Last Christmas, with my Toronto Maple Leafs clicking along about fourth or fifth in the NHL standings, Matthews netting goals in threes (it seemed) every other night, Ilya Samsonov looking like Johnny Bower between the pipes, and even Sheldon Keefe exuding confidence behind the bench, my daughter gave me a most appropriate gift. It was a Leafs blue T-shirt, complete with logo and an inscription.
“Just once before I die,” it reads. (more…)
About 90 minutes into the Christmas concert at the Baptist Church on Monday night, the conductor signalled his entire choir and solo performers to stand, his musicians to be at the ready. Instinctively, those who knew the music stood in the pews. Then, Tom Baker brought down his baton for the climax of the composition.
“Hallelujah!” the audience and choir sang in celebration together. “King of Kings, and Lord of Lords. Hallelujah!”
I am not a church-goer. But I still love Christmas traditions, and they include attending performances of George Frideric Handel’s masterpiece, the Messiah, presented every few years by our own Uxbridge Messiah Singers. (more…)
Pilot Don Rollins likely missed it on the first reading of his overseas certification as a bomber pilot in October 1942. It was three years into WWII, and the RCAF trainee from Estevan, Sask., had successfully completed his operational training to fly Wellington bombers in daytime and nighttime missions.
All the 22-year-old Canadian wanted, however, was to fly combat operations against the Germans. Still, at the bottom of the certification, his training officer had added a further endorsement:
“Night vision … Above average!” (more…)
It’s euphemistically called an “RFP.” But if you really want to get technical, it’s Section 3, under Article 2.6.3.4 of the Ontario Environmental Protection Act, and it says:
“Notwithstanding, any provisions herein, no person shall cause, permit or allow a fire to be set or cause, permit or allow a fire to burn in the open air…”
Just before Christmas, I grabbed my COVID mask and my wallet and visited the firehall to buy an RFP, a Recreational Fire Permit. It all began – a just before the second emergency lockdown over New Years – when one our daughters suggested I build a portable firepit so that handful of us (in the immediate family) could gather ’round a small fire on chilly evenings.
“Great idea,” I said. “I get right on it.” (more…)
I picked up the phone this week and called a friend. We hadn’t spoken since early in the pandemic. We’ve focused so much on the walls or masks between us and the rest of the world, that we’ve forgotten to reach out to close friends. So, I apologized for being so long out of touch. She asked how our family’s doing. I asked about hers. There was a pause.
“You know the toughest part of all this is?” she said. “No spontaneity. You can’t do anything spur of the moment.” (more…)
The big day is less than three weeks away. We’ve had plenty of snow (if a bit tamped down by this week’s rain) to keep things reasonably white until Dec. 25. All over town, homes have sparkled with flashing or cascading lights (and some with gaudy decorations) since we switched back to Eastern Standard Time in early November. And yet I’m still having trouble coming up with the right gift for some of my friends and family.
Me? I’ve found what I want for Christmas. I learned about it in the Globe and Mail a couple of weeks ago.
“A pond at the heart of hockey,” the story was headlined. “Nova Scotia property claims a historic tie to Canada’s game.”
And it’s for sale! (more…)
I found Christmas over in Port Perry last Sunday afternoon. I wasn’t alone. And, no, there wasn’t a sudden conversion in my life. But I was in a church. A few minutes after 3 p.m., last Sunday, I was invited to a lectern to initiate a fundraiser with these words:
“Marley was dead, to begin with. There was no doubt whatever about that. … Old Marley was as dead as a doornail.” (more…)
It’s been a while since we stopped to smell the roses, as it were. But a few weeks ago, just relaxing on our back porch, my wife and I sighed simultaneously. Aloud we recognized, despite the abundance of rain and the not-so-warm temperatures, and its rather clumsy entrance, that spring had finally, thankfully and delightfully arrived. But Jayne noted something I hadn’t noticed.
“It’s awfully quiet this year,” she said. “The sounds of birds aren’t there like usual.” (more…)
Last Friday, when the tributes, reminiscences and spiritual acknowledgements at our neighbour Ronnie Egan’s funeral came to an end, many of us retired to the basement hall of the church for conversation and, well, refreshments. There was lots of coffee and tea and something to tide everybody over. The banquet tables were laid out with veggies and dip, cheese and crackers, fruits and sweets and, of course, sandwiches.
“What else?” I heard someone say. “Ronnie wouldn’t have wanted it any other way, but to have egg-salad sandwiches.” (more…)
They are the most soothing and at the same time perhaps the most mysterious symbols of Christmas. They appear in carols, in the Bible, in Christmas cards and just about every nativity scene one could imagine. They are seldom quoted, but always acknowledged as trusted and worthy guides to a safe and protected place.
“And there were in the same country,” it says in the Book of Luke, “shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night…” (more…)