Tag Archives: love

Samantha Mitchell –Warrior

Samantha Mitchell –Warrior
Samantha Mitchell
October 13, 2020  · 

The number of women expected to get breast cancer in her lifetime: 1 in 8

The number of women expected to be diagnosed with Metastatic Breast Cancer (MBC) in her lifetime:Unknown

There is no data and statistics recorded for those of us living with stage IV. When we progress from early to late stage it isn’t recorded. We want more research, but we don’t even have the basis to found it on.

I’m fighting tirelessly to create stage 4 awareness. We need you to be an MBC ally – it shows you understand, will advocate and support #MBC.

Last night I shared Jeff Mitchell’s Facebook post about his wife Samantha’s passing. I had put up a post of my own, but later took it down— it is not what Samantha would have wanted. Not being able to sleep I was up until 3 am reading what she had written in her blog and on her Facebook page. Sammy would not have wanted us to call her an angel like I did last night– even though she was. She would have wanted me to keep spreading the word about breast cancer, I know that. I know she would not want us to cry, but insist we all carry on and continue her cause. But, my eyes are still red and puffy missing someone I didn’t know that well, but yes, I knew her heart well.

The first time I met her was in a line at the IDA Post Office. She came up to me and said, “Hi Linda!” I laughed and asked her how she knew me. She said, “People have told me, you will know her when you see her!” I guess she was right, but I was so impressed with our initial meeting that it reminded me to tell her a story I wrote about a pink frypan I had bought years ago to support Breast Cancer Awareness Month. 

Anytime that I glanced at it I thought of all those that have been ravaged by this horrible disease. No matter how hard I tried, I could not bring myself to use the pan. I did not want to scorch the sides, mimicking cancer invading the body–nor did I want to get the pan dirty. But then I asked myself if cancer was clean. If the pink colour faded from washing, would the hope of a cure fade too?

I looked at it day after day, and thought that if I didn’t use it, I was giving up hope for the pan, and for the people that suffer from breast cancer. Finally I took it down and laid it on the stove. I watched the butter melt with tears in my eyes. I cooked slowly with it, and thought about how silly I had been. I use it everyday now in celebration for those I do not know, and for those I do. Sammy smiled when I told her the story and I told her I would keep sharing her story, which I did, and will continue. After all, if you don’t have faith, then what do you have? Absolutely nothing. No cures, no hope, and and in my case–an unused pink frying pan.

Samantha Mitchell is in Carleton Place, Ontario.

For seven years Samantha Mitchell had metastatic breast cancer and it never stopped her once. Even though she went through hundreds of rounds of radiation and chemotherapy, multiple craniotomies and dozens of hospital stays she carried on her advocacy for the breast cancer community. She wasn’t afraid of anything anymore and cancer didn’t bring her to her knees; it brought her to her feet. Whether you’re a mother or father, or a husband or a son, or a niece or nephew or uncle, breast cancer doesn’t discriminate and today Jeff and Joyce Mitchell’s family mourn the loss of a daughter-in-law and Sammy’s husband Jeff mourns the loss of his wife.

Sammy, you were braver than you believed, stronger than you seemed, smarter than you thought, and twice as beautiful as you’d ever imagined. I knew that the first time I met you. I know you would want the world to see what breast cancer does so I am putting up all kinds of pictures. If Sammy was here she would say,

”Never give up–life is worth living”, and as Sammy and I both know–scars are actually tattoos with better stories.

Linda Seccaspina, July 5, 2021

The family asks in lieu of flowers donations can be made to Rethink Breast Cancer , which was an MBC charity close to Samanthas heart.

