Sorry to hear about your back Don. I know how you feel.
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Sorry to hear about your back Don. I know how you feel.
Red Green, North of Forty: “Let's face it, these days, if you're not young, you're old. Remember, I'm pulling for you. We're all in this together."
Funny/sad thing is I just recovered from mid/upper back pain right before track day. Now, right ‘back’ into it with lower back pain. Oy.
My first work term at UW was at Western Foundry (now Wescast). There was a engineering challenge there to determine how far a human could walk across molten steel. They factored in such things as the buoyancy of a human in molten steel and the melting point of bone. They figured you could run across the surface of one of the melting furnaces and survive.
Needless to say, I did not write my work term report on this thesis.
Picking up the paper wrapped in a plastic bag at the end of the driveway the neighbour asked, "I hear bag pipes? and it's been regular this past two weeks." Jokingly I said " Oh that's Peter, the boyfriend. Yah, he likes to pipe me in, home from work, LOL, A Scottish/Canadian tradition." I said. He looked at me weird. "Oh Peter," I said, he's the daughters boy friend and the two live in the basement."
Peter is a fantastic young man. He looks down on me with nothing but respect as I look up to him and offer the same respect towards his tall lanky posture and towering Scandinavian frame. Having no idea why he pipes and never asked, but know its what his family does and respect that. Maybe his mom is Scottish? Being of French background and known as a true Acadian, always thought the bag pipes as a hideous sound and never really understood the use of that painful noise. But today alone at home (a rare occurrence in this house), two good stiff shots of Crown, just as Peter was warming the pipes, and it was at that moment. The Crown kicked in as the stress of the day flushed away, and I heard it, as he whaled some foreign Gaelic notes of love, welcome and history. It was then, I came to this conclusion. The sound, the booze, and the march into battle for love and honor?. Was this mans escape before the garage, before Fortnite, before the Mustang...?
This story is based on true facts. Peter does live in my basement and pipes with a Scandinavian name. He loves my Acadian daughter born from a Polish/Scottish/Ukranian descent mother (AKA The High Commander). This is also an exercise in writing without personal pronouns and without undertones of racism. Racism a word that is really fairly recent to an accepting Canadian Culture and is holding back the process of a united society. If you need proof of accepting Canadians just look back to 911 and the east coast as they welcomed displaced people into their homes, from around the world in good old fashioned, Canadian Hospitality, loaded with humanity and not an ounce of racism. That's the Canada I grew up in! Canada before the word racism! Canada that accepts the world and offers unconditional love and help to all...! I fear politics and the word racism - together - are taking away what built this country!
Love the sound of bagpipes especially with the right music - I love Amazing Grace with the bagpipes.
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When I do get to Scotland I'm going to attend one of these at the castle
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There is a band in Ontario that's plays Rock music with Bag Pipes - two brothers - the name slips my mind but I seen in Shelburne and it was really good...