In the Air Tonight

The turn is on the cusp.

The fall turn, when there is a noticeable shift in the air, in the river, in the way we think.

As it is on our lakes, where temperature and weather's weird alchemy turn the water on the bottom over to the top, flip it like a pancake, pushing the sour suffocating depths into the sun and forcing fresh water down to the muddy bottom for scaly wintering creatures, so too is it in the air; in the trees. In our thoughts.

Kiosk Fall 2011 and Bear Poo

Got an e-mail from my friend Alan in Newfoundland who wondered why I've been so quiet lately. I've been fishing, Alan! Dave'll tell you – I haven't been quiet, I've just been noisy in a different, internet-free place.

Kiosk is one of the northernmost camping areas in Algonquin, one of Ontario's most famous and largest provincial parks. The are no roads into its vast interior, just a loose waterway of canoe routes, lonely dark lakes and black forests. The bottom end of the park has a highway and several campgrounds running through it (we go to one of those campgrounds regularly, Lake of Two Rivers), but there are really only two campgrounds in the north part, Brent and Kiosk. Both are at the end of long dirt roads stretching through Crown land. Both are former sawmill and railway villages, now ghost towns with only foundation remnants as clues of once thriving communities. And both are launching points for adventure-seekers looking for true wilderness experiences.

While Dave and I have camped in the interior, our trips to Kiosk are far more comfortable. We bring our trailer and our aluminum motorboat and spend four days every spring and every fall looking to catch and release some big fish, spend some time together and catch our breath. No jobs, no kids, no pressure.

The weather was downright terrible. Grey skies and rain the whole time we were there – except on Sunday, when it was time to pack up and leave. Oh well. We've never let the weather put a crimp in our style. We fished, we rode our bikes, we read our books, we played cards. We celebrated our first wedding anniversary in a place we have both come to love as much as we love each other.

I took this picture to show you the difference between water levels in the spring and in the fall. This past spring we couldn't get under this bridge because the water was so high. Last weekend the water was so low there was barely enough water for our boat – the difference is at least four feet. The bridge, by the way, is part of the abandoned railway line built by lumber baron J.R. Booth in the 1800s. It's the main reason Brent and Kiosk existed, with sawmills cutting up the rich forests of Algonquin and shipping them, via railway, all over the world. Before Algonquin was cut bare of trees, it was mostly giant pines and spruce that grew here. The regrowth has brought maple to the park, making Algonquin a gorgeous place to be in the fall.

Normally you would never be able to perch on a rock in the rushing Amable du Fond, the river that connects Algonquin's northern lakes: Kiosk, Manitou and Tea. We've never seen the river so quiet but took the opportunity to walk up the waterfall and take some photos. Dave brought his line and tried to wangle a brookie onto his line but even the fish thought there wasn't enough water.

This was my fish, a nice 4 pound bass. Dave, of course, did fish holding duties, baiting the hook duties and looking good in his rain suit duties. I did all the real work, wrestling that beauty in, kicking and screaming. We posed him for a pic, than he flicked his tail and disappeared into the water. 

Dave also caught a nice bass - not as nice as mine, though. .. jest saying...

And a trip to Kiosk just isn't complete without a lake trout. Dave was happy to snag this one.

Isn't this ridiculously cute? I know. You should have seen her waddling around in it.

When I was taking this photo I couldn't see Misty in the viewfinder – she completely blended in with the orange leaves and dark water of the Amable du Fond waterfall.

Because my friend Linda requested it, here's the bear poop in our front yard. Yup, we went all the way up north to see wildlife and we come home to see that a bear had ripped down our bird feeder and then crapped in our front yard. Linda, you can see the pitts of the choke cherries the bear had been eating. Judging by the freshness, the bear had been there within the last day. And judging by the size, it was a BIG bear. For ages we were under the false impression that there were no wild animals in our neighbourhood, other than a few foxes, raccoons and skunks – but now we know there are bears so we have to be a little more careful. We did see some wildlife in Kiosk – on our way there we had a rabbit run right towards our vehicle – Dave had to swerve to avoid it. The hare had eyes as big as saucers. A little bit down the road we saw the reason why: a fisher hunting it. "Run, bunny, run!" we shrieked out the window. Dave honked the horn and scared the fisher into the bushes. We hope we gave the bunny enough of a break to survive.

