A DAY TO NOWHERE IN PARTICULAR - WILL MARCH ARRIVE AS A LION? WINTER LIVED LIKE A LAMB!
MUSKOKA AS WALDEN
AFTER ABOUT A HALF HOUR OF FIDDLING WITH MY TWO DESK-TOP OIL LAMPS, TOPPING THEM UP WITH COAL OIL, TRIMMING THE WICKS AND CLEANING THE SHADES, I'M JUST GOING TO SIT HERE FOR AWHILE, FEELING THE WARM GLOW. I HAVE ALWAYS ENJOYED THE SCENT OF A BURNING OIL LAMP, AND THAT'S MOST LIKELY FROM THE MANY HISTORIC SITES I'VE HAUNTED OVER A LIFETIME. MY PARENTS STARTED TAKING ME TO OLD FORTS IN ONTARIO, BEFORE I WAS MUCH MORE THAN A TODDLER. I GUESS THEY FIGURED I MIGHT BECOME AN HISTORIAN ONE DAY, AND MAKE THEM PROUD. FUNNY THING, THEY NEVER ONCE SAID, IN LATER YEARS, "GEEZ TED, WE'RE DELIGHTED YOU BECAME AN HISTORIAN…..SHOWING THE MONEY WE SPENT ON MUSUEM ADMISSIONS WAS WASTED." I'M NOT SURE MY MOTHER, WHO BRAGGED A LOT ABOUT HER GRAND-KIDS, ANDREW AND ROBERT, EVER ONCE POINTED OUT TO A FRIEND OR NEIGHBOR, THAT "BY THE WAY, MY SON IS AN INTERNATIONALLY KNOWN, VERY FAMOUS HISTORIAN." OF COURSE I'M NOT. BUT I'M NOT REALLY SURE SHE WOULD HAVE EVEN SAID, AS MUCH AS, "MY SON, HE WRITES ABOUT OLD THINGS." THAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN NICE. SUFFICE TO SAY, NO MATTER WHAT MERLE, OR MY FATHER ED, MIGHT HAVE SAID ABOUT THEIR SON'S TOIL IN THE HISTORY GAME, I OWE THEM GREATLY FOR GIVING ME THE EARLY OPPORTUNITY TO STUDY HISTORY BY IMMERSION. THE REST, AS THEY SAY, "IS HISTORY."
SHORTLY AFTER IGNITING THESE OLD FARM LAMPS, THE AROMA TAKES ME BACK TO HISTORIC SITES LIKE FORT YORK AND FORT HENRY……UPPER CANADA VILLAGE, BLACK CREEK PIONEER VILLAGE, STE. MARIE AMONGST THE HURONS, MACKENZIE HOUSE AND GIBSON HOUSE IN TORONTO. AND OH YES, WOODCHESTER VILLA AND MUSEUM……THE HISTORIC SITE IN BRACEBRIDGE, ONTARIO, I GOT TO RUN AS A SITE MANAGER FOR A FEW YEARS IN THE 1980'S. I CAN'T HELP BUT FEEL "HISTORICALLY INCLINED," WITH THE SCENT FROM A FIRED-UP OIL LAMP. SUZANNE WILL COME DOWN TO MY OFFICE, AND RUN HER FINGERS ALONG MY DESK, OR A NEARBY CUPBOARD, AND SHOW ME THE SOOT ON HER OUTSTRETCHED FINGERS. "SEE WHAT THOSE OIL LAMPS DO TO MY HOUSE?" I GET IT. I MUST TRIM THE WICKS TO STOP THEM FROM SMOKING, THUS THE FILMY LAYER OF FINE SOOT. I THINK SHE LIKES OIL LAMPS JUST ONES THAT ARE NOT ILLUMINATED.
