Goodbye Antler River – Hello Minikin Ontario

Greetings dear reader. I hope you weren’t literally holding your breath in anticipation of my next blog entry. But perhaps with bated breath you now see that a new post has finally arrived.

Note that I didn’t write “baited breath”. I’m sure that everyone who reads my blog has breath that smells mighty alluring, but the correct phrase is bated breath. I think.

Sally, having swallowed cheese,

Directs down holes the scented breeze,

Enticing thus with baited breath

Nice mice to an untimely death.

-  Cruel Clever Cat by Geoffrey Taylor

By the way, this is the first post from our new headquarters in Minikin Ontario.

“Never heard of the damn place”, you say. Well, you’re not alone. This place is small —  it’s tiny, minuscule, microscopic, Lilliputian; I dare say it’s almost non-existent.

It's too small to be called a town or even a village. Hamlet sounds right. That word evokes an image of a small place just big enough to house a few hamsters.

Minikin is so small that the sign welcoming you here says “Thank you. Come again!” on its other side.

Minikin is so small that the largest industry is Johnny and Suzie’s lemonade stand. The main source for news and information here is… well, you’re reading it.

And it’s not easy to find. To paraphrase my brother’s directions for getting here: You head north off the main highway onto Concession 3B until you reach East Horse Manure Road. Head west on East Horse Manure Road until you reach the second cornfield. Turn right midway down the cornfield and go about nine rows down. Turn left and ramble through a couple of acres until you get to a farmhouse. Walk up to the farmhouse, knock on the door, and ask the occupant, “Where the hell is Minikin?”

My brother likes to exaggerate. You only have to go down about six corn rows.

Speaking of horse manure, there was an article in today's Antler River Free Press about the theft of a manure hose. This is a special hose that is used to spread liquid manure. It is reported that the stolen hose was "valued" at between $15,000 and $20,000!!! Now that's one expensive fluid crap conduit!

The best part of the Free Press article is this last line, "The was coupled together in 200-metre sections. The first was black and the rest were orange." 

Do not you just love when you see writing like that that's real good? The proofreaders and editors is doing good job. 

I'm not sure what difference it makes what color the hose was. Perhaps for identification? My guess is that the police would be better off using their noses rather than their eyes when trying to locate the pilfered putrid poop pumper.

But let's get back to Minikin. One nice thing about this hamlet is that it is located on the shores of Lake Huron. Although my wife and I don’t have a lake view, we do often have a nice panorama of our neighbor swilling beer while sitting in a lawn chair next to a pickup truck in his driveway. However if you press the right side of your face hard against our side window and look to the far left, you can get a small glimpse of some water.

And we have a beach! Personally, I'm a cold weather kind of guy. However, not every month can be a snow shoveling one, so I do have to spend some time each year sweating it out in the midday sun. Lured with the bate bait  enticement of the cool water, I do take frequent swims in the world's largest freshwater lake. 

I actually went for a dip in the lake this November. And that water was COLD — colder than a snow-shoveler's implement. Due to that feat of lunacy, I've quickly gained a reputation as the wild man of Minikin. Even a hamlet has to have at least one wild man.

Even so, I'm not crazy enough to steal a manure hose.