Well I've kinda neglected my blog. I just can't seem to find anything to say lately and I feel I'm brain dead.
Anyway the number is 151. Yes, I've shed 151 tears and traveled the Highway of Heroes 151 time in spirit.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Do you have a Secret Garden? I have a Secret Garden.
My inspiration for writing this came from the movie I was watching the other night called the Secret Garden. It was fabulous to say the least. I'll not get into this story but it did open my eyes to my past and my feelings.
I remember when I was a child about 7 or 8 years old my back yard was my secret garden. I used build a cozy shelter from blankets to protect me from all the worlds ills and travel to Never Never Land. The land of the lost boys.
Yes I was lost. I was new to a great but strange country, with no friends, and barely able to speak the English language.
So, now that I'm much older, I can barely speak a few words from my mother tongue. Irony if I may say so. The many parks have become my new secret garden in which I would explore all the fabulous wonders of the world. I would bend over, kneel, touch, take a closeup photo of all there is to see.
Next time you kneel to look at your reflection in a pond, look deeper and reach in to touch the micro world of life and death. Don't just walk through a bush on the beaten trail but stop and look at the world off to the edges of the beaten trail. Turn over a fallen rotting log or a rock or two and see what the world unfolds. Behold the strange plants that grow a mere centimeter or two. As you look up to follow the sounds of the tweets, buzzes and peeps your eyes will take you on a hidden adventure. But be nice and return everything to the way you found it. The way nature intended it to be.
If it is in your power, plant a garden and watch it grow. You needn't be organized about it. As the plants grow they will arrange them selves. Truly, stop and smell the roses or the lavender, mint or chives. Watch the spiders spin their webs and see them grow as the season grows with age. If you don't have a garden try using pots, cans, boxes or anything that will hold soil to plant a seed and give life. What a wonderful experience. Don't forget the water.
Stop and watch the busy bees that move from flower to flower carrying with them pollen laden legs. It's truly a wonderful world out there and you have to go no further than your secret garden.
What I regret is I failed to take notes of my adventure and my pictures have been lost...Like me; I am now lost. No more secret gardens, no body to share my garden with, even if I had one. It's a pity that age rears it ugly head. I have done a lot in my time yet I have accomplished so little. What I would give to have that secret garden all over again.
If I were to die tomorrow I would want some nice person take my ashes and spread them over a field of flourishing flowers, preferably poppies, so my remains may fertilize that which I dearly loved.
Maybe, I will look for my pictures of my gardens and post them.
I remember when I was a child about 7 or 8 years old my back yard was my secret garden. I used build a cozy shelter from blankets to protect me from all the worlds ills and travel to Never Never Land. The land of the lost boys.
Yes I was lost. I was new to a great but strange country, with no friends, and barely able to speak the English language.
So, now that I'm much older, I can barely speak a few words from my mother tongue. Irony if I may say so. The many parks have become my new secret garden in which I would explore all the fabulous wonders of the world. I would bend over, kneel, touch, take a closeup photo of all there is to see.
Next time you kneel to look at your reflection in a pond, look deeper and reach in to touch the micro world of life and death. Don't just walk through a bush on the beaten trail but stop and look at the world off to the edges of the beaten trail. Turn over a fallen rotting log or a rock or two and see what the world unfolds. Behold the strange plants that grow a mere centimeter or two. As you look up to follow the sounds of the tweets, buzzes and peeps your eyes will take you on a hidden adventure. But be nice and return everything to the way you found it. The way nature intended it to be.
If it is in your power, plant a garden and watch it grow. You needn't be organized about it. As the plants grow they will arrange them selves. Truly, stop and smell the roses or the lavender, mint or chives. Watch the spiders spin their webs and see them grow as the season grows with age. If you don't have a garden try using pots, cans, boxes or anything that will hold soil to plant a seed and give life. What a wonderful experience. Don't forget the water.
Stop and watch the busy bees that move from flower to flower carrying with them pollen laden legs. It's truly a wonderful world out there and you have to go no further than your secret garden.
What I regret is I failed to take notes of my adventure and my pictures have been lost...Like me; I am now lost. No more secret gardens, no body to share my garden with, even if I had one. It's a pity that age rears it ugly head. I have done a lot in my time yet I have accomplished so little. What I would give to have that secret garden all over again.
If I were to die tomorrow I would want some nice person take my ashes and spread them over a field of flourishing flowers, preferably poppies, so my remains may fertilize that which I dearly loved.
Maybe, I will look for my pictures of my gardens and post them.
