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| Photos by Suzanne Currie |
Preamble to Today’s Post.
I REALLY DID ENJOY GROWING UP IN A SMALL TOWN IN RURAL ONTARIO -ENJOYING WHAT THE SIXTIES AND EARLY SEVENTIES HAD, BUT THE TOWN DID NOT
By Ted Currie
I can remember the view from the backyard of the Henry home up on Liddard Street, in Bracebridge, where I happily hung out during my elder teenage years, as guests of Frank and Ivey Henry, and their kids, Linda, Susan and Steven, who was my road-hockey, side yard baseball, for a lot of swell years, in what was our own version, Muskoka style, of the recent “70’s Show,” being one of the safest places for teenagers to have their respite. We’d sit in the backyard “shooting the breeze,” about our most recent girlfriends, and watch as the bulldozers shaped the pastures of old Lance Hardy’s farm in preparation for the first nine holes of the newly proposed South Muskoka Golf and Curling Club. It was the beginning, in my opinion as a town historian, and the chap who wrote the golf club’s history a few years back, that the expansion of the urban services area beyond what it had been, to facilitate new development knocking at the proverbial door, the small town that I grew up in, would never be the same. The early seventies saw many urbanizing trends and a great new wave of investment, from commercial, industrial to residential, and it was obvious the characteristics of the old town I rather liked, was going to be altered in any number of ways. Some we liked as teenagers wondering if this might be a place to stay and invest ourselves, or whether it would mark a revolution of values, and bring the city to the rural clime to our general social disadvantage. The potential however, that development would increase job opportunities and infuse needed momentum to the economy in general, was the greater consideration. I still didn’t buy into the idea of creating something that would compromise what I believed was in essence, a fine small town that may have needed refinement and improvement in many sectors, but not the negatives of an urban sprawl that inevitably comes with new and progressive investors, from Southern Ontario, immersing the population into the reality of having a two horse town instead of one; and having many more traffic lights than the first one at the Manitoba and Thomas Street intersection.
I will confess this not-so-well-hidden truth. The urbanizing trends and sprawl over places like Ball’s Flats where we used to delight on nights like this, playing pond hockey over acres of frozen creeks and puddles, made me wonder about how our young lads would cope with more urbanizing dilemmas as they passed through their school years. I didn’t want them to lose the small town way of life, and it inspired Suzanne and I in the late 1980’s, to consider relocating to Gravenhurst, ten miles south; and still at that time, a genuinely small but vibrant community with its rural values pretty much intact, while other similar towns and villages were being hit by expansionist forces in all types of packaging and with many promises of corresponding prosperity. It worked pretty well for us at least as far as the lads are concerned, because they had the pleasure of growing up in, yes, a quieter town, where there was less emphasis on accepting growth for growth’s sake; and more concern about protecting the quality of life the town had enjoyed since homesteading days, where Gravenhurst was truly the gateway to Muskoka.
Today, well, development investment is pouring into Gravenhurst, and its character is being changed dramatically, and the long time residents are befuddled to put it mildly, about what it will all represent over the next decade. Especially considering that it is almost impossible for our young citizens to purchase a property let alone a house, without forking over a king’s ransom for the privilege. It is even a major issue to rent an apartment for a reasonable monthly amount, and there are more folks than ever either couch surfing with friends and family, or living in undeclared rooming houses, which is a throw-back in time. Town councillors know this transformation is happening, but they’re not willing to offer much sympathy or compassion for those who are now finding that the urbanizing trend is seriously compromising their right to a good and secure life in the place where their grand parents, and parents, had made their family homes, and enjoyed prosperous living despite what would be perceived today, as disadvantages and shortfalls in what magic beans can offer those of vast imaginative capacity.