Samantha Mitchell is in Carleton Place, Ontario.
June 9 at 4:05 PM  · 

Cancer has allowed me to appreciate how much love and support I have around me. It has given me a sense of worth and accomplishment with the success of @turningthepageoncancer. This year, it has also allowed me to have some stability so I am able to enjoy “me” time. I’m thankful for all of this. I still don’t ever want you to tell me “everything happens for a reason” though 😬

Samantha Mitchell

February 4


Samantha Mitchell
October 25, 2020  · 

Why I Fundraise For MBC click

A Word About Birthdays

A Word About Birthdays
1966 Albert Street Cowansville Quebec

July 24, 2020

Today another year has gone by and next year I will enter into another decade that begins with the lucky number seven. Frankly, due to my family’s health history I never thought I would live this long, but I have, and have always vowed to make each year count.

This is the only birthday photo I have, and I have to thank this wonderful woman from Cowansville, Quebec, Agnes Rhycard, and my grandparents for getting me to the year 1966. There is Linda with her “Parent Trap” hair and some suit she made out of broadcloth teaming it up with bare legs and sneakers. Next to me is my late sister Robin, and you can tell by my face how much I hated birthdays even then.

I have always believed a day dedicated to your age shouldn’t matter and you need to celebrate every single day. We all know time never returns. Sometimes I wonder if I feel like this because I never really had a childhood, and was raised with the upbringing of keeping a ‘stiff upper lip’. The only childhood birthday I remember is when I was 6 and I can still see a swan cake and many friends under the old apple tree in the Albert Street backyard. That memory will last in my mind forever.

My family is planning a celebration tonight and that is what means the most to me. Being together– and being my regular Beverly Goldberg self. I have changed this year in some aspects and I don’t know if it’s the COVID-19 isolation or what. I don’t mean to be a Beverly Goldberg twin, but I guess it’s always been my way of caring. This week my daughter-in-law had some wise words for me:

“Maybe it’s just better you don’t know what goes on.” and she is right. 

So that’s my new mantra, and when one of my car enthusiast sons has this big smile on his face because I have the OPP’s  “You are going this fast” machine on my front lawn, I am not going to even question what he has in mind. It’s better that I don’t know.

I get up each morning thankful to be alive and am thankful for my community and the history I research and write about each day. I am thrilled to represent my town as a councillor and listen to people and try and help. Granted I quickly learned that I can’t change the world, but sometimes being like Beverly Goldberg does come in handy. I am so honoured to know so many people, and there is no reason to wait a full year to say thank you for being in my life. We should be grateful that most of us are fortunate to celebrate our birthdays once a year knowing that back in time they celebrated their birthdays because the average age of death was 35-40 years.

When I was 16 I wanted to be 18. When I was 18 I wanted to be 21 and after that it stopped. Today I am reminded that as a young hippie in the 60s, or was it the 70’s, I can’t remember anymore– I had chosen words for my father on his birthdays. I would constantly remind him of my belief that people over the age of 30 should be sent to farms. Well Arthur Knight never forgot those words and on my 30th celebration he handed me my birthday card and asked me when I was leaving for the farm. Touche! I now live and celebrate one day at a time.

So, I only have one wish for my birthday– and that wish is YOU. To my friends and to all the people that read me every day, once a week, or once a month. I just want to celebrate this day with all of you in my life. I’m getting older, I’m getting wiser, (that could be out for debate) and I am getting stronger, but most of all I sail my daily boat with your love. I am so glad all of you were born and we get to celebrate life together. Thank you for being in my life.

Tears– Memories of Hank Williams — Alan Clouthier

Tears– Memories of Hank Williams — Alan Clouthier

The other day I asked readers what song brought tears– Today I received this from Alan Clouthier

In response to your question about a song that brings tears. As I mentioned on your post “The First Fall of Snow” the song is heartbreaking. If your not familiar with it here aware the lyrics. My father would play this song on his felt topped 78 rpm record player. He noticed one time it made me cry so he would not play it if I was around. Vividly recall the yellow and black MGM on the record label.