Tears
No, I haven't forgot about the two soldiers that were recently killed (147 and counting)and "yes" I took the time to shed a tear or two.
Does anyone remember me? Has anyone ever shed a tear for me? I cry for myself at times as no one else will.
That's all I have to say about this.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Saturday, May 8, 2010
A Little Laughter
You want a little laughter in your life. Visit Sex & Fries. I gotta admit the owner of that blog actually won my smile and laughter. What more can I say.
Something More Serious
Today has not been a good day for me.
While at work this morning and for the first time in a very long time I experienced mild intermittent chest pains. They only lasted for a brief time period. However, they came back later in the afternoon. After which I wasn't feeling well.
The pains did go away but I felt like I was struggling to get home later on. I got on the train and rested hoping to feel better by the time I got home. However, even after getting home later on I felt off center and clearly not myself. No, I did not run off to the fucken Hospital. I will never run off to the Hospital.
I did mentioned this in my blog before and the only reason I do so now and again is, should there not be any entries on the blog for a long time following this date you can be assured I didn't make it. Also, I lied to my spouse about the severity of today's episode.
It was 17 years ago that I experience a virtual death heart attack. There was little they could to to make repairs. I can't say that the past 17 years have been good years. I felt it's been a struggle all the way. That's all I will say about this. No pity, just move on like that little frozen bird.
While at work this morning and for the first time in a very long time I experienced mild intermittent chest pains. They only lasted for a brief time period. However, they came back later in the afternoon. After which I wasn't feeling well.
The pains did go away but I felt like I was struggling to get home later on. I got on the train and rested hoping to feel better by the time I got home. However, even after getting home later on I felt off center and clearly not myself. No, I did not run off to the fucken Hospital. I will never run off to the Hospital.
I did mentioned this in my blog before and the only reason I do so now and again is, should there not be any entries on the blog for a long time following this date you can be assured I didn't make it. Also, I lied to my spouse about the severity of today's episode.
It was 17 years ago that I experience a virtual death heart attack. There was little they could to to make repairs. I can't say that the past 17 years have been good years. I felt it's been a struggle all the way. That's all I will say about this. No pity, just move on like that little frozen bird.
Another Tear
Well I shed another tear for a fallen soldier. Though not as many Canadian Soldiers have died lately it's always difficult for me to deal with even one death. I have a great respect for the Armed Forces.
Why do I cry for a soldier? Well, once you have given your life to the Armed Forces, even for a few short years. A little army always stays in your blood. Just like a Mason, once a Mason, always a Mason. Once an RCR, always a soldier.
I finally joined the Legion the other week. It was about time and something I should have done years ago.
I even met an old buddy I had worked with many years ago at Pilkington Glass. He was an RCR and got out sometime in 1962. Even, though he was only ten years my senior he had not aged gracefully. I found it difficult for me to recognize him. I guess maybe that's why I find it difficult to attend reunions.
Monday, April 26, 2010
Facebooks
I just couldn't understand Facebooks. I was signed up but I deactivated my account. What's the use in having a blog and be on Facebooks or Twitter to write my crappy thoughts. It sounds like I'm feeling sorry for my self or looking for pity. Not really, just expressing my true feelings. Who needs Facebooks? Really!!!
I'm certain there are people that read my blog.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Gurls
One of our pet rats died last night.
I never thought I would get attached to the pair of rats we had at home. Neither had a name and we just called them girls. They are the most affectionate pets I've had in the home.
They were clean, didn't smell or bite. We gave them a good home.
They always looked to me for an evening snack. They loved being held and showed their affection by cuddling. They loved crawling up my house coat sleeves or into my pockets. They love to play with socks.
That's all I have to say about that.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Short Poem
I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.
A small bird will drop frozen from a bough
without ever having felt sorry for itself.
D. H. Lawrence
That’s all I have to say for today. It’s a lot in three lines.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Old Age versus Prude.
Even thought I'm old, over 60, does not necessarily say that I have to be prudish. In matter of fact I'm the complete opposite of what is expected of me at my age. My love for the present day and past avant-garde artistry ties in with my love for all art.
Do people expect you to become prudish after a certain age? I have yet to find the answer. However, I do know that older folks tend to mellow out.
I like to say I don't want to mellow out even thought my diminishing health gets the better of me some times. Anyway, enough said. Getting old physically is a sore spot with me.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Monday, February 8, 2010
My Life and Times
Anyway, I want to add a section about my years as being Mason. Did you know that many of the older Masons were veterans from the armed forces. The military discipline shows up during the Lodge ceremonies. Sometimes, the discipline is carried to far. Well, as the old Masons die off the Lodge starts to mellow out and become a little more laid back which is good for me as I'm pretty laid back. Probably to much at times.
