THE TALE SPINNER
Vol. XVI, No. 34
August 21, 2010
IN THIS ISSUE:Vol. XVI, No. 34
August 21, 2010
Lyle Meeres continues his account of their Baltic tour
Verda Cook writes about a devastating hailstorm in Alberta
Wendy Fisher asks permission to publish some of your stories
Pat Moore describes a unique solution to a rat invasion
Carol Hansen sends a story about an old miner and a gunslinger
Gerrit deLeeuw forwards an example of a slight misunderstanding
The editor's cat has found a new amusement
Sites are suggested by Bruce Galway, Catherine Green, Jay, and Pat Moore
Lyle Meeres continues his description of their
BALTIC CRUISE
At 9:30 on August 24 we gathered for a 9:45 departure into Helsinki. The reviews I had read were not kind to Helsinki, and Gordon Davies later told us that he was unimpressed by a church built into rock, but Temppeliaukio Church (the Rock Church), which was blasted out of granite, did impress us favourably. The ceiling was a massive dome of copper wire that spiralled around the circular roof and contributed to excellent sound. It seems to Pat and me that European churches often have good sound.
After a few minutes there, we went to the Folk Museum, which is a collection of old buildings just outside the city. The gathering of houses, granaries, churches, and barns that began in 1909 became the Seurassari Open-Air Museum. While we were there, we had sunshine, and the fact that other places have similar museums did not detract from the pleasure of walking outdoors. On our walk back, we stopped at a centre where we were served coffee and a Finnish pastry. As the walk finished, the guide remarked that an outdoor park close to the city was very appropriate, since an active population that enjoys the outdoors use it for walking and jogging, as well as a source of historical information.
Finland is 65 per cent forested. She said that if we met Finns, they tended to be quiet and we might have to speak first. She told two stories to illustrate her point. According to the first, two Finnish men went ice fishing. They drilled the holes and sat silently. Nothing happened. After two hours, one Finn said to the other, “Catch anything?” The second man growled, “What, are we here to talk - or to fish?” The second story centered on a Finnish couple. As the day of their 25th anniversary dawned, the woman was filled with anticipation. What special gift would her husband give her? Would the house be filled with flowers? But time passed and nothing happened. Finally, as the day drew to a close, the tearful woman turned to her husband and said, “It’s our twenty-fifth anniversary and you did nothing and said nothing. You didn’t even say ‘I love you.’” Her husband replied, “I told you 25 years ago that I love you. If I change my mind, I will let you know.”
The guide pointed out that this was not yet the land of the midnight sun. That lay further north in Lappland. The reverse of the midnight sun means that Helsinki gets a period of considerable darkness, which Finns try to deal with positively. Days provide only five hours of daylight. “In the summer,” she said, “Finns fish and make love.” She paused. “In the winter, Finns fish less.” Her English wasn’t as good as previous guides, but she was no less enjoyable. Her ability to generalize made her ideas clear and interesting.
The bus let us out at the Senate Square for 10 minutes, and then we drove back to the ship. Once again, lunch was late. The big shrimp we had for dinner were decidedly good, and there was a bonus: Neil had sent two bottles of wine. We had one plus a bottle from Donna’s set.
August 25 was a day we had looked forward to for a long time, and it had an early start: 5:40 a.m. so we could have breakfast at 6:15 and be in the Safari Lounge at 7:15. Our guide to St. Petersburg, Alexander, used receiver sets and earphones, which allowed him to walk and talk, at least until the system broke down in mid-afternoon. We walked in buildings and grounds after we arrived at Pushkin to see Catherine’s Palace (1710) before its normal opening time. The palace looked huge. From the entrance proper, I couldn’t get it all in one picture, even with the wide angle, because it is 980 feet long. It was badly damaged by the departing German army in World War II.
While we were there, the chapel was under scaffolding. One unusual precaution was that visitors put on blue booties over their footwear so they won’t damage the antique parquet flooring. We visited the throne room, some dining rooms, and the restored amber room, which could keep several jewellery stores happily supplied for decades. We walked a chunk of the 1500-acre parks and gardens of “Tsarskoe Selo” (Tsar’s Village), which many Russians prefer to call Pushkin, since that is its post-revolutionary name.
About 11:00 we came back near the Summer Palace for a Russian lunch complete with champagne, vodka in a shot glass, coffee, caviar, salad, potatoes, chicken, and ice cream. A group of about six Russians added to our pleasure by playing music, singing, and dancing.