I HAVE BEEN WORKING LIKE A MADMAN LATELY, TRYING TO KEEP UP REGULAR BLOG CONTRIBUTIONS, PLUS MONTHLY COLUMNS FOR TWO REGIONAL ONTARIO PUBLICATIONS, WHILE AT THE SAME TIME PREPARING FOR THE LAUNCH OF RICHARD KARON'S BIOGRAPHY, COMING LATER IN MARCH. I'M REALLY EXCITED ABOUT THIS, AS I HAVE BEEN A LONGTIME ADMIRER OF MR. KARON'S LANDSCAPES, MANY INSPIRED BY THE LAKE OF BAYS REGION, OF THE DISTRICT OF MUSKOKA. AS WELL, A BLOG ON COLLECTING, NOW ON MY GRAVENHURST-SITE, CONNECTED TO A COLUMN IN "CURIOUS: THE TOURIST GUIDE," IS GETTING SOME EXTRA ATTENTION FROM COLLECTOR ASSOCIATIONS, AND HOPEFULLY THIS WILL ONCE AGAIN EXPAND READERSHIP. WHICH BY THE WAY, HAS INCREASED SUBSTANTIALLY SINCE EARLY NOVEMBER, WHEN I BEGAN WRITING DAILY PIECES, INSTEAD OF SEVERAL EACH WEEK. WITH THE EXCEPTION OF WINTER-WRITING, FOR SUMMER PUBLICATIONS, I'VE NEVER GONE THIS LONG WRITING DAILY COLUMNS. I LOVE WRITING, AND IT'S NEVER BEEN A PROBLEM COMING UP WITH NEW IDEAS TO EXPLORE, BUT THE HUDDLING OVER THE KEYBOARD IS REALLY BEATING-UP THE OLD BACK AND NECK. AS I HAVE MENTIONED, BEING A SUFFERER OF TMJ, A DAMAGED CONDIAL IN MY JAW, THE "WRITER'S CLENCH"…..THAT I DON'T EVEN REALIZE I'M DOING, MAKES IT A STIFFENING ENTERPRISE, FROM NECK, TO THUMBS, TO HIP AND KNEES. NOW CONSIDERING I'VE BEEN DOING THIS SAME THING FOR THE PAST 35 YEARS, IT'S TO BE EXPECTED I HAVE A FEW WAR WOUNDS. I HAVEN'T BEEN ABLE TO TURN MY NECK IN TEN YEARS….SO DON'T SNEAK UP BEHIND ME.
THIS IS MY RELIEF VALVE SITE. IT'S THE BLOG I MOST ENJOY SETTLING DOWN TO, SOMEWHAT AS A CONFESSIONAL. IT'S A BIT LIKE "WRITING-RECREATION," WITH NO CLEAR AGENDA, NO HARD AND FAST RULE OF CONDUCT…..OTHER THAN, LIKE THOREAU, TO INCORPORATE THE NATURE THAT SURROUNDS ME……THE BEAUTY OF THE NATURAL SCENE MY OFFICE WINDOW FRAMES, THAT CAN INSPIRE ME AT ANY TIME OF THE DAY OR NIGHT. I REMEMBER BACK TO MY FINAL DAYS AS A REPORTER, FOR THE LOCAL PRESS, HERE IN GRAVENHURST. I WORKED FROM THIS HOME OFFICE, NINETY-NINE PERCENT OF THE TIME. I WOULD COVER TOWN COUNCIL MEETINGS, AND BECAUSE I GOT HOME SO LATE, AND NEEDED SOME DOWN TIME, I'D GET UP INSTEAD, AT ABOUT 4:00 A.M., AND LIGHT THESE SAME OIL LAMPS. I'D ALWAYS PAUSE TO ENJOY THE MOOD-SETTING SCENT OF THE LAMPS, AND THE SLOWLY LIGHTENING MORNING SKY, AND THE CHEERFUL RACKET OF BIRDS AND SQUIRRELS, HOPPING ABOUT, IN THE FRONT YARD SHRUBS. THE ASSIGNMENTS WERE TOUGH, AND WRITING COUNCIL NEWS INTO MEANINGFUL, INFORMATIVE ARTICLES, CHALLENGED EVERY WRITING CAPABILITY I POSSESSED. THESE WERE THE MOST BORING TASKS A REPORTER COULD BE ASKED TO PRODUCE. IT WAS ONE OF THE REASONS I KNEW THE END WAS NEAR….BECAUSE I JUST COULDN'T JUSTIFY WASTING SO MUCH TIME, ON STORIES THAT WEREN'T MUCH MORE THAN FILLER-PIECES, TO "INK" THE WHITE SPACES OF THE NEWSPAPER, BETWEEN THE ADS AND THE PHOTOGRAPHS. NO ONE WAS GOING TO BE DISADVANTAGED IF A MAJORITY OF THESE STORIES HAD NEVER BEEN PUBLISHED. SO WHAT THE HELL WAS A I DOING? WRITING FOR A PAY CHEQUE. THERE WAS CERTAINLY NO ENTHUSIASM.
POSSIBLY IT DOESN'T MATTER TO YOU…..UNLESS OF COURSE YOU LIKE TO WRITE YOURSELF, BUT COMPOSING BECAUSE YOU WANT TO, IS A THOUSAND TIMES MORE MERCIFUL ON A WRITING CAREER, THAN WRITING ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DISLIKE…..OR FIND UNCHALLENGING. I'D READ THE STORIES BACK, DURING THE DREADED "PROOFREADING STAGE," AND AS PIECES OF POTENTIAL FRONT-PAGE JOURNALISM, THEY HAD ALL THE COMPONENTS REQUIRED, TO SATISFY THE PUBLISHER AND PRESUMABLY THE READERS…..THOUGH I WAS PRETTY SURE MOST READERS JUST SKIPPED TO THE CLASSIFIED SECTION ANYWAY…..UNLESS MY STORY HAD TO DO WITH AN IMMINENT TAX INCREASE.