I was introduced to Masonry by an old friend of mine, David Grabish, bless his soul where ever he may be. Yes, he is still alive, somewhere is Florida. It was after my first year and having become a Master Mason that I followed through the officer's chairs. I had made it to Junior Stewart when I got ZAPPED with a severe heart attack which nearly fucking killed me. I had three near death experiences and I was only 47 years old.
I never felt the same again both mentally or physically. I became detached from my inner self. I was lost. I would no longer be that kind, charitable, friendly person that I had been proud to be. I became withdrawn and introverted. It was difficult to function. Every day was felt like a chore to stay alive. The following year before my 48 year I went to Sunnybrook for heart surgery. My chance of living they said was 90%. I must of had a damn good doctor. He cut away a piece of my heart and made the thing smaller, sewed it up and put a patch on it, did one bypass and sent me home a few days latter, never to see the doctor again.
So here I am, alive and hurting for the past many years, waiting for that fatal blow to strike me and send me into the darkness forever. Everyday, I have thought about and struggled with death. Every day of my life has been a living hell. I'm am almost alcoholic but I don't smoke.
I stayed with Masonry and I'm still there today. My mental capacity having somewhat diminished affected my memory and my ability to memorize. Of course, this pulled me down as an acceptable officer of the Lodge. It was extremely difficult to memorize the Lodge work required for each lodge office. I suppose with a few friends help I was able to bypass the heavy workload of memorizing certain work. Noted by me, it's only been the last six years that I started drinking excessively.
As times changed my old friend moved on, we had a falling out. I suppose he took it more serious than I did. I've tried to hold out the olive branch to him but he refuses to take hold. I moved to another Lodge as I had probably made more enemies there, my stupid fault, but I wanted to continue with the Lodge. I ended up at North Gate Lodge 591 in Pickering Village. from here I went through four chairs and final on to become a Master of the Lodge. Every step of the way was no less than a struggle and nobody really understood what I was going through. In the last year I didn't have a car and it was difficult to maintain my obligations. I became disconnected and somewhat of an out cast. My two senior officers showed less respect as time continued until I was going to quit in the middle of the year... Damn, all they needed was a quitter, this would ruin their reputation,and they can't let that happen.
After our next meeting a motion was passed, due to lack of interest and attendance that all future lodge meeting be suspended. Basically, the attending membership fell to 7 members from about 10. The total membership was only 32. The lodge was shut down or put into Darkness.
The committee I picked made it into a ceremony.
Afterward, two brother or more agreed and gave me a PM Jewel. A couple of other brother's disagreed as they felt I was an asshole and didn't complete the term as a Worshipful Master. This was the same two that I had appointed to chair the committee to close the lodge. Little did they realize that according to the Grand Lodge Constitution, to be recognized as a Past Master, I would have to be master for 12 months. The Lodge was officially closed 7 months after my 12 month term. I was the head of the committee. I guess what goes around comes around. No one could take the jewel away from me.
Anyway, I cut back on my drinking, I don't drink and drive anymore.
I returned to my Mother Lodge, West Hill. I lifted up my head and connected with the new breed of officers. I've still got a long way to go. I'll come back to this later.
I was introduced to Masonry by an old friend of mine, David Grabish, bless his soul where ever he may be. Yes, he is still alive, somewhere is Florida. It was after my first year and having become a Master Mason that I followed through the officer's chairs. I had made it to Junior Stewart when I got ZAPPED with a severe heart attack which nearly fucking killed me. I had three near death experiences and I was only 47 years old.
I never felt the same again both mentally or physically. I became detached from my inner self. I was lost. I would no longer be that kind, charitable, friendly person that I had been proud to be. I became withdrawn and introverted. It was difficult to function. Every day was felt like a chore to stay alive. The following year before my 48 year I went to Sunnybrook for heart surgery. My chance of living they said was 90%. I must of had a damn good doctor. He cut away a piece of my heart and made the thing smaller, sewed it up and put a patch on it, did one bypass and sent me home a few days latter, never to see the doctor again.
So here I am, alive and hurting for the past many years, waiting for that fatal blow to strike me and send me into the darkness forever. Everyday, I have thought about and struggled with death. Every day of my life has been a living hell. I'm am almost alcoholic but I don't smoke.