I grew up with so many advantages afforded by a small community, one horse, one traffic light or not. I had lived the first eleven years of my life in the city, and I played my hockey games at between two and five in the morning, because of a shortage of ice time and huge demand. When we moved to Bracebridge, my games and practices were in prime time nightly, and on Saturday mornings for the Town League players. My dad was relieved, as he had been forced to wake up in the middle of the night, just to take his kid to the arena for some needed recreation. Then he’d drive me home, and take off for Hamilton where he worked at a lumber company. In Bracebridge, we could all sleep in, and that was just one of the perks of living in a wonderful small town in amazing South Muskoka. Here are a few recollections of what it meant to be a small town kid; disadvantaged? I never once felt that way.
DOWNTOWN BUSINESSES IN BRACEBRIDGE ACCOMMODATED OUR LIMITED BUDGETS AT CHRISTMAS TIME
When I lived in Burlington, Ontario, which was a heck of a nice place for a wanderlust kid like me to live, back in the late 1950's and early 60's, my mother didn't like the idea of me wandering Brant Street, which of course, was the main business corridor back then. I wasn't allowed near the shore of Lake Ontario either but I found my way there anyway, just as I was able to make it to the main street by accidentally (intentionally) taking a wrong turn coming home from school. There was a neat variety store known as Walmsleys, where I could get a big bag of candy for a quarter. Of course it was a constant temptation, as corner stores have always been for me, and my big sweet tooth.
When we moved to Bracebridge in the late winter of 1966, I had to pass through the downtown core, which was serviced by the main artery known as Manitoba Street, just to get to Bracebridge Public School. And to get there, I had to cross the width of the North Branch of the Muskoka River, as cold with sweeping wind, as Winnipeg's intersection of Portage and Main. There were far more distractions and dangers going downtown in Bracebridge, than I had to concern myself in Burlington. Ramble Creek was just a trickle of water, to cross over, and it was bridged such that I could never get a soaker. Unless I deviated from the route and went down to the shore to play around. The Muskoka River had deadly potential because of its depth, water volume and undertow which worsened after storms and in the spring of course.
Let's be clear. My mother worried more about my travels to and from the main street, in both communities, moreso than any danger I might have met-up-with shopping there for cent candy and comics. We worried about our sons the same way, so it's one of those parent things we have to grow out of, eventually. Right? Thus moving to Bracebridge, introduced me to dangerous walks, and downtown strolls, to and from BPS; even at lunch hour, because I used to run home to our Alice Street apartment for a little respite from the bullies who ruled the playground.
From this point, I developed a strong and passionate relationship for the Manitoba retail community, both below the Queen's Hill, and to the north, above the incline named after the former Queen's Hotel, on the corner opposite the clock tower of the retired federal building. I loved my Friday nights shopping (mostly browsing) there, throughout the four seasons, and Saturdays were golden for us Hunts Hill lads, who quested for Dinky Toys, cent candy, comics, hockey cards, and at this time of year, gifts for our parents. On a snowy Saturday afternoon, it was magical to a wide-eyed kid like me, and it had that snow globe appearance when you stood at one end of the street looking either north or south.
I have been writing in retrospect, about these glorious, and happy times, these haunting memories of youth, spent roaming in the old downtown, for the past four decades because I don't want these times lost in the fog of history. I moved to Bracebridge only a few years from its period of urban expansion, that began to unfold in earnest, by the mid 1970's, to the boom years of the 1980's and 90's. It was a special small town atmosphere that lingered in 1966 when we arrived as urban refugees. I wish all my readers could have experienced this time in Muskoka history, in actuality, but possibly I can take you on a trip back via some of my archived stories written many years back. I hope you enjoy these Christmas season tall tales that were very special to us rapscallions of the 1960's.