Author’s Note-

I have to agree with Alan. It is not fun to be motherless any day of the year, but sometimes you have no choice in the matter. Is one ever ready to lose a mother? Mine died of cancer when I was barely 12. Some days I feel I missed out on so much, but because of a kind neighbour named Agnes Rychard in Cowansville, Quebec–a little of my mother was returned to returned to me. To all these women who took the time to befriend a young girl or boy in their time of need I am sending you my heart. If your doors had not been open we would have never become part of your “kitchen table family”. Mine was a table that was filled with comfort food, conversation, accompanied by the songs of Hank Snow and Jim Reeves playing in the background– and that I will never forget.

The First Fall of Snow Hank Williams

I talked with a stranger, so sad and forlorn

His garments were sackcloth, all tattered and torn

He told me a story, of sorrow and woe

His heart went to heaven, at the first fall of snow

He spoke of his angel, a dear baby girl He loved ev’ry footstep, he loved ev’ry curl But she went to heaven, just one year ago

The angels came for her, at the first fall of snow

He still had the dolly that she used to love

He held and caressed it and gazed up above He whispered,

My baby, you’re waiting, I know I’ll bring you, your dolly at the first fall of snow

And there as I listened, my eyes filled with tears

I knew she was part of his happier years

His frail body trembled, he spoke soft and low

I’ll be with my baby at the first fall of snow

I patted his shoulder, my feelings to hide

He couldn’t know I was crying inside

He smiled as we parted, ’cause he didn’t know

That we lost our baby at the first fall of snow.

He Said-and– He Said! Oh Let the Song of Words Play!

Come all my dear companions and listen to my song–Songs of Clayton

Does Carleton Place Have the Number 1 Small Town Song?

Linda’s Dreadful Dark Tales – The Sad Song of Billy and Clementine Valentine

Sending You Love Light and Laughter for the Season

Sending You Love Light and Laughter for the Season

Memories of 2013 Lake Ave East– “music was added this year and there are 10 songs and about 10,000 flashing lights and over 60 extension cords. Thanks Perry– you did a great job!”


I have always thought to myself that if your home has the most Christmas decorations, you better be giving out full-size chocolate bars on Halloween. It’s not that I don’t like Christmas lights, but I can’t seem to find any reference in any holy books about a house covered with millions of lights like Christmas Vacation. But, maybe there is just something that I am missing.




Years ago when my late husband Angelo decorated our home on Lake Ave East for Christmas I learned to live with it. Why does one have to learn to live with it? Well in the Seccaspina household we take Christmas lighting seriously, and when you put up  Christmas decorations in our family it came in stages. Each stage was as important as the next.



Perry 2016– and so it began and like his Father things seemed to multiply.


There was the stage where I sat in the car with the motor running in October while we loaded up the trunk like there was a heck of a sale at IKEA.  Then there was the Pre Christmas Light sales and After Christmas Light sales, and believe you me, our family never missed a one.

They say that the prettier the Christmas lights on the outside, the more dysfunctional the family on the inside. I hereby apologize to anyone that was looking for an extension chord in our area weeks before Christmas. I apologize again that you had to buy the love of your children with one inflatable Christmas lawn decoration at a time because of the lack of extension chords.



Christmas Light season 2013 at the Seccaspina house on Lake Ave


When it was about midway November I began to think that the neighbours who left their Christmas lights up all year were geniuses. The Christmas lights had begun the tradition of being strung out in the foyer like snakes. All these light strings in Rubbermaid containers were detangled with love and then detangled again and then finally plugged in.

I would just shake my head as I watched Angelo get upset when a strand of Christmas lights didn’t work. Sometimes I’d see him accidentally ball a string back up and toss it in the same container so it could get him mad again the next year. I never questioned him during Christmas light season, and I always thought a box of Christmas lights should come complete with coupons for couple counselling.

It was amazing to me that a computer the size of a city block could fit in your pocket yet a whole strand of Christmas lights still goes dark when one lonely bulb burns out. What’s up with that?



15 Dec 2012 Seccaspina House on Lake Ave

I am also here to dispel the myth that Christmas lights use up a lot of power. I was told by Ange years ago that your toaster used more power in a single use than Christmas lights would running all night long. This is the beautiful thing about modern LED technology, or so they say.