I stayed with Masonry and I'm still there today. My mental capacity having somewhat diminished affected my memory and my ability to memorize. Of course, this pulled me down as an acceptable officer of the Lodge. It was extremely difficult to memorize the Lodge work required for each lodge office. I suppose with a few friends help I was able to bypass the heavy workload of memorizing certain work. Noted by me, it's only been the last six years that I started drinking excessively.
As times changed my old friend moved on, we had a falling out. I suppose he took it more serious than I did. I've tried to hold out the olive branch to him but he refuses to take hold. I moved to another Lodge as I had probably made more enemies there, my stupid fault, but I wanted to continue with the Lodge. I ended up at North Gate Lodge 591 in Pickering Village. from here I went through four chairs and final on to become a Master of the Lodge. Every step of the way was no less than a struggle and nobody really understood what I was going through. In the last year I didn't have a car and it was difficult to maintain my obligations. I became disconnected and somewhat of an out cast. My two senior officers showed less respect as time continued until I was going to quit in the middle of the year... Damn, all they needed was a quitter, this would ruin their reputation,and they can't let that happen.
After our next meeting a motion was passed, due to lack of interest and attendance that all future lodge meeting be suspended. Basically, the attending membership fell to 7 members from about 10. The total membership was only 32. The lodge was shut down or put into Darkness.
The committee I picked made it into a ceremony.
Afterward, two brother or more agreed and gave me a PM Jewel. A couple of other brother's disagreed as they felt I was an asshole and didn't complete the term as a Worshipful Master. This was the same two that I had appointed to chair the committee to close the lodge. Little did they realize that according to the Grand Lodge Constitution, to be recognized as a Past Master, I would have to be master for 12 months. The Lodge was officially closed 7 months after my 12 month term. I was the head of the committee. I guess what goes around comes around. No one could take the jewel away from me.
Anyway, I cut back on my drinking, I don't drink and drive anymore.
I returned to my Mother Lodge, West Hill. I lifted up my head and connected with the new breed of officers. I've still got a long way to go. I'll come back to this later.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Friday, January 1, 2010
New Year
Happy New Year 2010.
The year of The Tiger.
It's been several months since I last updated my Blog. Since then I've shed more tears for the death of several members of The Canadian Armed Forces that died in the line of duty. An extra tear for the journalist that died while doing the job of keeping us informed.
Again, Happy New Year.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
One Hundred and Thirty Two Tears
One Hundred and Thirty two tears and still counting. I've shed a tear for every Canadian soldier that has died in action in Afghanistan.
Saturday, October 3, 2009
I Was A Soldier Once And Young
It's hard to remember all things I did in Germany especially at my age now and the fact I'm loosing memory. Maybe, this is why I've chosen to write this before I forget it all.
I suppose one of the only things that I remember is being drunk a lot of times and traveling to the various countries. Oh! and then there were the maneuvers, some of them the same time every year. I guess this was to keep the Russians on their toes.
Yes, the good old Russian spies. They drove around our installations, hardly obvious, License Plate read SOXMIS. These guys were the representatives of the fallen Russians from the WWII. What a crock of shit... I only saw one and did my duty to report the activity to the MPs.
It wasn't long and I grew to love Germany. The ancient cities, towns and hamlets they offered so much history. I was about to learn things and do things that I had never experienced before.
Who do you know that at the age of 20 was able to travel to Europe for 4 years experiencing the culture. It was overwhelming to say the least.
I suppose one of the only things that I remember is being drunk a lot of times and traveling to the various countries. Oh! and then there were the maneuvers, some of them the same time every year. I guess this was to keep the Russians on their toes.
Yes, the good old Russian spies. They drove around our installations, hardly obvious, License Plate read SOXMIS. These guys were the representatives of the fallen Russians from the WWII. What a crock of shit... I only saw one and did my duty to report the activity to the MPs.
It wasn't long and I grew to love Germany. The ancient cities, towns and hamlets they offered so much history. I was about to learn things and do things that I had never experienced before.
Who do you know that at the age of 20 was able to travel to Europe for 4 years experiencing the culture. It was overwhelming to say the least.
I Was A Soldier Once And Young
Afghanistan; I can honestly say that for every Canadian Soldier that has died in Afghanistan for the cause of peace I have shed at least one tear...I would usually go to the pub for a liquid lunch and read the news commentary about the soldier that died and sure enough tears would well up in my eyes. I don't know why this happens as I've always considered myself as being hardcore, unforgiving, without love for anyone person.
I even shed a tear for the soldiers that died from other causes knowing they were there to try and make a world of difference.
