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2age 4, Terrace Bay-Schreiber News, Wednesday, August 31, 1983 ™ Return of the lost child I finally got my daughter back last week. No ... she wasn't kidnapped. She didn't run away. She just decided that she needed a short vacation from her mother. All kids so at one time or another. She decided on this holiday at the end of June. She intended to take up residence at Granny's house for three weeks. Nice! Mother could get a lot of things accomplished while daughter was vacationing in the sunny clime of southern Ontario. Or so she thought. Mothers never get much accomplished while their kids away. They enjoy! They enjoy the peace and quiet ... the serenity ... the sanity ... not picking up their clothes ... not listening to their demands ... or their "'importan' = daily-stories. They just generally enjoy the freedom of being single again. For a while. A very short while. After one week of this peace, one tends to become paranoid. There's no one to pick up after. There's no one to yell at. There's no one to talk foolishly to. There is no one around, period! My daughter's proposed three week holiday turned into eight weeks. When her scheduled arrival was to take place after her three week stint, she informed me via telephone that she wasn't coming home! She was too busy to come home! She liked Lindsay. She liked Granny (and everything that she could possibly sucker out of Granny). (And she did!) She just figured that she needed some more time to herself. That was her final word ... Now, when I was eight years old, a week away from my mother would have brought heart breaking sobs from me. It would have destroyed my vacation. I would have been so homesick that it would have become unbearable. Not Dan ... she was busy! Busy running all over the country with my mother. Busy going to summer school, riding horses, going to the cottage, , going to Detroit, going to Algonquin Park camping ... she was everywhere ... doing everything imaginable. She wasn't homesick. She didn't have time to be homesick. She just didn't want to come home (sob-sob). However all good things must come to an end. And end they did. Last week, with Granny in hand, they came to Terrace Bay. My first question was ... "Is this just a vacation - or are you home to stay for awhile? Now I have something to do. I have to cook ... I have to pick up clothes ... I have to listen to the "important" stories - once, twice and sometimes even three times ... I have someone to talk foolishly to .. I'm in my glory! And believe me. After eight weeks ... so is my mother! Thanks Mom. Oh, by the Way ... you can take your ear plugs out now. Arthur Black cn The Terrace Bay-Schreiber News is published every Wednesday by: Laurentian Publishing Co. Ltd., Box 579, Terrace Bay, Ontario. POT 2W0. Telephone: (807) 825-3747. EDITOR AND MANAGER.......... ADVERTISING MANAGER......... RECEPTIONIST..................- PRODUCTION MANAGER......... DEADLINE: Friday NOON Subscription rates: $10.00 per annum (local); $14.00 per annum (out-of-town). Second Class Mail Registration No. 0867. a apnea tan ars oe ere ens Karen E. Park Sete a 5 See, Diane Matson oe eo SE ae eS Se Sharon Mark Riegel Eig Manes Nees t ro Mary Melo Gu Hole in the Fence - No.6 Pea runs away__-- = "We don't eat cookies after supper," says Bean. --Py Colour the picture. In today's story, Pea learns that his own home is the best home for him. Pea skips over to his mother. He can't wait to tell her about how Cucumber kicked Brussels Sprout. "Mommy, Mommy," he begins. Mother Pea isn't interested just then. She is getting Baby Pea ready for his afternoon nap. "Not now, Pea. I'm busy," she says. Pea hangs his head and walks away. "Baby Pea is more important than | am," he thinks. "Mommy never pays that much attention to me." Pea is very sad. The more he thinks about it, the sadder he becomes. "I'll make her sorry. I'll run away from home," he decides. "T'll take Sammy and go stay at Bean's house." Sammy is Pea's pet goldfish. Pea wouldn't think of running away without taking Sammy. On his way over to Bean's house, Pea wonders what it will be like living there. Bean doesn't have a baby brother to bother him. Bean doesn't have a Daddy, either. Bean's Daddy has gone away. "That means I'll get a lot of attention from Bean's Mommy," thinks Pea. At first, Pea likes Bean's house. Bean's mother is very nice to him and she listens to all of his stories. But Pea is a little uncomfortable. Everything at Bean's house is much bigger than at his own home. His chair is.too big and the table is too high. Then, after