Joyce Marie’s blog

This is to inform those who have asked about ‘EYES OF A STRANGER. I still have a number of books on hand and they are for sale. They cost me $7.50/book to have them printed but I will sell them for $6. each as the cost of mailing them is now so high. The postage is ridiculous. I am offering to send you a book for $10. If you want one. Some have asked for the book but I need your mailing address. Thanks to those who have kept up with the story every day and made such nice comments. Every comment was encouraging. Thank you!

When I was little, there wasn’t much to play with in our house. I don’t know what my poor brother did for toys as I don’t believe we had any. I do remember I got my first doll at Christmas when I was three (but that’s another story). My mother used to give me old Simpson and Eaton catalogues to play with. She gave me an old pair of dull scissors and showed me how to cut out characters and stage a scene, or to cut out clothing and fit it on these characters. I wou...ld occupy myself for hours with these catalogues. One day as my mother was ironing and I was sitting on the couch with my catalogues, I got myself into an unpleasant situation. Up until this day, my uncles used to tease me about a young lad who hung around our house. He was fifteen, I believe, and a very ugly and clumsy youth. He would ask mom if there was anything he could do to earn a bit of pay and was the same youth who ate our chocolate bars as mentioned in another story. The truth is, I was always glad to see him leave as I thought he was a pest, but my uncles kept telling me I would probably end up marrying him. I did not believe this for a minute, but that day as I sat on the couch working on my catalogues, Mom asked me what I wanted to do when ‘I got big’. Several things went through my mind, but then I said, as I pointed out several dresses to her, I’m going to buy you all these dresses! And how will you afford to do that? Well, Buddy will be working, won’t he? I really said it just to be funny, but Mom laughed hysterically. I tried to tell her that I was just being funny, but she didn’t believe me. When my uncles came in (or practically anyone else), she would repeat that story and everyone would get a great laugh from it. It stuck with me all my life and Mom never did believe I was joking about it. I learned to be careful what I said, joking or not. See more

Hubby set out for church this afternoon a little earlier than when I am with him. I don’t get out after the snow comes as I am fearful of falling. My balance is very poor and I need support but worse still, even with help, my knees are weak and often buckle letting me down. This happens especially if I am tired or my sugar is low. When I go with him I always aggravate him by asking, Do you have the key? Of course I have the key! It’s on the car key... ring. Also, when I am with him, he takes my PT Cruiser. But when he goes alone, he takes the Chrysler (which I have trouble getting into). Today, he took the Chrysler, so I just assumed he had the keys. Shortly after he left, I fell asleep again and was suddenly awakened when the front door opened about twenty-five minutes later. He had driven to the Minto Church without the key to open the church door. He grabbed it from the key holder beside the door and quickly exited again. After church I asked how he made out getting back there on time as it is ten miles or so away, with several areas where he had to slow down but he made it. He related the following: I told the church what happened. I said, I’m glad I got here on time. I forgot the keys today and had to go back for them. I prayed the cops wouldn’t be around. I even prayed they would be at Tim Hortons and someone would buy them some coffee and keep them busy there until I got safely back. Then I added, ‘Chrysler, do your duty’ so I arrived back in plenty of time for church I’m sure he broke the law at times but he did not actually tell me that. I just know how both of us drive to make up lost time (and sometimes that isn’t even necessary). I do know the Lord must have understood as he didn’t get caught, and I don’t think the cops were around today. What do you folks think? See more

I haven’t been on here for awhile but decided to post again today. I’ve been having migraines and putting writing aside for awhile. Another reason Is because my memory is beginning to slip. However, I still find some things are funny in life and my husband does some weird things, so I can write about him and it’s more up to date . My husband has done all the grocery shopping for the past seven years since I’ve been unable to get about. He does a great job and ...gets lots of things we really could do without...but I diverse. Many things have changed under Covid 19 restrictions, so he always wears his mask and attempts to follow all the guidelines. Recently, he went to the Superstore for the weekly grocery order. Once in the store, he set off down an aisle, following the direction of the marked arrows and picking up items as he went. Naturally, he got lost in his shopping and also lost his way. He had somehow managed to go in the wrong direction and was walking against the forward arrows. In doing so he ended up running into a lady and her shopping cart. He was quick with a response to the situation. Lady, would you please watch where I am walking! Fortunately for him, she found this as funny as he did, so they both ended up having a good laugh. He always seems to be able to take the sting out of a situation and he has a great sense of humour. That’s another reason I love this crazy man. See more

