1. Boxing Day

I challenge everyone I know to celebrate Boxing Day as it truly is. 

Boxing Day is the day after Christmas. It was, and still should be, the day we give to the poor. All the donations we have made, all the contributions given, the sacrifices we have bestowed, should now be available to the less fortunate in our communities. 

Boxing Day was the day that the Alms Boxes were opened and the contents therein were given to the poor.

It is NOT a day to shop. It is NOT a day to SAVE. It is NOT a day to amass merchandise. 

Boxing Day is a day of giving to the poor, the down trodden, the members of our communities that have less than we.

I challenge all my friends to NOT shop on the 26th of December. I challenge you all to either give to the needy or at least not contribute to our consumer based society and at least consider our neighbours that struggle each and every day to provide for their families. 

Happy Christmas...

Take Off, eh!

6 years after the creation of "The Great White North," Bob & Doug McKenzies' AWESOME brain-child, I went back to the UK to spend a few years experiencing the culture of the country I was born in. The UK at that time, and I'm still quite convinced it is true now, had absolutely NO concept of Canadian culture, NONE! 

As teenagers in school we joked of our American neighbours thinking we Canadians lived in igloos, skied year 'round and could still lay claim to vast tracts of land if we simply "settled" them! But the British were worse! I'd meet someone in the UK and the conversation went something like this...
"Oh, you're from Canada! Where?"
"Toronto" I'd reply.
"Really? Well maybe you know my cousin? He lives in Vancouver!"
"What's his name?" I'd ask.
"Peter."
"Oh, Peter! Yeah, we had coffee at Tim Horton's Just last week, eh!"

So, SCTV and specifically "The Great White North" skits, impacted me as a teenager. Mr. Bazack, our grade ten history teacher would become very frustrated with me and my best friend's banter. I'm talking about you, Paul​! 
"How's it going' eh, Mr. B?"
"Don't take no wooden beer bottles eh!"

The banter though, was important. It showed a true and individual aspect to Canadian culture; something yet to be designated. After all, at that time Canada was struggling to define its true character. Paul and I didn't play hockey or lacrosse, and we certainly didn't sleep in igloos! But the verbiage and dialect came through!

But very few, in Canada and especially in other lands, understood or appreciated the true Canadian character. And when I did my few years in the old country, that became VERY apparent! 

During my stay in Britain in the mid 80's I read only three article in the British media that concerned Canada, only THREE! 
The Queen's visit in '87...
A British parliamentarian fishing illegally on Lake Ontario...
A couple having sex in the Sky Dome and being caught on camera!
The first two items did not even involve Canadians. The third story was sordid! But the British do like their dirty stories! At least that's what the bishop said!

The British are so aware of what goes on in Australia, enthralled by the gossip and philandering of their  illegitimate American cousins, but have little interest, and even less knowledge of Canada! None... And Canada was GIVEN its independence. Canada didn't revolt, rebel, or, "uprise" against a "repressive" regime! And it wasn't populated by criminals!


But now I see articles published in the UK press about Canada... And by the BBC of all institutions! The one source of news that has willingly and pompously ignored Canada for decades! And what do they publish? They publish an article about Bob and Doug McKenzie! Two fictitious characters that were created to artificially boost Canadian content on Canadian TV, and make light of the misconceptions the rest of the world has of Canada, I'm talking about YOU USA and UK,misconceptions you had, and still have, of the "Great White North!"
http://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-40572576
Ok, the rant is over...

It's the summer. I'm not skiing. The igloo in my backyard melted five months ago. I don't play hockey, never will, sorry Matt​! And Lacrosse, it's just another team sport that I'll never have any interest in! And I haven't worn a plaid jacket in two months! But there is an axe in the back of my truck...

So, and it's a BIG "SO," If you think you know what Canada is all about, here are a few things you can do:

Read a Farley Mowat novel,

Paddle a REAL canoe,

Photograph a jack pine,

Play "The Beer Hunter," Simon​, Mark​, you guys up for it?



And five months from now, sing the Canadian version of "The 12 Days of Christmas."

Canada, It's not all barren waste land, it's not all hockey and beaver pelts, seal hunting and a mishmash of poor American spelling and bad British mispronunciations! 

Its a town in North Ontario
https://youtu.be/9gFCm9TVU9I, 
It's a Railroad Trilogy...
https://youtu.be/NjoU1Qkeizs,
 It Hasn't Hit me Yet...
https://youtu.be/oMt0skVPC0o.
Or it's where I live...
https://youtu.be/o6QDjDPRF5c

It's decent health care, long and winding roads, the northern lights, mostly good music, friends and neighbours. And GREAT beer and wine!

Just don't take no wooden beer or WINE bottles either!

So, take off, eh, to The Great White North, TAKE off!

It's a beauty place to go!

I've ignored this space for too long...

This posting is a homage to something that had been part of my life since April 29th 1993...

I tried to start the year off right. A few ice fishing excursions... Not much luck, but a few good sized perch for the pan.

But, May turned out to be a good, and exciting month! But there was one day that emotion might just have got the better of me...