After lunch we drove back to St. Petersburg, where we saw the Rostral Columns, the Neva River, the exterior of St. Isaac’s Cathedral with its gold dome, and at the Fortress, we went into Peter and Paul Cathedral. Later we stopped at a touristy store where Pat and I bought a blue-and-white plate and a booklet on the Summer Palace.
We made another stop at the Church of Spilled Blood (more properly the Church of the Resurrection of Christ), which gets its nickname because Alexander II was assassinated there by a terrorist’s bomb. The colourful domes were covered in jewellers’ enamel, giving the impression that apprentices of Dali and Gaudi had been turned loose. Unfortunately, we did not see the interior.
We drove along Nevsky Prospekt, the two-and-a-half-mile long road that is the heart of St. Petersburg. Alexander joked that the two most dangerous groups to tourists were pickpockets and police - both after our money. The number-one problem in the country is corruption, but St. Petersburg is a fascinating city nonetheless. We were back at the Jewel of the Seas about nine hours after we started.
I thought many of the Russian people looked very serious, beginning with the staff in passport control, who never spoke to us. I guess with their history, it has been safer not to speak to strangers. At first I thought that clothing suggested a poor economy and probably a reflection of the economic problems, but later I did see people in trendy and expensive clothing. Alexander said that back a while, Russians did not understand when people spoke of traffic jams, but now they do. We certainly saw traffic jams. It would be a horrible experience trying to drive there: if you’re not aggressive, you’d sit at a corner all day.
Some buildings were terribly run down, yet there were many classical and baroque buildings that had been spiffed up. Apparently St. Petersburg has more money coming its way, since Putin is a native of the city. All told, it was a very interesting day.
Due to long excursions, dinner was open, meaning one could dine any time, so we sat with new people: three Brits. The two older ones gave me a feeling of stuffiness, though to be fair, the lady tried to be friendly. They had not been off the ship that day, but they were going for a half day excursion the next day. I could not understand why someone would miss the central feature of the cruise, but maybe I was wrong, and food was central. Someone joked, “Start off with your size six dress, shift to the middle-sized one later, and save your biggest dress with the elastic waist for the final days.” I heard that experienced cruisers go for the time at sea, and who knows, maybe these people had been to St. Petersburg three times before.
To be continued.
Verda Cook writes about the devastating hail storm that struck Alberta this summer:
HAIL AND FAREWELL
On June 3rd, my husband, Stanley, and I embarked on a three-month adventure.
A year ago we had been asked to take a volunteer position in Alberta as host and hostess of a guest house which is owned by a church, but has an arm's-length relationship with Foothills Hospital in Calgary.
The purpose of the guest house is to provide low-cost accommodation for family members from outside Calgary who either are in out-patient treatment at the hospital, or have a family member in hospital. We are to manage this facility to the end of August. As of August 15, we have had "guests" from Quebec, British Columbia, Saskatchewan, and Manitoba, as well as areas well beyond the city of Calgary.
Guests have been dialysis out-patients, children requiring minor surgery at the Children's Hospital, patients in cardiac treatment, and some who are here to support family members in hospital. Some are overnight guests; others are here for a month or more while in treatment. These guests are referred to the house by hospitals not only in Calgary, but from across the country. Some guests are referred by social agencies, physicians, chaplains, and some are referred by the Refugee and Immigration Board.
This facility is busy. When one guest, leaves another arrives. They come by airplane, bus, car, and arrive at any time. We have had guests arrive at the airport around 11:00 p.m., and have also had to be awake at midnight after being alerted by the hospital that a patient is arriving at the hospital by ambulance (air or land), and the family is following. We are connected by phone 24 hours a day; via cell phone when out of the facility. It has been an interesting adventure, but the most dramatic adventure occurred on July 12.
A guest had left the facility and I was cleaning the room in preparation for another guest. As I was about to hang a duvet outside to freshen, I noticed a large dark cloud over the high school across the street. Thinking we were about to have a thunderstorm, I took the duvet back inside. I was barely inside the door when I heard a thumping sound. Stanley was on the second level of the building and I called to him asking what he was doing. Before he could respond, the noise became a roar like a freight train going by.
We stood at the door looking out in fright as we watched a white wall of golf ball-sized hailstones pummel everything in sight. The lawn quickly turned white, like a day in winter. Fifteen minutes later, when the hail and rain stopped, we went outside to survey the damage.
We were shocked when we saw the vinyl siding on the building completely riddled with what looked like bullet holes. The roofing was curled and a good portion of it lay on the ground. The street and sidewalk in front of the building were covered several inches deep by shredded leaves and twigs from the surrounding trees.