A lot of things have happened over the years which I fail to remember, but there are other occasions that are imprinted on my mind. They were mostly moments or situations that embarrassed me and one of those moments occurred when I was not quite five years old. Our pastor’s wife was my Sunday School teacher and each Sunday she would take us younger kids to the parsonage to teach us a Sunday School lesson. Milford and Marguerite Stairs were our pastors and around ...Christmas time, Marguerite would have us gather around the piano in the parsonage and learn some choruses in preparation for a Christmas program. As it turned out, she chose me to sing a chorus by myself, so I had to practise it when we got back to the church. The Saturday before the Christmas program we all met at the church with a number of teachers present and went through a preview of our numbers. The adults encouraged us to stay calm and not fear a large group of folks in the audience. Up to that point, I had no fear of the audience, but once they brought it up, I began to get nervous. Was there some reason why I should be afraid of a large group of people? When my name was called I walked bravely onto the platform and as the music began, I sang, ‘I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart, Down in my heart to stay. The adults gathered out to our rehearsal began to laugh and I immediately realized I had started out on the last line. I should have repeated the lines, ‘Down in my heart, down in my heart’ and then sung that last line, but instead of trying to correct it, I wanted to rush off the platform while they were laughing. I was so embarrassed, but my wonderful Sunday School teacher hushed them up and encouraged me to go up and sing again. Of course, I went up and sang it properly. On Sunday at the concert, I was able to do it correctly again. But I never did forget one of the first most embarrassing moments of my life. See more

In 1974, our District Church Board decided to send us to Newfoundland on an evangelistic mission. Hubby had been in the ministry just about three years, so we took turns preaching. Things were going well except for the weather. It was mid-July when we arrived but there were big icebergs still out in the Bay and we wore our heaviest outer ware. Our youngest son wore his fur coat practically every day. This was not so unusual though, as he wore that fur coat th...e year around. I not sure why but we couldn’t seem to get him out of it, even on hot days. The rest of us wished that we had brought some warmer clothes. We started out in Woodstock, where we would sing a special or two, then get down to preaching. One night as we were singing, accompanied by my piano accordion playing, I got the surprise of my life. There was no railing around the edge of the platform and we were singing gung-ho, when, in my enthusiasm, I stepped too close to the edge and over I went, accordion and all, on the floor. I bumped my head and hurt my left arm. Someone came with my Hubby to help me up and check on me, then announced to the congregation: She’s fine. She ‘urt ‘er harm and ‘er helbow, but ‘er ‘ead’s okay...just a bruise or two. We still laugh about the incident but I especially like the lingo of those Newfoundlanders. There were times when I didn’t know a word they said amongst themselves, but could interpret most of what they said to me. I love those Newfies! See more

When I was a teenager living with my parents, Mom would have me make a pie occasionally. I can’t say they were a great success, but they were edible. As I moved to my own mobile home, many of my friends would drop in for tea and a visit or a gab session. I thoroughly enjoyed my company. Shortly after one of my friends moved to Connecticut, I went to visit her. Her foster parents, Ruth and George Corney, were great friends of mine and had me stay with them a fe...w days. While there, Ruth asked me to make an Apple pie. I happened to turn out a great crust and proceeded to make my own version of an Apple pie. I made a butterscotch sauce to dribble over the apples before putting on the top crust. I must say, the pie was delicious. Even the crust was the best I had ever made. The Corneys loved it and proclaimed it the best Apple pie they had ever eaten. Well, when I got back to my home, I decided I would make a few pies, so one afternoon, I proceeded to bake two pies. I believe one was Apple, and another, a lemon. I prepared my dough and tried doubling it for both pies. I then made the filling for the lemon pie and got the apples ready for the next one. I placed them in the oven and as soon as the oven bell went off, I quickly removed them. They smelled wonderful as I set them out to cool. Later that evening, two of my friends came visiting. We talked for some time, then I heated up the teapot and got out three of my China cups. As I poured the tea, I asked the girls if they would like some pie with it. Of course, they were ready for pie. I was busy finishing up a bit of sewing, so I decided to carry on with that while they ate and we talked. As we were talking and I was also sewing a bit, I paid little attention to the girls until I looked up from my project and saw them smiling widely at each other. Then I noticed their shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.As I took a minute to wonder why, they both burst out into guffaws. What were they laughing at? Finally one of them said, Oh, Joyce, did you try this pie? Bewildered, I shook my head, ‘No’. Between hoots of laughter, they managed to explain. Well, the fillings are lovely, but that’s all we can eat. We can’t bite through the pie crust...it’s hard as rocks. And laughter took over again. I put my sewing aside and got a piece of pie to go with my tea. True to their word, I couldn’t cut the pie with my fork. We all ended up scraping off the fillings and consuming that, then throwing the pie crusts in the garbage can. To this day, I’m not positive about what went wrong when I doubled the pie crust recipe, but it sure didn’t work! Then and there, I decided that just because I once was told my pie was the best ever, there were times when I could flop at pie making! And this was one of those flops! See more