The main difference between men and women is that women can remember the backstory for every Christmas decoration, and I will remember Christmas Light decorating season on Lake Ave for the rest of my life.  Maybe one year it might happen again.




Which brings us to 2019.

Since Angelo passed away in February of 2014 youngest son Perry has taken over the challenge. Actually he did the last year 2013 that we had lights on our Lake Ave home as Angelo was very sick. I am proud to say that Perry carries on his Dad’s love for Christmas–just not in this yard anymore, but at his own home. This year his Christmas Legacy of Lights has almost 40,000 LED lights and his creativity on this Christmas light masterpiece will boggle your mind. I marvel as a mother would how he has not fallen off the roof, but he has told me he has that mastered. I still worry.

So please come see Sophia’s Light Show once again this year because every moment is brought to you by love. Love for a father that is greatly missed but the tradition is carried on. Thank you Perry!

Thanks go to Brian Turner from Hometown News for writing about Perry in this latest issue.



The tradition begins once again this year- Sophia’s Animated Christmas Light Show Sunday December 16th at 6. The light show of over 33,000 lights will be on EVERY night from 6-9. Don’t forget to tune into 88.3 Griswold FM.

Please feel free to share and spread the word!!

267 Stonewood drive, just off 9th line in Carleton Place.


Merry Christmas ❤️




Perrys 2015


Perrys 2016

The Story Behind the Christmas Lights on Stonewood Drive

In Memory of The Man Who Loved Christmas

Because You Loved Me…..

Because You Loved Me…..




It’s 2 am and I cannot sleep. I lie in bed after an emotional day tossing and turning and clutching the dainty necklace around my neck. It’s the only thing I have left besides 6 photographs that remind me of my late sister Robin. For months I have been putting off writing about what this necklace means to me and decided there is no time like the present.

My sister Robin Knight Nutbrown and Bonny Dover Burton were born on the same day in the Brome Missisquoi Hospital on January 28 of 1956. Our mothers were friends and her mum thought it would be nice if the two girls had matching necklaces. Through the years of sickness and family upheaval Robin must have misplaced hers, but Bonny still had hers and after 62 years she sent it to me.The gold necklace still glistens and the garnet is in great condition, so I knew that Mrs. Dover must have bought these necklaces at the local jewellers and not the five and dime. I wear it at least once a week because it helps me remember the good times and not dwell on the bad.


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Knight family 1957 Cowansville, Quebec

Robin and I were as different as night and day. Five and a half years between us she was the sporty gal, the equestrian rider, and I was the book worm, the dreamer and the writer. Robin wore great classic clothes and was thin and I was the chubby one and made all my own crazy clothes. She finished school and married the nice Anglican boy and had 2.3 children and I left home at age 15 ½ and became a fashion designer in Montreal. She was my father’s delight and I was my father’s disappointment. Different as night and day, but we shared a past that no child wants to grow up in.

When my Mother passed away, I was 12 and my sister was 6 and a half. We were at home alone a lot due to my father’s civic duties and as my psychiatrist at 18 told me I never had a childhood because I had to look after my sister. That was a textbook diagnosis, but I would like to think it made us stronger. We both grew up with strong wills, street smarts and survived just like that necklace.



1980s the late Robin Knight Nutbrown and sons Adam and Matthew


I protested the Viet Nam War and computers, professors and  discrimination at Sir George William University in Montreal during 1968. Meanwhile my sister survived back home and longed to get out on her own. Later on in life Robin fought everyone in Belleville, Ont. to mainstream her autistic oldest son, and even though hindered at each corner; she became a trailblazer for those in her area with special needs children. She refused to segregate her oldest son who was autistic and forced the school board to hire an extra teacher so her child could go to a normal school.  Robin never assumed everything was okay just because others were telling her that, and she volunteered each chance she could to monitor her son’s progress. Unlike some of the people she fought, her family was able to find the beauty and joy in Adam’s differences and he thrived. Because of the dedication of my sister, my nephew enjoyed school, graduated 1000 Islands Secondary School, and went to Boy Scouts for many years. He travelled to Alaska in later years with a local group and has held part time jobs where he is loved.