supper, Pea asks to have his milk and chocolate cookies. "We don't eat cookies after supper," says Bean. "Oh," says Pea, who then starts miss- ing his home very much. He misses his Mommy. He misses his Daddy. He even misses Baby Pea. 4 "Soon, it will be bedtime," says Bean. "You will have your very own room." "No, | think I'll go home now," says Pea. "Why?" asks Bean surprised. "Sammy doesn't like it here," answers Pea. Soon Pea is on his way back home. "I guess home isn't so bad, after all," he thinks. When he arrives at the gate, his mother is waiting for him. "It's late," she says crossly. "Where have you been?" "Oh," answers Pea, "I just went over to Bean's house." Mother Pea knows that Pea ran away. She is very upset. "Well, from now on you must tell me where you're going and when you'll be back." "Okay," says Pea, starting to cry. "I'm glad you're back," she says: "So am I," says Pea. "Come in and we'll have some milk and cookies," says Mother Pea. : | Fence, Box 8888, Ottawa. Ontario, The Hole in the Fence. a 132-page col- our illustrated storybook published by Health and Welfare Canada, was developed in cooperation with provincial alcohol drug c issions foundati It is ilable for '$4.50 through local bookstores or by send- ing a cheque money order payable to the Receiver General of Canada to: Canadian Government Publishing Centre. Hull. Quebec. KIA 0S9. A family guide to this preventive drug edu- cation and living skills program contains story résumes. colouring pictures. home crafts and discussion ideas. It is available free. on request. from The Hole in the KIG 3J2. Egalement disponible en francais sous le titre "Mes amis, mon jardin". "Pain-in-the-neck" trouble Life's a funny thing. You seem to spend half of it looking for solitude and contentment, and the other half chasing the bright lights. I think most of us kind of oscillate between the two poles -- torn between "Peace and Quiet" and a "Piece of The Action."' But I can name three people who would sign-up for the Peace and Quiet option right now. They are three people in trouble. Not big trouble -- just pain-in-the- neck trouble. They are: (1) Edna Hulbert, bottle droppre (2) Helen Murphy, reckless driver (3) B. Bonnell, beard-grower _ Edna Hulbert is a world travel- ler. Correction: she is a semi world traveller. She can go almost anywhere she wants -- Katman- du, Pago Pago, the South Pole, Baffinland ... but she can't go to Oshkosh, Wisconsin. The Oshkosh cops are looking for.Edna. Ms. Hulbert is, you see, a bottle dropper. She likes to : write notes, cork them into bot- tles, then flip the bottles into riv- ers, lakes and oceans all over the world. She's dropped bottles into the Atlantic, the Pacific and the Caribbean, not to mention the Thames, the Seine, the Rhine and the Blue Danube. Recently she added the Upper Fox River to her list of "bottled" rivers. The bottle she dropped in the Upper Fox eventually washe- d-up against the shiny boots of one of Oshkosh's Finest. The officer uncorked the bottle, found Edna's address and wrote to her. Sort of. Actually he sent her a $50 ticket. For "river littering." Edna is defiant. She says that Oshkosh can go to blazes. And she's pretty safe I guess. Edna lives in Chicago and Oshkosh doesn't have an extradition treaty with Chicago. Not for river littering anyway. Helen Murphy has run afoul of the law too. She lives in Spring- field, Mass., and the Spring- field Chief of Police is after her -- for speeding. On the sidewalk. "She tools along and blows her horn, yelling at people to get out of her way" the chief complains. So why doesn't the Chief just flag her down and book her? Well, it's not that simple. It's her vehicle, you see. Helen Murphy's driving a motorized wheelchair and the police are still waiting for a court ruling on whether Mrs. Murphy's bomb can be considered a 'motorized vehicle." Which brings us to the case of B. Bonnell. Bonnell used to be the front desk clerk at the YMCA in downtown Seattle. Not anymore. Bonnell was re- moved from that job. Fired, in fact. For what the YMCA man- agement called "excessive facial hair growth."' That's a joke. Bonnell doesn't have an "excessive" beard. It's just a wispy, black goatee. But the YMCA executive didn't like it. They ordered Bonnell to shave it off. Bonnell refused. Bonnell was given the gate. Sounds like a flagrant case of human rights violation, and per- haps it is. : But you can understand why an organization as ..... ummm ... traditional as the YMCA might be a little nervous about the Bonnell beard. Bonnell's first name is Beverly. Bonnell, you see, is a she.