Our busted bird feeder with poo in the background.

The top of the feeder the bear had ripped off.

The wire that had held the feeder until the bear decided to have a closer look.  

Be right back

Excuse me while I go take a picture of bear crap on our front lawn.
Won't take but a minute.
Dave said, "Go take a photo of the bear crap before it gets dark."
It's a sentence you don't hear every day.
Be right back.

27 Pounds!

Five-and-a-half pounds lost this week!

Twenty-seven total!

Me, braggin!

ME, DANCING!

Thank god it's Monday

You ever have one of those weekends that is so busy that Monday seems like a holiday?

Yup, I'm looking forward to sitting on my butt all day staring at a computer screen. No lifting heavy boats or outboard motors or canoes. No cleaning the house. No walking around the fair. No riding my bike up big hills. No writing another 1,100 words on my novel. No laundry, no dishes, no grocery shopping .... you get the picture.

It was a great weekend, truly, and the weather was spectacular here.

We were out for a bike ride along the riverbank and we came up to this old church or schoolhouse that is now someone's home, and it is the most adorable place you could imagine living in: bell still intact, brown wood siding, original windows, shiny red tin roof, gorgeous gardens, all overlooking the river. So we came up to this special little house, a house hobbits might live in, and there, transcendent in the sunshine, was a sugar maple with its ruby red autumn coat, waving slightly in the breeze, with the red roof of the schoolhouse as a brilliant backdrop. My breath actually caught in my throat for a moment and I thought, I love this time of year.

Later, Dave and Sam and I were sucking back a cold pop after our ride and we were talking about all the reasons we love fall: pumpkin pie, crisp fresh air, no blackflies or mosquitoes, and fabulous scenery. Sam says, "I've got one more reason."

"What?"

"Fall is when the best video games come out."

Oh yeah.

How could I possibly forget that?

*shaking my head*

For his birthday Sam's father pre-ordered the new Gears of War 3 videogame. Sam's been counting down the days until it's delivered – I guess the game's website has a countdown that measures the Big Event in minutes and even seconds. All weekend long Sam was bouncing off the walls about Gears of War because TODAY IS THE BIG DAY.

It's like Christmas around here, only I didn't have to cook a turkey or wrap any presents. The other night Sam got up in the middle of the night and started to microwave milk for himself – obviously so excited about the game that he couldn't sleep. I fixed his milk for him and sent him back to bed, only to hear him get up a half an hour later. Dave got up to see what he was doing and he was just standing in the middle of the living room, in the dark, in his underwear, just standing there. Dave, being the loving, doting stepfather that he is, said something gentle like, "What in HELL are you doing? Get your ass back to bed!"

And so the weekend went.

Thank god it's Monday.

If I get run over by a truck, just remember I love you

I didn't have time for my exercise bike this morning so I decided, just now, to ride my real bicycle to work.
Man I get some crazy ideas sometimes.
I'm not nervous about the distance – it's only a six minute drive – but I am worried about the traffic on the highway.
So, in case I get schmucked, I just want to say "I love you" to my kids and my husband and my mom and all my family and friends.
And "screw you" to the idjit who ran me over.
Ciao!

Diet Tip#1: Be Prepared

That there was last Tuesday's lunch.

And that huge pile of food on the counter doesn't even include the fat-free salad dressing, two apples and a banana I threw in the bag when I was ready to go.

Well no, it was my lunch and my dinner because on Tuesdays I work late. So to prevent my ravenous self from raiding Crunchie bars from the vending machine, I packed two meals. Truly, being prepared is the biggest thing you do can do to lose weight.

Oh, but it's a gawdawful amount of work. Peeling, chopping, boiling, rinse, repeat.

I feel like I'm running a diner.

Take this morning, for example. I boiled a chicken breast for lunch and an egg for breakfast. I washed and chopped strawberries, which I added to a bowl of Fibre 1 bran cereal and then added non-fat, no-sugar yogurt. (Delish, by the way.) Then I chopped half a head of lettuce, a couple of carrots and the chicken. I peeled the egg, and ate it, then grabbed a pita from the freezer. I packed the chicken separate from the salad so the lettuce wouldn't wilt, threw it all in a bag and added a banana and an apple.