Sometimes I wish I had this necklace when I saw that she was dying from cancer years ago at age 40. But like the shiny red jewel strung onto this necklace she was too  proud to ever be anyone’s conquest, even cancer, and she valiantly fought it to the finish. Robin was  connected to me, no matter how different we both were. No matter how hard life was for us we did not run away from the struggle, we accepted it as it comes with all the handicaps and injustices.  I am the last one left now, and each day I am living for the moment. But thanks to Bonny I am walking around with a memory of her, a necklace of hope, an armour of sanity. But, at the end of the day, it has to come off– but no matter if the necklace is on or off– the love is still there and Robin, you will always be in my heart.

Thanks Bonny for the necklace.



Hallmark Moments Around Us This Week

Hallmark Moments Around Us This Week

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Number one

On Saturday Stephen Giles, originally from Carleton Place, and who now lives in Ottawa bought an oil painting at St. James Anglican Church Bazaar in Carleton Place. To anyone who wasn’t really looking, it could have been just another oil painting found on a White Elephant Table. But I have personally always believed that everything once had a story, and when Stephen showed it to me I became intrigued. The inscription on the bottom of the painting was signed “Roy F. Fleming” and I wrote it down thinking it might have some local interest.

The old painting might have been used just for the frame until he also showed me a ripped label on the back with only the words inscribed: “it was something grandfather had painted” showing.  When I got home I did some sleuthing and found out the late Roy Franklin Fleming and the late Bertha Elizabeth Hawley were the parents of Bruce Hawley Fleming who passed away in Almonte in 2010.

Bruce was also the husband of the late Agnes Hogarth– father of Ruth and her husband Ed Larmour, Carleton Place. I immediately recognized the last names and wondered if the grandfather of the Larmours could be the painter of this piece of art. The next day I posted the information on Facebook and the artist was indeed verified by the Larmour family as Roy Franklin Fleming their grandfather.

It’s one thing to have found the artist of an old painting, but it is another to have the whole story come 360 with a Hallmark ending. The finder of the painting Stephen Giles and the great granddaughter of the artist Megan Akey were reunited on Facebook thanks to Joanne Morris Samler who caught my posting. Stephen decided to give the old family painting to the great granddaughter as he said it would mean more hanging on her wall than on  his.

With one kind gesture you can change a life and gestures like this could change a world. Remember every act of kindness creates a ripple with no end. Thank you Stephen for helping to keep family history alive.

Author’s Note-sometimes I think things turn up when they do– as  a sign.

Image may contain: 1 person, smiling

    Stephen Giles

Read the rest here: Lost Family Art Found Creates A Hallmark Moment

So what happened?

Stephen reunited it back with Nathan Akey, Great Great grandson of the artist.– As Stephen says: It’s back in the family where it belongs.


Nathan Akey—Great great grandson of the artist.–Back in the family where it belongs.

Number 2



Sydney Perkins is with Tyren Babcock.

Does anyone know who this lady is? My boyfriend found it in the Tay River over the summer and we have been wanting to get it to the rightful owner, or the persons family!
The name is Maureen Ann Barzey, she was born June 14th 1937. If people could share to try and get this to its rightful owner that would be amazing!


So thanks to all of you this post was circulated around when I shared it.


Seems that the late Mrs. Barzey sadly passed away  in 2014. She was mugged and robbed in Carleton Place at the Bank of Nova Scotia several years ago. She had her wallet and money taken by a young man who the family searched high and low for it and no luck. Last week I heard from her brother, Ivor Bayley of Carleton Place.