I PROUDLY DID MY CHRISTMAS SHOPPING AT BAMFORD'S STORE ON TORONTO STREET
FRED AND MARY RAN THE CRAZIEST CORNER STORE ANYWHERE ON EARTH
NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY, I CAN NOT ACCURATELY DESCRIBE THE INTERIOR MAGIC OF BAMFORD'S CORNER STORE, THAT WAS SITUATED UP ON BRACEBRIDGE'S TORONTO STREET....ONE BLOCK EAST OF BLACK'S VARIETY STORE, WHICH LATER BECAME "LIL & CEC'S," AND THEN "FRASERS." IT IS STILL OPERATING TO THIS DAY, AND I THINK IT'S CALLED THE KWIKI MART. I OFFER AN APOLOGY IN ADVANCE, IF I GOT THIS WRONG.
I'VE WRITTEN REIMS OF EDITORIAL COPY ABOUT THOSE WONDERFUL CORNER STORES OF MY YOUTH, DATING BACK TO THE YEAR 1966, WHEN WE ARRIVED IN THIS SNOWY BURG FROM THE LIGHTLY WINTERED CITY OF BURLINGTON. THOSE TWO CORNER STORES MADE UP A GOODLY MAJORITY OF MY RECREATIONAL, SOCIAL / CULTURAL ACTIVITIES BACK THEN, AT LEAST IN THE DAYS BEFORE I FOUND A GIRL THAT WOULD HAVE A GUY LIKE ME FOR A PARTNER. GOD BLESS THEM FOR TRYING TO FIND THE GOODNESS IN ME. I LIKE TO THINK I'M A KINDER ADULT THAN I WAS AS A CHILD....WHO DID ENCOURAGE HIS CONTEMPORARIES, WHEN CIRCUMSTANCE PREVAILED, TO PLACE THEIR MOIST TONGUES ON THE METAL RAILING OF THE HUNT'S HILL BRIDGE, AT THIRTY BELOW.....WHILE WORKING WITH OTHER TOADIES, IN OUR PARTY OF HOOLIGANS, TO DROP THE VICTIM'S TROUSERS. NOTHING SAYS PRANK LIKE A YOUNG SHIVERING LAD WITH PANTS AROUND THE ANKLES.....TONGUE EXTENDED, CRYING MUFFLED BY THE SCARF RE-ATTACHED AROUND THEIR UPPER LIP. DON'T WORRY FOLKS, I GOT REPAID MANY, MANY TIMES.
I LOVED BOTH CORNERS STORES, AND SEEING AS WE LIVED ON ALICE STREET, ONE BLOCK REMOVED, THE PROPRIETORS OF EACH, KIND OF ADOPTED ME LIKE A STORE CAT. I LIKED TO BROWSE, AND OCCASIONALLY GET MY HAND STUCK IN THE COKE COOLER, TRYING TO NAVIGATE THE METAL TRACK THROUGH THE COLD WATER. I COULD BREAK ANYTHING DEEMED UNBREAKABLE. IN THIS MATTER, OF MOSTLY CONSEQUENCES, MY MOTHER FOUND OUT EARLY IN OUR RELATIONSHIP, THAT IF IT HAD A KNOB, FINIAL OR DIAL, I COULD SNAP IT OFF CLEANLY, IF GIVEN A COUPLE OF MINUTES UNATTENDED. I HAVE A CAT NOW, NAMED CHUTNEY, THAT REMINDS ME OF HOW BAD I WAS AS A KID, FOR BREAKING STUFF. CHUTNEY DOES WHAT SHE WANTS TO DO, CONSEQUENCES BE DAMNED. SHE HAS BORROWED A CHAPTER OUT OF MY BIOGRAPHY, AND I KIND OF THINK MY MOTHER HAD SOMETHING TO DO WITH THIS CAT'S ARRIVAL ON OUR DOORSTEP....AS A SORT OF HEAVEN-SENT REMINDER OF WHAT I WAS LIKE AS A NEVER-LISTEN KID. SO IN THE SHOPS, I DID PRETTY MUCH THE SAME THINGS, AND THE OWNERS PRACTICED PREVENTATIVE MAINTENANCE, BY STANDING OVER-TOP, JUST TO PROTECT THEIR GOODS. IF THEY DIDN'T, I'D HAVE TO HAND THEM THE THINGS I BROKE, FROM OFF THE FLOOR. THEY WERE FORGIVING FOLKS, SO AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED, THEY EARNED MY ALLOWANCE MONEY FAIR AND SQUARE, THROUGH THIS ONGOING KINDNESS, WHICH LASTED UNTIL MY LATE TEENS. I WAS STILL BUYING PAPER BAGS OF BLACK BALLS WHEN I WAS EIGHTEEN. UNTIL MY GIRLFRIEND REMINDED ME HOW CHILDISH IT WAS TO HAVE BLACK TEETH AND EXPECT TO SMOOCH. I THOUGHT IT WAS ENDEARING. IT WAS THE BEGINNING OF MY REFORMATION. SO THEN I STARTED CHEWING A GUM, I THINK WAS CALLED "THRILLS" AND IT WAS LIKE EATING A HANDFUL OF LILACS. MY GAL PALS SEEMED TO LIKE THE AROMA. I HATED IT. IT WAS THE BEGINNING OF MY INDENTURED EXISTENCE. PLEASE OTHERS FIRST.
