The Flood Waters Heading South, and That Damn Telephone

Flooding Heads South -  Wednesday – 5:30 p.m.

 

While Huntsville is experiencing some receding waters, the southern portion of Gravenhurst is preparing for rising waters particularly in the Severn River area.    The banks of the Severn River are cresting this afternoon flooding a number of homes and cottages along with river’s path.

 

Photographs taken along Cowbell Lane show a number of the homes with their yards completely under water - Photos by Fred Schulz

IN THE EARLY EVENING SNOW -

SPRING IS THE EVERYTHING SEASON

     I WAS DRIVEN OUT OF THE HOUSE TODAY BY THE PHONE. I HAVE BEEN WORKING ON A HUGE WRITING ASSIGNMENT, AND FINDING IT DIFFICULT TO CONCENTRATE. THERE WAS A TIME, AS A YOUNG WRITER, IN A BUSY NEWSROOM, THAT I COULD WORK THROUGH THE DIN OF REPORTERS CONDUCTING INTERVIEWS, STAFF YELLING AT ONE ANOTHER, AND THE PHONE RINGING CONSTANTLY. I COULD STILL MEET DEADLINE. IN FACT, I PRIDED MYSELF, ON NEVER MISSING A DEADLINE, AND IN MANY CASES, I WOULD GET A LAST MINUTE EDITORIAL TO WORK ON, WITH ABOUT TWENTY MINUTES TO SPARE, BEFORE THE NEWSPAPER HAD TO BE "PUT TO BED." THAT WAS THEN. I AM NOT SO CAPABLE ANYMORE, TO HANDLE DISTRACTIONS.

     WE HAVE TAKEN OVER THE CELL PHONE MY FATHER HAD ACQUIRED, JUST BEFORE HIS DEATH A FEW YEARS BACK. IT'S KIND OF A SENTIMENTAL KEEPSAKE THAT IS ALSO RATHER USEFUL. EVEN AFTER A STROKE, AND HAVING FALLEN NUMEROUS TIMES, INJURING HIMSELF, HE WAS ABLE TO ANSWER THE PHONE WHEN SON ANDREW CALLED. HE DIDN'T ANSWER IT ON THE FIRST CALL, BUT MANAGED TO SPEAK TO ANDREW ON THE SECOND. ALL HE SAID WAS, "I COULD USE SOME HELP GETTING OUT OF BED." AFTER ASSURING HIM WE WERE ON THE WAY OVER TO HIS APARTMENT, I HAD ANDREW PHONE FOR AN AMBULANCE, TO MEET US. I KNEW THAT IF MY "SAILOR" FATHER, NEEDED HELP TO GET OUT OF BED, SOMETHING GRAVE WAS HAPPENING. I WAS RIGHT, AND ALTHOUGH HE SURVIVED FOR A MONTH AFTER THIS, HE EVENTUALLY SUCCUMBED. SO WE DID SAVE HIM, AT THE TIME, BY HAVING THIS CELL PHONE. IT WAS SO EASY TO USE, THAT A CHAP WHO HAD JUST SUFFERED A STROKE AND BODILY HARM FROM FALLING, WAS ABLE TO ANSWER. IT WAS HIS FIRST CELL PHONE, ACQUIRED AT EIGHTY YEARS OF AGE. IT WAS THE FIRST CELL PHONE, FOR SUZANNE AND I, WHO HAVE BEEN HAPPY WITH A LAND-LINE SINCE THE DAYS OF PARTY-LINES, AND "SARAH THE OPERATOR." BY TAKING RESPONSIBILITY FOR THIS PHONE, WE HAD MADE A JUMP INTO THE MODERN ERA, I SUPPOSE. BY TODAY'S STANDARD, THIS PHONE IS GREATLY OUTDATED……AN ANTIQUE AS FAR AS TECHNOLOGY IS CONCERNED, BUT IT GETS THE JOB DONE.

