Tag Archives: nostaglia

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

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

 

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From the Original Photo Album of my Grandfather: John Andrew Lahey Some Catches from the good old Mississippi River at Richard’s Castle, Snow Road Vacation in the 1940’s

 

While on our Summer holidays fishing was a big part of the men’s activities.  Fish was also a source of food and we felt a real treat, many a meal was served, and everyone enjoyed it. Cleaning of the catch was so important as no one wanted a scale left on to be crunched on while eating.

I do remember worrying about my family out in the boat as Dad didn’t swim,  I never saw Grandpa swimming, now my Uncles did. These trips would take place before breakfast when other people were not yet out of bed, or sometimes after supper in the evening.  Pictures of the catch were taken with everyone beaming. Now this was when the fish were plentiful and also great for eating. No pollution in the waters then. Now writing this down I do have to admit the taste buds are waiting to be treated.

Off in the morning they would go on their merry way, getting ready was a big thing and the noise level could sometimes be high, what ever happened to respect for other people still sleeping.  It always amazed me that the fishing tackle and rods were not left in place for their morning fish. These were men on a mission, no motor for the boats you would row to your destination. On the way back, they  were rowing against the current which made it a bit more challenging . On most occasions they would fish the mighty Mississippi River for a couple of hours, and then come back to the stone house. I was never sure whether they had had enough fishing or were hungry for breakfast.  I do think the tummy had something to do with it though.

Now when Mom and Grandma knew they had caught a feed of fish, dinner menu was planned.  I can remember the flour, salt and pepper in a bowl and a mixed up egg to dip the fish in before pan frying.  I also remember the old Findlay Cast Iron Frying Pan for frying the fish, in those days one never thought about calorie count. As a child this was heavy beast to lift. Cleaning of the Fry Pan was a ritual that only a few knew how to do it properly.

Now it was hoped that there were still Lemons available to be squeezed on the fish.  I do know that Mom would buy a few at the Fruit Store and wrap them carefully for our stay at Snow Road as she knew there would be a few fish caught.  They would also make up their own recipe for what is now called Tartar Sauce. Oh it was just so good and MIND THE BONES, you don’t want to choke, was always voiced to the young ones.

On one particular day my Uncle was cleaning the catch down on the edge of water.  Grandpa always seemed to managed to be the expert on how this should be done. Uncle was well engrossed in his chore and doing a great job, when under his feet something moved.  It turned out to be a rather large snapping turtle who had been sunning himself close to shore and checking out his source of food. This was rather distressing as everyone knew that the Turtle could do some damage if he wanted to. There was lots  of advice given to him from others around, on how this situation should be rectified . After some discussion my Uncle was cautious and removed himself off the turtle’s back. I am sure he would have been safe as he was dropping the discarded parts of the fish into the water, and the turtle was having a real treat which was being prepared in bite size pieces just for him.  Come to think of it not many ever volunteered to do the cleaning of fish.

From then on when the fish were being cleaned, the shore line was checked out for  turtles, who might just be lurking around waiting for their tid bit treat.

Man those fresh Pickerels were great and they are still a treat!  Come to think of it, it has been years since I sat down of a meal of good pickerel.  Not so sure they are as plentiful today in the good old Mississippi River, in the 1940’s,  dream on Noreen.

From the pen of Noreen Tyers

 

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

relatedreading

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

Dreams Behind Closed Doors?

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Dreams Behind Closed Doors?

If you could live your life all over again would you change anything? What would you say to the people you loved and lost?

Last night in what seemed an endless dream; I spent time with an older couple who I just could not seem to place. I remembered the scent of my surroundings and the older couple and I talked about life, families, and how they missed everyone. They knew everything about me, yet I was frustrated that I could not remember who they were.  Were they people I had met at a garage sale and snapped pictures of? I could not remember, yet everything facing me at that point and time should have been clear as day.

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Photo of the F. J. Knight Co on South Street- Cowansville Quebec

The couple sat on a blue couch covered with a a thin plastic cover and the Life magazines on the coffee table stared back at me. They asked me how I was feeling, and I told them that I was fine. Both of them told me that they had shed many tears watching me go through life and felt helpless. I looked into the woman’s eyes and suddenly I remembered. I was talking to my grandmother – but how could that be? She had died almost forty years ago, and how was she able to speak to me now?

My grandparents told me that I had made many wrong turns in life but I was now on the right road. Grammy beckoned me to approach the couch where she hugged me and we broke into tears. She told me to dry my eyes, go upstairs, and rest before supper.

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This is the same door that was on the F. J. Knight building in Cowansville that is now in my home.

I climbed up the familiar orange painted wooden stairs and opened the upper floor door. Cold air slapped me in the face like it used to when I was a child. They never turned the heat on the second floor and only used small space heaters at night. I went into my grandparent’s rooms and sat on one of the twin beds. I could smell her Evening in Paris perfume in the air and the sun shone through the closed pink curtains. Sitting on the worn yellow chenille bedspread, I looked at the ceiling and remembered the day my grandfather died just outside this room.

