A friend posted this on Facebook today and I thought it was worth sharing:

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:

– Knowing when to come in out of the rain;

– Why the early bird gets the worm;

– Life isn’t always fair;

– And maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don’t spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn’t defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, launched a lawsuit and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death,

-by his parents, Truth and Trust,

-by his wife, Discretion,

-by his daughter, Responsibility,

-and by his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 5 stepbrothers;

– I Know My Rights

– I Want It No

– Someone Else Is To Blame

– I’m A Victim

– Pay me for Doing Nothing

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

TO EXERCISE……OR NOT TO EXERCISE…….THAT IS THE QUESTION.

I’m signed up (for the 2nd session in a row) for a chair exercise class at the Kanata Seniors’ Centre……Monday mornings.  Last session it was Friday mornings.  Neither seems to be the perfect choice.

Chair exercise isn’t exactly as it sounds – we do spend some time in a seated position – but there is enough done to bring up the heart rate and to break a sweat.  Some work is done beside or behind the chair (with the chair acting as your balance buddy) and some work is done “on the move”.  The instructor seems to sense when we need to sit down (good for her) but we really ought to pitch in and get her some new music tapes.  We all know all the words to all of the songs so you can guess which era they are from!!

The really hard part is getting there.  Waking up in the mornings, there is seldom a body part  that isn’t aching or unwilling to behave properly…….and so the thought process starts……Do I really want to go this morning? …… I wonder if I should?…….It’s sooooo hot out there……. Perhaps I shouldn’t aggravate that hip……..It would only be for this week…….!!!

Usually my determination to do some form of exercise wins out over my hatred of the damn stuff.  What will happen today?

I know….I know…..Cattitude is most definitely not a real word – but for anyone who has cats at home, it says it all!!

Take Herbie, for example

Where’s my Beer?

Who me?  I didn’t do anything!

I wonder what he is thinking?

Just hanging around!

Herbie is the one with the innocent face who usually instigates all of the scuffles and then watches the fireworks as they unfold!

or, for that matter – Blaze

 Such a stressful life!

Nobody will find me under here!

 This box is NOT too small!

What’s your point?

Blaze is the softie – the snuggler – and the eating machine.  I have to stand over them to make sure he only eats his own food and not everyone else’s while he’s at it!

and then there is the Grand Dame…..Olivia.  It isn’t as easy to get pictures of her – she’s camera shy – and she’s a dark colour!  She puts up with the boys – but just barely – and often puts them in their “rightful” place.  This elegant little chocolate brown lady can become a she-wolf when she wishes to show her “I was here first” cattitude.

Sun Bathing

 Ever watchful – where are those two brats?

 Solitude!

 What’s not to love?

There are times I wonder about my sanity in having three cats – but then there are times I wonder about my sanity for all sorts of other reasons as well.  I don’t wonder for long ……as Blaze would say…..”What’s the Point?”

How could you not love these little critters????

Before my recent Nova Scotia trip (read previous blog), I knew I had roots in Sheffield Mills, Nova Scotia – just outside Wolfville.  In fact, I had a picture of a house with some names and dates written on the back of it – and I had a copy of a book called “Sheffield Genaeology”.  This book also had a picture of “the house” – but nowhere could I find an address.  I was determined to find the place and beyond that – who knew?

My great-great-great grandfather (Stephen Sheffield) bought the house in 1779, lived in it until his death, his son and family then lived in the house, followed by his son and family – and finally by my grandfather, his wife and their son, my Dad – until my grandfather passed away when my Dad was only 4 years old.

A helpful gentleman involved with Nova Scotia “Valley Tourism” responded to one of my many emails I sent out and asked me to send him the picture.  I did – and also sent a rough hand-drawn map from the genaeology that showed housing in Sheffield Mills in 1864 – each house identified by who lived in it – not by street name and number. This kind person went out of his way (that’s what Maritime folk do) and not only found the house – he went there himself and took a current picture of it for me, sending along with that, the latitude and longitude co-ordinates so I could find it myself.

Google provided me a street name and address (which turned out to be incorrect).  After settling in to Roselawn Cottages in Wolfville, we headed to Sheffield Mills in search of the house.   My GGGG bought the house from Christopher Knight whose wife was said to have been a witch.  The front doors of the house were identified as “Dutch Christian – Satanic” with an inverted cross on them.  Apparently they are of much interest to tourists today!!

After stopping at an incorrect house – we were helped along by friendly folks and then there it was.  THE HOUSE.

Several efforts to knock on the door provided no response, and after taking a picture of the outside, we prepared to leave.  Before we could do so a car pulled into the lane.  I identified myself and my interest in the house and we were immediately invited in.  Oh my!  It was emotional and overwhelming.  The floors were original.  The ceiling beams were original.  The front door was original.  Some neighbours were called and arrived in short order . I guess a visiting Sheffield was an event.  The neighbour (Jim) had lived in the house himself for 60 years and prior to that, his family, for generations, had been next-door neighbours and friends of my family.  I had some family and house history with me.  The new owner is an archaeologist and had a keen interest in the history of the house and family and is hoping to restore much of it.  Jim was also the “about-to-retire” editor of the local bi-monthly news – and it sounded very much like my visit was going to be included in the next edition!!

We stayed several hours and were made to feel completely at home. I came away with 2 hand-made nails from the original construction, lots of stories and a keen sense of family.  There wasn’t time to do more – and there was so much more to do – historial aerial photographs, cemeteries to investigate, etc. etc.

Another visit to Sheffield Mills just might be in order!!

This was definitely a trip highlight for me!

Sue

Just got back from a fabulous road trip to Nova Scotia and Cape Breton in particular. There is a lot to tell but I’ll try to cover just the  highlights.

