Christmas time
I just started to write this blog post and stopped in mid sentance then hit the delete key. I was going to start off saying 45 years ago Christmas time was different. The 45 year thing stopped me dead in my tracks. Wow, oh well on with the blog.
I certainly have memories of Christmas but also of the time leading up to and around that special date. Back in the 50's my dad purchased two properties comprising about 400 acres in and near Sundridge Ontario. As a teenager that was the middle of nowhere and at least a 5 hour boring drive from Oakville. No tv, no radio, except WABC on the skip in the summer time. That said, I do have some fond memories of going to Sundridge with friends such as Gary Welna and John Nash. I have posted on Facebook some pictures of Welna and I swimming at Starvation Lake (great name eh!) and going through a sugar bush in the spring.
My father, ever the entrepenuer, grew Christmas trees on one of the farms. Each November, along with my brother Terry and a few helpers, my dad would cut a tractor trailer load of trees and ship them south. Some he sold to stands in Oakville like the old Dairy Freeze at Lakeshore and Kerr Street. About half the load ended up on our front lawn on Cudmore Road. People from across Bronte and Oakville came our house to buy their tree. I can remember standing in the rows some for pine other for spruce, digging out a tree that caught a father or mother's eye, clearing of the snow and standing it up for viewing. Sometimes this was at night and the inspection took place in the headlight beams of their car.
An average tree was $3 or $4 and a really tall one $5. I think I did get to keep a buck or two of every tree sold which I used for Christmas gifts purchased at Allan's Drug Store or Wright's Dry Goods. I don't know how people found us, whether it was word of mouth or my dad did some advertising, but here always seemed to be a steady stream of cars coming to our house. To this day the smell of a fresh cut tree means more than just Christmas.
There were always a few trees that did not sell and in May they were dried out and excellent fuel for a bond fire which we had at the end of our long driveway. Selling those trees from our front yard (some of which were donated to Westbrook School for fund raising) was more than just a little side business, but part of the community texture and fabric. You knew most of the people that came and it gave us a chance to share a bit of the Christmas spirit. What I do remember was that everyone was happy and in a good mood.
Fast forward to the Bronte and Oakville of today. First, the neighbours would object, a bylaw enforcement officer would issue a ticket and the Oakville Beaver would write an article on the contraversy. Residents would write a letter to the editor complaining and a group of neighbours would form the Cudmore Road Ratepayers Association and demand Council do something to ban this outragous activity. They would cite lost property values, traffic and environmental impacts as major concerns. There would be public meetings, legal opinions and staff reports to Council and soon the sale of Christmas trees would not be permitted anywhere in Oakville south of Hwy. 5.
Somewhere along the way Oakville and Bronte changed. Really what changed was the people changed. And Christmas changed, getting that tree was no longer a community activity where people knew their neighbours and it was as much about creating memories as getting the tree.
I certainly have memories of Christmas but also of the time leading up to and around that special date. Back in the 50's my dad purchased two properties comprising about 400 acres in and near Sundridge Ontario. As a teenager that was the middle of nowhere and at least a 5 hour boring drive from Oakville. No tv, no radio, except WABC on the skip in the summer time. That said, I do have some fond memories of going to Sundridge with friends such as Gary Welna and John Nash. I have posted on Facebook some pictures of Welna and I swimming at Starvation Lake (great name eh!) and going through a sugar bush in the spring.
My father, ever the entrepenuer, grew Christmas trees on one of the farms. Each November, along with my brother Terry and a few helpers, my dad would cut a tractor trailer load of trees and ship them south. Some he sold to stands in Oakville like the old Dairy Freeze at Lakeshore and Kerr Street. About half the load ended up on our front lawn on Cudmore Road. People from across Bronte and Oakville came our house to buy their tree. I can remember standing in the rows some for pine other for spruce, digging out a tree that caught a father or mother's eye, clearing of the snow and standing it up for viewing. Sometimes this was at night and the inspection took place in the headlight beams of their car.
An average tree was $3 or $4 and a really tall one $5. I think I did get to keep a buck or two of every tree sold which I used for Christmas gifts purchased at Allan's Drug Store or Wright's Dry Goods. I don't know how people found us, whether it was word of mouth or my dad did some advertising, but here always seemed to be a steady stream of cars coming to our house. To this day the smell of a fresh cut tree means more than just Christmas.
There were always a few trees that did not sell and in May they were dried out and excellent fuel for a bond fire which we had at the end of our long driveway. Selling those trees from our front yard (some of which were donated to Westbrook School for fund raising) was more than just a little side business, but part of the community texture and fabric. You knew most of the people that came and it gave us a chance to share a bit of the Christmas spirit. What I do remember was that everyone was happy and in a good mood.
Fast forward to the Bronte and Oakville of today. First, the neighbours would object, a bylaw enforcement officer would issue a ticket and the Oakville Beaver would write an article on the contraversy. Residents would write a letter to the editor complaining and a group of neighbours would form the Cudmore Road Ratepayers Association and demand Council do something to ban this outragous activity. They would cite lost property values, traffic and environmental impacts as major concerns. There would be public meetings, legal opinions and staff reports to Council and soon the sale of Christmas trees would not be permitted anywhere in Oakville south of Hwy. 5.
Somewhere along the way Oakville and Bronte changed. Really what changed was the people changed. And Christmas changed, getting that tree was no longer a community activity where people knew their neighbours and it was as much about creating memories as getting the tree.
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