Along the Twelve

Just as the mighty Niagara River flows into Lake Ontario so do a number of creeks that are found along the south-western shores of the lake.  The early settlers named them according to the number of miles they were from the river.

The community that eventually grew into present day St. Catharines, Ontario was on Twelve Mile Creek and was sometimes simply referred to as "The Twelve".

You can see Twelve Mile Creek in the centre of the picture.  Parts of it were incorporated into the first three Welland Canals.  Lake Ontario is in the upper right. Along the bottom are the colours of the abundant harvest that comes from our rich farmland.  The urban areas along The Twelve are represented by the houses at the top.

The 406 Highway that runs through the peninsula and joins up with the Queen Elizabeth Highway - Niagara's link with Hamilton, Toronto, Montreal and  New York runs parallel to the waterway in the picture.

This is where I live. It's home.  

Get sexy, Fight Back, Vote Green



Farmer in North Pelham prunes orchard this week.



Not Sexy:

(Not too likely you'll hear about it.)

Last year the Federal Government set aside $22.3M for Niagara farmers to pull out fruit trees.

This year the Pelham Mayor and Town Council are valiantly fighting a Provincial Bill that will allow more of our prime agricultural land to be given over to developers.




Sexier:

(You might hear about it, but it isn't clear about why it is happening.)

The canneries are closed, family farms are being sold, unemployment is high, food banks are running out of food, 5,400 children in our public school system alone are in need.


Here in the heart of Canada's green belt our grocery stores are jammed with produce from China, Mexico, Argentina etc.





Sexiest:

(It's everywhere.)

 The big guys in the  Broadcasting Consortium win.

The Green Party with its ideas about sustainable resources is barred from the televised leaders debate.

Get Sexy, Fight Back! 

Vote Green.

Related articles

• Canada News Report | Green Party Slam Poetry "How to get rid of your bad government" (socialmediasnews.wordpress.com)
• N.B. Green leader angry about debate exclusion (cbc.ca)
• Greens file court challenge over debate snub (cbc.ca)

High Flyers

Last April was cold, wet and stormy. The purple martin house that stood on this property for thirty years came crashing to the ground during a particularly violent storm. Unfortuanately one bird was caught inside the house and died.  (Catastrophes in North Pelham 5/14/10)

The other seven birds seemed to be in shock and stood on the ground staring at the house for hours. They didin't even react when I approached them. It was terribly sad. They stayed around the site for several days but by the time the weather had cleared and the brand new bird house was up they seemed to have disappeared.

I was worried they wouldn't be back.

But this photo was taken this week. I counted over twenty of the cocky little guys swooping and buzzing around the bird house. They are having the time of their lives, chirping loudly to each other, terrorizing the cats and gobbling up all of our mosquitoes. (I've read that scientists say they don't eat as many mosquitoes as people think they do, but I can tell you - they eat enough.)

In the late afternoon they take off for Lake Ontario where they have their big feed high above the water and then at dusk they get back in time to dive bomb the cats, Squeaker, Bonny, Claude and Martha Stewart as they head out on evening mouse patrol.

Martins are a type of swallow. They winter in South America. The males are black with a purplish sheen while the females are lighter. They are a clear marker of the changing of the seasons and that is probably why I like them so much. I await their arrival anxiously in the spring and I'm always saddened to see them leave in the fall.

But in between their arrival and departure, during these hot, muggy summer nights, they are a source of endless joy.

Francie's Instructions for the Care and Raising of your Martin House

Niagara Wines vs Toronto Whines

Here I am auditioning for the "Shake Off the City" campaign. 
This is how real Niagarans drink wine in vineyards.

David threw a stone and hurt Goliath's feelings.

That seems to be the upshot of this whole Toronto/Niagara advertising war kerfuffle.

I mean really.

George Smitherman, Toronto mayoralty candidate makes a personal trip to the Niagara Parks Commission chairman to deliver a letter complaining about an ad campaign? Surely there were more important issues in Toronto. Smitherman should win the contest for sniffing out the best photo ops not the job as the mayor of the largest city in Canada.

The television commercials, called "Shake Off the City", were intended to bring more Torontonians (and their money), to Niagara. The ones I saw were inoffensive. A young couple being splashed by a car in the big city, confronting a wall of graffiti, having a bike wheel stolen, etc. The camera would then quickly cut to a scene of one of the fun things they could be doing in Niagara instead.

Now, I must say, it really depends on your definition of fun. The first one I saw showed a young couple sitting at a small table in the middle of a vineyard that looked as if it had been vacuumed, drinking Niagara wine.  It was the middle of a hot, sunny day. My reaction was a headache and nausea.

