Tehkummah Talk & Times

“The Whistle”

The sky up above,

Wraps around me in blue,

With soft puffs of white,

Like spring lambs running through.

The tasting of spring,

Flavours my lips,

A green blade of grass,

Held in my fingertips.

Back to my childhood,

I blew on the stem,

The whistle so piercing,

I do it again.

Reviving the memories,

Of childish content,

I looked through my years,

Wondered where had it went.

They vanished as quickly,

As clouds in the blue,

I stand still recalling,

In memories review.

These small little glimpses,

Back into my past,

Just like the whistle,

I thought they could last.

You just can’t hold on,

However, you try,

I return to my house,

With a tear in my eye.

Pat Hall

May 12, 2020

Day 57: All or most of my poetry is like current or memory-activated. Well I got in big trouble over this one. Mom and Dad were down at the road putting a big gate in place. I was sitting at the road facing the door, killing time. I was in charge of the laundry. The old wringer washer style, remember this was 72 years ago? I blew a couple of shrieking blasts on the grass. Mom and Dad came bursting through the door out of puff. They had run the whole way up the long lane. They thought I had got my arm caught in the wringer. Were they upset? Did I get in trouble? We lived where Shirley and Ed Sagle now have their home lovely renovated since my childhood memories.

Day 58: “Hear us as we pray.” How lovely, I saw my great-niece’s Ava Jean and Leah on “Your Morning” Tuesday, May 12. Great singers. 

Darned if it isn’t snowing again! I’ll have to get the knitting needles out and make the hummingbirds long johns, poor babies.

I’m always behind anyway, right! But I did want to comment last week’s column and the “International Day for Nurses,” though I well imagine they may need more than one! 

I finally gave Noreen Leeson a call and got Reg on the phone too. I had been thinking of them. They had about as much news as I had to share.

Day 59: When you go out in public, don’t you feel like a displaced person must feel, or a person of another race who is not welcome? This has created another race of masked aliens. We are all suspects and it has also, in another way, made us all equal.

“Laugh, Live, Smile and Love. For what you get out of life, comes from what you put in it!”

But I’m losing it, I find myself laughing at the most insignificant things. This can’t be good, can it? Or maybe I’ve been missing things all along. I’m being creative in some ways, but the cold weather and the injured back has limited me even more! 

A morning chat with Al Ryan, roadside. He says their lifestyle isn’t affected that much as they are off the grid and on the land, anyway. Much easier adapting/not to COVID-19.

Margaret McGarthy stopped for a very short visit this morning as well. Strangers in my scenery, a nice change.

I am wondering what is wrong with my reasoning, after tears come to my eyes and I say “oh my God” about kittens found in garbage bags in a dumpster. I have been listening to loss of life right and left due to the pandemic, and yet it seems to roll off me. Do we lose all feeling or get so used to it, compassion yes and/or tears for someone we know or family, but animal cruelty?

I intended to comment on John Savage’s photos of the sandhill cranes dancing. It is just a wonderful “buck and wing.” If you have never seen it, you have missed a majestic show. 

I got a letter today with a wonderful poem enclosed about how would Easter come when churches were closed this year? This was from Elizabeth Ann (McPhee) Schweitzer of Michigan called, “How the virus stole Easter,” Seuss style. Thanks so very much.

The Community Garden and Tool Shed News, nice. A lot of folks are helping folks.

For some reason during “my incarceration” I have gotten addicted to “Blue Bloods.” Now I always liked “Magnum” maybe, but I really don’t like violent and graphic ordinarily?

Day 61: My tummy is rumbling. The Bougalvillea blossoms are falling. It’s almost 11, I’m still nightgowned, not usual as the days/time seems to be more fluid or I’m floating. 

Foggy overnight and rain, dark looking out, except for the brilliance of the many daffodils in bloom outside.

An earlier call from my care person, Sherry! I have to consider ordering food sometime today. Though a few days without wouldn’t harm. I’ve been playing cutouts a little, but different style than as a child. I’ve made nine books so far this past week.

Be careful with fires. We are dry. 

I just got off the phone. Cal called to tell me Anna Orford had died suddenly this afternoon. Threw me into shock. Then I called Dorothy Cronk, because of the Triangle Club connections and events, not knowing that Dorothy and Anna were related. You can learn something every day. I’m thinking of her family! They were so close, such a loving bunch, their warmth drew one to them.

Day 62: I actually have stuff to report for a change. The village of Tehkummah was in full clean-up and do mode. Dorothy and Lori cleaned and tidied the community hall yard and on 10th and Prov Road intersection. The dust/dirt was flying? Gardeners in full work mode (I’ll fill in the details when I find out what’s up). Lorie, Janice, Nancy, Tara and Skylar were working to prepare soil, Skylar playing her guitar too.

I enjoyed my ride to Providence Bay. A whole lot of people out in front of Sharon and Lyle Dewar’s farm. Looked like they were social distancing. In Providence Bay, the fish and chip place looked busy, made my mouth water thinking about it!

I stopped to say hello to the taxi guy from there, out the highway to Mindemoya. The drugstore where great-niece Victoria was at work. The grocery, a quick shop through. A quick visit distanced with Kathy Size, they are in the process of moving back to Sandfield. Another quick hello to Borden and Joan. Carol had supper on the table. It smelled delicious. They invited me in to stay. I wish, right!?

The March Marigolds were showing their yellow in the roadside ditches. I went back way to Carol’s and Earl’s, bought my supper and ate at the waterfront. The only activity, a pair of swallows. I felt like I had been away for a week. That was about a two and a half hour roundabout. 

Darlene Young’s mail always reveals created cards and this time, photo and news story. She’s making the bed mats out of milk bags. She and her friend do this at the Port Carling Community Centre (Legion). They are beautifully designed, wow!

Pat Falter sent me a picture of all the snow on her deck in Sudbury this past week. Elaine Peck sent a pass it on message “God with us” on this journey we are all travelling these days. And travellers too, roads seemed busy. Lots of folks out and about.

A painted bunting showed up on Facebook and in Janet McMurray’s yard. They are so beautiful and like us, lost ad misdirected!

Day 63: I did another roundabout today. Covered a lot of ground. First off I lost my scaredy cat Ginger. She’s only out usually about 10 minutes at the most. Now she can let herself back in. I checked the bedroom half a dozen times, no cat!

I saw Ron Anstice drive into his yard. I had a couple of cards to deliver (since earlier in the week). So, had a distance visit in the backyard, Justine is doing well.

Decided to go on a Ginger search around the town, yelling produced nothing. Driving around the same. Stephanie and her family were photographing baby foxes down the road. I circled, then left again. Stopped to visit at Janice’s for a minute to offer anything out of my garden for their wildflower garden. I have a lot of seeds too. Got an honourary membership, wow, to their group. I’ve forgotten the name! From there to Sister Susan’s for a visit on her deck (haven’t seen her for weeks), a piece of graham wafer pie (yum) and a coffee. Susan is developing a definitely Amish look. We watched the Orioles eat oranges and do flybys. From there to Sherry and Dave’s, only Dave was home, a quick stop. Also, a roadside visit with John Castelton, another fella I haven’t seen for quite some time. A short discussion on his business. He does interesting stuff.

A hello out the window to Paul who was mumbling at the gravel stones while raking roadside. And, oh yeah, my cat came back!