When we walked to the back of the house we had another shock when we saw our new car. The windshield was cracked on the passenger side; the rest of the car was almost entirely covered with deep pock marks.
We called our supervisor, who lives and works in another part of the city. He was unaware that a storm had occurred, this storm being so localized.
We contacted our insurance company in Ontario and were relieved to know we were covered for hail damage. The insurance company arranged for a damage assessment by an auto body shop in Calgary that specializes in hail damage. When we took the car to the shop, the adjuster suggested we go inside and have coffee. The insurance company requires him to count the number of pock marks on the car. Very soon he came in and asked us to come out to the car. He told us he had begun to count and had covered only one-quarter of the hood, and already had counted 275 pock marks. He said the hood, the roof, doors, hatch door, and trim, along with the windshield, would need to be replaced, basically rebuilding the car. So he was recommending to the insurance company that the car be replaced.
Some time later the insurance company contacted us to tell us they required a second opinion. The amount of damage to vehicles and property was so extensive the city of Calgary set up a special assessment centre. However, they were so overwhelmed with claims we were told it would be at least three weeks before an adjuster could make an assessment. That would be too late for us, since we are to leave Calgary for Ontario by the end of August. The insurance company deemed the car safe to drive and said we are to contact them when we arrive at our home in Kitchener, Ontario. We will be driving a souvenir across the Prairies to Ontario! Everywhere we go, the car is a spectacle and a conversation object.
This particular area of Calgary was hit hard by the storm. The greenhouses at the University of Calgary, just minutes from the guest house, were completely destroyed. The glass enclosing the air conditioning and heating units on the roof of the high school across the street was totally smashed. All up and down the streets in this neighbourhood is the sound of hammers as roofers re-shingle houses and siding is repaired. Within the next few weeks, contractors are scheduled to move onto this property and begin the work of repairing the damage. We are glad we will not be here to endure the sound of hammers.
This is a summer we will never forget
Wendy Fisher requests permission to
PUBLISH CONTRIBUTORS' STORIES
For many years now, I've read The Tale Spinner and loved the articles. I've travelled the world with quite a few of you (via your stories) and also thoroughly enjoyed the memories. My website is http://www.retirement-online.com and visitors would love your stories.
My mission is to help retirees ... travel stories would help them consider new travel ideas, and memories are just wonderful to share (and also help people who are writing life stories). I've written most of the articles myself. My former occupation was retirement manager, and I retired in April 2010. The site gets 18,000 visitors a month, reading 55,000+ pages. This is my new "job". < grin>
If you are willing to allow me to use your Tale Spinner articles on my site, please visit http://www.retirement-online.com/contact-wendy.html. When I see articles I'd like to use, I'll e-mail you and ask permission. If you agree, I will send a second e-mail with the link to the website so you can review it. If anyone has lots of stories that I might use, I can also do a bio page with your stories listed like this:
http://www.retirement-online.com/retirement-in-arizona.html
Mike has been writing about retired life in Arizona for my site, which gives his blog more visitors.
I'd love to share your stories. Thanks for your consideration.
Pat Moore sends this description of a unique way to catch rats:
THE SILVER FOX AND THE RATS
On a green prairie in west China's Xinjiang, a silver fox launches itself through the air at a rat like a cruise missile, pinning its prey with uncanny accuracy. Local authorities in Xinjiang Uygur Autonomous Region have mobilized an army of specially-bred and trained silver foxes to combat a destructive plague of rats.
This year, about 5.5 million hectares of grasslands, or more than 10 percent of the total coverage in Xinjiang, have been overrun by disease-infested rats. The rats have ravaged the grasslands, eating grass roots and damaging the prairies with underground digging.
Foxes are excellent natural predators of the rodent. One fox can catch about 20 rats per day. The headquarters' fox-training base was set up in 2004, and it has already trained an army of 284 foxes that have been released into the wild.
With dozens of foxes released since 2004, the biological-control-of-rats experiment in Fuhai County, Altai, has reduced the number of rats in the area by 70 percent, and the number of burrows per hectare of land has dropped from 50 to 15.
Silver foxes have been domesticated and raised in Xinjiang for their rich fur used in garments. The fox-breeding and training base was established when the base bought 20 silver foxes from a local fur farm in 2004, after which the breeding program for the rat-killing army started. The silver fox was chosen to be the rat fighter for its distinctive ability to run, hunt, and live under the harsh living conditions on the prairie.
The fox army is not alone in the fight though. It has allies - eagles, birds, chickens, ducks, and wolves - which have also been trained and deployed by the autonomous region's government to keep the rat numbers down.
