Columnists
Grateful
While driving to KTown on Saturday afternoon with LOML, I had lots of time to think about my life. About an hour, actually. Mostly, I was thinking about all of things for which I am grateful. No, wait a minute, people and things. That’s what I meant to say.
To begin, I’m grateful I decided to tough it out in the County. We moved here in 1972. Our intention was to stay a couple of years and head back to the City of Toronto. Teaching jobs were few and far between in the Big Smoke, at the time. A teaching position became available at PECI and LOML got the nod to chalk-up his hands and dig out the French/English dictionaries. We packed our life in the city and hit the road to what we considered the far east. Believe me when I tell you the first two years were not even a little bit easy for me. And I say “I decided to tough it out” because I was the person who had given up a lucrative position in Toronto to move to a remote farmhouse rental five miles outside of the Town of Picton without a job. I loved my job in Toronto. I was on my way up the ladder— all the way to a glass ceiling, I suppose. But,it was a good place to work and the bills got paid. It was difficult for me to get used to being “at home” all of the time. At home where our water source was a well shared by three households, a party-line shared by two households, a herd of dairy cows living across the road, mice in the pantry, squirrels in the attic and virtually no television reception. Life in the County got a bit easier when we moved into Picton and I began to meet people, but let’s just say it was touch and go for many, many months. Living in Toronto, I didn’t need a driver’s licence, we had public transit. Good thing I didn’t have access to a get-away car in the first two years of life in a small town. I would have taken a chance on driving without a permit.
I am grateful this community started to grow on me. The County does that to a person. After 10 months in the wilds of farm country, we moved into Picton. I started reading the local newspaper. Heck for a brief period of time I worked at the Gazette, typing columns for three of the County’s legendary columnists. While being a Compu-graphic operator at the Gazette, I learned not to mess with what “arry says”. I also learned the same lesson for Verne Armstrong. They were good experiences that I’ve carried over to my life with The Times. Apparently everyone has a personal style of getting their “views” across to the readers. Today, I’m grateful that the Gazette is still on the streets and that it hasn’t really lost its flavour as a small town news source. Although, being a “news source” for any small town newspaper is really a stretch. I appreciate the rehashing of news with the personal point-of-views. I, however, do miss the social sections. It was always a good laugh to read about what was happening in the Schoharie column. We don’t do enough of “having tea with our neighbours” or of motoring to Glenora for a lovely supper of fresh-caught perch with strawberries and cake to follow with our in-laws.
I have had enough of the complicated times we live in and am trying to tone things down a bit in my life. I’m grateful for my family living closer than they once were. I enjoy all of the moments with them, sharing a coffee and a laugh and accommodations. I would be grateful if our community didn’t lose its small town feel, but I know it’s almost impossible to hang on when moving forward means chain stores and fast food outlets and digital parking attendants on Main Street. I’m gratefully embracing my grumpy-old-lady person and thinking about administering CPR to creating the social column in my life.
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