11 Days of Remembrance: The Willing Workers

My great-gram was always a do-er. If something needed to be done, she did it, or at the very least would find someone to lend her a hand. That mantra didn't change when she left the city to become a farm wife back in the late 1930's.

I had always known that when great-gram moved out to the country the farm didn't have electricity. I was also aware that our farm was on the list to get it, but when WWII broke out, all the wiring went to the war effort. What I didn't know until earlier this year is that my great-gram, and a handful of other women from Binbrook, played instrumental roles in the Allies winning the war.

My mum had been rummaging through the upstairs of great-gram's house when she came across an old newspaper photo from the early 1940's. It was something that great-gram had completely forgotten about, and when we'd asked her about it, she still couldn't remember much. But, at 99 years old, that could be forgiven.

The photo was of the Binbrook Willing Workers, and their contributions helped our boys win the war. The Willing Workers formed shortly after the war broke out, and they would knit, sew, crochet, and quilt various articles to send to our soldiers abroad. If you can't read the caption under the picture, it reads:

Above are some original members of the Willing Workers club of Binbrook, formed soon after war broke out.These and other workers meet once a week to make articles for the Red Cross. In the last 12 months, the following articles have been turned over to district headquarters in Hamilton: 54 sweaters, 38 pair seaman's socks, 117 pair soldiers' socks, 91 scarves, 50 pair mitts, nine pair gloves, four airmen's caps, seven pair boy's socks, 51 helmets, four afghans, 142 quilts, 13 pair pyjamas, 13 body belts, 14 boys' blouses, three boys' coats. Those in the picture are, back row, from left: Mrs. Leslie Laidman, Miss. Bernice Whitwell, Mrs. Edgar Pettit, Mrs. Edward Roberts, Miss. Jennie Switzer. Bottom row: Mrs. Alvin Hillgartener, Mrs. David Young, Mrs. Iven Lowden, Mrs. Edward Garinger, Mrs. William Elliot. 

My great-gram's front and centre, Mrs. Iven Lowden. If Canada's boys were over in Europe trying to keep the Nazis at bay, the least these women could do was make damn sure that they were warm in the process! These ladies may not have been in the trenches, but they certainly did their part to make sure the good guys won.

We always remember the people on the battlefield. Let's not forget the people in the background, like my great-gram and the Willing Workers, who did the little things that helped to get the big job done.


For more, refer to the 11 Days of Remembrance miniseries from 2011 and 2012.

11 Days of Remembrance: Teaching the Teacher

If you've seen the picture from my previous post, you'll know that I have a few poppy pins to choose from. I was wearing one from my collection yesterday on my sweater when I went to work, and I was still wearing it when I went to see my boyfriend afterwards. During dinner, his mum took notice of my pin, which then sparked a conversation about Remembrance Day.

Those who know me understand exactly how I feel about the 11th of November. They would also be well aware that I'm always ready to talk about the single most important day of the year.

His mum, who's a retired teacher, was telling me about what her schools would do for Remembrance Day. She believed that if the students were going to be at school on November 11, then they ought to learn first hand why the day is so important. So, veterans would come in to speak to the students. Learn the history directly from the source. She also spoke of a non-fiction story she'd found that was written for children about Christmas in the trenches. I know that story as a song by John McDermott. I'm not sure if he's the original artist, but it's his version that I'm familiar with. It's about a one-night truce between the Germans and the Allies where they sang together, ate together, and shared stories and pictures from home. When Christmas Day had come to an end, the fighting started again. Imagine if that single truce had held what could have been!

I told her about my experiences selling poppies with veterans when I was a cadet, how you learn of little experiences that may seem mundane at first, but to them are of utmost importance. I shared my favourite story of Frank and Stan and the tattered pair of long underwear. I told her as well about the veterans I spoke to last year when I was writing "Confessions of a Poppy Hoarder" for the ARB. What didn't shock me, though, was her surprise regarding the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan (BCATP), and the war graves that coincide behind St. Paul's Anglican Church on Highway #6 in Mount Hope.

She had never heard of the BCATP, didn't know that Hamilton airport trained young men as pilots for war, and was unaware even more that sixteen men died in training at the airport, and are now eternally resting behind a church in a small town, except for two who were buried at a synagogue in Brantford.

It's not very often that those who teach us become the students, but when it comes to our history, especially local history, it's fulfilling to give knowledge to those who educate us. Now, not only does she know more about the city she calls home, but I'm certain she'll be sharing her new-found knowledge with others who share her profession.

For more, refer to the 11 Days of Remembrance miniseries from 2011 and 2012.

11 Days of Remembrance: Confessions of a Poppy Hoarder

November has come again, which means it's time for my annual miniseries, 11 Days of Remembrance. This year, I'm starting you all off with an article I wrote last year for Arbitrage Magazine (www.arbitragemagazine.com). It's called "Confessions of a Poppy Hoarder" and like its name, I've catered to my poppy hoarding habit once already this year. The link to the article is below, and please pass it along (through the ARB site as well, if possible, as I'm curious to see the reader tally).

http://www.arbitragemagazine.com/editorial-opinion/confessions-of-a-poppy-hoarder/

For more, refer to the 11 Days of Remembrance miniseries from 2011 and 2012.

Inspire Me

I know this is such a cheeseball topic. I'm also well aware that this is my third post in two days. It's like I went from slacking on the blog to a swift hit of go-go juice. But what can I say? I have a few other things on the go besides this.

Sometimes, I feel like I push myself too much. Lately, that had been the case. One spectacular breakdown with an epiphane later, and I feel more motivated than I have in a long time. We all need something to look forward to, and I can honestly say that I have a few things, though they certainly are far from typical.