AS A KID, I HAD A VERY MODEST CHRISTMAS BUDGET; BUT THEN I WAS AN ONLY CHILD, AND JUST HAD TWO PARENTS TO BUY GIFTS FOR ANYWAY. WHEN I WAS REALLY UNDER THE FINANCIAL GUN, I SHOPPED WITH FRED AND MARY BAMFORD, AND THEIR LOYAL CLERK, CORA WHITE. THE TINY SHOP, PART OF THE WOODLEY PARK MOTOR COURT, WITH ITS EIGHT OR NINE SMALL TOURIST CABINS, WAS AN INCREDIBLE EXPERIENCE FOR THE FIRST TIME VISITOR, AND ALWAYS A MARVEL FOR THOSE OF US WHO ATTENDED THE SHOP TWO OR THREE TIMES EACH DAY. MY MOTHER AND FATHER BOTH SMOKED LIKE CHIMNEYS, AND I WAS THE CORNER STORE "RUNNER." I GOT TO KEEP THE CHANGE, AND I WOULD SAVE IT UP FOR THE CHRISTMAS SEASON PURCHASES. THE STORE WAS SO FULL, IT WAS OVERFLOWING. THE CLERK SAT IN A LITTLE CUBBY HOLE, AND ALL COMMERCE WAS DONE THROUGH A SERIOUSLY COMPROMISED WINDOW. ALL THE CIGARETTE STOCK WAS BEHIND THE CLERK, SO THAT OUR NIMBLE LITTLE FINGERS COULDN'T POACH ANY OF THE PACKAGES....WHICH WE WOULD HAVE BY THE WAY.....EVEN THOUGH WE ALL LIKED FRED AND MARY BAMFORD FOR THEIR MANY KINDNESSES BESTOWED OUR FAMILIES. ESPECIALLY PUTTING US ON "TABS" IN BETWEEN PAY DAYS. IT WAS A THICK BOOK LET ME TELL YOU. IT WAS A BLUE COLLAR NEIGHBORHOOD AND MOST FAMILIES EXPERIENCED THE SAME FINANCIAL SHORTFALLS EVERY MONTH OF THE YEAR.