Hi Linda,

Just to let you know the young couple came by on the weekend and returned my sister’s ID. They were such a nice couple and I told them the story of my sister and they were so interested. My sister had quite a life. Thank you for your help– Ivor

Author’s note;

This item had been lost for years, but again, sometimes I think things turn up when they do– as  a sign. This was amazing what happened, and I thank Sydney and Tyren for caring. This was amazing.


Image result for touched by an angel



Lost Family Art Found Creates A Hallmark Moment

Watch Hallmark Movies? Writer? This is What You Get….

We Don’t Live in Lanark County — We Live in Hallmark County

A Trip in the Carrying Case– Noreen Tyers

A Trip in the Carrying Case– Noreen Tyers




Linda, I recently got a new rescue dog Ruffy, he is a very tiny, black and tan chihuahua  dog and am writing some chronicles for him. I thought I would pass on the latest one.

A Trip in the Carrying Case

Now sometimes things do not always work out the way they should.  You find out that some are not really what they are cracked up to be.

These new fan dangle ways of doing things, you see my mistress thought she would try out the new Carrying Case.  She had left me a couple of times, and before she left she put me in my crate and gave me a cookie. Now for some reason this act, kind of annoys me and I start to raise a ruckus, I feel bad so I start to howl.  I hear my mistress taking the keys from her purse to lock the door, I DO NOT LIKE THE IDEA OF BEING LEFT. The keys do set me off, can you imagine she is leaving me and is she coming back? You see when a dog suffers through trauma, it does take a while to gain your confidence back after all I have had changes in the past few months.  When you hear the rattle of the keys you begin to wonder, am I going to left alone again, OH DEAR. That is the reason for the loud noises and to trust again, only time will tell.

Now this is the reason my friend Teri brought home the travel carrying case. The other day my mistress thought she would take me with her.  She put me in my travel case and attached the collar to the leash in the bottom. Now she took the time to put my sweater on to keep me warm.  I know she has a heart and is doing her best, but a dog’s got to do what a dog has to do and right now I do not want to be left alone. I know I will have to learn but for now I do this, people do notice and I will keep working on becoming brave.

Back to my carrying case.

The mistress will have to learn the best way to get me in the car, for goodness sake don’t load yourself down and carry to many things to the car, do the second trip. (You know I am finding these chronicles very handy as you see I think I get my point across.) My mistress does read the chronicles and she learns.  Sorry every once and awhile I get off track, She sets the case by the way with me in it, on the front seat next to her that is good I can look over and see what she is doing and that’s fine. Does she bother to take the grocery bags off the seat NO, can you imagine I am all off balance, Take Your Time Noreen, it does go better.  I wiggle a few times and she get the point, I am on a slant.

I had heard her phone and order some baking from the bakery, and tell them she would be by to pick it up.  We did not travel far and she parked the car, she says I will park here so you can watch what’s going on. Explain to me just how much can a canine see in a carrying case on the seat, absolutely nothing, ESPECIALLY MY SMALL BEING.   When will humans learn to put themselves in my place, OH WELL.

She tells me she will not be long, as all she has to do is pick up and pay, be a good pup and I’ll will be back in a Jig.  There I am, as I say a dog has to do what a dog has to do, I can’t see what’s going on GIVE ME A BREAK. I begin to wiggle and what do you know I got out of my case, it was a bit of a drag as I will still attached to the bottom of the case.  You have to realize I am only a tiny dog, but I am mighty.

It was a struggle dragging the baggage behind but I made it, THE WINDOW, up I get, what do you know I can now observe the goings on.  Well here comes my mistress she does not look at all pleased, “OH GOD THE LECTURE IS COMING”. What to do, What to do, can I make my tail, go in circles, I’ll try that might just distract her enough so the lecture does not happen.

Can you believe it did not work, she was upset, and she let me know it, now it did cause a bit of a problem getting me straighten out, but she managed, mind you her MOUTH WAS GOING.  I was placed back in my carrying case and placed on the passenger seat. She was annoyed with me and gave me the story about how I could have choked myself had I turned the wrong way and shortened my lead.