To the soldier that went to jail for accidental shooting his buddy I pity him. He will have to live with this guilt for the rest of his life. He will never experience rest. Never will a day go by when that thought comes back to haunt him. All because of a silly little game called Quick Draw. Maybe they should have left it to see who is the fasted at pulling their dicks out of their pants...The Quick Draw version in NATO Germany. We didn't carry side arms there...I wouldn't be a bit surprised if the soldier commits suicide in the near future but we will never know. He just becomes another untold story. He will not be glorified.
I even shed a tear for the soldiers that died from other causes knowing they were there to try and make a world of difference.
To the soldier that went to jail for accidental shooting his buddy I pity him. He will have to live with this guilt for the rest of his life. He will never experience rest. Never will a day go by when that thought comes back to haunt him. All because of a silly little game called Quick Draw. Maybe they should have left it to see who is the fasted at pulling their dicks out of their pants...The Quick Draw version in NATO Germany. We didn't carry side arms there...I wouldn't be a bit surprised if the soldier commits suicide in the near future but we will never know. He just becomes another untold story. He will not be glorified.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
I Was A Soldier Once And Young
So here I am in Germany. I didn't feel any different here than I did when I was in Canada. My arrival felt just like any other day in my life. Only that I'm in a different part of the world.
I didn't even know why I was in Germany. Obviously I must of missed something as to why Canadian soldiers are in Germany or I'm just plain stupid.
It wasn't long before I got the hang of drinking beer and cognac. I could stand up to the best of them when it came to how much I could drink until I mixed my booze.
I recall time when I got shit faced drunk that I crawled back to the barracks. Or that I hung out of the VW bus puking my guts out while on our way to some daily maneuvers. Sometime I swear I didn't sober up until I left Germany. Anyway, enough said about my drinking habits. The good times revolved around comradeship and traveling though out Europe.
One of my first trips was to visit my grandparents in Goslar Germany. Yes, I am a born German but a very patriotic Canadian Citizen. Never forget this. I grew up in Canada and my allegiance is to Canada, nothing less.
I was born in Goslar Germany which is close to what was East Germany. A very old city which is mainly a tourist attraction by today's standard. However, a very beautiful and historic city indeed. It has a very strong medieval history dating back a 1000 years.
I think I shocked my grand parents on my first arrival, keeping in mind I had never seen them since I was about 6 or 7 years old and now I'm 20, dressed like a slob. I spoke very little German and they didn't speak English. I think the only thing that saved my ass is I was able to understand more Germany than I spoke.
I was wearing pointy toed shoes with Spanish heels, straight leg black pants, a regular shirt and a jacket with embroidered crests that a lot of RCR's wore. Worst of all is I smoked cigarettes at that time. I can still picture this today. In matter of fact I think I have a photo of myself. Talk about not fitting in this picture of an older German city. I still chuckle about this today.
I didn't even know why I was in Germany. Obviously I must of missed something as to why Canadian soldiers are in Germany or I'm just plain stupid.
It wasn't long before I got the hang of drinking beer and cognac. I could stand up to the best of them when it came to how much I could drink until I mixed my booze.
I recall time when I got shit faced drunk that I crawled back to the barracks. Or that I hung out of the VW bus puking my guts out while on our way to some daily maneuvers. Sometime I swear I didn't sober up until I left Germany. Anyway, enough said about my drinking habits. The good times revolved around comradeship and traveling though out Europe.
One of my first trips was to visit my grandparents in Goslar Germany. Yes, I am a born German but a very patriotic Canadian Citizen. Never forget this. I grew up in Canada and my allegiance is to Canada, nothing less.
I was born in Goslar Germany which is close to what was East Germany. A very old city which is mainly a tourist attraction by today's standard. However, a very beautiful and historic city indeed. It has a very strong medieval history dating back a 1000 years.
I think I shocked my grand parents on my first arrival, keeping in mind I had never seen them since I was about 6 or 7 years old and now I'm 20, dressed like a slob. I spoke very little German and they didn't speak English. I think the only thing that saved my ass is I was able to understand more Germany than I spoke.
I was wearing pointy toed shoes with Spanish heels, straight leg black pants, a regular shirt and a jacket with embroidered crests that a lot of RCR's wore. Worst of all is I smoked cigarettes at that time. I can still picture this today. In matter of fact I think I have a photo of myself. Talk about not fitting in this picture of an older German city. I still chuckle about this today.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Friends
I seem to be experiencing a great deal of memory loss. I have issues with recall and current thoughts. I would speak to people and forget what I was going to say... I've just finished some medical tests as the Doctor suspects lack of blood flow in certain parts of the body which may cause a reduction of oxygen to the brain.