Ah! The bird was a beautiful golden brown and the aroma that filled the kitchen was overpowering. Saliva glands were hard at work pumping out their juices in anticipation and this was going to be one unforgettable Thanksgiving...for the food, if nothing else. The kids kept dashing in and out underfoot. Hey, Mom! I’m starved! Isn’t dinner ready yet? It will be. Just go play for a few more minutes and I’ll call you when it’s ready. ...Continue reading

Now don’t you girls get lost! Russell’s famous last words to his departing wife and her friend. He puts out a restraining hand to get in a few last instructions and continues. Once you get to the city, You cross the bridge and...I’m not sure what the name of the street is, but you take the... Oh! Let’s go! Don’t let him confuse you. I can always find my way around. I just keep in mind the magnetic poles and lay out the general street dir...Continue reading

This is one of those posts which is not particularly funny but has some funny high points. When my mother got older, it was obvious to all of us that she needed someone with her but she insisted on staying by herself in her own home. It was obvious to all of us that she needed assistance, but she resisted our attempts to help get her a caregiver. Since we lived 100 km. away, it was impossible to do much for her or even visit frequently, but I decided I would visit her one S...Continue reading

Yesterday I mentioned that we spent some time in Vermont helping my brother-in-law at his church. While there, we met some lovely people and many of them were farmers from around the hills of the State. There was one lady, in particular, whom I shall never forget. Her name was Peggy. Peggy was a new Christian and was excited about the Lord. She wanted to please her husband, who worked away a lot, so she did everything she could which she thought might make him h...appy.. One day, her husband brought home a cute little pink piggy. Peggy had to show that pig off to everyone. She hadn’t had any dealings with farm animals but she went out of her way to care for that pig. One day Peggy decided to really fix up that cute little piggy! She would surprise her husband when he came home. She brought the pig inside and gave it a good bath, powered and perfumed the pig, put some red ribbons on its ears, and oh, how she admired that pig! After he spent awhile indoors she decided to put it out in its pen until her husband came home. She was so excited she could scarcely wait for hubby’s arrival. When he came through the door, she grabbed him by the arm and turned him about. Come with me, she said. I have a surprise for you! She marched him off in the direction of the pigpen. To her surprise. Piggy was not in the pen. She could hear him snorting and enjoying himself so they stepped around to the side. There was piggy rolling in the muck and rooting up a storm. One bow was gone and the other was covered in mud but he was totally happy just being a pig. His pretty little scrubbed body was now nothing but dirt. Peggy took one look and burst into tears. Oh, No! I wanted you to see him! He was all clean and pretty. Now look at him! Why did he do that when I had him all prettied up? He was so cute! And now look at him! Peggy sobbed her way back to the house as her husband explained that a pig will always be a pig. It’s their nature to root and roll around in the muck and mud. I think Peggy learned a valuable lesson that day. We are all what God made us to be and there is only one way to change and that’s to let God start on the inside first. Once he cleans up the heart, the outside changes to please Him. Even our attitudes, speech and reactions will change when our heart is clean. But there’s no changing a pig! See more

As I was on my way out of the church a lady passed me an invitation. She made it quite clear to all of us that she wanted no one to ‘spill the beans’. This was to be a dinner in honour of her sister. In my opinion, the lady being honoured really deserved it. Her five-year-old son had come home from kindergarten with some disturbing symptoms. She visited the pastor with the news of what was happening and informed us that she had already made an appointment with his ...Continue reading

When we were young and foolish, we went where our hearts led us and that meant we sometimes ended up in strange places. One summer we took our travel trailer and both sons and headed out for Vermont. Hubby’s brother was pastoring there and we felt we might be able to help. The State of Vermont is a beautiful State with the blue-green of it’s mountain range surrounding it and the sweeping old farms roaming up and down the hillsides. Picturesque and colourful, it i...Continue reading