May is a big month for those that enjoy the outdoors. In this part of the world it means opening the cottage, re-awakening the garden, all those plants to "plant," first mowing of the lawn, and, for many, the beginning of summer... Although, the calender tells us that doesn't happen until the end of June!

This May really was spectacular though. I can't remember a May "two-four" weekend that was as perfect as this past one! No rain, few bugs, AND, it was warm enough to swim; for those that choose to of course, as I however will not swim in these leech and snake infested waters! I want it "80" and salty! Give me sharks, NOT blood suckers!

But May, for the Ontario sporting type is REALLY awesome!

Walleye (pickerel to some) season opens... And all month long, if you're so inclined (and have the appropriate permits,) the wild turkey is fair game!


But at the end of the month the Jeep left...

After 23 years it finally went. I'll no longer drive it. It will no longer take me places far and beyond. And far it took me, and beyond it went...

   

Simplicity

Simplicity.
Sometimes we just don't need complications. No, we don't ever really need complications. Complications make things, well, complicated! Taxes are complicated, civil law is complicated, your cell phone bill is complicated.

If your love life is complicated, you have a problem. If someone asks you "How's that going for you," and you say, "It's complicated," then it can't be a good thing. Nobody ever said, "It's complicated and it's great!" But many have said, "it's simply fantastic!" 

Simplicity isn't always easy. But it's always emancipating! 

And fishing should be just like that!

I'm willing to bet that more fish have been caught on a simple earthworm than on anything else, ever! 



You can spend dollar after dollar on fancy lures that you can toss, snag and lose. Spinner after spinner, crank bait after crank bait, spoon after spoon. And it can get quite frustrating! There's nothing simple about frustration, frustration is complicated.



But if you lose a worm, a couple of split shot and a hook, you re-rig your line and get right back at it! You've lost a few cents worth of tackle, not a $15, computer-designed lure with an algorithmically, fine tuned paint job. 











A simple worm, or a small minnow, is sometimes all one needs. I caught my first Northern Pike on a worm! Almost all the walleye I caught last year were taken on live minnows and a small jig head. All the mackerel I've ever caught were on a hook with a feather tied to it. Nothing fancy, nothing complicated! 

I've heard many anglers say that using live bait is akin to cheating, it's just not sport! I must beg to differ. The sport in "sport fishing" is all about locating the fish, presentation of the bait, live or artificial, and the fight! The ten-pound steel head I landed this past May was hooked on a well presented earthworm, the sport was in the 15 minutes it took to land it! 

The first fish I ever caught was on a Cheeto! I was four-years old! You would never introduce a child to fishing by casting and retrieving buzzbaits!

Sometimes half the fun for a child can be finding their own bait. Turning over logs and rocks, foraging for grubs; trapping crayfish and minnows with stale pieces of bread; watering the lawn of an afternoon and in the evening picking the worms that slither through the grass! Supplying your own bait, or improvising (Cheetos!) can be half the fun!

I'm not saying we should dump all those fancy lures in our tackle boxes. I'll admit to owning quite a few. And I've lost my fair share too! But sometimes a hook is all the tackle we need.

So, let's keep it simple. Let's appreciate our surroundings, the pure simplicity in nature's beauty. Let's find comfort in the company we keep when we fish with friends and family. When alone, an escape. A simple day on the lake, the riverbank or beach, should be a break from the complications of life. Let's turn angling into "simplicity," not a frustrating activity. After all, don't we have enough frustrations and complications in our lives?  

Ah, simplicity...

  

An Expensive and Expansive Walk...

An Expensive Walk...

Hiking, fishing, and even hunting (shooting) can be relatively inexpensive pursuits if one is so inclined to indulge in these activities on a limited budget. But when the experience outweighs the financial outlay, the reward is great!

And I'm cheap! Or is it frugal? Whatever, I have limited funds and even less inclination to spend the few pennies I have! But sometimes you've just got to spend money in order to chase your dreams!

So this week I upgraded, I replaced a piece of equipment that will make my travels easier.

I bought new insoles for my boots!

They are awesome! Not only are my boots more comfortable, but I'm a quarter of an inch taller! 

They are more comfortable. Walking to those special places will be easier. Walking to those places I do not want to go to will be easier.

And it will be easier to walk away!

Getting to where we want to go is simple. Just take the steps. Getting to where we don't want to go to, but must, is far more difficult. But sometimes you've just got to go there. If the walk is easier, then the leaving is joyous.

Maybe my new insoles will make that trek all the better...

But the equipment we walk with is also important.

I have two very fine centre fire rifles. One a modern work in space-age engineering with optics built to an extreme. The other a hand-crafted work of art; ivory inlays, hand-carved checkering. My go-to shotgun, on the other hand, is as practical as they come! It's built and performs like my 24-year old Jeep!   

 

I also have a menagerie of fishing equipment. Its financial value is reflective of my income at the time of purchase. Some pieces are is as old as me (some, somewhat older,) some of it worthless and will sit in my tackle box, never to get wet! 

