Hollyhocks
Lily Travis was a Latin and History teacher I had in High School. To me she was quite elderly...(probably 60 to 65), a small lady with grayish, wiry hair, wore “spectacles”, was a bit eccentric! In light conversation prior to a lesson one day, she chatted about her gardens and the necessity of correct sun exposure for specific flowers to flourish.
Her house was in the Terrace Hill subdivision of north Brantford (not far from my father's service station) with one wall benefiting from a southern exposure. She had attempted for a couple years to grow hollyhocks along this barren wall...without success.
(My mother had grown these attractive flowers on both our farms along protected sides of our homes. Hollyhocks require and love a deep, rich loamy soil. Technically, being biennials, hollyhocks flower every two years.)
With some hesitancy one afternoon, I discussed my mother's advice with Miss Travis for her hollyhocks. The following spring, she gladdened us with her glowing heart and growing success of these stately flowers. I so yearned to see the long-awaited result of her hollyhocks! Discovering the address, and after classes one afternoon, I walked by her white stucco home.
Yes! There they were! Tall stately stems, 1 to 3 metres high, with delicate colours from deep crimsons and maroons to blush pinks, whites and pale yellows. How Beautiful...set against a pale blue sky and floating white clouds, a maple tree and a couple evergreens. The scene was most impressive...a wall-sized-painted mural!
She later commented to me that her soil was too clay-laden;
even the added nursery-advised-nutrients failed to solve her problem.
Depression Years
My parents were married in 1929 and like many, struggled through the Depression Years. My uncle and aunt with three children lived in a nearby village with very little employment available. Aunt Evelyn's quandary was, “What shall we do at Christmas time?” No Money!...for the usual seasonal purchases...not even to purchase a Christmas tree! It is said that “Necessity is the Mother of Invention”... if one is enabled and invigorated to apply it!
One wall of her living room she painted white. On December 1, while her children were at school, she painted a winter sky on this white wall; then sketched, prior to painting, a tall green-needled pine tree. Uncle Leslie and my three cousins became most excited about her project. She inspired them each day to “decorate the tree”, one item at a time per day...snow on the evergreen branches...ornaments...small candles aflame...fancy garlands...two or three colourful birds...a treetop star...gift-wrapped presents at the tree's base...even a couple snowmen...each individually painted by a family member.
On Christmas Eve, this was one happy family...
with eggnog and home-baked treats;
with the reading of “Twas the Night Before Christmas”
the children had visions of Santa upon their rooftop.
Outcomes are often influenced and affected by prevailing circumstances...
over which one has little or no control.
It is then significant to pursue other avenues to achieve a degree of success.
It is time to FOCUS:
Formulate a New Plan
Open your Mind
Consider your Skills
Understand your Ultimate Goal
Seek a Solution.
To Drive...or Not to Drive
Cars, Airplanes and Trains had long been a fascination to my father. Near our village farm, was a railroad track with two or three freight trains daily “whistling and steaming” their way across township and county roads. I believe my Dad would love to been a train engineer.
During WWII, the RCAF trained would-be-pilots at a local airport, which following the War, became a casual flying base for instructors and students, and for those who were affluent enough to own their own planes. Frequently, we would drive by Brantford Airport on a Sunday afternoon, park beside the nearest fence possible to observe the take-off and landings of small planes. My father could be entertained for hours...while my mother, sister and I would tolerate these times which gave him such great satisfaction!
There were many luxuries our family did not have; yet Dad always had a decent car to drive, each being a family vehicle he'd drive for several years. When I was married in June, 1962, he bought a new Skylark Buick to celebrate the occasion. Powder blue with ivory vinyl faux-convertible-roof to drive as Father of the Bride. Truly an exciting hot humid day on June 30th.
In November of that year, four days before his 56th November 8 birthday, he had a heart attack on a Sunday morning while my mother was at church. When she returned...found him on the living room floor.! How Sad! He would never live to see his grandchildren...never to attend his other daughter's wedding...never to reap the benefits of his many farming years and development of his personally built and owned service station/garage! My mother was devastated!
The Skylark Buick patiently sat in the carport of our red brick bungalow. Mid-November, I discussed with Mom what she planned to do with the car. She did not drive...nor ever had. We considered options. I recommended she take driving lessons...she was most hesitant! Our compromise was that I would take “her car” to Hamilton. (I was teaching and would drive it to and from school over the winter months. On weekends when we visited her, we'd take the Buick and drive her to visit friends and relatives.) On Saturday, December 1, we drove to her home for a delicious lunch, to then retrieve “her car”.
The skies clouded, darkened and hung low; fog set in “thick as pea soup” as we approached Hwy 53. Visibility was almost nil! It is a 2-lane paved road with no lights between the eastern outskirts of the city and Hamilton. I drove this Skylark Buick with window down (unable to see rear car lights ahead of me and therefore could not assess the road's edge or curves) driving ever so slowly to stay inside each yellow centre line as I saw them.
I was thinking, “ Today is Grey Cup Day...the CFL (Canadian Football League) championship game between the Hamilton Tiger Cats and the Winnipeg Blue Bombers...being played in Toronto along Lake Ontario's waterfront. The fog must be atrocious there!” Radio stated that due to a thick fog blanket rolling in from the Lake, the 33,000 fans could not see the play action on the field...the receivers lost sight of the ball...returning punt kicks became next to impossible. With 9 minutes and 29 seconds remaining in the fourth quarter, the game was suspended with Winnipeg leading 28 to 27. The game continued on Sunday afternoon...score remaining the same. The 50th Grey Cup became known as the Fog Bowl! It remains the only Grey Cup game ever suspended during play! And considered to be one of the 10 best Grey Cup Games of all time. What a memorable day! And a piece of Canadian Sports' History!
It was my mother's decision in the Spring of '63 to take driving lessons. In many ways she considered it beneficial...she could purchase groceries at her convenience...could drive to church activities away from her home parish...she could possibly drive to Hamilton to visit us...to drive to Toronto to visit Eileen (Lee) might be “out of the question”...until she achieved some driving experience!
She studied the Manual. She diligently took lessons and paid extra for her instructor's help between lesson times. She tried the Driver's Test...but Failed! The examiner advised her that she was too cautious, too hesitant and indecisive. Following another 10 lessons, she again drove the required test...and Failed Again! She apparently was in wrong lanes to make turns...often failing to signal properly.
She was not discouraged....but “Determined to Pass This Test”! On her third attempt, she and her Skylark Buck qualified to Gain the Licence to Drive!
I assure you, she would never be cited for speeding! She remained cautious about driving...only on “good weather days”. The Buick was well maintained, taken frequently through car washes and no one else allowed to drive it (except my husband and me). By the summer, she “braved it” to drive to our home on Hamilton Mountain...but always leaving to return home in daylight. After my sister was married she ventured to spend a few days with her and Bob in Goderich (on Lake Huron). My little boy would frequently visit Grandma in Brantford for a few days. She'd drive him to parks to play, to children's plays...even to McDonald's for burgers and fries!
To drive this car, was a Dream she thought she would never see realized.
Merle Baird-Kerr
written June 4, 2011
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