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Tag Archives: Newmarket


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#SoCS – Shortcut of my Youth

In what was the little town of Newmarket, Ontario, where I grew up (it’s a city now, so don’t go there looking for something quaint) there is a small lake, called Fairy Lake. It really was never much more than a place where the river got wider, I realize now, but something tells me it used to be much more.

Every day, I walked to school from my house on Lundy’s Lane, up Red Deer Street to Patterson Street where both my primary and secondary schools were approximately situated. I walked that way except when I took the shortcut. You see, there is (or probably was, now) a large storm sewer under Red Deer with a teeny tiny creek running through it. I used to catch crayfish there and keep them in a bucket on the front steps of my house until they died. (I was a horrible child, looking back.) But back to the shortcut.

I can only think that storm sewer existed for when Fairy Lake flooded, because it was the only body of water around. Farther down from the storm sewer was a swamp (now has baseball fields on it) and a lock for boats that dried up long before I became a teenager. I digress yet again.

One day, I think I may have been in Grade 2, I was late for school so I took the shortcut. Something I never did at the time. I was a responsible 8 year old, after all. But this day I decided to dawdle. They had the police looking for me by the time I arrived at school with not a clue what the big deal was. Because of course, when they went to look for me on Lundy’s Lane, Red Deer, and Patterson Street, I was no where to be found.

I understand now the terror that I must have caused by stopping to pick weeds along the path behind the houses. And I suppose I must have kept my shortcut hidden from the adults, because they didn’t go there to look for me.

I’ve never told anyone this story before. There are no adults left who would remember it, nor any children of that time who I associate now with who would.

Thanks for the memories, stream of consciousness. And thank you to you, who have read my story. 🙂

Google map satellite picture of my walk to school. The creek is still there.

The locks, part of what is now the Global Pet Foods Dog Park.

This post is brought to you by Stream of Consciousness Saturday. Join in, and maybe you’ll take your own trip down memory lane! It’s fun! https://lindaghill.com/2017/11/03/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-nov-417/


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SoCS – Going Home

Photo0033

I used to go there as a kid. My friends and I spent hours there, or sometimes I’d just go alone and sit. The locks were unused even back then – the place was run down and at the end of a dusty old road that went no where, it was rare to see people there.  That was my experience of Newmarket, Ontario, Canada in the seventies. It was where I spent most of my time.

The picture was taken two and a half years ago. I went back, on my own just to see how much had changed.

They’ve turned it into a public trail now. “Beautified” it–in my estimation it was beautiful when it was solitary. There were so many people walking across the bridge on the day I was there, but few came down to my spot under the tree where I would sit and contemplate life and make up stories as a kid.

Photo0034I could barely hear them over the sound of the rushing water, so I felt at peace still. I remember sitting on the big final step with my legs dangling over, wondering how cold the water was. There were rumours that people had drowned in the current – I doubt it’s very deep, but you never know. In years gone by there was water running down the other side too… the level was much higher back then.

Now the fence prevents anyone from exploring like I used to. There was no fence back then. Just the drop.

That day two years ago I remember not wanting to leave. I must have sat on that concrete slab for two hours or more. I kept saying to myself, “I don’t want to go.”

It’s a bitter-sweet feeling, revisiting a place that means so much – that so much of the past can be remembered by. The sharp scent of iron in the water, the constant, unending shush of the waterfall, the birds chirping in the trees, the heat of the summer rising humidly from the ground.

It didn’t matter that I didn’t want to leave that spot; I knew I had to get up and go eventually.

You know the feeling.

 

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

This post is part of SoCS – join in the fun today!!  https://lindaghill.com/2015/03/06/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-715/

 


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Stream of Consciousness Saturday Fe8/14

Don’t you hate it when you see someone who you think you recognize but you’re not sure?

There are two scenarios that I can think of at the moment: One; you can’t place the person at all, and two; you’re not sure if it’s the person you think it is or if it’s some stranger.

For instance, I’m sitting in the food court of the local mall, watching a guy who I can see in profile as he talks to a little girl beside him, and I could swear it’s Tyler Stewart, drummer for the band, the Bare Naked Ladies. So, do I go over and say hi to him? It wouldn’t be too weird – I went to high school with him. We were in the same music program together. He has much less hair now… But I’m thinking, if it was him, wouldn’t there be mobs of people hanging around him?

Maybe not.

What do you do when this happens? Do you avoid eye contact and hope they don’t notice you? Do you take a chance?

I once had a woman walk up to me in a shopping mall, much like the one I’m in, and she was absolutely positive I was someone else. She called me “Nicky,” asked me how I’d been doing, and I think she was going to hug me until I managed to get a word in edgewise and tell her she had the wrong person. Wow, was she embarrassed.

Since then, (and even before, but more so since then) I’m very careful about who I approach. Actually, I usually run in the other direction, which is what I’ll do today I think. After all, if I want Tyler’s autograph, I can probably wait ’til the next high school reunion.