It's a lot of work! But it's SO worth it – I have a healthy, well-balanced breakfast and lunch, with fruit to nosh on for snacks, and I feel full and satisfied and totally immune to the charms of the vending machine.
Part of my problem before is I never ate breakfast and never made time to pack a lunch so it was a regular thing to go out and grab some kind of greasy fast food.

You're probably also thinking, holy mother of all that is hungry, is she EVER eating a lot!

Yeah! I am! But more on that later. For now, be like the Girl Guides: Be Prepared!

Oh! And I was down another two and a half pounds this week, for a grand total of 21and a half since the beginning of August.

I. Feel. Fabulous.

Let's csi all over the Tim card's ass

Alright, who did it?

Who bought a $10 gift card for Tim Horton's coffee shop and stuck it under the windshield wiper of my Jeep?

Somebody did, because there it was. With my name on the outside and no giver's name on the inside. But nobody's telling. I asked everyone at work. I've bugged Dave until he's mad at me. I've asked my family and friend(s). Nobody's fessing up.

This could very well be the Enduring Mystery of My Life. (That, and who gave me the floral patterned china coaster set for a wedding present, because the card fell off and I don't know... but they're lovely! Thank you! Whoever you are!)

Mysteries drive me nuts. In fact, my boss suggested that somebody spent that ten dollars exceedingly well in the drive-Cathy-nuts department.

Let's examine the facts as I know them:

Friday afternoon, about 3:30 p.m., Dave showed up at my office with four coffees from Tim Horton's. He often brings in coffee for the girls I work with because he knows how to treat a woman and realizes it's always in his best interest to be nice to us.

Friday night I finished work about 4:50 p.m. after an exceedingly long short week (the short weeks are always the longest because you do just as much damn work, only in a shorter period of time). I went to the parking lot, which is directly behind our building, got in my Jeep and drove home. I pulled into the driveway and Dave was already there, busily doing yard work.

"What's that?" he said, from across the yard.

"What's what?" sez I.

"On the windshield. There's something under the windshield wiper."

"Huh," sez I, and walked around to the front of the vehicle to look. A Tim's gift card sat under the wiper blades. I had driven all the way home and not even noticed. But Dave noticed, from across the yard.

It said "Cathy W" on the outside, in round almost-fancy letters. It looked a lot like Dave's writing. I tried to thank him but he wouldn't have any part of it. In fact, he started to get angry at me for insisting it was him. Now, he almost never gets angry at me, even though I may deserve it. And he can't keep a secret worth beans. I don't know how many times I've inadvertently ruined a surprise because he couldn't keep a goofy grin off his face. But he wasn't grinning as he vehemently denied giving me the card.

"Huh," sez I. Because I am a master conversationalist.

I then proceeded to ask everybody I knew. I even posted it on Facebook. Nobody claimed responsibility.

I was like, feck, even roadside bomber bad guys claim responsibility – why won't anybody admit to giving me a card for free coffee?

So I'm asking. One more time.

Who gave me the Tim's card????????

Happy Birthday, Sam!

Sam-I-Am,

That Sam-I-Am.

How I love my Sam-I-Am.

I could eat him up with jam.

Happy Birthday, Sam-I-Am.

No secret, I've been going to Weight Watchers* for seven weeks and one of my biggest supporters is my now-11-year-old son, Sam.

I hadn't seen him for three weeks because his father was on holidays and had the kids with him on the weekends I normally would have had them. (Missed them fierce, by the way.) Sam never forgot that I was on a diet, though, always remembering to ask me, "how much did you lose this week, Mom?"

When I finally saw him on Friday he said, "You even LOOK skinnier."

Fine words, those. Of course I had to milk it. "Oh yeah?" sez I. "Where exactly do I look skinnier?"

He looked me up and down, analyzing, then said, "Your outline is skinnier."

(I got him a really, really good birthday present.)

* There was no meeting here on Monday, which is my WW night, because of the Labour Day holiday so I haven't been weighed for almost two weeks. Except for Sam's birthday cake, a hot dog at the drive-in (that wasn't even very good - does that count?) and a pot luck last Sunday, I have been on plan. I'm hoping for a few more pounds down the drain to make that outline of mine even skinnier.

An Ugly Picture of Me

And from the Ugly Pictures of Me Department, here's a real beauty that was taken last Sunday during the book launch of The Hidden World of Huckleberry Rock.

