital in the world. I agreed with her wholeheartedly. Ottawa was a friendly place too!

Norma Patterson writes: I can really relate to the clothesline story by Catherine Nesbitt.

My mother-in-law was the one who enlightened me to the fact that there was a correct way to hang out laundry; every comment was exactly what she told me!

Out in the country, back East, there was no need to wipe the line - but we did! We even washed the pins! It was so cold hanging out clothes in winter that we wore special white gloves (that we knitted, of course). And yes, that was on a Monday; Tuesday was ironing day, but that is another story!

I still have a line (in the house), a pulley that is mounted in a cupboard in my den. I open the slide door and stretch it across the room to a hook on the opposite wall. There I hang my tops, etc., that I don´t want to put in the dryer. I guess that tells you I am OLD!!

ED. NOTE: I am sure that many readers, including me, envy you and Carol those indoor clothesline. Those of us who live in apartments have few options for stringing clotheslines, and those of us who don´t have balconies can´t even use a rack.

Jean has a dog which she got from a snowbird who thought that "Abby" would be happier in the warm climate of Florida than in the colder north where she lived. Jean writes about

ABBY

It´s amazing how many people you meet when walking a dog. Today a fellow in a red pickup truck stopped and asked, "How´s the girl?" - and he wasn´t asking about me. We chatted about how Abby didn´t need to wear her pink sweater as the weather had warmed up quite a bit, and how dressed up she seemed to feel when she did wear it.

Abby loves to collect tummy rubs along the way. Today she saw a recently-arrived snowbird whom she hadn´t seen since last year, and greeted her like an old friend. The lady responded by giving her a nice tummy rub. Abby never forgets a good tummy rub - she has a memory like an elephant.

I remember years ago a very nice gentleman used to walk a dog around the neighborhood. I think he may have been a bit shy, but thanks to the dog, he talked with everybody in the neighborhood.

Unfortunately, Abby loves to get into waste baskets. I don´t know what is so fun about strewing Kleenex all over the place, but for some reason she really enjoys doing this. If I take her to the scene of the crime, she lags back - clearly doesn´t want to go in there and get chewed out. She KNOWS, and she acts guilty. I got some stuff that is supposed to keep dogs off furniture to spray on the baskets. When I tested it on her, she clearly did not like the smell, but she seems to be able to ignore it so she can experience the joy of littering the bathroom floor with tissues.

She used to get into the compost pile in the backyard. I got some granules to put around the compost to keep her out, and she would step over the smelly part to get in there and paw at the grapefruit rinds etal. I have been able to catch her at that and yell, "NO!" and "BAD!´ She has learned that the compost pile is a no-no, and if she heads in that direction I only have to say, "DON´T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!", and she will quickly change direction away from the compost corner. However, I never seem to catch her going after a waste basket. <Sigh>

ED. NOTE: If you have an idea about how to discourage Abby from rummaging in waste baskets, Jean would like to hear about it. All I can think of is a step-on garbage can, which admittedly is not decorative but should be dog-proof.

Carol Shoemaker sends this summary which should fill any blanks in your knowledge:

A BRIEF HISTORY OF TIME FROM 3050 B.C. TO 2000 A.D.

3050 B.C.- A Sumerian invents the wheel. Within the week, the idea is stolen and duplicated by other Sumerians, thereby establishing the business ethic for all times.

2900 B.C. - Wondering why the Egyptians call that new thing a Sphinx becomes the first of the world´s Seven Great Wonders.

1850 B.C. - Britons proclaim Operation Stonehenge a success. They´ve finally arranged those boulders in a sufficiently meaningless pattern so as to confuse the hell out of scientists for centuries.

1785 B.C. - The first calendar, composed of a year with 354 days, is introduced by Babylonian scientists.

1768 B.C. - Babylonians realize something is wrong when winter begins in June.

776 B.C. - The world´s first known money appears in Persia, immediately causing the world´s first known counterfeiter to appear in Persia the next day.

