Cornhill

Imagine an oasis in the middle of the fields and forests of rural New Brunswick and that is an apt description of Cornhill Nursery just outside of Petticoadiac - our destination this past week for a well deserved getaway from the every day routine. It was a warm day but as I sat down in a cool secluded spot I knew we had made the right choice for a pleasant day trip. I was a little tired after the long drive but the friendly yet somehow familiar surroundings immediately put me at ease and I felt right at home.

As I took my comfort in the quiet solitude I couldn't help but admire the tasteful artwork of various local artisans. The walls were decorated with beautiful paintings and creative wall hangings crafted from what appeared to be indigenous materials. Light filtered down from the skylight above and augmented the pleasing architecture all around me. A soft summer breeze drifted by as I was lulled by the sound of nearby running water...

I could actually feel the pressures of the day drain away as I started to drift into a state of complete relaxation. The smell of the fresh cut flowers made me want to linger but there was so much to see and do. In my reverie I could hear what sounded like the droning of bees... or was it the ceiling fan? I heard the distant rap-rap-rapping of what sounded like a woodpecker... but no - it was more like someone knocking. "Be right out!" I quickly replied as the spell was broken.

I quickly flushed and splashed some cool water on my face as I took one more wistful look around. If the rest of Cornhill Nursery proved to be as pleasant and welcoming as their bathroom (and it did) I knew that I was in for a treat. I recommend this trip to anyone who like me, has an appreciation for the finer things in life.

An Open and Shut Case

Case Number: VT 05/04/01/3462

Incident: Gastronomic Incident
Reporting Officer: Constable Meehan
Date of Report: 12 August 2012

At about 1040 hours on 12 August 2012, I received an urgent call from a Mrs. Judith Haynes of 30 Brighton Ct. regarding a suspected domestic incident at her residence. Mrs. Haynes said she returned from church at approx. 1030 hours Sunday morning and noticed a peculiar smell in the house. She smelled smoke and began to panic as she suspected a K-911 (kitchen break-in) had occurred. Upon gaining entry to the scene of the incident I was struck by a strong smell of garlic and onions and some other smell I could not quite recognize. There was a frying pan on the stove with remnants of what appeared to be a strange green material.

I conducted a survey of the scene and found several suspected weapons - a fork, two knives, and a spatula. There were no signs of forced entry into the refrigerator so I knew it was an inside job. I took several photographs of the evidence and then surveyed the rest of the house. That was when I discovered her husband, lying on the couch and unresponsive but with a satisfied smile on his face. There was a plate on the coffee table with a greasy smear of bacon, a few crumbs and the unmistakable remnant of a piece of green tomato. Suddenly I recognized that smell in the kitchen and knew that this would be an open and shut case. After all, my old man had suffered from the same strange addiction. It was the start of the fried green tomato season and I knew we could expect a few more calls of this sort - happens every year.

I obtained a sworn statement from Mrs. Haynes that she would keep an eye on her husband's diet and provided her with the case number and Information Leaflet 99/07 ("Living with a Tomaholic"). I entered the report details into the station database as another seasonal gastronomic incident. Just before heading back to the precinct I made a last minute search of the general vicinity as we had reports of a chicken being held in the area without a permit. I went to the garden shed - slowly opened the door and then quickly shut it again. Like I said - an open and shut case. End of report.

Now We Are Sixty*

When I was one I had just begun

When I was ten I was only ten

When I was twenty I had plenty 

When I was thirty I was flirty

When I was forty - Lordy Lordy

When I was fifty I was nifty 

But now I am sixty and clever as clever 

I think I'll be sixty for ever and ever!

*with apologies to A.A. Milne