It is a green way to tackle the rat problem but it is only being tried in a few areas. China relies mainly on poisons to kill rats, and in Inner Mongolian, more than 70,000 workers have sprayed over 670 tons of poison over nine million hectares of grassland, causing future worries about health problems.
Carol Hansen forwards this story:
HAVE YOU EVER DANCED?
An old prospector shuffled into town leading an old tired mule. The old man headed straight for the only saloon to clear his parched throat. He walked up and tied his old mule to the hitch rail. As he stood there, brushing some of the dust from his face and clothes, a young gunslinger stepped out of the saloon with a gun in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other.
The young gunslinger looked at the old man and laughed, saying, "Hey, old man, have you ever danced?"
The old man looked up at the gunslinger and said, "No, I never did dance ... never really wanted to."
A crowd had gathered as the gunslinger grinned and said, "Well, you old fool, you're gonna dance now," and started shooting at the old man's feet. The old prospector - not wanting to get a toe blown off - started hopping around like a flea on a hot skillet. Everybody was laughing fit to be tied.
When his last bullet had been fired, the young gunslinger, still laughing, holstered his gun and turned around to go back into the saloon. The old man turned to his pack mule, pulled out a double-barreled shotgun, and cocked both hammers. The loud clicks carried clearly through the desert air.
The crowd stopped laughing immediately. The young gunslinger heard the sounds too, and he turned around very slowly. The silence was almost deafening. The crowd watched as the young gunman stared at the old timer and the large gaping holes of those twin barrels.
The barrels of the shotgun never wavered in the old man's hands as he quietly said, "Son, have you ever licked a mule's butt?"
The gunslinger swallowed hard and said, "No sir ... but I've always wanted to."
There are a few lessons for us all here:
Never be arrogant.
Don't waste ammunition.
Whiskey makes you think you're smarter than you are.
Always, always make sure you know who has the power.
Don't mess with old men; they didn't get old by being stupid.
Gerrit deLeeuw sends this example of
A SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING
The Pope came to Glasgow and asked that anyone with "special needs" who wanted to be prayed over come forward to the altar.
With that, wee Jimmy got in line, and when it was his turn, the Pope asked, "My son, what do you want me to pray about for you?"
Wee Jimmy replied, "Your Holiness, I need you to pray for help with my hearing."
The Pope put one finger of one hand in Jimmy's ear, placed his other hand on top of his head, and then prayed and prayed and prayed. He prayed a great prayer for Jimmy, and the whole congregation joined in with great enthusiasm.
After a few minutes, the Pope removed his hands, stood back and asked, "James, how is your hearing now?"
Wee Jimmy answered, "Ah don't know. It's no' 'til next week...."
FROM THE EDITOR'S DESKTOP
The owners of the apartment building in which I live have recently been upgrading, and among those improvements have been new double-glazed windows for all suites.
These windows are of a design I have never seen before. The wide expanse of glass across the whole front of my suite is broken only by two small windows that open. The one near the corner of the building swings outward; the one on the right-hand side of the windows pivots in the middle.
They are so small that I had both wide open to get whatever fresh air would blow through them in the evening.
At 11:00 o'clock my phone rang. It was my next-door neighbour, who asked if I knew that my cat was looking in her window. Of course I did not know, and went rushing in to see what was happening.
Hairy was lying innocently on the rug, looking at me as if wondering why I was moving so unusually fast.
I realized he had climbed out the pivoting window onto the four-inch ledge and walked along it to a similar window in the next suite, which fortunately was open. I looked at it in horror, wondering what would have happened if he had walked along and found the windows closed. I couldn't imagine him turning around on that ledge.
It was a hot night, but I opened those windows only wide enough to admit some fresh air but not wide enough to allow his increasing bulk to squeeze out.
My neighbour subsequently moved to another apartment on another floor, and she later told me that one night she found another cat looking in her window, so obviously those ledges are going to be attractive to all the cats in the building.
Since then I have settled for opening the corner window wide, and opening the pivoting window only wide enough to allow Hairy to squeeze through, but stopping him from going any further. I figure that if he wants to walk on ledges, he can walk between the two, but can go no further. At least he won't have to turn around.
Never a dull moment when you have a cat.
SUGGESTED WEBSITES
Bruce Galway suggests this link to the best card trick ever:
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http://biggeekdaddy.com/humorpages/Humor/timconway.html
You may also read this newsletter online at:
http://nw-seniors.org/stories.html
"If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague." - Jerry Seinfeld
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