I do have hardening of the arteries and this could be progressing faster than anticipated.
At this time I can't seem to recall what happened with my life in Germany after Soest Day. So today I write copy from my book of friends. It a good book that someone left at my house and believe it or not I've actually sat down and read it.
A child who shares her last cookie with a
friend shares a great love.
The plastic ring a small child gives a friend
is worth a million bucks.
I do have hardening of the arteries and this could be progressing faster than anticipated.
At this time I can't seem to recall what happened with my life in Germany after Soest Day. So today I write copy from my book of friends. It a good book that someone left at my house and believe it or not I've actually sat down and read it.
A child who shares her last cookie with a
friend shares a great love.
The plastic ring a small child gives a friend
is worth a million bucks.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Friends
Friends can be silly together
without feeling silly about it.
Sometimes a long break in a friendship
can be bridged in a matter of seconds
by a hug.
without feeling silly about it.
Sometimes a long break in a friendship
can be bridged in a matter of seconds
by a hug.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
I Was A Soldier Once and Young
It was in the summer of 1966 that I boarded a plane in Trenton for Germany. I remember it was in the summer because I wore my summer dress uniform and remember participating in the Soest Day Parade sometime after my arrival. It bothers me not being able to fill in the exact dates.
Also, I might mention I was running away from Toronto as far as possible and for as long as possible because I got "dumped on" by my fiance.
In any event I met up with a RCR depot friend of mine, "Turcotte" was his last name, who had already been in Germany for some time as he had left with the RCR rotation draft some months earlier. I can't for the life of me remember why I didn't get on the rotation.
As it turned out he was already an alcoholic.
He took me to the Ranch House behind Fort York were he bought four bottles of Doppelkorn. Gawd, that stuff was awful. It tasted like rubbing alcohol and would burn the asshole out of a skunk. It ended with him drinking all four bottles that evening. Welcome to Germany.
I tried to find some photos of Soest Day but there was nothing notable on the internet. On the Soest website there is mention of an annual celebration in the month of August but I don't think it relates to Soest Day. In matter of fact, the Soest website makes no references to any history involving the NATO Forces.
Also, I might mention I was running away from Toronto as far as possible and for as long as possible because I got "dumped on" by my fiance.
In any event I met up with a RCR depot friend of mine, "Turcotte" was his last name, who had already been in Germany for some time as he had left with the RCR rotation draft some months earlier. I can't for the life of me remember why I didn't get on the rotation.
As it turned out he was already an alcoholic.
He took me to the Ranch House behind Fort York were he bought four bottles of Doppelkorn. Gawd, that stuff was awful. It tasted like rubbing alcohol and would burn the asshole out of a skunk. It ended with him drinking all four bottles that evening. Welcome to Germany.
I tried to find some photos of Soest Day but there was nothing notable on the internet. On the Soest website there is mention of an annual celebration in the month of August but I don't think it relates to Soest Day. In matter of fact, the Soest website makes no references to any history involving the NATO Forces.
Writer's Block
I seem to have come to a low point in my life for the past several weeks. I'm currently experiencing writer's block, artist's block and a general mental block. I experience these blocks more frequently and it takes time for me to get over them.
I don't want to write anything negative as it distracts from the blog.
I find by reading other people's blogs that it eventually restores my inspirations.
I don't want to write anything negative as it distracts from the blog.
I find by reading other people's blogs that it eventually restores my inspirations.
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Giving Advice
Friends care enough to take the risk,
to tell you loud and clear,
the things you really know are true,
but might not want to hear.
I'll come back to " I was a soldier once and young" soon. I'm experiencing temporary technical memory difficulties.
to tell you loud and clear,
the things you really know are true,
but might not want to hear.
I'll come back to " I was a soldier once and young" soon. I'm experiencing temporary technical memory difficulties.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Monday, June 1, 2009
I Was A Soldier Once and Young
Interlude
During my time in Rivers Manitoba I sensed that my fiance had no further interest in me. It wasn't until several weeks after my return that I basically got dumped. I didn't even get a "Dear John Letter". The wedding arrangements had to be canceled and gifts had to be returned. It seemed like I had reached a low point in my life. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really recovered from that low point. It was bad enough I suffered from low self esteem.
I continued to come home to Toronto on week-ends but not nearly as often as before.
