“Twenty years ago, it wasn’t the law of the land, so to speak, in farming, but it was used in a big, bigway,” Rice said. “Farmers still scan it, but they don’t completely sink their teeth into that information. There are so many other sources of pretty doggone good factual information that’s on target.” Now, the National Weather Service has become the go-to place for weather forecasts. Because of this, the almanac’s audience has begun to change. Duncan said they are getting more urban people who are just curious about the publication.
It’s the bread and butter of the friendly rivalry between the Farmers’ Almanac and the Old Fanner’s Almanac, which for almost 200 years have been making long-term weather forecasts. And they’re pretty good at it, both claiming about 80 percent accuracy. This spring, for example, both publications predict warmer temperature with around normal rainfall through June.
Thanks to Shelly Marriner for all these lovely memories.
We had a wonderful time yesterday with Aunt Dorothy We visited the old house on Munro Line off the Tatlock Rd that was built in 1850. This is where our Great Great Grandfather built their first home on the 100 acres that was granted to them. ( They were the very first people to be granted land in that area).
On the same property, is the newer house that Aunt Dorothy’s Uncle Huey built (Grandpa Munro’s brother). Grandma Yuill moved back with her parents to this house just before her youngest brother Uncle Wilbert was born. Aunt Dorothy was also born in this house and she lived there until she was nine months old.
She then moved to the house on the Darling road with Grandma and Grandpa Yuill. Grandma Yuill had Aunt Eileen,Aunt Alma, and Aunt Blanche (they were all born at home) and they lived there until they moved to the house on Old Perth Road. My mom was the only one born in the hospital in 1945. ( I hope I have gotten this all straight ) Aunt Dorothy said to us while we were there ” This is a nice old place, and I don’t know, if it is because I was born here, but I have an attraction to this place. So happy to have had the opportunity to learn more about our family.
Hodgins Bros. Ltd., manufacturers of heating equipment and other similar accessories, began operations in their plant here on Monday. They purchased the former Thoburn Woollen Mills building some months ago with the intention of removing certain of their activities from Ottawa where they have been established for years.
One of the brothers, William, was in town for the last few days and he stated that the Company did not expect to employ more than six or seven men for the balance of the year. For a start they are manufacturing tanks, here, mostly for oil and as will be seen from an advertisement elsewhere in this issue of the paper are looking for another electric arc welder.
For the last few months the Company has had one Almonte man on the payroll training him for the job and he will draw his first pay here, tomorrow. It is the intention of the Company to train men for their technical work which is quite particular, as everyone knows, in the case of heating apparatus.
To people walking along Little Bridge Street these last few days it was pleasant to , hear the sound of work going on again in the long idle plant. It was also cheerful to see the windows lighted again and the lurid reflection of the welding machines for several hours in the evening.
Bill was working for the Steele family of Ramsay twsp. when he left with Fred on the excursion. One of Bill’s sayings to those he drove for was: “If I’m driving ‘em, I’m feeding ‘em. Apparently he felt some farmers didn’t feed enough oats to a working horse.
A number of our Middleville community left, or are going West to the 1956 harvest fields in the prairie provinces, Manitoba and Alberta, namely: Lyall Mather, Harry and Frank Mitchell, Ian Drew, Charles McKay, David Lawson, Lome Somerville and Alden Affleck. Sept 1958
Howard Stoner of Cayuga, Ont., worked for about $2.50 per day in Manitoba in 1908; Bob Yates was happy at $4, while others claimed it was possible to earn as much as $6 or $7 for a day’s work in the mid-1920s.
A large contingent from this section left on the harvest excursion. While one of the trains was at the station here several of the young men on the train indulged in filthy remarks to the people on the platform and Chief Lowry spoke to one of them about his language. The young man went into the train and just as it was starting secured a dish of water and dashed it in the chief’s face through the car window. The chief boarded the train and securing his man, had the train stopped and took him off. He was brought before the magistrate and soaked $7 for his fun and departed on a late train, a sadder, but wiser man.
For almost 40 years, harvest excursions were organized in Eastern Canada to assist prairie farmers with the grain harvest. Thousands of men and women were recruited, no experience necessary, and transported out west to work in the fields, to ensure that Canada maintained its reputation as the breadbasket of the world. The excursions were a huge undertaking and were absolutely critical for a successful harvest.First conceived by the Canadian Pacific Railway in 1890, the annual harvest excursion quickly became a popular tradition, a tradition that contributed in no small way to the significance of the wheat economy to the western prairies and to the country at large. Harvest of the wheat crop was essential to Canada’s food supply, to consumers at home and abroad, and especially to individual farmers and their families.
The harvest excursions were immensely popular, and by any measure, the numbers were impressive. During the 1890s, excursionists rarely exceeded more than a few thousand each year, but after 1900 and through the middle years of World War I, harvesters headed west in the thousands, over 30,000 in 1911 alone. In 1917, with most able-bodied men in uniform or in the munitions industry, the CPR doubled its efforts with an urgent appeal to the patriotic spirit and succeeded in attracting more than 40,000 men and women harvesters.
