Daytripping Fall 2023

Lake Huron
MI
ONTARIO
NY
You can start wherever you like of course, and make your own trip!
Art Classes & Workshops - Private Bookings Available - See Website For Details
Christmas
Open House
November
17 & 18
4207 Petrolia Line, Petrolia • 226-738-0911 www.artzden.ca
The Bob-Sled Run
by Marie Mitchell, London - From Daytripping November-December 2005
As I shopped for Christmas yet another
year, I passed by children's shiny new sleds
in a department store. It brought back a
vivid memory of 43 years ago.
Our first winter in a newly built subdivision
provided very little in the way of a view of
nature from our windows as there was
not a tree or bush in sight. The
backyards were devoid of
fences or hedges of any
kind and since we lived on
the pinnacle of what was
called O'Connor Hills,
we had a pretty good
view of the city at night
and of many back yards,
one terracing into another.
Each yard dropped about three feet
or more into the next, for as far as the eye
could see.
On a bright sunny morning, after
Christmas, I thought it an ideal day to let
the children try out their new sled from
Santa. With the light snowfall over a good
ice base, the children would have little
trouble coasting from our yard down into
the next. My plan was to get the two oldest
dressed early and out to play then bathe
and feed the baby. I bundled up the two in
their snow suits, hats and hoods, mittens
and scarves and went out back in my light
night gown and housecoat with slip-on
mules to get them started coasting. I had
planned the outing to be at least a half-hour
entertainment, by themselves.
I put the three year old on front, five year
old on behind, tucking in their feet and gave
them ever so little a start, planning that
they would go down over the first terrace
and stop in the yard behind and return
to our yard and repeat ad infinitum for
whatever period of time. What happened, I
recall so vividly, I am tempted to suggest to
the Olympic Committee that they use this
particular layout for the bobsled runs. The
sled and kids went down the first terrace
and with the speed of light passed the first
yard where I expected their journey to end,
then they hit the next hill, even deeper with
less of a terraced nature.
I stood watching completely numb from
fear and cold. They disappeared from
my sight as they hit the fourth terrace,
and I set out after them - the flying nun
personified - my housecoat billowing and
my feet barely touching old terra firma.
I took each hill at full speed never losing
balance once and arrived in the fourth
yard just in time to see the children and
sled smash into a basement of a house
barely missing the basement window. The
lady of the house came running out to
see what had jarred the whole foundation
and by the time I got to screaming kids
and screaming housewife, I had a searing
pain in my chest brought on by gulping
freezing air and panic. My youngest had
his head hit the stone basement wall but
thanks to the scarf wrapped around his
head, he just developed a large egg. My
older daughter had tried to slow the sled
down, and succeeded only in getting her
hands under the runners, but neither was
seriously hurt. The owner of the house gave
me a blast for being so stupid because I
could have broken her basement window
on a bitterly cold day.
Now the test of intestinal fortitude began.
Children dressed in nylon suits and vinyl
boots on ice covered with light snow can be
treacherous at best, but trying to crawl up
hills, pull a sled and a child by each hand,
would make a mountain climber curse
in despair. At the first hill I devised
my system - tie the sled around
my right ankle, put kids on their
stomachs, push one then the
other up ahead of me as far as
possible and down on all fours
myself, try to scale the hills. I
quickly discovered I was simply
crawling up the inside of my housecoat,
choking myself, so a new motion came to
mind. First push boy, then girl, then hike up
nightgown and smash bare knees into ice
to get a grip, then pull right leg tied to sled.
We made the first terrace and walked to
a second and steeper challenge. I tried my
previous routine but after an interminable
time, and almost making it, only to have
one kid or the other, slip back out of reach,
I gave up. The stinging cold numbed me
still despair turned into hope as I devised
another option. We all sat on our butts and
with a little nudging, the three of us slid
back down into the original yard, as I had
decided to hike home via the road.
Putting the kids on the sled, I walked
through the yard out to the road at front,
and started the long trek home. Since there
were no sidewalks, we walked on the road
but our efficient city fathers had sent our
salt trucks bright and early and our hilly
subdivision got their immediate attention,
so the roads were not ice, but wet slush.
My mules became heavy with water and
wouldn't stay on my feet so I kicked them
off and walked home barefoot.
My feet felt like stumps and the two
sets of cement stairs of our home were
mounted with a strange sensation of
unreality. I could hear the baby crying
inside and with great urgency tried to open
the door, which was locked of course, so
our journey continued through the brittle
snow and up another set of stairs at the
back, where we finally gained entry.
The baby had obviously been crying a
long time. She was red and blue at the
same time about the colour of my feet and
knees. That was my first experience with
chilblains. Soon rosy faced children were
playing train with overturned chairs in the
living room and I watched their sunshiny
faces as I fed the baby, whose normal
colour had returned.
I think of this adventure, 43 years later, as
I walk home in the glistening white snow,
then glimpse the Christmas gifts that are
accumulating in boxes of various sizes as
I again prepare for Christmas. I also think
of how often we go coasting, so full of glee
and end up with a gigantic bump (broken
marriages, deaths, illness and defeats) and
how we smash back at life and try to climb
hills to make it back up to that pinnacle.
Often though we have to take a new path,
like the salted road, and feel cold feet and
even total numbness for a time till we find
again, warmth and sunny faces.
Country Yarns
Everything for your Knitting,
Crocheting, Cross Stitch
& Needlepoint Needs!
- Mention this ad for a 15% discount! -
2776 LaSalle Line, Petrolia
Between Mandaumin & Waterworks Rd.
(Enter St. Clair, Ontario in your GPS)
519-882-8740
Wed. 10-5 / Thurs. 10-6 / Fri. 10-5 / Sat. 10-3
www.country-yarns.com
Bell l
from the 1989 9 fire
at Victoria Hall, Petrolia
Don’t Miss One of Petrolia’s
Best Gift Shops!
Customer Appreciation Week: Nov. 6-11
Kick off to Christmas Event: Nov. 14
Cosmetics Supreme Sparkle Event: Nov. 28
LADIES NIGHT - All Day/All-Night Event: Dec. 5
MENS
MEN'S NIGHT - All Day/All-Night Event: Dec. 12
Last Minute Christmas Event: Dec. 19
HOGAN
P•H•A•R•M•A•C•Y
• Wedding • Birthday
• Baby • Home Decor
4177 Petrolia Line, Petrolia • 519-882-1840
In Petrolia's Restored, Historic Post Office
Christmas
Open O
House
November 17 th
& 18th
• Pine Furniture & Home Decor
• Scented Candles • Repurposed Furniture
• Birdhouses, Signs & Much More!
4189 Petrolia Line
Petrolia • 519-882-0747
F
rom
OurReaders
Dear Daytripping,
You can always drop off an
extra bundle or 2, or more.
I have a list of 50 customers
that I set aside Daytripping for,
and within less then 48 hours
the balance are all gone
and I always have people
coming in looking for more.
Louise Morrison,
Blenheim
Full Service Pharmacy
Full Service Cosmetic Department
Full Service Home Health Care Dept.
Mon-Fri 9-9 • Sat 9-6 • Sun 10-5
FALL/WINTER
2023-2024
“A soft voice is the sound of peace.” -Anonymous
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