What kind of an imbecile would come here for the humidity, the ticks, heatstroke and a hangover?

But never mind. I read in the St. Catharines Standard last night that ticket sales have gone up by 40% for Niagara attractions. But not because of the ad campaign.  It was because of all the complaining and whining that the Toronto media and politicians did.

"We couldn't afford to buy this (kind of publicity)," was the comment from the Parks Commission.

Throw that stone a little harder next time, David. Niagara could sure use another economic boost.

 

Welcoming the Second Sister

In the early days of the earth, Corn was so pleased to be able to feed the people that she asked the Great Spirit if there was anything else she could do to help humanity.

The Great Spirit considered her request and eventually formed a beautiful doll out of the husks of the corm plant and gave it to the Iroquois children. The doll's face was so lovely that as the children passed her from village to village, all of the people commented on her beauty.

Eventually the doll became very vain.

The Creator is not pleased by vanity and told her to be more humble. The doll agreed to try, but one day when she was walking by a river she saw her own reflection and stopped to admire herself.

In anger the Great spirit sent a screech owl down to earth and the owl swooped into the river and stole the doll's reflection away. The doll was never again able to see her own face.

*
To remind their children to think of spiritual and community values, rather than of themselves, Iroquois corn husk dolls continue to be made without faces.

The Second Sister

The second sister, Corn, arrived in Niagara this week and the corn is particularly tasty

but while I was reading various versions of the corn husk doll legend

I came across this sobering Iroquois prophesy.
Very disquieting when you consider the terrible oil spill off the coast of 'turtle island',(North America).
 Something to keep in mind as we enjoy the corn harvest this year.

Tears ran down the old, old, woman's cheeks, for she could see far into the future.


'Corn is sacred, everything that grows is sacred,' she said.
'But I warn you, there will come a time when the sons of your sons will forget this. Then hunger and sorrow will return to the world.'
She shook her head. 'It will not end until - unless - their grandchildren learn once more this lesson - the only lesson that is worth remembering: how to love and respect the Earth.'

---Iroquois Indian legend

Take the Gun, Leave the Asparagus

_{The hunt for wild asparagus in southern Ontario brings out the Alaskan frontierswoman in me}

_{Many years ago when I was teaching in Dawson City, Yukon, I would on occasion cross the border into Alaska. I went by river a few times. My friends and I could leave Dawson on Friday night and arrive in the village of Eagle, Alaska on Sunday. I have some fine memories of paddling down the Yukon River, eating fresh salmon and camping out under the midnight sun.}

_{Sometimes we would fly into Juneau, other times we would take the 'Top of the World Highway' and drive to Skagway or Chicken.}

_{Chicken, Alaska, in those days was about the size of Eagle but as the name implies, it didn't have the same fierce charm. What it did have was an old lady named Anne Purdy.}

_{Anne Purdy had a big gun and a super-sized Alaskan personality to go with it.}

_{When I first moved to Dawson I came across, " Tisha", a book written about her life. She had been a young New England girl who had gone north to teach school in the 1920s. She had fallen in love with a young man who was part native and the prejudice they faced kept them apart for years. Sarah Palin wasn't the first Alaskan to take advantage of Canadian health care, the climax of Mrs. Purdy's story involved a harrowing, life and death dog sled race to Dawson City for medical treatment at fifty degrees below zero.}

_{When I found out that she was still alive I decided to go and meet her.}

_{Around that time Mrs. Purdy was in the middle of a political brawl with the Alaska Bureau of Land Management. I heard her threaten to shoot every last one of the s.o.b.s if they took one step on her (disputed) property. Imagine a proud old lady, tall, with long gray hair, a floor length gingham skirt over rubber boots and a rifle she was prepared to use. The image stayed with me.}

_{Now years later, back in Ontario, I'm the old(ish) lady with the gray(ish) hair. But my land dispute isn't with a faceless bureaucracy, my dispute is with sneaky city people who steal my wild asparagus. We're talking important issues here, folks.}

_{You see, asparagus often grows on the edge of the road in Niagara, the part that is owned, (on paper), by the region. But psychologically, emotionally and spiritually, that little strip of land on the other side of the ditch belongs to the home owner.}

_{I believe that people have no business picking the home owner's asparagus from the home owner's land!}

_{So be warned, if you are on the trail of the wild asparagus in North Pelham this spring, the crazy old lady standing in the ditch will be me. Being Canadian I don't have a gun, but I have a broom, and by golly this year I intend to use the bristly end of it.}

_{So be afraid, you asparagus thieves, be very afraid...}