I did meet another young girl, she was of age even thought she acted like a 13 year old. I swear she had a few loose screws. She was a "Cling On". So after a while I would not come home on week-ends.
I had completed the training for UN Cyprus Duty in Meaford. However, I ended up volunteering for a Tour of Duty in Germany instead...I love that phrase, Tour of Duty, it has so much power to it. I did return home for a short holiday before my departure to Germany to let my mother know I was going to Germany. You know, I can't even remember if she wished me well or gave me a hug. Also, because of the "Cling On" or "Camp Follower", I literary had to sneak out of my home to get back to London.
During my time in Rivers Manitoba I sensed that my fiance had no further interest in me. It wasn't until several weeks after my return that I basically got dumped. I didn't even get a "Dear John Letter". The wedding arrangements had to be canceled and gifts had to be returned. It seemed like I had reached a low point in my life. Sometimes I wonder if I ever really recovered from that low point. It was bad enough I suffered from low self esteem.
I continued to come home to Toronto on week-ends but not nearly as often as before.
I did meet another young girl, she was of age even thought she acted like a 13 year old. I swear she had a few loose screws. She was a "Cling On". So after a while I would not come home on week-ends.
I had completed the training for UN Cyprus Duty in Meaford. However, I ended up volunteering for a Tour of Duty in Germany instead...I love that phrase, Tour of Duty, it has so much power to it. I did return home for a short holiday before my departure to Germany to let my mother know I was going to Germany. You know, I can't even remember if she wished me well or gave me a hug. Also, because of the "Cling On" or "Camp Follower", I literary had to sneak out of my home to get back to London.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
I Was A Soldier Once and Young
I finished my basic training sometime towards the end of 1965. I trained further in places like the infamous Camp Ipperwash, now destined to be an Indian Reserve, and the not so infamous training grounds of Meaford.
During the course of events a poor corporal had the duty to train and teach me how to driver a vehicle. I had never driven a car in my entire life up until the day I got behind the wheel of a jeep. So you know where this lead to. I did not learn how to drive. I could not co-ordinate between gas, shifting gears, clutch and steer.
It was near the beginning of the year of 1966 that opportunities came available to go to Airborne Training. Ahhh, yes the coveted Silver Wings and $30.00 a month more. You want to hope your parachute opened.
Training consisted of selecting 90 candidates of which only 45 would qualify for the actual course. What that meant is I had to be better, faster and more resilient than 45 of the best to pass the course. Now, at my age I was still growing and was only 5ft. 3in. and weighing in at just 100lbs. I was the second or third shortest in the regiment. PrePara course consisted of 2 weeks of vigorous training in London and Ipperwash.
Well, with hard work things paid off and I was on the train to Rivers Manitoba. I spent six to eight weeks there, can't remember exactly how long but we had to put in extra time because of bad weather. I recall being there over Easter. Also, part of the training was at CFB Shilo jumping from the High Tower. If it were possible I would want to relive this experience all over again. No regrets.
I'm proud to say I graduated and received my coveted Silver Wings.
Friday, May 15, 2009
I Was A Soldier Once and Young
The army is an extraordinary organization. They teach you to respect others, self respect, discipline, duty, and most of all honour. It seems I was made for this as I went through my basic training without difficulties except for the time I caught acute tonsillitis. Illness set me back on my training but I persevered. Everyday was a challenge and me being a short person and somewhat of an introverted person the challenges were even greater. However, again I persevered, I overcame and I became a soldier.
As I said, the army is an extraordinary organization. If you take a close look at the training in the 60's and 70's you were trained to become a killing machine. By order, you were taught to survive and kill without compassion. Would I kill today? Most likely without giving it much thought.
Life was good in the army. You got fed well, you had a roof over your head, the pay was pitiful and you got lots of time off. What more could a grunt want? By the way if you think this is a put down of Canadian Army Life your dead wrong. I have the deepest respect for the Army. After having finished basic training other avenues became available to enhance my combat skills.
I will come back to "I was a soldier once and young" later.
Today being Thursday, May 14, 2009 was the beginning of the end, a renewal of life to move forward.
It is with regret that I may have contributed to an earlier closure of North Gate Lodge 591. I was encountering many personal and physical issues while struggling to be Master of the Lodge. After all was done and said; and I shall not go into detail, It was motioned to close the lodge forever. Preparation were made and a committee was appointed. I chose the same brothers, that were intent on belittling me, to chair the committee and close the lodge. It was only appropriate, not that they realized my intention, to punish them further. Let them do all the work...
Yes... they worked hard and they made sure that I as Master was not invited to attend any of their meetings with Grand Lodge.