Can you believe she took me home, my trial run was not a good turn out.

I SURE HOPE I SOON LEARN HER HABITS, I guess it’s back to the crate again.




Just Me Growing Up in the Early 1940’s Noreen Tyers

Grandma and the Cute Little Mice– From the Pen of Noreen Tyers

Another Broken Bed Incident — Stories from Richards Castle — Noreen Tyers

Lets Play Elevator- Charles Ogilvy Store — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers

At Church on Sunday Morning From the Pen of Noreen Tyers

Jack’s in Charge-Scary Stories — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers

Adventures at Dalhousie Lake at the Duncan’s Cottages —- From the Pen of Noreen Tyers

I am Afraid of Snakes- From the Pen of Noreen Tyers

Hitching a Ride Cross Town — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers

My Old Orange Hat –From the Pen of Noreen Tyers of Perth

Out of the Old Photo Album — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers


Snow Road Ramblings from Richards Castle — From the Pen Of Noreen Tyers

Summer Holidays at Snow Road Cleaning Fish — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers of Perth

Snow Road Adventures- Hikes in the Old Cave — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers of Perth

Putting Brian on the Bus– Stories from my Childhood Noreen Tyers

My Childhood Memory of Richard’s Castle –From the Pen of Noreen Tyers of Perth

Grandpa’s Dandelion Wine — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers of Perth

My Wedding Tiara — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers of Perth

The Art of Learning How to Butter Your Toast the Right Way — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers of Perth

Smocked Dresses–From the Pen of Noreen Tyers of Perth

The Kitchen Stool — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers of Perth

The Flying Teeth in Church — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers of Perth

The Writings of Noreen Tyers of Perth

Memories of Grandpa’s Workshop — Noreen Tyers

Cleaning out Grandmas’ Fridge — Noreen Tyers Summer Vacation at Richard’s Castle

My Flower Seeds — From the Pen of Noreen Tyers of Perth

Odd Ironic Wedding Stories –Or it was Almost Lonely Valley

Odd Ironic Wedding Stories –Or it was Almost Lonely Valley


Story 1

A ceremony very unusual, at least in these modern days, took place in the Roman Catholic church in Perth on Sunday last. It was the public apology and penance of a young couple who, in defiance of the laws of the church, became wedded before a Protestant minister in the latter part of the season of Lent.

The Rev. Father most severely denounced them and their marriage some time previously, so had forbidden them entrance into the church and all communication with their fellow-Catholics, until they had undergone the trying ordeal of an open and public penance.

The young couple, as was natural, felt keenly their position before the large congregation present, but unflinchingly performed their imposed penance to the letter. After it was over they received the congratulations of their pastor and of their host of friends present
to witness the recantation.

The bride, the groom, the best-man and the bridesmaid,  and all members of the Catholic church, were all made to undergo the same punishment, and to renew the marriage ceremony in accordance with the tides of their Church.

Story 2
A contract marriage took place at Fresno, CaL, recently, the bride being
under age and unable to obtain the consent of her parents. John Hoffman
the man, is 26 years of age and Florence Rice, the girl, 15 years and 6
months. They agreed to take each other as man and wife, entering upon
that relation at once. If she so desires,the woman’s contract may be voided
when she attains majority.

Image result for odd wedding photo victorian era

Some Dating Rules

“Instead of that attention and consolation which her forlorn situation demands, the finger of scorn is…ever ready to be pointed at the antiquated virgin.”

“By preserving a dignified reserve in conduct, a forbearing silence on the subject of her wrongs…fulfilling as usual the daily routine of Christian and domestic duties, calm and unruffled — she will, at all events, strengthen her own virtues and elevate her own character. By such conduct she will also secure the respect and esteem of all around her, and possibly in time regain the heart of her husband.”

“A sensible woman, to preserve the peace and secure the affections of her husband, will often sacrifice her own inclinations to his.”