THE BAMFORDS UTILIZED EVERY INCH OF STORE SPACE TO THEIR ADVANTAGE, AND I WISH I HAD TAKEN A PICTURE OF AT LEAST PART OF THE INTERIOR. THE WHOLE STORE WAS ONLY ABOUT SEVEN HUNDRED SQUARE FEET, IF THAT, AND MERCHANDISE WAS HANGING FROM THE CEILING, AND EVERY WALL WAS SERIOUSLY COMPROMISED WITH STOCK; A LOT OF SOUVENIRS, BECAUSE IT WAS A TOURIST-THEMED OPERATION AFTER-ALL. BUT IT HAD A GOOD LOCAL CLIENTELE YEAR ROUND. THERE WAS A MAGAZINE RACK JUST INSIDE THE DOOR, TO THE LEFT, AND THEN THERE WERE TWO COOLERS IN AN "L" SHAPE, IN THE FIRST SECTION OF THE THREE PART SHOP. IT WAS LIKE A LARGER GROCERY STORE, PURPOSELY JAMMED INTO THESE TINY SECTIONS, AND BY SOME GRACE OF RETAIL MAGIC, IT MADE COMMERCIAL SENSE. THE LITTLE SHOP, WITH A STRONG COMPETITOR ON THE OTHER END OF THE BLOCK, MADE A LOT OF MONEY OVER ITS TENURE ON THAT NICELY TREED LOT.....WHICH THE HUNT'S HILL GANG CALLED "BAMFORD'S WOODS." IT'S WHERE WE HUNG OUT A LOT OF THE TIME. IT WAS OUR SAFE HAVEN. WHERE WE TALKED ABOUT OUR CONQUESTS YET TO COME. OUR BAND OF MERRY LADS, DID MOST OF OUR JUNK FOOD SHOPPING AT EITHER BAMFORD'S OR BLACKS. I'M STILL ALIVE, SO MY MOTHER WAS WRONG ABOUT JUNK FOOD KILLING ME AT A YOUNG AGE. "IT'S GOING TO KILL YOU TEDDY....YOU JUST WATCH AND SEE....AND ALL YOUR TEETH WILL FALL OUT, AND NO GIRL WILL WANT YOU," SHE'D SCOLD ME, WALKING FROM ROOM TO ROOM, DUSTING EVERYTHING IN THE HOUSE, WITH RANDOM STROKES OF A TORN RAG THAT DID NEXT TO NOTHING IN THE BATTLE FOR CLEANLINESS. IT ACTUALLY SPREAD THE DUST AROUND INSTEAD. SO MUCH SO THAT I COULD TASTE IT.
WITH VERY FEW COINS IN MY POCKETS, I ALWAYS KNEW THAT FRED AND MARY WOULD HAVE SOME ITEMS IN STOCK, THAT WOULD BE PERFECT FOR MY MOTHER AND FATHER. I REMEMBER TAKING ADVANTAGE OF A SPECIAL CHRISTMAS SEASON CLEAR-OUT SALE (AND I KNOW WHY) ONE YEAR, OF SMALL, NICELY PACKAGED PERFUME SETS. SO I FOUND THE BIGGEST OF THE LITTLE SETS I COULD, AND I FELT SO GOOD ABOUT IT AS A QUICK RESOLUTION TO A PROBLEM OF GIFTING A FUSSY MOTHER, THAT IT NEVER CROSSED MY MIND THAT IT WOULD SMELL SO BAD, MERLE WOULDN'T EVEN OPEN THE BOTTLE, AFTER THAT FIRST NAUSEATING SAMPLE ON HER WRIST. INSTEAD OF A SMILE, SHE GOT A LOOK OF SHOCK ON HER FACE. "WHAT THE HECK IS THIS ANYWAY?" SHE SAID IT BEHIND MY BACK BUT I WAS STILL LISTENING.
