Toronto neighbourhood: Nearly all of them I d bought as a small boy, saving my weekly allowance and collecting discarded pop bottles in the ravines that surrounded our east Toronto neighbourhood like veins, bottles that brought pennie worth of riches when returned for their deposits, according to Toronto Star. For decades, those lures have sat in the same tackle box, just inside the door of the log cabin that my father built almost single-handedly. I can still picture him carrying huge logs on his slim shoulders, relying mostly on his massive hands for stability, as if acting out some primal Scottish need to build in a new land with cabers, if possible just as generations of Scots had done before him. As if in punctuation, the cabin door even has a keyed iron lock of truly medieval proportions, an immigrant, like my father, from the land of oatmeal and whisky and The lures are all still there the Mepps #5, the Spin Hula Dancer, the two-inch Rapala, the Jitterbug, the rubber crayfish, and a personal favourite, the Heddon Dying Flutter, with the price, $1.65, permanently inked onto its underbelly. Whenever I felt sufficiently flush, I d troop through the factory district on the other side of one ravine to the sporting goods section of Canadian Tire, carefully avoiding the Peek Freans bakery, from whose trucks we kids used to steal cookies. None of the lures ever worked, unless you started with the weird conceit that their chief purpose was ensnaring weeds or getting caught on Precambrian rock under the water out front of the family cottage in the Kawarthas.
(www.immigrantscanada.com). As
reported in the news.
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12.1.15