crunpd up like me? If i 5m part Irish. hudmï¬bnedwuln eedwith me at MM. It was one o? my few brushes with death: the incident with the chicken ball in the China lutaurant wasn't nearly as dramat- ic. But I wasn’t very keen on swimming utter that (by. What if? my cqmpanlonrhqd l cramped up and panicked. To shorten the tale. my companion was forced ï¬rst to drag me out to the rock. make me as comfortable as possible. then swim back to shore. break in to a boat house, and row out to rescue me. By the time we both at back to our clothes on shore. the clouds ad passed, the sunshine had returned and it was as if the whole saga had never happened. And there's one Irish moment that stands out from my time there a quarter-century ago. I was hiking with a companion in the hills of Connemara, near the Galway town of Clifden. It was a ï¬ne July day. We came to the shores of a large pond called Lach lnach. and wanting to cool down. we challenged each other to a race out to a rock in the middle of the lach. But storms can com! up suddenly on the west coast (as I learned later), and as we were swimming clouds arose and the temperature of the water plummeted by sew era] degrees. o be sure, St. Paddy's Day or not. there are times when it’s not all that grand to claim Irish blood in your veins. Not long ago, for instance. you couldn't be too proud of the Catholics and Protestants blowin’ each other up in Northern Ireland. As feisty as the Irish are. it was still hard to understand. Despite their failings. however. the folk of the Emerald Isle can lay claim to a number of wondrous things. Guinness and Bailey’s Irish Cream being among the most delicious. The plays of Synge and O'Casey. or the poems of Yeats, are close behind. There’s a lot of magic in the soil over there. Now. I was not even certain of the presence of the Irish in my family tree until I actually paid a visit to the place in 1976. My mother's folk are German and English. but the Boyces were Normans (originally Du Bois) who came over with William the Conqueror in» 1066 and then dispersed all over the British Islet Some of them wound up in Ireland, my own ancestors reputedly among theni. But it wasn't until I was wandering down the main street of a large town called letterbnny in Donegal. near the northwest coast of the Republic, that this ancestry was continued. I got a strange feeling as I strolled down the cobblestones, and I looked up‘and noticed that of all the shingles hanging out over the shops almost every other one identi- ï¬ed the proprietorsas Boyce or O’Boyce (that is. son of Boyce). I ran to a telephone booth and consulted a directory§ure enough, there were literally hundreds of we Boyces in letterkenny, and if I ever fully investigate my inheritance, I'm sure I’ll ï¬nd that at least some of my family knew that main street well. The/Luck of the Irish ~uwm-Muchzoos Con-fessions Conrad Boyce If you look at the once-small toï¬ms nf southern Ontario that are now thriving. such as Unlonvllle and Klelnhum, whm Unfortunately. l was surprised by the lack of focus on arts and culture in the commu» nity. The downtown had little to offer for a weekend tourist excursion, and there was- n't even an established studio tour! The one beacon of hope was the lateham Gallery. The gallery has been the cultural centre of this community for the last 26 years. When arts programs were being cut in our schools, the gallery was there to offer programs for all ages of children. When local artists needed help promoting their own work within the community, the gallery has been there. it is a desperately needed institution in our communityi 1 am a potter, and when my husband and l relocated four years ago. we were looking for a culturally diverse and active commuâ€" nity to work and live in. I thought Whitchurch-Stouï¬ville would be the perâ€" fect place: close to the city but with a rural feel... just the thing to draw tourists to the community for afternoons of gallery. stuâ€" dio, and store hopping. The following is an open letter to Mayor Sherban and members of council. I am writing to you regarding the town's fupding of the latcham Gallery. PICNIC AT BETHESDA - We're trying to rush the season a bit by showing this scene of a meal during an early summer barn raising near the hamlet of Bethesda, probably in the very early part of the last century. The women are ï¬nishing setting the table, while the men (and the infant sitting in the