WE USED TO KID ABOUT IT IN LATER YEARS, BECAUSE SHE KEPT IT AS AN ORNAMENT ON HER DRESSER, NEVER EXPENDING EVEN A SINGLE DROP ON HER SKIN, FOR FEAR IT WOULD BURN. IT WAS BEAUTIFULLY SCRIPTED ON THE LABEL, AS "CREPE SATIN," BUT WE JOKED ABOUT IT BEING MORE LIKE "CREEP SATIN," OR BETTER STATED, "THE SATIN CREEPS WOULD WEAR." I USED TO BUY MY DAD ICE SCRAPERS FOR THE CAR, FAKE LEATHER GLOVES, NOVELTY ASH TRAYS, MAGAZINES, (NOT THE ADULT ONES), AND OF COURSE, CREPE SATIN FOR MEN. THEY DIDN'T ALWAYS SELL NAME BRANDS, SO I BOUGHT WHATEVER LOOKED CLOSEST TO AQUA VELVA OR OLD SPICE, WITH A NICE ARRAY OF PACKING MATERIALS MAKING IT LOOK NAUTICAL OR TROPICAL. BUT NOT QUITE. THESE LIQUIDS SMELLED BAD AND I WAS SAVAGELY ALLURED BY PACKAGING ONLY.....AND I'M STILL THAT WAY TODAY. ED WAS A TOUGH GUY SO HE WOULD NEVER LET ON, THE COLOGNE I BOUGHT HIM AT BAMFORDS, BURNED HIS FACE....UNLESS THE BLISTERS BEGAN TO SHOW. MERLE AND ED GOT EVEN WITH ME, SORT OF, BY BUYING MY PRESENTS THERE AS WELL. MOST OF THE MERCHANDISE WAS OLD STOCK FROM THE NINETEEN FIFTIES, SO IT WAS PERFECT FOR ANY ONE WHO HAD A GENUINE INTEREST IN PRISTINE NOSTALGIA. I COUNTED MYSELF AMONGST THIS NUMBER. YOU WERE ALWAYS DELVING INTO THE PAST WHEN YOU WENT INTO THAT STRANGE BUT WONDERFUL SHOP, CLUTTERED, CROWDED, BUT ALWAYS OCCUPIED BY KINDLY FOLK, BEHIND THE COUNTER, OR THE VISITORS SHOOTING THE BREEZE. IT WAS A STRANGE BUT ACCOMMODATING MEETING PLACE, IN A QUICKLY CHANGING TOWNSCAPE. IT WAS HOLDING ON TO A CORNER OF HISTORY, AND REFUSING TO LET GO. I LOVED THAT ABOUT THE BAMFORDS. AND GOING IN THERE, AT AROUND CHRISTMAS, WAS A CHARMING RESPITE FROM ALL THE OTHER TYPICALLY APPOINTED RETAIL VENUES THAT USED TO PERPLEX ME WITH TOO MANY OPTIONS. MY FAVORITE ALL TIME BASEBALL GLOVE, I USED FOR MOST OF MY MINOR YEARS, CAME FROM BAMFORDS....AND IT WAS PAPER THIN, BUT BY GOLLY, I MADE SOME AMAZING CATCHES IN THE OUTFIELD WITH IT HANGING LIGHTLY OFF MY HAND.
I WAS HELD SPELLBOUND BY THE ARRAY OF CANDY TREATS THE BAMFORDS SET OUT FOR THE CHRISTMAS SEASON, AND IT WAS AMAZING HOW THEY COULD TRANSFORM THE SHOP INVENTORY, AND ENHANCE IT ALL, SO MUCH, WITH LARGE CANDY CANES AND TACKY PLASTIC DECORATIONS.....NOT TO MENTIONS THOSE WONDERFUL, SEASONALLY APPOINTED COKE CUT-OUTS, AMONGST OTHER PRODUCT ADVERTISING, THE BAMFORDS WOULD SPLICE INTO THE JAMMED-UP STORE. I'LL TELL YOU, IT PULLED AT THE PURSE STRINGS. THEY WERE WISE ABOUT MERCHANDISING, EVEN THOUGH IT SEEMED TO DEFY, EVEN THEN, ALL THE RULES OF RETAIL MARKETING. I WOULD LOVE TO KNOW WHAT THEIR REVENUES WERE, AT THAT TINY, CORNER STORE, IN A NEIGHBORHOOD OF MODEST INCOMES.