MUSKOKA AS WALDEN IS WHAT I HAVE ALWAYS TURNED TO, EVEN IN THOSE DAYS WITH THE LOCAL PRESS, TO ALLOW MYSELF THE PRIVILEGE OF ENJOYING THE PROCESS OF WRITING. THIS OUTLET SAVED MY JOB IN THOSE YEARS, WHEN WE REALLY NEEDED THE MONEY. I COULD BE AS MAD AS HELL, FRUSTRATED BY WORK RELATED TASKS, AND STUPID ASSIGNMENTS, AND ARRIVE DOWN HERE, AMONGST MY BOOKS AND PAINTINGS, AND FIND SOLACE AT THIS HUMBLY APPOINTED, AND MODESTLY ILLUMINATED DESK. I MIGHT SIT HERE FOR AN HOUR OR TWO, OR POSSIBLY LESS, DEPENDING ON FAMILY MATTERS, BUT NEVER HAS A SECOND BEEN INVESTED THIS WAY, THAT HASN'T BEEN, IN SOME FASHION, HEARTFULLY BENEFICIAL. IF NOTHING ELSE, IT HAS BEEN A CREATIVE WAY OF JUMPING HURDLES, SORTING PERSONAL CONUNDRUMS, AND CHANNELING MY ENTHUSIASM TOWARD WHAT NATURE HAS SO KINDLY AND GENEROUSLY PROVIDED. I CAN SO EASILY EXPLORE THE PANORAMA OF THE BOG, ACROSS THE LANE, FROM THIS SAME PORTAL ONTO THE LANDSCAPE. I HAVE SAVED MYSELF MANY TIMES, FROM WRITER'S REDUNDANCY. I CAN'T POSSIBLY COUNT THE NUMBER OF TIMES I'VE QUIT THE WRITING PROFESSION OUT OF ANGER AND DISILLUSIONMENT, ONLY TO FIND MYSELF, WITHOUT ANY INTENT, GETTING DRAWN BACK TO THIS ROOM….THIS VANTAGE POINT, TO ONCE AGAIN LAY FINGERS ON THIS KEYBOARD.
EACH TIME I WRITE ONE OF THESE BLOGS, ON THIS PARTICULAR SITE, IT IS BOTH A STARTING POINT FOR THE REST OF THE DAY'S WRITING, OR AN OPPORTUNITY TO UNBURDEN MYSELF OF FRUSTRATIONS ACQUIRED SOMEWHERE ELSE, SOME OTHER CIRCUMSTANCE. YET IT IS THE ONE BIOGRAPHICAL PIECE I AM MOST PROUD OF, BECAUSE IT IS STRIKINGLY, AND RESPONSIBLY HONEST, WHICH I MOST WISH TO ACHIEVE…..IF NOT A PULITZER. I HAVE SUGGESTED TO SEVERAL WRITERS I KNOW, TO CHECK THIS BLOG OUT, BECAUSE IT IS MY PARALLEL TO A HAROLD TOWN, OR JACKSON POLLOCK ART PANEL. A LITTLE CRAZY. A TAD HELTER SKELTER. COLORFUL, SENTIMENTAL, ANGRY, RESOLVED, AND ALL THE HUES OF THE EMOTIONAL TURMOIL OF A WRITER IN RESIDENCE…..WHO REALLY DOES LOVE HIS CHOSEN PROFESSION; DESPITE FREQUENT DIATRIBES ABOUT ALL THE PAIN AND SUFFERING IT TAKES, TO GET A PUBLISHABLE PIECE. MY BOYS WILL INHERIT THIS MATERIAL ONE DAY, AND I'M SURE, READING THROUGH THE BLOGS, THEY WILL AGREE ABOUT ONE THING……."IT IS A SELF PORTRAIT OF OUR WILDLY ECCENTRIC DAD!" MUSKOKA, AS WALDEN, IS THE MOST SETTLING ENTERPRISE OF EACH DAY, AND IT IS VERY MUCH THE BLOTTER FOR MY OVER-ACTIVE IMAGINATION. I COULDN'T DO MY OTHER BLOGS, WITHOUT THIS PEACE-MAKING OUTLET.
THE CAT ON MY LAP. THE ONE ON THE WINDOW LEDGE. THE DOG ON MY FEET. THE CRICKET? ONLY ONE CHIRP IN THE LAST HOUR. I LOVE THIS PLACE.