The two good-looking people on either side of me are author Andrew Wagner-Chazalon and photographer Bev McMullen. They hosted a rather nice shin-dig over at a fancy schmancy golf club ... the kind of place where they might frisk you at the front gate to see if you're rich or you're rabble. Nice place, yes, but man it was hotter than the hounds of hell in there. You mean to say you can afford to build a place like that but you can't afford air conditioning? I was dripping sweat. The back of my hair was soaked. Perspiration was running off my chin like a leaky faucet.

And there I was hobnobbing with people I'd never met before, introducing myself with soaking wet enthusiasm to people I have long admired. There was fellow blogger Malcolm Robertson, cool as a cucumber, and there I was all fat and flustered and soaked, goofily trying to be cool, and there was that look in Malcolm's eyes – that scared look like he was dealing with a lunatic. You know the look, right? You don't? Well, I'm pretty familiar with it. If you looked as bad as me, you'd know it, too.

Oh, and what's with my t-shirt? Why's it hanging all funny like that? It looks like I'm wearing a flour sack. OMG, and the neck is all stretched funny. Andrew and Bev are probably thinking, who is this flour-sack-wearing hick dripping sweat all over our shoulders? And why won't my eyes open?

To think I lost 19 pounds before this picture was taken. Can you imagine what I looked like before??? GAK.

By the way, the book is Fab. You. Luss. You can buy it at the Muskoka Bookhouse in Bracebridge or by going online at www.muskokabookhouse.com. I promise, there are no ugly pictures of me in it.

Popular Posts

I's tired, lawd, I's tired.. don't ask me why I start talking with a southern accent when I'm tired and I'm from northern Ontario, I's jest do.

Before I go to bed I just wanted to point out the Popular Posts section at the right side of this blog. It's a Blogger gadget that tallies up the posts people visit most and ranks them. I think it's mostly perverts and potato chip fetishes that visit my blog. Your fine self excluded, of course.

The most popular post I've ever posted is Shook Up Like A Bag of Chips because everybody is always googling photos of potato chip bags. WHY? Just tell me why? Is it a kinky thing?  I mean, WTF people? I can understand eating them but googling them? Weird chip-googling weirdos.

I totally understand the X is for X-Rated post and the Beavers and Other Endings post. Fecking pervs. But I don't get The Ants Go Squishy One By One, unless they're looking for exterminators. Or maybe it's sickos who are bored with burning ants under a magnifying glass and want to try something more hands-on.

As for the Rant #3? Who the hell knows.

It's certainly not good writing that keeps 'em coming back for more because these were some of the WORST posts I've ever posted.

The only thing I know for sure is people got a potato chip fixation and if I really want to get Dave's engine revving I'd be just as far ahead to dress up in a potato chip bag as I would in Saran Wrap.

The Hidden World of Huckleberry Rock

Bev McMullen.

I admired her long before I started working with her. I was working on the magazine Sideroads of Muskoka, in the Huntsville office, and Bev worked in Bracebridge, and even though the two towns are only 25 minutes apart and we worked for the same company, we never met. I think I saw her at a Christmas party once. She was as loud and gregarious as she was tiny. Like a little blonde blazing ball of personality.

Photographers from all over would submit photos to Sideroads and the best of them came from this woman named Bev McMullen. She had such an eye for it. Her pictures were always painted with rich, strong colour and other photos paled beside hers. I remember wondering who this Bev person was and, when we finally met, I was a little bit starstruck. 

Andrew Wagner-Chazalon. 
Omgawd, I never get his last name straight. For some reason I want to put a Chase in there. Like, Andrew Chase-Wazalon. Even now, as I write this, I am double-checking the spelling of his name. As with Bev, I knew of Andrew’s work with the glossy Muskoka magazine Beyond the City long before we met. Glossy makes it sound hard and unapproachable so maybe glossy isn’t the right word because everything Andrew does is approachable, like the man himself. When I started in Bracebridge, Andrew was away on a leave of absence, living in Australia with his wife and their children. He showed up one day with a big smile on his face and the trace of an accent. Bev describes him as an English professor and he does have that way about him. Bespectacled, bearded. Tousled curly hair. Khaki shorts and sandals, I think. Professorial, yes, but sweet, too. Always takes time to listen, no matter how imminent the approaching deadline. 