So, at the last couple of days before closure I was apprised of the ceremony and how it would be conducted. Even that was changed at the very last hour.
I have to admit that these guys worked hard. They were in their glory because they were still running the lodge.
Now, normally when a master finishes his term of office he would be awarded a Past Master Jewel. A highly coveted jewel to say the least. According to the Grand Lodge Constitution, a master having served out 12 months is recognized as a past master but it's up to the lodge to present the jewel.
So you guessed, my punishment was that I did not get presented with a jewel by the past master, period.
Later, another past master friend pulled me aside. He told me he and another past master didn't agree with the committee that I should not receive a jewel and as such he gave me a jewel that was worn by a deceased past master. I thanked him and later we parted company. I will always remember him. Perhaps one day I'll regain my compassion and charitable attributes on which I had always prided myself in my earlier lifetime.
The evening closed, the committee and a few of the other past masters remained. I was not happy to know that I was terribly disliked as I had found out earlier. Hey, these guys are not forgiving. I finally realized I was no longer part of the Lodge or their group. For a moment or two I stood in the middle of the banquet room, alone. It was then that I did the right thing. I said my Masonic goodbyes and left the Lodge Building. My punishment for them was to clean up banquet hall themselves. Normally, I always helped clean and put away chairs and tables.
So, it goes to say in every order, there are politicians, the old guard, and the ones that really run the Lodge, never ever cross any of them.
By the way, I don't feel sorry for myself. And, I still belong to another lodge that recognizes me as a past master.
So let it be said and so it shall be written.
Today being Thursday, May 14, 2009 was the beginning of the end, a renewal of life to move forward.
It is with regret that I may have contributed to an earlier closure of North Gate Lodge 591. I was encountering many personal and physical issues while struggling to be Master of the Lodge. After all was done and said; and I shall not go into detail, It was motioned to close the lodge forever. Preparation were made and a committee was appointed. I chose the same brothers, that were intent on belittling me, to chair the committee and close the lodge. It was only appropriate, not that they realized my intention, to punish them further. Let them do all the work...
Yes... they worked hard and they made sure that I as Master was not invited to attend any of their meetings with Grand Lodge.
So, at the last couple of days before closure I was apprised of the ceremony and how it would be conducted. Even that was changed at the very last hour.
I have to admit that these guys worked hard. They were in their glory because they were still running the lodge.
Now, normally when a master finishes his term of office he would be awarded a Past Master Jewel. A highly coveted jewel to say the least. According to the Grand Lodge Constitution, a master having served out 12 months is recognized as a past master but it's up to the lodge to present the jewel.
So you guessed, my punishment was that I did not get presented with a jewel by the past master, period.
Later, another past master friend pulled me aside. He told me he and another past master didn't agree with the committee that I should not receive a jewel and as such he gave me a jewel that was worn by a deceased past master. I thanked him and later we parted company. I will always remember him. Perhaps one day I'll regain my compassion and charitable attributes on which I had always prided myself in my earlier lifetime.
The evening closed, the committee and a few of the other past masters remained. I was not happy to know that I was terribly disliked as I had found out earlier. Hey, these guys are not forgiving. I finally realized I was no longer part of the Lodge or their group. For a moment or two I stood in the middle of the banquet room, alone. It was then that I did the right thing. I said my Masonic goodbyes and left the Lodge Building. My punishment for them was to clean up banquet hall themselves. Normally, I always helped clean and put away chairs and tables.
So, it goes to say in every order, there are politicians, the old guard, and the ones that really run the Lodge, never ever cross any of them.
By the way, I don't feel sorry for myself. And, I still belong to another lodge that recognizes me as a past master.
So let it be said and so it shall be written.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
I Was A Soldier Once and Young.
Time has crept up on me and is now my enemy. Life has not been good to me in the past twenty years or so. I'm struggling to recount my past and to bring back my good memories.
Valour, truth, courage, Pro Patria, family, team, death before dishonour, VRI (Victoria Regina Imperatrix), medal, compassion, duty. What do all these words have in common? I was a soldier once and young.
When I was in my middle teen years I was struggling with my future, not that I really understood what future was all about. I worked at worthless dead end jobs. My life was heading in the wrong direction. I received no encouragement from my mother or anyone else for that matter. My father had deserted me when I was 13.
It was after seeing my friend's brother dressed in a sharp soldier's uniform that I knew the army was a place to go, learn something and become a somebody. So at the age of eighteen and very naive I joined The Royal Canadian Regiment.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
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