But my most prized piece of fishing tackle is one single rod. I will have it forever. It represents something significant, something more important than chasing that elusive fish, it symbolizes the ultimate quarry. Happiness.

It's also the most expensive piece of equipment in my fishing arsenal. And I would never have bought it for myself! 



It represents my dreams, and is indicative of the love that someone else has for me.   







Sometimes the most important things we buy are cheap, inexpensive and of little worldly value. Sometimes our investments are fleeting, diminished by time or changing fads. But sometimes, our investments take on only a thought for others and their return is great happiness. 





A small investment in comfort can make the walk easier. A small investment in another one's dreams can bring joy! 

A fly fishing rod, and a new pair of insoles for my boots. Both have brought me comfort. One helps me step from this day into the next, the other is an indicator of the joy that lies ahead! 

Again, A Fish For All Seasons...

"For, before men can reason together, they must agree in first principles; and it is impossible to reason with a man who has no principles in common with you." 

Thomas Reid: in The Intellectual Powers of Man 

A chain is only as strong as its weakest link...

"In every chain of reasoning, the evidence of the last conclusion can be no greater than that of the weakest link of the chain, whatever may be the strength of the rest..."
Thomas Reid



This being said, a fishing line is only as strong as its weakest knot.


Yesterday was "Victoria Day," a day to celebrate the birth of the monarch that gave Canada her Independence. But many have lost sight of its original meaning. Just as Santa Clause, and the receiving of gifts, overshadows the birth of Christ, opening the cottage and gardening cast a dark veil over the long-standing monarch's date of birth. 
No longer is it May the twenty-fourth, but May 2-4; the amount of beer to be consumed. 
No longer is it a day to remember a great matriarch, it's a day to open the cottage for the summer that promises itself, and a day to till the garden and put the patio furniture in order. 

It's a day to set the dark on fire with great spectacles of sulfur and phosphorous. 

But my fireworks were to occur before the setting of the sun and after the gardening.

I spent my morning leisurely. I woke before I had anticipated. I made coffee, and on the patio, as the dogs tormented the squirrels and bunnies, I read my book. 

And when my thirst for mystery was sated I turned my mind to the afternoon's activities: fishing.


But for the ice fishing of the formidable winter we have oh so recently found ourselves struggling through, my open water tackle was in much need of attention. 

The Jeep, my tackle box on wheels, contained said equipment. So into her I delved and found the appropriate gear.

The fish sought after that late afternoon was the elusive rainbow trout, the steelhead, plying the rivers in search of a gravel stream bed to deposit her eggs, or him, to fertilize them. But these are strong fish, and the means to tackle them, with the appropriate tackle, takes an eye and a presentation that few are blessed with.


In these streams, streams of crystal clearness, streams of strength and furry, the trout, the large ones known as "steelhead," pursue their inner drive. They seek shelter, food, and the proliferation of their species. They know not why, they just do it!

They eat. They shelter and protect themselves for predators. And they're good at it. But they think not of their species, only of themselves.

So, to take one, to entice one, to lure one to one's eventual demise and capture, shelter and food are the keys!

So, for the predator, presentation is that key!

I'm the predator.

And presentation is the key.

Yet here is my weakest link...

The knot.

After closing the pages of my "mystery," after retrieving my tackle from "The Jeep," after consuming too much coffee, I set myself to tying three knots.
I tied a swivel to my line. I then tied a length of leader to the swivel, size 14. Then a hook, size 10 (a wet/nymph hook at that!) to the leader.

Three knots. 

It mattered not that my line was 15 pound braided, nor that my leader was ten pound mono. The abrasion resistant braid and the resilient, memorable mono were two things; yet the knots were three other!

I struggled with the knots! The light was bright, the air still. Yet those three knots consumed me! They consumed my thought, my diligence and my concentration! My eyes are not nearly as astute, my fingers not nearly as as adept to intricate feeling as they used to be!

Yet those three knots, their adhesion, their tensile strength, their holding power, proved that I can still tie a knot!

My last conclusion was a fish! My principal was putting a bait before my prey. My weakest link was the knot. 

But my knots proved sturdy, they were tied to the capacity of my adversary, and as my weakest links, they upheld the fortitude of that which they bound together and formed the structure of my ordeal.

Is it reasonable for a man to fish? To cast angle upon the waters? Were our minds not so introspect that seeking prey from the depths would be so elusive? Should we not feed ourselves? 

And should a knot, be so not important?

And a fish was caught.


   

   

Today I went for a walk.









Our walks take many turns. 





Unfortunately my walks as of late have not been on dirt paths but upon concrete and asphalt. Today I remedied that. I walked the woods. I followed the streams, I went where the birds sang, trod in the mud, the dirt and the moss!

Spring might have come late but it has arrived! The flowers, the ferns, and the fins are there. 

There's some catching up to do. Mother nature will push her child Spring along. Summer will arrive and the abundance of Autumn will be bountiful. 

But I need to catch up. Mother Nature doesn't care for me as she does her own. It is my responsibility to catch up. My walks might be shorter this year, and less frequent, but I will still walk, find the time, and see the progress of the year.