“Any unnatural performance of this act is apt to impair the health of the female, and many women have been seriously injured and rendered miserable for life by the beastliness of their husbands in this respect.”

As O’neill says, it was considered “in a man’s nature to go searching for a new version of the girl you used to be before you bore him seven children and made the comforts of his home the envy of the neighbourhood.”

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place and The Tales of Almonte


Marriage Records Lanark County, Ontario, Canada– Names Names Names

Till Death Do Us Part in Lanark County?

Taming of the Beckwith Shrew?

A Smith’s Falls “Frustrated Young Love’s Dream” Purdy vs Lenahan

Going to the Chapel? Hold on– Not so Fast!

Another Episode in Spinsterdom–The Armour Sisters of Perth

She Came Back! A Ghost Divorce Story

Slander You Say in Hopetown? Divorce in Rosetta?

Go Ask Alice – The Saga of a Personal Ad Divorce

Andrew Bell Jackson and Mrs. Love- Brother and Sister who Died Within Hours of Each Other

Andrew Bell Jackson and Mrs. Love- Brother and Sister who Died Within Hours of Each Other


 - Double Funeral For Brother, Sister . LANARK,...

Clipped from The Ottawa Journal,  04 Jun 1954, Fri,  Page 43–

Come and visit the Lanark County Genealogical Society Facebook page– what’s there? Cool old photos–and lots of things interesting to read. Also check out The Tales of Carleton Place.

Information where you can buy all Linda Seccaspina’s books-You can also read Linda in The Townships Sun andScreamin’ Mamas (USA)


Margaret Closs Lanark and Snow Road- Genealogy

Do you Know What This Hockey Sweater Was?

Families of Lanark County–The Family of John Rogers

A Settler’s Love Story

A Settler’s Love Story


November 1897

Twenty-one years ago, in the village of Glengarry county, a young couple plighted their troth, and agreed to share each other’s lives. But at the time it was understood that the engagement was to be a long one, inasmuch as the young man was determined to go west and seek his fortune.

He departed, and the maiden was left alone with her parents to gain what comfort she could from her sweetheart’s letters and a daily glance at his photograph, which was renewed each year. The months rolled on, and grew into years, and still Dame Fortune did not shower her favours upon the young Glengarrian. But his fiancee was willing to wait for him until the good time should arrive, and it came yesterday, when Matthew McCrimmon and May Urquhart were united in matrimony in this city by Rev. Mr. Evans. Time had changed them both, but had not altered their affections.

Mr. McCrimmon arrived in Montreal on Sunday from Seattle, Wash., and put up at the St. James Hotel. He sent word to Miss Urquhart at her home to meet him in this city, and then made all the arrangements for their wedding. The bride elect came to town yesterday morning by the Canada Atlantic train which arrived at Bonaventure depot at 11:30. Mr. McCrimmon was on the platform to meet his bride.

The years that had intervened since they had parted, were bridged by Cupid’s device, and the middle-aged man, who had left his sweetheart when a boy, at once recognized her, even though the score of years had transformed her from a fresh young lassie into a full grown woman. The meeting was a most affecting one. The couple repaired to the St. James, where they had dinner, and at four o’clock went to the clergyman, who compensated for all the years of separation by making them one in the sight of God and man. This morning they left for Rouse’s Point to visit friends, and will next week go out to the bridegroom’s home in Washington Territory, where, it is said, he is comfortably situated so far as worldly means are concerned.



The first Hotel St-James to grace the streets of Montreal was a house of great standing, a place where powdered beauties and important men sipped scotch in the grand ballroom. Built at the turn of the 19th century, the hotel’s main entrance faced the Bonaventure train station. Hotel St-James was noted for its comfort and elegance, a sanctuary for a distinguished clientele.





The Love Story of the Lanark County Brakeman

A McDonalds Corners Love Story

The Ghost Lovers of Springside Hall – A True Love Story


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