Welcome to The Club v4.1 Winter 2023/24

Welcome to...
Contact Us: 519-845-0847
info@wyomingtreeservice.ca
THE Club
a Farm
to Table
Restaurant
Open
Wed-Sat
Elevated Seasonal Dishes, Inspired Cocktails,
Ontario Beers, Daily & Weekly Features.
639 BROADWAY ST. WYOMING
www.localwyomingon.ca
Growing
A Greener
Community,
One Tree
At A Time
SENIORS 10% OFF (65+)
MARLEY PHARMACY
60 Y Years of f S Service i t to Wyoming
W i
& The Surrounding Community!
“WHERE GOOD FRIENDS MEET!”
• Compounding Service Offered
607 Broadway Street,
Wyoming 519-845-3341
Flying
Blind?
A flight en route
to L.A. from San
Francisco had
to make an unexpected stop in
Sacramento. The flight attendant
explained there would be a delay,
and if the passengers wanted to
get off the plane, it would
reboard in 30 minutes. Everyone
got off the plane except a blind
man with his support dog. The
pilot approached him, and said
“Sir, we’re in Sacramento for
almost an hour. Would you like to
get off and stretch your legs?”
The man replied, “No thanks, but
maybe the dog would like to
stretch his legs. (Picture this) All
the people in the gate area came
to a complete standstill when
they looked up and saw the pilot
walk off the plane with a Seeing
Eye Dog! The pilot was even
wearing sunglasses.
• hay fever
• oral thrush
• pink eye
• dermatitis
We offer
prescriptions for:
• acid reflux
• hemorrhoids
• cold sores
• impetigo
• insect bites and hives
• urinary tract infections
• menstrual cramps
• sprains & strains
• tick bites
Bathroom
& Kitchen
Showroom
519-845-3726
www.PlymptonPlumbing.com • 4401 London Line, Wyoming
If this brings back good memories, send us some of your own.
ITALIAN
A bad agreement is better
than a good lawsuit.
There is no thief
worse than a bad book.
The remedy for injuries
is not to remember
them.
Years can seldom be hidden.
Make sure to be in with your equals if you are going to
fall out with your superiors.
Of what does not concern you say nothing good or bad.
Nothing improves the taste of pasta
more than a good appetite.
A person who knows little knows enough
if they know how to hold their tongue.
If pride were a disease, how many would be already dead?
Between two cowards, the first to detect the other
has the advantage.
Conscience is as good as a thousand witnesses.
A hundred wagon loads of thoughts will not pay
a single ounce of debt.
The biggest fool can ask a question the wisest man
cannot answer.
Love rules without rules.
Grandma’s Jelly
In memoriam: Ella Dauber (1882 – 1964)
By James Deahl, Sarnia • from Daytripping Sept-Oct 2017
Every family grew grapes back home
when I was a boy. There were purple
Concord and pale-green Niagara grapes,
both well suited for the climate and
soil of the lower Great Lakes region,
and our back gardens offered grape
arbours everywhere. By mid-September
the nights grew cooler and our vines
hung heavy with fruit. These were table
grapes, not wine grapes, and when in
season we ate them every day. But eat
as we would, nobody could eat them
all. And what was not on the table was
turned into jam or jelly.
During the years following the end
of World War II, old people did not
commonly receive pensions; they relied
on their children for support when their
working days were over. Thus, as far
back as I can remember, my maternal
grandparents lived with us. Grandpa
had been a machinist, Grandma a
homemaker. By the time I was old
enough to know my grandpa, he was
quite infirm. But, wild boy that I was,
I kept my Granny busy mending the
knees and elbows of my clothes. She
also fixed my many cuts and scrapes.
But best of all, she was our family’s jelly
maker.
When the Concord grapes ripened,
out would come three dozen jars to be
sterilized by boiling. My job was to pick
the grapes and bring them to the kitchen.
Then came the cooking in a great pot with
a bit of added sugar. The sweet aroma
filled our home and spread far and wide.
Everyone in the neighbourhood could
tell when some family made their jam or
jelly. Later, the magic ingredient, pectin,
was added, followed by more cooking.
It was a day-long process, especially
the straining. Drip, drip, drip. Finally,
paraffin was slowly melted in a double
boiler. This sealed the jars, a delicate
process. Our year’s supply of Concord
jelly was placed in the basement pantry.
In addition to grapes, sugar, and pectin,
a lot of love went into each and every jar.
I have not tasted Grandma’s jelly since
the 1950s, but I still remember it thickly
spread over my breakfast toast.
P A G E
26
I ate a clock yesterday, it was very time consuming.
WINTER 23/24