Postwar excursions were no less popular. From 1920 through 1928, it is estimated that the number of harvesters averaged close to 39,000 per year with peak numbers of 50,450 in 1923 and 52,225 in 1928. In 1929, the wheat market collapsed and with the onset of the economic depression, the harvest excursion had reached the end of the line.
The annual harvest excursion was important to the CPR for two major reasons: One, it was critical for the prairies, the country at large and the company that the grain harvest be completed in a timely fashion. Two, the company held vast tracts of land on the Prairies and the excursions were an excellent means to advertise the West since every excursionist was a potential settler. In addition, since the CPR was the only transcontinental railway in the country until after the turn of the century, it was the only means of transportation for people and products to move from west to east to west.
And history hasn’t taken too much notice of them. No records have been kept by either of the big railways and newspaper files yield a prosaic and fragmentary story. When the excursions were running they were too commonplace to be news.
But tens of thousands of men who went on them still have nostalgic memories—jampacked colonist cars filled with farmers, schoolboys, lumberjacks, factory hands, roustabouts, adventurers; the smell of “Catholic hay,” as French-Canadian home-cured tobacco was called and the smell of sweat and socks; the subdued strains of Seeing Nellie Home on a mouth organ from the other end of the car at night; the talk—cheerful, mendacious, foul, enlightening, but seldom boring; the friendships quickly formed and later bonded with the common experience of aching muscles, alkali sickness, violent bunkhouse East vs. West debates, hard work, sound sleep and (generally) good plentiful food.
Quite a lot of damage was done in this district by Saturday evening’s storm. A twister coming in from the south westerly direction through Percy Stanley’s bush blew down and up-rooted trees on its way, tore the roof off Mr. Stanley’s machine shed and gable end door off the bam. It cut a swath of maple trees through the centre of J. F. Smithson’s sugar bush, then on to Clifford Smith’s where a number of trees near the house were blown over and some on the side road which had to be cleared Saturday evening to allow cars to go by.
At Howard Lowry’s the silo was partly blown in, a drive shed moved about a foot off the foundation, the wagon rack lifted off, and the hind wheels turned upside down and the reach made of white oak only a year ago twisted and broken. The litter carrier was lifted off the tracks and set down a distance in the yard. An apple tree was carried across the road and set down in J. D. Smithson’s field. A large tree a few feet from J. D. Smithson’s house was struck by lightning and at Russell Lowe’s a number of trees were blown over, one missing the pump house by inches. A window pane in the house was broken and flowers pulled out by the roots at the side of the house. All are thankful no life was lost .
This is the speech I gave at Orm’s Funeral this week at St. James
I have to be honest here– most of my best conversations with Orm Giles were in Walmart. I never went to Walmart without bumping into Orm Giles. We used to have our fireside chats on the bench beside the front door where Orm and I would plot to glue coins to the floor and see how many people would try and pick them up. Orm was everything to me. Each time I would bump into him he would haul his flyers out when Walmart used to price match and he would be telling me what I should be buying whether it be in aisle 4 or 5 or maybe even 6. Orm was an iconic retired politician, but he was a master of the grocery flyers–yes he most certainly was.
Orm not only had savings information– he would also give me council advice on that same Walmart bench next to the front door. It was my two for one Roll back special. When I got elected I told Orm I had so many great ideas– so many— and what was the easiest way to get them done. He looked at me and said ,” Well first you have to have 3 other people vote with you”, and I looked at him just like they had slashed everything on aisle 7 and said NOOOOOO. Are you kidding me?
Now when I hear people that are going to enter the world of politics and do this and that and the other– I laugh and say, “No, not unless you have 3 other people vote with you!” and I know that for a fact because Orm Giles told me so.
I had great respect for Orm as he represented his community in municipal politics for over 30 years. I know how hard it is to represent your community, but we do it because we love where we live and boy Orm loved Lanark County. He made many many important decisions for our town and one day he jokingly made a decision for Walmart,
“Hey Linda, what say we tell Walmart to buy 30 new cashes and only open 2 of those cashes?”
Orm had a wicked sense of humour and he once told a story to his son Stephen about the house I was documenting across the street where they lived. They were an odd lot that lived there — no doubt about it. Apparently they used to come out late at night and dig for worms to go fishing. Orm looked out the window one night and said,
“Would you look at that we have a couple of miners across the street digging for gold!”
Only in Carleton Place.
As far as I can remember Orm was a Councillor, Deputy Reeve and Deputy Mayor of the Town of Carleton Place and Warden of Lanark County. He had a park named after him and he lobbied the government of Ontario for years for the expansion of Highway 7.
When I posted about the passing of Orm on Facebook I got a great many comments and Id like to read a few :
Orm was a great citizen who lead by example RIP SIR!
Very sorry for your loss – your Dad served the community with honesty and integrity.