525 B.C. - The first Olympics are held, and prove similar to the modern games, except that the Russians don´t try to enter a six- footer with a mustache in the women´s shot put. However, the Egyptians do!

410 B.C. - Rome ends the practice of throwing debtors into slavery, thus removing the biggest single obstacle to the development of the credit card.

404 B.C. - The Peloponnesian war has been going on for 27 years now because neither side can find a treaty writer who knows how to spell Peloponnesian.

214 B.C. - Tens of thousands of Chinese labour for a generation to build the 1,500 mile long Great Wall of China. And after all that, it still doesn´t keep the neighbour´s dog out.

1 B.C. - Calendar manufacturers find themselves in total disagreement over what to call next year.

79 A.D. - Buying property in Pompeii turns out to have been a lousy real estate investment.

432 - St. Patrick introduces Christianity to Ireland, thereby giving the natives something interesting to fight about for the rest of their recorded history.

1000 - Leif Ericsson discovers America, but decides it´s not worth mentioning.

1043 - Lady Godiva finds a means of demonstrating against high taxes that immediately makes everyone forget what she is demonstrating against.

1125 - Arabic numerals are introduced to Europe, enabling peasants to solve the most baffling problem that confronts them: How much tax do you owe on MMMDCCCLX lira when you´re in the XXXVI percent bracket?

1233 - The Inquisition is set up to torture and kill anyone who disagrees with the Law of the Church. However, the practice is so unChristian that it is permitted to continue for only 600 years.

1297 - The world´s first stock exchange opens, but no one has the foresight to buy IBM, Xerox, Microsoft or Wal-Mart.

1433 - Portugal launches the African slave trade, which just proves what a small, ambitious country can do with a little bit of ingenuity and a whole lot of evil!

1456 - An English judge reviews Joan of Arc´s case and cancels her death sentence. Unfortunately for her, she was put to death in 1431.

1492 - Columbus proves how lost he really is by landing in the Bahamas, naming the place San Salvador, and calling the people who live there Indians.

1497 - Amerigo Vespucci becomes the 7th or 8th explorer to come to the new world, but the first to think of naming it in honour of himself ... the United States of Vespuccia!

1508 - Michelangelo finally agrees to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, but he still refuses to wash the windows.

1513 - Ponce de Leon claims he found the Fountain of youth, but dies of old age trying to remember where it was he found it.

1522 - Scientists, who know the world is flat, conclude that Magellan made it all the way around by crawling across the bottom.

1568 - Saddened over the slander of his good name, Ivan the Terrible kills another 100,000 peasants to make them stop calling him Ivan the Terrible.

1607 - The Indians laugh themselves silly as the first European tourist to visit Virginia tries to register as "John Smith".

1618 - Future Generations are doomed as the English execute Sir Walter Raleigh, but allow his tobacco plants to live.

1642 - Nine students receive the first Bachelor of Arts degrees conferred in America, and immediately discover there are no jobs open for a kid with a liberal arts education.

1670 - The pilgrims are too busy burning false witches to observe the golden anniversary of their winning religious freedom.

1755 - Samuel Johnson issues the first English Dictionary, at last providing young children with a book they can look up dirty words in.

1758 - New Jersey is chosen as the site of America´s first Indian reservation, which should give Indians an idea of the kind of shabby living conditions they can expect from here on out.

1763 - The French and Indian War ends. The French and Indians both lost.

1770 - The shooting of three people in the Boston Massacre touches off the Revolution. Two hundred years later, three shootings in Boston will be considered just about average for a Saturday Night.

1773 - Colonists dump tea into Boston Harbour. British call the act "barbaric," noting that no one added cream, nor were any crumpets served.

To be concluded.

Catherine Green asks

ARE ALL BLONDES DUMB?

An very attractive young blonde from Cork, Ireland, arrived at the casino. She seemed a little intoxicated and bet twenty-thousand Euros on a single roll of the dice.

She said, "I hope you don´t mind, but I feel much luckier when I´m completely nude."