I haven't shared this with you yet, so here it is, the big news I hinted at in my post "Changes". I'm applying to go back to university on a full-time basis. Trying to work a full-time job while tackling a degree was getting to be too much to handle. But, by the end of this year, I'll be applying for a transfer to Mac to complete my B.A in English (hopefully with honours), and I'll hopefully be able to start with the summer 2014 semester.

Until that time, there are a few things that are keeping me going. I'm still an editor with the ARB (www.arbitragemagazine.com). It reminds me every week that editing, or even writing, is really what I am meant to do with my life. I'm also working on a short non-fiction story for a writing contest. There's a short fic contest that I might enter too, if the time permits. I also have many days of fun to look forward to, from the David Bowie is... exhibit at the Art Gallery of Ontario to my Annual Bad Film Fest.

So with all of this in mind, I now pose a question (or few) to you. What inspires you? What gives you your boost of motivation, or heightens your morale for the day? What makes you roll out of bed in the morning? Our boosts are always there, but we rarely think about them.

I'm so close to being done, but I'm really starting to feel the strain. Or maybe it's fatigue as it's now my bedtime. Either way, I'll see you at the finish line.

The Mac n' Cheese Mission, Part 1

Ok, so perhaps this post isn't nearly as exciting as the title suggests, but it involves food, and food is always awesome.

Lately, I've been on the hunt for the perfect homemade macaroni and cheese recipe. Why? I don't know. I just have. Well, I have myself four recipes. Actually, one was already in my possession. The other three I found thanks to my good friend Google. Tonight was a very simple Campbell's concoction. Who am I kidding? I still found a way to add difficulty to my not-so-superstar culinary expertise. I'm about 99.9% certain that music was part of my problem.

Anyways...

I did as the recipe said, bringing a couple of my ingredients to a boil, stirring occasionally. I had my music cranked, because, well, it only seemed proper to have the tunes blaring while creating my masterpiece. Unfortunately, I kept on thinking that I was hearing the phone ring.So, I gave my concoction a quick check and stir before going to the living room to see if the phone was actually ringing, or if I was just losing my mind. For the record, it's the latter. When I came back to the kitchen, my pot had started to boil over. Enough liquid ran over the side to make cleaning the stove top require some serious elbow grease, but the bulk of it was still in the pot.

I added my noodles, added my cheese, cooked it a bit, then let it sit for about ten minutes or so, and voila! I had macaroni and cheese. The verdict? It was pretty darn tasty. With that in mind, I didn't follow the recipe exactly. I don't enjoy hot sauce, nor did we have any in the house, so I omitted that, and instead, I added a splash of heavy cream, and extra shredded cheese.

Overall, it was a recipe that I'd make again, except next time, I won't turn up the music so loud... Or maybe I'll just mix everything in a bigger pot.

For those who are interested, here's the macaroni and cheese recipe I used (with my aforementioned modifications), compliments of the Campbell's Soup website.

http://www.campbellskitchen.com/recipes/fastest-homemade-mac-and-cheese-26115

Bon Appetit! 

A Cemetery is a Most Peculiar Place to Give Thanks

We're nearing the end of another Thanksgiving Weekend here in Canada. However, this year for me, Thanksgiving wasn't the same.

Back on June 8, I lost my great-gram. She was one of the most incredible people to have ever lived. Despite being 99 and three quarters, she was still sharp-tongued, quick witted, and doing her daily crossword puzzles in ink. Not having her around this year was sad, even though she was a ripe old age when she passed.

As today was glorious and full of sunshine, I took a walk to the cemetery to see her. Sitting beside where she's buried, all I could hear were the birds. I don't think I'd ever heard them squawk that loud before. The leaves rustled like mad too. Yet, everything was peaceful. Like every other visit, even before she passed, I did most of the talking. She was always content to just sit and listen.

What I talked about really isn't that important. Just a mish-mash of goings-on. Everything from schooling to the ARB. The usual life updates. Of course, she was always happy to have visitors, so even if I sat in quiet contemplation, she'd still be quite content.

Walking back home when I was done my visit, I knew what I was thankful for. I'm thankful that I was able to have my great-gram for almost 26 years. Certainly, there are others things that I could give thanks for, but this year, being thankful for Jean Lowden is what mattered most.

Changes

Have you ever felt the swift kick of defeat? I don't mean something like losing a soccer game, or have someone beating you in a chess tournament. I'm talking full-on hitting the wall of failure. I hit it once, many years ago, and had hoped that I would never have to feel it again. I was wrong.

Lately, I had been wondering if I had been trying to tackle too much. You know, had I bitten off more than I was able to chew, let alone swallow. I guess I had.

A few nights ago, I had a massive breakdown. I felt deflated, irked, exhausted, relieved. Sometimes, you try to do the right things for yourself, and occasionally, they're in a round-about manner. Then, that which you had attempted for so long suddenly becomes useless, pointless, a jumbled mess and a headache.

Next thing you know, you're left evaluating yourself and your options. That was me. I've done my soul-searching. I don't typically pray to any gods, and now I don't have to as great-gram in the after-life has certainly told them to take a seat. I asked great-gram to show me the way, to give me some indication as to what direction my feet ought to walk in.

I think I may have found my compass, and it seems to be showing me a way to go. I won't say what it is at the moment, as there are a few things I want to firm up first before I go telling the world. What I can say, though, is that changes are coming. The brick wall of defeat should be on its way to destruction soon.

Hold on tight. This could be a bumpy ride.