He was the Royalty of CP! I was sharing stories about him tonight. So many! Sylvia Giles you Dad (& Mom) was a true gem!!
He sat with my Dad on his last day on earth along with Don Stanley. I will never forget that.
I‘m truly sorry to hear this news, Sylvia. Even when you know it’s inevitable, it still comes as shock. I wish you and Stephen the best as you celebrate this good and decent man. My sincere condolences. My thoughts are with you.
I am so sorry to hear of your father’s passing Sylvia. Your Dad was such a sweet nice man. He was always there to greet us all at church. My condolences to you and your family.
Duncan and I are so very sorry to hear this sad news. Orm was a gentleman who served Carleton Place for many years with grace and style. He will be truly missed. Our condolences to the family. Sending our deepest condolences to Sylvia, Chris and Stephen. Orme will be greatly missed!
So today we mourn the passing of Orm Giles and I am so grateful that he raised two wonderful children named Sylvia and Stephen, who will carry on his legacy and keep me informed of what I should watch out for in town affairs. I am so grateful for that, but I have one thing that I am heartbroken that I never knew.,. I never knew that Orm’s first name was Clarence. To me that was information that should have been spoken about on our Walmart visits. Because Walmart is a place that you can never be ashamed of who you are.
I am going to truly miss the man that was named Clarence Orm Giles. He was one in a million! Love you Orm and Ill keep that bench in Walmart warm for you.
I was a child who missed the saddle shoes of the 40s and the 50s by a few years, but my High School friend and neighbour Verna May Wilson Hadlock made up for me. I really don’t wander around beginning conversations about saddle shoes these days, but when the subject comes up I once again express my opinions. It seems the more I age, my bag of opinions overflows solely supported by personal observations of course.
I do remember hearing Verna telling me how her Mother became hysterical at the sight of the new saddle shoes when she returned home after her first day at school. They were scuffed and gave the appearance of having gone through a small war, but that was the “in” way to wear saddle shoes.
Some of you will remember the old days of saddle shoes when you bought them sparkling white and clean, and then you tried your very hardest to get them dirty before the kids at school got the chance to do the job for you. Seems nice white saddle shoes just weren’t the thing in those days, and it was very painful to have your friends trying to take every inch of “bark“ off the uppers of your saddle shoes.
Day after day a bit more wear and tear became noticeable. Just about the time you really got the uppers of your saddle shoes to the point where they were socially acceptable with the “In” crowd the main part of the shoe began to deteriorate– and it was time to get a new pair.
There were all sorts of things Verna Wilson did with saddle shoes. She would change her laces to match an outfit and I swear some neighbours peeked out of their Albert Street Venetian blinds on a daily basis to see what she had done. But, this was a girl that came home at lunchtime to change into another fresh white blouse that she wore with her navy blue school tunic, and she was just so perfect in my eyes.
Verna mentioned there was a professional scuffer at Cowansville High School that would scuff your saddle shoes for a nominal price. I heard that his scuffing business was so popular that you had to wait as long as three or four days to get his attention.
In 1972 the style of saddle shoes came back.There were those of my friends who thought the return of saddle shoes was the best thing since Lucky Charms and Lava Lamps. Then, there were two or three, and myself, who said they didn’t care for the entire situation. As would be expected, there were a few old timers that had to throw in their two cents and tell “us kids” about the “olden days” of shoewear.
My style, once older, never followed Verna, but it did involve my Grandmother’s borrowed pearls, lace up brown orthopaedic shoes with a scent of Evening in Paris. I was also so mesmerised with tap dancing that sometimes I taped nickels on the bottom of my shoes. The coins also came in handy for a call on an emergency payphone. Can you even imagine– a nickel? But, after months of wearing them my father began calling them “clodhoppers”– as that’s what they used to call big shoes that just didn’t fit well anymore.
In Grade 7 I wandered into Hashim’s Clothing store on South Street and fondled the most god awful shoes you can imagine. They were vinyl lime green elf shoes trimmed with fringe. What I saw in those shoes I have no idea, but I had to have them. My father relented and came to Hashims and spoke with the salesclerk about the possibilities of getting deformed toes from being squeezed into those pointy shoes. She assured him of course with the words of a podiatrist that I should be fine. As I glance at my large claw toes today that look like they grew like wayward tree roots I am reminded that yes, those shoes had something to do with my toes after wearing them in the rain sleet and snow.
Shoes have always been part of everyone’s lives and they can either afford you the adoration of your peers, or jeers from the cool kids table in the lunchroom. Should we get back into the Hush Puppies era, or can we just stop now at Saddle Shoes and Loafers? Did you know that the shoes we wore actually changed the shape of our feet over the course of our lives? As Leonardo DaVinci once said, “The human foot is a masterpiece of engineering and a work of art.” Maybe so, but after a lifetime of fashionable shoes, my feet are no masterpieces– they in fact looked like very scuffed Saddle shoes that no one would want– and that my friends is going easy on them.