     I have procrastinated on a book I've been writing, for a board of directors of a local recreational complex, in preparation for an upcoming anniversary this year. I have worked on it here and there, when information has become available, and since early December, I've managed to piece enough together, to be able to sit down at this desk, and despite the distractions outside my window, begin working on the finished manuscript. I'm now once again facing a deadline, and for a writer, this is either all the incentive we need to get the job done, or a nightmare scenario if we suddenly become either uninspired, or distracted. Sort of like getting sucked toward the brink of a waterfall, in a canoe, with a paddle and some indecision. Where do you paddle to? Or do you paddle so fast off the brink, you sail up and over the troubled water. I've never been one to suffer these writing dilemmas, until most recently, as I have admittedly, tripled my daily workload from even those fledgling days as a cub reporter…..when the sing-song and din of a newsroom, was by itself, a source of inspiration.

     I don't answer the phone in my office when I'm working. We have our cell phone for emergencies. I don't want calls offering me carpet cleaning, or a freezer full of freshly cut beef, fish or swine. I don't need my lawn raked, as Suzanne has already done this, and I don't like boat cruises, so winning one doesn't turn my crank. There are people who may wish to talk to me about local history, or about political misadventures, or to just chat about the good old days. I hate this over the phone at any time, and it's what I like about the cell phone, truth be known. I can shut it off.

     Today the infernal tool of communication, wouldn't give me any piece. I can't even get under my desk these days, to unplug it, to stop the ringing. Back issues. If I take it off the receiver, the assorted noises it makes, becomes a truly unpleasant distraction, more than the constant ringing. We are on the federal "do not call" list, and while it worked for a few months, it's worse now than it ever was…..and I'm thinking of having it removed and buried somewhere in the yard.

     It was cold and rainy today, but honestly, it was the only place I could escape to, in order to distance myself from the constant interruptions. I was put behind schedule today, on my writing project, simply because, after awhile, I had to surrender. I can't even describe to you, how that stark, ear piercing ring tone, startles me in the middle of word-smithing. Even when I bring the ring tone down, by adjusting the bottom dial, it still sounds as if I'm in the bell tower of Notre Dame.

     I finally took Bosko out for a walk in the rainy forest, and in only a few minutes, I was adjusting to the simple country pleasures of rain drops on the old leaves, and into the myriad of puddles; and the ducks and geese fluttering and complaining out in The Bog was soothing in fact, because it didn't sound like a phone. It was a wonderful respite from office politics, even at Birch Hollow. When we'd finished our walk, and were both soaked, I still couldn't go back into the house, to face more phone ringing, and my rising anger. I just couldn't. So I sat on my newly swept front verandah, where I have some old theatre seats lined-up, and within a few moments, Bosko and I were cozy together, and quite content to be a part of this natural vista of a spring rain, and so much budding in our gardens. It got colder as our respite grew longer into the afternoon, and soon, we simply had to seek a warmer place to reside.

     I wasn't in the door five minutes, and the phone began to ring. It rang through dinner. Suzanne and I both refused to answer it, because we are content to talk with each other……and our sons know how to get in touch with us when need arises. It takes my pleasure away, at times, to be in this beautiful place, so comfortable looking out upon The Bog, and happily working away, to then be hammered by the ring of nonsense….that I find I can no longer tolerate. So if I've missed your phone call, send me an email. If you just wanted to pass the time, or maybe sell me something or other, I don't have the time right now……and I may not in the future either. I just want to have a no-ring day here at home. But honestly, because of this day, I'm really looking at disconnecting the phone, that has been at my side since we arrived here at Birch Hollow. Talk about an antique of communications. It and me. I just wish it would ring a lot less, and when I'm not in the middle of work….or my dinner.

     I now live in Muskoka as a retiring writer, with a retiring teacher as my life-mate. We want…..no, insist upon, a gentler way of life. This old phone and those who beat it to death, will have to conform to our new lives, or be disconnected forever; maybe I'll put the phone in a glass showcase, as a reminder of the way we used to live our lives…….a slave to those who wished our attention constantly.

     My Muskoka, like Walden, is best suited to quiet reflection. It is the heart, for me, of yup, "serenity now." I must insist.