I BOUGHT MY CHOCOLATE SANTAS AT BAMFORDS, AS WELL AS THE BAGS OF ASSORTED CANDY THAT WERE ALWAYS STALE...AND WE LIKE THEM THAT WAY. WHEN YOUR NEXT TO BROKE, AS A GENERAL RULE, GETTING YOUR TREATS CHEAPLY IS ALL THAT MATTERS. I LIKED THE HOCKEY STICKS THEY SOLD AT BAMFORDS, AND THE ROAD HOCKEY PUCKS AND TENNIS BALLS, THAT WE WENT THROUGH BY THE DOZEN, FIRING THEM OFF INTO ALL THE SNOWBANKS AROUND OUR ALICE STREET APARTMENT. WE'D GET THEM ALL BACK IN THE SPRING. THERE WAS AN AMBIENCE IN THAT SHOP THAT I'VE NEVER FOUND SINCE, AND THAT I STILL FEEL IS IMPOSSIBLE TO EXPLAIN....EVEN THE CONFLUENCE OF AROMAS. IMAGINE THE SMELL OF NEWSPRINT, FROM THE DAILY PAPERS, MIXING WITH COFFEE, PIPE TOBACCO, BAKED GOODS, CHEAP PERFUME, SOAPS FOR THE HANDS AND FOR CLOTHES, ALL IN SEVEN HUNDRED SQUARE FEET OF RETAIL BLISS. HAVE YOU EVER SMELLED A FRESH, OUT OF PLASTIC, ROLL OF FRICTION TAPE, THE KIND WE USED TO WRAP ON THE BLADE AND END OF OUR HOCKEY STICKS. WELL, IT'S STRONG, AND THEY SOLD IT AS WELL. IT WAS A SENSORY BOMBARDMENT BEING IN THAT SHOP, BUT IT'S EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED AT THAT YOUNG AGE.....SOMETHING OF WONDERMENT CLOSE TO HOME, WHERE MY MOTHER DIDN'T FEAR FOR MY LIFE. SHE ALSO WORKED AS A CLERK FOR MARY AND FRED FOR A COUPLE OF YEARS. THE BAMFORDS LIVED IN THE BACK OF THE BUILDING, WHERE THERE WAS ALSO A STORAGE ROOM FOR SURPLUS INVENTORY, ESPECIALLY STATIONARY. I WAS A STATIONARY ADDICT IN MY YOUTH, AS I WAS ALWAYS WRITING BOOKS AND NEEDING MORE LOOSE LEAF REFILLS. I LOVED RUBBER STAMPS AS WELL. SO GETTING LOOSE IN THERE WAS PRETTY EXCITING. I COULD CHEW UP QUITE A BIT OF MERLE'S PAY, BUYING NEAT STUFF TO KEEP HER SON HAPPY. AND SHE DID. I'M GRATEFUL, LET ME TELL YOU. I STILL GET TURNED ON BY STATIONARY.
THE BAMFORDS DIED MANY YEARS AGO, AND ARE BURIED IN THE PICTURESQUE ANGLICAN CEMETERY, ON UPPER MANITOBA STREET. THEIR HEARTS WERE GOLDEN, THOSE TWO, AND THEY PUT UP WITH ME FOR QUITE A FEW YEARS......UNTIL MY GIRLFRIENDS TOLD ME HOW UNCOOL IT WAS TO LINGER IN SOCIAL CIRCUMSTANCE, IN MOM AND POP CORNER STORES. IT'S AT CHRISTMAS TIME, THAT I MISS THESE CORNER STORES THE MOST. I'LL NEVER FORGET THEM, OR THE DECENT NEIGHBORS WHO RAN THEM....SOMETIMES AS CHARITIES, FOR US OF LESSER INCOMES. MERRY CHRIS TMAS TO THE MEMORIES OF FRED AND MARY BAMFORD, THE BLACKS, LIL AND CEC., AND THE FRASERS, FOR WORKING HARD ON OUR ACCOUNT....FOR BETTER OR WORSE.
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