We landed in Halifax and rented a car (a Ford Edge – loaded).  After the much-needed 15 minutes to figure out how this magnificent vehicle worked (lots of buttons and options), we headed for St. Peter’s, Cape Breton Island where we stayed at The Bras D’Or Lakes Inn for 2 nites. Did you know that Bras D’Or Lake is the largest salt water lake in the world?????

I would highly recommend the Bras D’Or Lakes Inn – the owners went out of their way to be friendly, the service was excellent, the beds extremely comfortable and the food was absolutely yummy.  We roamed upwards to Sydney and stopped at Rita MacNeil’s Tea House in Big Pond – where, to our surprise, coffee, tea and oatcakes were “on the house”.

Our next stop was the Glenora Inn & Distillery having driven up the beautiful Ceilidh Trail, and stopping at The Red Shoe Pub in Mabou (owned by The Rankin family).  This is the ONLY distillery of single malt whiskey in Canada.  We learned that they had single-handedly (i.e. no help from the Canadian whiskey folks)  won a 9-year law suit launched against them by the Scottish Whiskey Distillers Association against their use of the word “Glen” in the name of their Whiskey.  It does mean dale or valley and the Distillery is in Glenora.    The Inn has 9 guest rooms and some cottages – the grounds are absolutely lovely and the rooms very comfortable.  The pub (dining room not yet open for the season) was just OK in terms of food but we did have music to dine by – a fiddler and a piano player whose foot stomped to such an extent I wondered if he would be rendered incapable of playing if his foot was tied down!

On up the Cabot Trail (breathtaking scenery), through Cheticamp to Pleasant Bay where we had a date with Captain Mark to go whale watching IN A ZODIAK.  We were poured into (and I mean with assistance) floatation suits.  We felt like astronauts – we even walked as if we were on the moon – and waited for our craft to return with a previous group.  Man oh Man – it was SMALL.  Seven of us went off with Captain Gilles (as it turned out Captain Mark was busy lobster fishing).  Who would have thunk we’d have 3 gentlemen from Ottawa seated behind us???  After an hour or more of pounding across waves and enjoying fabulous rock formations on shore and some intriguing sea caves, we returned to the area we started from having seen not a single whale.  A radio call to Captain Mark (who was now back on shore) to go up on the hill and look for whales resulted in instruction to “head straight out”.  We did – and there was a whole pod of pilot whales and one minke whale.  What an adventure.  The minke whale (the larger of the 2 species) glided back and forth under the rubber boat about 10 ft down – you could see it clearly, only surfacing once in a while and seen only by those who happened to be looking in the right direction when it did so.  The pilot whales seemed to be simply frolicking and enjoying putting on a show for us.  There were 7 or 8 of them and they ventured quite close (approx 20 ft ) to the boat. We happily floated out there with the whales for nearly an hour before heading back to shore – a happy group.

A special of fresh lobster and crab was on the menu for this evening – a messy but most enjoyable treat at The Rusty Anchor in Pleasant Bay.  Our hotel was The Midtrail Motel – all pink and blue with views of the ocean!

The next day we continued on the Cabot Trail through the Cape Breton Highlands National Park (we were alerted to watch carefully for moose and bear – we saw neither) – beautiful in its own way – dense forest – every shade of green imaginable and on through Ingonish and Ingonish Beach to Baddeck where we stayed at The Inverary Resort – a beautiful and quite large resort with a good restaurant overlooking the water –  more fresh lobster and a banana split that involved a banaba crepe thing and all sorts of ice-cream.  Good thing we were sharing!!

Back on the mainland we headed for Pictou, Nova Scotia.  Our “hotel” here was a delightful B&B called The Evening Sail – well worth a double mention.  We headed down to the harbourfront area and ran into none other than Peter McKay (our Minister of Defence) who was there to announce funding for a special project.  We managed a photo opp with himself.  You never know who you are going to run into when “out and about”.   Our dinner that night – more lobster, of course – was at the Pictou Lodge – a very old lodge once owned by the CN Railway – sort of a Nova Scotia cousin to Montebello.

Our last stop was in Wolfville – but I’m going to save that one for a separate blog involving my trip back in family history.  All I will note here is that the wineries in the Wolfville area are plentiful – we managed to stop at two of them!!

Speaking of wine, along the way we consistently ran into a Nova Scotia winery called JOST.  Although we never got to Amherst to visit the winery itself, their excellent wines ended up at our daily happy hours or on the dinner table more than once during our journey.

I have decided I will miss the keyless start on our rental car and I will really miss the back-up camera – loved that feature!!

If you’ve never been to Cape Breton – GO SOON!  It is just as everyone says it is – breathtakingly beautiful, friendly, welcoming, and restful.  They say you can drive the Cabot Trail in 5 hours – but I would highly recommend doing both the Ceilidh and Cabot Trails and more –  and taking your time.  Every “look-off” as they call them provides a view that just has to be admired and not rushed, the food is incredible, the artists’ studios plentiful, the beaches calling to be walked on…..etc. etc. etc.

Sue

My guests go home carrying with them a pound or so of cat hair.

Territorial scuffles pop up several times a week.

My Dyson vac gets a regular workout and proves its worth over and over again!

Somebody (??) upchucks at least once a week – and almost always on carpet vs the hardwood or tile!

Another somebody loves to play in the water dishes – and is particularly adept at moving the water to the floor with his paws!

The kitties ignore visitors who love them and reap havoc on those who would prefer they kept their distance.

They aren’t really disobedient – they simply have their own agenda!

Would I give them up?  Not a chance!

Theywelcome me at the door when I’ve been out.

They make me laugh far more often than they make me crazy!

They provide great company and don’t need to be walked in freezing rain or ice storms.

I LOVE MY CATS!!