I already had this printed and went to hit publish, struck the wrong thing in my blindness and deleted the whole story. This is one which someone requested. I had put it on before but did it only from memory so probably left some things out, so will go back to the book and do the original version. I was a young school ma’am, fresh out of the classroom on a first summer vacation. July and August were spent upgrading my credentials and when the six training weeks w...Continue reading

As you can see, I have put a few oldies on here today. I remember Grandpa and Grandma MacBeth and Aunt Hilda very well. Of course I knew Uncle George well too as we grew up together since my mother raised her younger brothers for several years. He was more like my brother than my uncle. I did not know my maternal greatgrandparents although I do recall that great grandfather Gil spent his later years in Ripples. He lived alone in a little place he built just below... the Old Landing. I think he lived his last few years as a recluse. My dad used to visit him from time to time but he said he was offered tea by the old man. Of course, he felt he couldn’t refuse but he dreaded it as it was always in a dirty cup. I don’t know if the old guy was blind or just plain dirty but he looked okay when he put in a rare appearance. I think he may have just neglected to wash his dishes. Dad always felt sorry for him as he was such a loner and no one ever went near him. My mom never even got to know him, though he was her grandfather. There is a story somewhere in this, but they’re all gone now and I doubt anyone knows the full background story. See more

My Uncle George McAllister with his first car and his cousin, Ralph Post.

My maternal great grandfather and great grandmother Gilbert and Amanda Jordan with my young grandfather, Wilfred in the middle.

My paternal grandfather, Melvin MacBeth, In his later years

I have been doing some research on my forebears and thought I would show off some pics. This is my paternal grandmother Lillian MacDonald in the middle and my grandfather, Melvin MacBeth Sr. on the right. In the white dress is her twin sister, Hilda. They were both midwives.

It was a beautiful spring day and I was finding my way around an unfamiliar city. It so happened that I had an accomplice who was helping with the driving but I was doing the navigating. Anyway, the State was familiar territory so it was not difficult to spot the church we were trying to find. Suddenly, it loomed before us and we made out grand entrance. As these things go, the Secretary for the Ladies Auxiliary of the State was registering at the same time we we...Continue reading

When I was just a kid my grandmother had what I thought was a gorgeous purple dress. It shimmered and glimmered with sequins and rhinestones and my eyes popped with wonder every time I saw her with it on. SOMEDAY I would have a dress like that! When my second son was born, he was intrigued with the colour purple. Mom, how come you don’t get a dress like that? he would ask as some older lady wandered by wearing purple. It was the era of polyest...ers and there were some pretty polyesters around, but everytime I saw a purple one I was reminded of my grandmother. Finally, after much pressuring from my son, I explained to him that the polyester ‘in crowd’ were all wearing bright colours, bold and beautiful with vibrant multi-coloured flowers. I further explained, If you would look closely you will probably notice that those who are wearing purple are usually older women. It’s not really very popular with the younger ladies. But Mom, I like it and I’m just a kid! I bought him a purple shirt and hoped he would forget about a purple dress for me. My mother-in-law came to visit and with her came three or four purple outfits. I groaned. It only reinforced my theory. Everywhere I went, the older ladies were wearing purple. It almost appeared to be a custom. Two years ago, just before Christmas as I was discussing something with my youth class, somehow the subject of purple came up. How come you never wear purple? Purple is for old people, I said quickly and hurried on. I noticed the sly glances and semi-smiles as I said it but chose to ignore them. About two weeks later, my husband took me shopping for an outfit for Christmas. We went to a specialty shop for ladies and as I was browsing about, he called me over. He was holding out two outfits. Here, Hon. Try these. Don’t you think they’re pretty? But...but...purple makes me look so sickly yellow - so sallow. I’ve never been able to wear it! Try it on,. He held it up to my chin. I don’t think you look so bad in it! I like purple. Needless to say, I ended up in that Sunday School classroom in the midst of a bunch of smugly, smiling youth with a purple outfit on shortly after Christmas. I heard a muttered comment as I went by. Purple is for old people. You know, I have developed quite a fondness for the colour. I wonder if that means anything? Well, I do know I’m not getting any younger! See more

There’s nothing like a brand new offspring to give one an excuse for having a nice new chair. The Christmas our first child was 6 months old, I decided his father would get a grand new Christmas gift - not that he hinted at it or anything - but he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from those big, old Lazy Boys with all the great features to relax tired dads. Anyway! As the season got into full swing, I stopped by Sears one afternoon on my way home from school an...Continue reading