With that, she stripped from the neck down, rolled the dice, and with an Irish brogue yelled, "Coom on, babbie, Mama needs new clothes!"

As the dice came to a stop, she jumped up and down and squealed, "YES! YES! I WON! I WON!"

She hugged both of the dealers and then picked up her winnings and her clothes and quickly departed.

The dealers stared at one another dumbfounded. Finally, one of them asked, "What did she roll?"

The other answered, "I don´t know - I thought you were watching."

Moral of the story: Not all Irish are drunks; not all blondes are dumb; but all men ... are men.

From Lew´s News, some thoughts on

GROWING OLD

As I´ve aged I´ve become kinder to myself and less critical of myself. I´v become my own friend. I´ve seen too many dear friends leave this world too soon, before they understood the great freedom that comes with aging.

Whose business is it if I choose to read, or play on the computer till 4:00 o´clock in the morning, or sleep till noon. I´ll dance with myself to those great tunes of the 40s, 50s, and 60s, and if at the same time, I choose to weep for a lost love, I will.

I´ll walk the beach in a swimsuit that´s stretched over a bulging body, and will dive into the waves with reckless abandon if I wish to, despite pitying glances from the jet set. They, too, will get old. I know I´m sometimes forgetful but there again, some of life is just as well forgotten, and I´ll eventually remember the important things.

Sure, over the years my heart has been broken. How can your heart not break when you lose a loved one, or a child suffers, or even when somebody´s beloved pet gets hit by a car. But broken hearts are what give us strength, understanding, and compassion.

I´m blessed I´ve lived long enough for my hair to turn white and my laughs forever etched into deep grooves on my face. So many have never laughed and so many have died before their hair could turn gray.

As you grow older it´s easier to be positive. You care less about what other people think. I don´t question myself any more. I´ve even earned the right to be wrong.

So I like being old. It has set me free. I like the person I´ve become. I´m not going to live forever but while I´m still here I´ll not waste time lamenting what could have been, or worry about what will be, and I shall eat dessert after every meal if I feel like it.

Irene Harvalias sends these reflections on

A DOG´S LIFE

It´s just dawned on me....

My dog sleeps about 20 hours a day.

He has his food prepared for him. He can eat whenever he wants.

His meals are provided at no cost to him.

He visits the doctor once a year for his checkup, and again during the year if any medical needs arise. For this he pays nothing and nothing is required of him.

He lives in a nice neighbourhood in a house that is much larger than he needs and he is not required to do any upkeep.

If he makes a mess, someone else cleans it up.

He has his choice of luxurious places to sleep.

He receives these accommodations absolutely free.

He is living like a king, and has absolutely no expenses whatsoever.

All of his costs are picked up by others, who go out and earn a living every day.

I was just thinking about all this, and suddenly it hit me like a brick:

OMG! I think my dog is a member of Parliament!

RECOMMENDED WEBSITES

Bruce Galway sends a link to a video of Simon Pierro doing magic tricks with an iPad, one of his specialties. The language used is German but the effects are universal:

Bruce also sends the URL for a look at the largest private car collection in the world. A new museum in Tacoma, Wash., will house this unique collection:

Carol Hansen is interested in this video of a man who turned his entire life into an experiment in self-sustaining, off-the-grid survival. At the Field Lab in Texas, John Wells uses new technology and old-fashioned craftsmanship to get by in Big Bend:

Catherine Green recommends this site for an extraordinary slide presentation from the BBC of societies of humans around the globe:

Catherine Nesbitt sends this link to a site which purports to decide what kind of an American accent you have:

Catherine and Irene Harvalias both recommend this video of Golf Brooks singing about senior moments:

Pat Moore sends this link to a video of the Pilobolus dance troop creating a fantastic story in silhouette:

New Yorker cartoonist Liza Donnelly tackles global issues with humor, intelligence, and sarcasm. Her latest project supports the United Nations initiative Cartooning For Peace.

To check out the features of the "freedictionary", which changes daily, go to