14 hectare fire that appears contained
Thanks to Brent Redenbach for the photos
Years ago a friend of mine gave me a book. I put it with other books and let it gather dust for more than a decade. It is a decision I regret. I misjudged a little book by its cover.
When I came across it the other day I made it part of my summer reading. Its content has helped me to reflect and understand many things I’ve read and conversation I have engaged in. I also reflected on something my school principal told me about choosing words by weighing their value and meaning. For example, It is not important that we swear, what is important is the value of the word. In other words we need to know it is alright to swear if there is no other word of equal value. He then introduced us to a vault full of descriptive words that dwarf the value of swear words.
Why do I mention this before revealing the book title? To emphasize its impact. Because the book is about a subject we seldom give cause to really think about. It was written in 2005 and is still available. It was written by Philosopher, Harry G Frankfurst.
Its title? “On Bullshit”
It is akin to an essay paper.
He puts forth a theory defining the concept as to what qualifies as legitimate bullshit in the context of communication. He also defines bullshit as speech intended to persuade people without regard for the truth. A loose interpretation from Wikipedia
After reading the content a picture emerges as to how people make presentations to government, or the manner in which governments feed us information. It also demonstrates just how important a roll bullsh*t plays in communication.
If you are puzzled by how easy it’s been to hoodwink so many Americans following Trump some answers become evident. Another example is how we just accept what our government tells us with barely a question in many cases.
‘On Bullshit’ is actually a very insightful read. It’s a quick read of 67 pages written by a recognized moral philosopher and a professor of philosophy emeritus at Princeton University,
I am sure you will find it informative and engaging and that’s no bull.
May 22nd, 1939 – July 28th, 2020
In his 81st year William (Bill) Livingstone Miller passed away in Oliver BC.
Bill was born in May 1939 in Kilsyth Scotland and was the son of John and Jane Miller and brother to John of Guelph. Bill joined the Merchant Navy and trained to be a radio operator. When was taken on ship he became a steward instead. It did not matter to him; he was now travelling the world in a time when that was the purview of the rich and famous. Bill sailed on Pacific & Orient ships that did the Britain- India- Australia run. During the Suez crisis his ship transited the Cape of Good Hope in South Africa and he enjoyed the view of Tabletop Mountain and the delights of Cape Town
In 1960 Bill emigrated to Canada, settling in Kitchener. He worked for Electrohome initially and then was hired at the KW Hospital in the ambulance department. That is where he met the love of his life Sandra Francis Cragg She was a young nursing student at the college there, and she loved how he looked in his white uniform. They married in 1962 and had two children, Scott Andrew and Jeffrey Cragg.
Bill worked for IBM doing repairs on the Selectric typewriter and photocopiers for over 25 years. When they offered early retirement, he took it, but got bored and returned to work in the parts department. He did this for a few more years and said that this was his favourite time at IBM.
Bill always had a love for the sea and owned a sailboat called “Piece o’ Mine” in Ontario. He docked it beside the famous “Red Green” of duct tape and TV fame. Even after selling it he and Sandra would visit friends they met in Hamilton during those years. Later, they would take to cruising and they did so many times that they were made members of the line’s frequent Cruiser club. Bill and Sandy also enjoyed travelling around the world and made friends wherever they went. They loved Cozumel the most and wanted to return there at some time.
Predeceased by his wife Sandy in 2019, Bill kept himself busy with family, walks and cruises. His final cruise was a trip to New Zealand for a 14-day sail around the islands. He was planning another cruise with his son Scott to the Panama Canal but was interrupted by the pandemic of 2020.
Bill was a wonderful husband to Sandy and perfect father for Scott and Jeff. He took his obligations seriously and always dressed neatly in his black shorts, shirt and Panama hat. He loved shopping and meeting dogs on his route making sure he always had treats in his pockets, just in case.
We will miss you dad. Thank you for taking care of Sandy, Scott, Jeff, your daughter in law Denise, and grandsons Hunter and Blake. You can rest now with Sandy.
Condolences and tributes may be directed to the family by visiting www.nunes-pottinger.com
Ever noticed how certain sounds, smells or tastes can take you back to the past, usually to times spent with family or friends enjoying spending time together.
The sound of a bell or a chime always takes me back to my years as a young mom. The ice cream van always had a chime which my little kids recognised from several streets away and, a couple of times a week we would all troops out to queue for small cones.
Trouble is that there were several ice cream vans who plied their trade in our area, every summer afternoon and rather than put up with having to refuse four preschoolers and the resulting tantrums, Dave and I would suddenly break out into “Ring a round the rosie” which would get the kids all excited as we danced round in a circle, all of them waiting for the “all fall down” part, which they loved. They never realized our ploy for diverting attention as they were having too much fun.
The smell of sugar caramelising immediately takes me back to my childhood Novembers in England, when November fifth meant bonfire night. Guy Falkes night always meant a big community bonfire on every piece of spare land throughout the neighbourhood.
For many weeks before children could be seen dragging all types of wood, from nearby thickets to the place where their bonfire was to be built. However natural wood was also supplemented with old furniture, lumber left over from building sites and quite often an upright piano.
Many people in the community would use Guy Falkes night as the time to get rid of granddad’s old chair or some other piece of no longer used furniture. This was very handy to sit on during the early part of the evening, and would be saved till last, so we didn’t lose our seats.
On the big night, most of the local moms would bring out some sort of treat, treacle toffee, parkin (which was a sticky ginger cake), black peas, which were really weird and potatoes that would be roasted in the embers. These were never cooked properly but would be burned on the outside and raw in the middle, however, standing out in the cold by the huge fire, nobody ever admitted that the potatoes were terrible, we all ate them and pretended they were delicious.
Grandma was a strict rationer of sweet stuff as she was always making dire predictions of rotting teeth. However, she always made toffee apples for bonfire night and the smell of caramel boiling on the stove would make my mouth water. She made about thirty of them so usually enough for each kid in the street. She always told me that I would get the leftovers, however there never were any, so my teeth didn’t get the opportunity to rot as my teeth were always scrubbed after my one solitary apple.
The smell of vinegar always brings back memories of fish and chips eaten whilst walking home from the cinema, so good when sprinkled with salt and malt vinegar and enjoyed with your sweetie. Fingers would carry the smell of the vinegar all the way home. Eaten with a knife and fork, on a plate will never be the same as those eaten in the cold night air, followed by exchanging salty kisses.
Today, I was walking with my daughter, in her home town on Vancouver Island. We spent a couple of hours in and out of stores, finishing up in the grocery store. When we came out and were lugging the bags back to the car, we decided to sit on a bench for a while.
While we sat there we got a wonderful smell of roasted meat wafting around the air. I thought it smelled rather like Italian sausage, on a grill, my daughter thought it seemed like garlic roast beef. We were wondering where the smell came from but there were no likely café’s around.
After a while we got up to go home and on walking away from the bench we noticed we were sitting outside the funeral parlour and crematorium! At first we were horrified at the remarks we had been making about the smells making our mouths water, then we saw the funny side of things and decided that the late departed loved one was probably an Italian guy who loved his garlic!
Very irreverent, but luckily the bereaved family were safely inside the building and didn’t hear our very unfortunate remarks.
6:33 pm – Near Rd 5 and Hwy 97 – two vehicle crash. No known injuries. Both cars left roadway and Oliver Fire Department attended briefly
8:01 pm – Up Rd 13 at Hwy 97 – small grass and brush fire near irrigation lateral. Oliver Fire Department dispatched water tenders and bush trucks to fight the blaze. It was knocked back and down within an hour.