My grandmother had helped him from the very bed I was laying on to the bathroom one September day and he lost his footing. I heard her scream and I tried to drag one of the oxygen tanks up the stairs, but it was way too heavy. Grammy frantically hovered over his now lifeless body and begged him not to die.

As the antique travel clock clicked loudly on the sideboard I attempted to give my grandfather mouth to mouth resuscitation. After a few minutes I felt his last gasp on my face and knew he was gone. Mental doors shut for me that day he died and it took years for me to understand that once a door closes, another one opens. But, as in my case, I was so stubborn looking what seemed forever at that closed door that I just didn’t see the one that opened for years.

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The mail slot and door bell ringer

There didn’t seem to be any closure to the dream after I awoke, and many hours later I looked at the calendar on the fridge. It was September the 27th, which was thirty five years ago to the day they had torn my grandparents home down to replace it with a more modern building. My father had salvaged the front green door that day that was to become a family reminder of what once was, and years later I brought the door back to my home where it still stands guarding the basement.

Last night in a dream my grandparents shared their love with me once again. Mistakes are meant to be made so you can learn from them, and I would not change a thing about how I handled my life. Love is to be spread far and wide, not contained, and their memories will live through me for the remaining days I have left, along with what went on daily behind closed doors. So each day always remember to always open a door, as it may lead you to somewhere unexpected, and every single day is the perfect day to open a new door.

 

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My Grandmother Mary Louise Deller Knight- Cowansville, Quebec who raised me.  I only had one picture of her and thanks goes out to Denis Ducharme for the pictures.

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Last thing I ever  want to do is glorify my family, but I am putting this here so my Grandchildren will see their ancestry down the line.

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Former alderman and deputy mayor of Cowansville and campaign committee member for former Quebec Member of the Legislative Assembly Jean Jacques Bertrand for the District of Missisquoi from 1948 until his death in 1973 who was also the 21st Quebec Premier.-Ville de Cowansville

 

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The Streets of COWANSVILLE Quebec

KNIGHT Street : Arthur Knight fut échevin de 1958 à 1967. La famille avait un commerce d’électricien.–Ville de Cowansville

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Grandfather Frederick J. Knight (centre)- President of the Cowansville Branch of the Canadian Legion (Branch No. 99)

1945–Organized only last March 14 (1944), the Cowansville Branch of the Canadian Legion (Branch No. 99) has become one of the most active of the Province’s Legion branches. Originally formed with 20 veterans, the organization has grown to 65 in a short period of less than a year, and is now engaged in mapping plans for the re-establishment of veterans of World War II. Legion Colors were dedicated on October 8, 1944 at an impressive ceremony in the front of the Heroes’ Memorial High School. 

Plans for the erection of a Legion Memorial Hall after the war are presently under consideration, and will include a cenotaph built in a section of the hall, for various veteran and community affairs. This structure will be built as a living memorial to the Cowansville boys and girls now serving on Active Service. The Heroes’ Memorial High School was erected as a memorial of those who fell during the last Great War. Legion officers elected for 1945 include: President, F. J. Knight; First Vice-President, A. G. Scott; 2nd Vice-President, R. Brault; Sergeant-at-Arms, H. Pugh.–Ville de Cowansville

 

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July-August 1952

Cowansville Soft Ball League

Barker: row from left to right: Eugène Lacoste, Carl Cotton, Paul Matton, Waldo Cleary, manager, Arthur Knight. Bottom Row, same order: André Gingras, Roch Pépin, Mr. Laliberté, mascot, Edmond Talbot, Charles Veillette and Maurice Chabot.–Ville de Cowansville

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Seven 1953-Soft Ball League

4-Barker: row from top to right: Arthur Knight, Eugène Lacoste, Waldo Cleary, Romeo Matton, Paul Matton, René Lebrun, manager. Bottom Row, same order: Jean Jodoin, Herman Dubuc, Donald King, mascot, Robert Thibodeau and Blair bowling.–Ville de Cowansville

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

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.

relatedreading

90 Day Fiance and Mail Order and War Brides

Sometimes You Need to Just Walk Your Potatoe

Hobos, Apple Pie, and the Depression–Tales from 569 South Street

Ashes to Ashes and Spins of the Washing Machine

The Days of Smocking and Spanish Bar Cake

empty-box

Here we go Carleton Place– Mark Your Calendars–

 

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Join us and learn about the history under your feet! This year’s St. James Cemetery Walk will take place Thursday October 19th and october 21– Museum Curator Jennfer Irwin will lead you through the gravestones and introduce you to some of our most memorable lost souls!
Be ready for a few surprises along the way….
This walk takes place in the dark on uneven ground. Please wear proper footwear and bring a small flashlight if you like.
Tickets available at the Museum, 267 Edmund Street. Two dates!!!
https://www.facebook.com/events/1211329495678960/

OCT 28th
Downtown Carleton Place Halloween Trick or Treat Day–https://www.facebook.com/events/489742168060479/

Here we go Carleton Place– Mark Your Calendars–

October 28th The Occomores Valley Grante and Tile Event–730pm-1am Carleton Place arena-Stop by and pick up your tickets for our fundraiser dance for LAWS. They also have tickets for Hometown Hearts event at the Grand Hotel fundraiser

 

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