Tomorrow Bev and Andrew will launch the latest book they have published together. The Hidden World of Huckleberry Rock is a purse-sized treasure of short stories written by Andrew with drop dead gorgeous photos by Bev, all about one rather ordinary place in Muskoka, the heart of Ontario’s cottage country. The launch takes place from 1 p.m. to 3 p.m. in the Rock Grill at Red Leaves Resort in Minett. If you’re in the neighbourhood, drop by and and pick up an autographed copy. Because the book is tiny in stature (kind of like Bev), it’s also not expensive. I think it retails for under 20 bucks – forgive me if I’m wrong, guys. But it is a sweet bargain at that price. For anyone who lives in or loves Muskoka, it’s a perfect gift; a perfect microcosm of one seemingly inconsequential place that harbours a ridiculous wealth of fascinating stories and, until now, hidden secrets.

“It’s really clear that this is a special place to many people,” says Andrew. “One guy told me he proposed to his wife up there. Someone else was married there. Another person has a stained glass art image of the place, which his parents gave him as a wedding present. People have scattered ashes up there. While I don’t know of any births, I’m pretty sure some babies have been conceived up there. It’s just a remarkable bit of landscape that so many people call their own.

“I was thinking about my favourite places in the world, and realized something: they're almost all rocky places. The Tongariro Crossing in New Zealand (an amazing hike around the mountain that played Mount Doom in Lord of the Rings); Gros Morne in Newfoundland; Peggy's Cove in Nova Scotia; Mount Wellington in Tasmania; Uluru (aka Ayers Rock) in the Australian outback. And most of them have the added beauty of rock meeting water, a feature they share with Huckleberry Rock, as well as the added bonus of being able to sit up high and look down low. I think that's one of the reason Huckleberry Rock is so treasured, because it's one of the few places in Muskoka that allows that. Lots of rocky places, lots of water, but not that many places where you can climb up on a rock and sit high and look out over water far below you. It's also got the bonus of being a place where your view transforms dramatically as you climb. You start out in woods, and in a very short time enter a place where there are almost no trees. That makes it a more interesting place, too.”

If anyone knows an interesting place when they see it, it’s Andrew and Bev. They’ve done more traveling than anyone I know. Bev just returned from a once-in-a-lifetime journey with headhunters – and not the kind who find you employment!

Bev says, “Andrew and I are born adventurers and explorers, we quest to see new things and simply go to the ends of the world to have this wow effect. He to Australasia and me to the Orient and South Pacific and South China Sea. We have both travelled further and to other places but the itchy feet and need to escape is always there. Muskoka offers both of us the escape appeal as simply around the corner is something to marvel at; if that isn’t enough a two hour ride will take you to a ghost town, or a great mining town, or waterfall. We both love kayaking and canoeing.

“We were offered the project of doing the book on Huckleberry Rock last year. We worked on it diligently and Andrew did the writing and I did the photography and found stories as well. We both do everything to make the book happen. The fresh new idea of new size, great little stories and lots of pretty pictures with an affordable price point should be a hit. The traditional coffee table books sold for $50 to $60 and now people can’t afford them. Our books are a series and are great cottage and hostess gifts. We no sooner finish one book when we are on about the next. Both Andrew and I are obsessive about the need to create. We both, when time permits, will be writing about our travels. I have chapters finished and my publisher Yellow Toadstool has agreed to make it into an e-book so I will have some writing ahead of me this winter.”

Bev and Andrew seem an unlikely pairing. They don’t hobnob around the office and if you didn’t know they produced books together, you’d never even guess there was a connection. But people who know them, people who see them together professionally, or see and appreciate their work, say they carry on like an old married couple.

Andrew agrees. “Yes, we work well together. And there is a marriage-like element to it, as we learn to put up with each other’s idiosyncracies and draw on each other's strengths. We've laughed at the fact that many people don't know what to make of our relationship, particularly those who have seen Bev and me together but have never seen me with my real wife, Sharon.

“Bev and I started working together around 2002. She came into the office as a would-be freelancer – I thought she was another crazy photographer, until I saw her work. Then I knew she was a really talented crazy photographer. I soon had her shooting freelance assignments, then got her doing a column once I realized she had a real knack for finding interesting stories. Her columns – Chasing the Light, later renamed to Worth a Thousand Words – were very popular additions to the Muskokan (a local summer newspaper).