potato patch) patiently wait. A pencilled note on the back of the photo says the event took place at the ‘Sherricks’. Do any of our readers remember the Sherricks of Bethesda? Write and tell us about them. Yum VIEW Dear Editor. Lookingdooking back back A Mn 0! Star Mil/“Ml? 0mm Inc. AMMWMWMWmaM Dunbuung 34 (:Mo Am, Wis MA 725 Mme: 905642-1908 Fax 9055408778 WHITCHURCH-STOUPI’VILLB Photo courtesy of the Whitchurth-Swufli/ille Museum. Wing The gallery staï¬ and their many volunâ€" teers have accomplished the huge task of securing the Ontario 'Iï¬llium Foundation grant. Now it is lime for you. the represenâ€" tatives of our community. to step up and support the gallery. they have in common is a very strong arts and cultural community. anchored by suc- cessful galleries. People gravitate towards lively communities. Businesses follow. I fear that Stoufl‘ville is becoming a commv muter town with nothing to otfer its inhabâ€" itants, and nothing to draw in tourists. \Mth the potential loss of the Country Market. what is there to draw people to our town? A community is not built on subdivisions alone. o-moll mman/mgmm ON OUR COVER Sincerely, JENNIFER CREEGGAN S'lUUHW’HJJ" "moun " an Africa lion dragging a rap turrrl zrbra, For a I'mnm‘ inrrrvirw with Cyril. plum turn to [mgr 3. Photo by Conrad Bayrr. BRINGING THE DIM!) TO â€Hi A Gormlcy laxi- dermis: (.‘yril D'Souzn with one of his favourite Dnnuwnou Mamaâ€"n Barry Blark Mmmuc Emo- (bnmd Boyre Pumnou Mam Anna Bawlrk I kept a straight face. and looked suitably con- cerned whlle I tried not to laugh. It was rather quiet in the house for a day or two after. and for that l was thankful. I really believe he was in shock. and the bomb that I expected to (Imp never did. Before the cut floor was properly reinforred. I arrived home to an awkwardly walking hus- band. It seems the floor gave way. and he fell through and couldn't get out for close to an hour. When he fell he landed on the cross beams and in pain he slowly clawed his way out. with the sink moved. I needed more counter space and without the island I need new cup- boards. m M": Ownlons crowd by columnists. mmnbmuvs and mum-unnmmmmmmmwutmm Include a emulate name, nouns and Wm mm. mm Whomtmpublishovnmoubnshammodn'ovdamand W‘WMIMWWKMMMMMt mammWMIdeonmmnm‘mm-nm “semi.“mwubhmlsnmuabbmmmquMmm nomnmowomhnmwmqm1MNmmu any mom um tonne Wm All mm m m In mm mwummmmmommmmnamumm.mm mmmmmhuwmhummMmmmm-mm Old houses. I have now leamt, are full of sur- prises, most of them had. The old pipes rebelled. and floor boards that were cut shifted and meant we now needed a new kitchen floor. Tb make a long stary abort, a hole was cut in the kitchen floor to allow easier access to the pipes as they leaked and leaked and then leaked some more. Dread ï¬lled me as I entered the house and saw the exposed floor boards where the island had once sat. Oh, i thought, oh this was not good arid i dreaded facing myrhusband. Did I listen? Not a chance. I threw caution to the wind and went ahead with my plans. I ï¬g- ured I wouldn't get killed since itwas so close to Christmas. The plumber was called and I headed home feeling excited but anxious on the day of the “sink transferral." Entering the yard, I noticed that pieces of the cupboard that l was going to place beside the stove were now resting outside the house. As much as I tried to convince him it was a small job, he told me to slow down. and remind- ed me that I always rush and can never wait for anything. Slightly oï¬'ended but all the more determined, I tried in vain to convince him. Digging in his heels he remained adamantly opposed and told me to dmp it for the time being. The more I thdught about it the better the idea became. I could have the sink under the win- dow and enjoy the backyard view. Piece of cake. I ï¬gured. My husband did not. I was asked if! remembered which day I had lost my mind. lust weeks before Christmas, I was feeling slightly bored one evening while sitting in the kitchen. Looking around, I thought that I never really liked the little island that housed the sink. One day. far into the future, we had planned to switch things around, but this seemed to me like the perfect time to get started. Not much involved, should be easy work and little mess and what a nice present for the house, or so I thoughL PUBLISHER Ian Proud/00! Rural Reflections Kitchen Hell Mu Imam!!! Annette Schmidt [non Parsons Iann 5m]! Rab tau/1w Ruth LeBlanc