While travelling this summer we stopped at a very nice restaurant where we have made it a point to stop when in the vicinity. The food is very good and apparently the place is known far and wide as it was packed. A long line stretched through the foyer and even outdoors. We struck up a conversation with some strangers. Is this place always so crowded? the lady in front of me asked as her youngsters dashed in and out underfoot. Just about anytime we’v...Continue reading

There’s something about hats. I was born with an inate desire to wear a hat. I’ve always loved them! From the time I was just a youngster, I decided I would have a fancy hat at the very first chance I got. It so happened that the wait was a very long one as we were in the post-war years and money was scarce for ‘extras’. By the time I was ten years of age, I delved into a little side business. Hey, Mom, did you see this? See what? ...Continue reading

Although stylewise, I have always tried to venture where no one else has trod, I never have been very experimental in my food tastes. When I find a food I really like, I am prone to serve it repeatedly. Furthermore I never go in for those exotic dishes my friends rave about and neither am I a ‘foreign’ food fanatic. When it comes to food, about the only country I would fit in besides my own native land, would be Italy. I must say, I find their food tastes similar to my o...Continue reading

I made a conscious decision this morning. It was a painful but necessary one. I have kept a number of things hidden from my husband for several years now, primarily in this, my writing room. He knows I am hiding something but has not pressured me to uncover my cache. I should have realized it was something that would catch up with me sooner or later. I was not ignorant of that fact, having been warned repeatedly about it. But somehow, I guess I thought life would jus...t continue to roll along in spite of it. Anyway, the rude awakening finally came. It is time to clean out my office. As I prepare to dispense of my precious merchandise, in a last gesture of savouring the occasion, I gaze longingly at the long, thin boxes, admiring what I know they contain, then finally pick them up and drop them in the bag with the rest. At the last minute I release the packets I have been clutching from the beginning and they, too, hit the bottom of the bag with a dull thud. The very last thing to go - wait - it doesn’t really go. Instead, I find another place and put it away ‘just in case’ of an emergency. I am really relinquishing it, however, as I know I will never remember where I have put it when the emergency finally arises. I gather up my precious cargo and carry it upstairs. There I put things down on my husband’s side of the dressing table, turn my back and walk away, heading back down to my crowded office, something I never thought I could have done. It was a decidedly difficult task. My husband is presently out of the neighbourhood. He will return sometime today. I am not sure what his response is going to be - surprise - disgust - happiness? After all, the result of this is that he is gaining my little stockpile of goodies...the source of my addiction. The chocolates, the peanut butter cups, the gumdrops, the carmel-centred toffees, the chocolate almonds, the turtles and four boxes of chocolate-covered thin mints, (practically my entire stockpile) are being dispossessed. It is not a matter of choice, but rather, a matter of necessity. With a non-functioning pancreas! And no insulin to take care of breaking down the sugars I have always consumed by the pound, my system itself is breaking down! It is a simple matter of deciding whether the sweets go, or I go. For now, I decide to favour my poor, overweight husband with my cache of goodies. He can resist them much more easily than I. He’ll love it! But alas! My secret is out! See more

My Dad loved to hunt. It was a big occasion for him to get ready for duck hunting season. Days before the season opened, Dad would begin to accumulate gear. He got out his hip waders for wading out on the meadows, his orange vest and headgear - an orange reversible cap, warm woolen socks, along with great quantities of bird shot and a variety of guns (from which he could choose for a particular day) were laid out, ready at a moment’s notice. He cleaned and polished his g...Continue reading

Many of you may not recognize the names in the following poem but I have recorded it so that the Doaktown folks will remember the trip our church ladies took about 35 years ago. We had a blast and it would be nice to repeat it. But alas! Those days are gone. BANGOR TRIP The day the Doaktown ladies set out for Bangor Maine The fog was thick as pudding and the clouds were pouring rain, But with our determination, nothing could make us sta...Continue reading

I was suddenly enlightened by the most startling fact this afternoon - I realized I really do belong to that group looked upon as being ‘elderly’. Quite truthfully, if I had been observing my behaviour from the rank and file of the ‘younger set’, I would have commented, There goes one of those old people, gumming it again. The object of my enlightenment was a large, crusty ‘heel’ slice of bread. As I endeavoured to demolish it with my few remaining grinders, I ...Continue reading