“We soon started going to stories together, because Bev can’t write and I can’t shoot! (Well, neither of us does the other’s job as well, at least). We started talking about doing a book, which resulted in Muskoka Traditions, which Boston Mills Press published in 2005. We then started work on a second, called Forgotten Muskoka, but that ended up getting left by the wayside while we worked on other projects. It will probably be revived, because there are too many good stories there to leave behind. I did a book without Bev (Grace and Speed, with painter Doug Dunford) while Bev worked on Carve Your Own Totem Pole (Firefly books). I was brought into that project as an editor and ghost writer, which was a lot of fun,” Andrew says. “When I came back from Australia, we started talking about doing another book together, which became The Hidden World of Huckleberry Rock. The topic was suggested by a mutual friend who had a great love of the place. Bev had been shooting there for years, and had a great store of photos, but I wasn’t sure how I was going to get stories. But the more people I talked to about it, the more I realized how special it was to so many people. Nobody had any big stories – no epic tales of adventure – but everyone has a little story. That just seemed to be the way to do the book – gathering those little stories, those anecdotes together. 

“I started out just mentioning the project to people, and soon found people telling me their stories, or telling me about people who had stories. Many of the didn’t make it into the book, partly because they’re still coming in. I’m planning to set up a facebook page, so people can go online and share those stories with each other.”

Stories .. it’s all about the stories, this book. Wonderful short real-life stories, all written with Andrew’s classic style. I’m not the only one who appreciates Andrew’s natural storytelling abilities. Bev happens to be one of his biggest fans.

“Andrew is a great writer, I compare him to Pierre Berton and Roy MacGregor. I truly love Andrew as a mentor and best friend, he is genuinely that nice, he never gets mad at me which is hard to believe.”

Andrew says his favourite story isn’t even in the book. “It's the story I was told by one of the guys who owned the property, and who ended up donating it to the township to make it into a park. He bought it as part of a package of land, and didn't really know what he had until someone took him up there. He looked out and said, ‘This is gorgeous. Too nice to belong to one person – it should be a park.’ That's such a marvellous sentiment, followed by terrific actions. I love the spirit of the place that inspired him to do that, and to then convince two other owners to sell or give away their land up there as well.”

Bev has hundreds of photos of Huckleberry Rock and it wasn’t easy for her to choose which of her babies to publish.

“Trying to sort the pictures for the book was hard for me,” she says. “Each image has a story or a tail, it was hard but Andrew was great and in the end I got what I wanted. However I did lose a disc and I was so upset because it was my best stuff. We found the disc when the book was on the press and was able to get a couple of those images of timed exposures into the final copy.”

Thank goodness for that. Already people have commented on how beautiful the cover photography by Bev is. The inside pages are just as beautiful.

I asked them, how do they do it? Have busy jobs and busy lives and manage to produce such exceptional books?

Andrew says it best. “Why do we keep writing books? I think it's because there are always more tales to tell. Bev keeps shooting, I keep hearing stories, and eventually we look around and realize we've got something that should be put into a book.”

Best of luck with The Hidden World of Huckleberry Rock, Bev and Andrew. And best wishes also for all the projects you two talented folk produce in the future. Knowing you guys, there will be many more. It’s a pleasure for me to write about your latest book, and to see you in the kitchen, heating up coffee or putting a lunch salad together or talking about plans for the weekend. You’re one of the reasons I love getting up in the morning and going to work.

See you at the launch!

Coming Soon

Tomorrow I am going to have an entire story but this morning I have only a tease.

Two very dear people I work with are launching their new book on Sunday and they're inviting everyone in the Muskoka area to come help them celebrate.

Bev McMullen is a talented photographer and charming sales rep at the newspaper I work for in Bracebridge.


Andrew Wagner-Chazalon is the equally talented editor of some of the company's slickest publications, including Beyond the City magazine. Both are sweet and fun to be around, as well as being prolific collaborators on some pretty amazing books.

Their latest, The Hidden World of Huckleberry Rock, is GORGEOUS and it's being launched this Sunday, September 4 at the Rock Grill, at Red Leaves in Minett. The launch runs from 1 p.m. to 3 p.m. I am going to be there with bells on – wouldn't miss it!

I've been working on a wee bit of a feature story about Bev and Andrew. I plan on posting it tomorrow morning. I hope you drop by, give it a read and, if you live in Muskoka, pop by on Sunday to congratulate these two and give their talented hands a shake.

Till tomorrow then!