Good Morning Folks! You know, if there is one thing I have learned over the years it’s that; “Living on a farm or in the country, teaches you to appreciate the small things—a warm breeze, a good meal, and a quiet morning.”
It’s a damp, overcast morning here in Northern Ontario. The rain came down off and on through the night, and by the looks of the sky, it seems determined to stick around for most of the day. The air has a crispness to it this morning, a gentle reminder that the season is beginning to shift. Tomorrow, though, the skies will start to clear, and we’ll get a break from the gloom. But don’t put away the short sleeves just yet, as by Monday, we’ll be back to some fine, warm weather, and next week’s looking to be downright nice.
Highway 522 was slow yesterday, not much traffic rolling through, but you wouldn’t know it from the number of folks stopping by our gift shop. We had a good handful of new faces, all eager to see what we’ve been working on. Honestly, I’ve been surprised by how many people have been dropping by—especially on Sunday and Monday. It’s heartening to see so many taking an interest in our handcrafted items, each one made right here on our property. There’s something rewarding about knowing folks appreciate the time and care that goes into creating something unique, something you can’t just find anywhere else.
On another note, my lovely wife and I finally got our kitchen all spruced up, along with a fresh coat of paint that really brightens the place. I have to say, it’s looking better than ever. You know, all my life, even growing up on the farm, the kitchen always felt like the heart of the home. It was where life seemed to slow down just enough to be appreciated. The smells drifting from the old wood cook stove, the warmth of a meal in the making—it drew everyone in. And if someone had a problem, well—the kitchen table was where we sat down to hash it out. And no matter how cold I was, I could always count on the wood-box by the stove to warm me up. There wasn’t a cozier spot in the house.
Even now, the kitchen is still one of my favorite places, especially when you’ve got a good cook like my little woman. She’s got this knack for turning the simplest ingredients into something that’d rival any fancy restaurant. Gourmet cooking, they call it—but to me, her meals are better because they’re made from the heart. And you know, it doesn’t matter if it’s a humble stew, or a plate of biscuits, she always manages to make it something special, with flavor you won’t find anywhere else.
Today, with it being so wet outside and our firewood all put in for winter, I think I’ll take the day off and relax a bit. Maybe I’ll even sit down and write another story for the newspaper columns I do. I write 52 columns a year for Post Media, which now covers most of Canada. Not too shabby for an old fella like me, wouldn’t you say? I have to admit, I get a kick out of it— and you know, writing has become as natural to me as telling stories around the kitchen table.
Truth be told, it’s my way of sharing what I’ve learned over the years. The lessons, the adventures, and the little moments that shaped me. Writing gives me a chance to pass those on to others, maybe even spark a bit of reflection or a smile. It’s funny how putting words on paper connects me to folks I’ve never met, but somehow, we all end up sharing a piece of the journey together, as it should be.
With that, I’m off to enjoy the breakfast my little woman has made for me—best to get to it while it’s still hot. After that, well, we’ll see what the day has in store. Life’s full of twists and turns, and you never quite know what’s coming next. But that’s part of the fun, isn’t it?
You all have a great day. I plan to step outside before my breakfast to enjoy a breath or two of that fresh northern air, even if it’s a bit damp this morning.
You know, city folks might have their bright lights, but nothing compares to the peace of a quiet country morning. GW