The yellow painted home is clearly a heritage property. The first clues are the storm windows. Storms like the ones on this home are no longer available. Note how the right front storm is clearly hinged and has been left open at the bottom. This wood sided home is reputed to be one of the oldest homes in Stratford, Ontario.
It is a vegetarian sandwich. Two thick slices of freshly baked bread stuffed with sauteed spinach, grilled bell peppers, mushrooms and onion, punched up with a little pesto mixed with soft goat cheese and served with a fresh mixed salad on the side.
Holy Roller was made in 1942 in Michigan and immediately
the Sherman tank was shipped to England to fight in the Second World War. It was officially issued to Canada’s 6th Armoured Regiment (1st
Hussars) shortly before D-Day. Its crew named it "Holy Roller."
On D-Day, the tank was part of the second wave on Juno Beach. The tank and crew were able to advance 11 kilometres before a fuel leak stopped it in its tracks. As the commanding officer’s tank had been destroyed by a landmine on the beach, Holy Roller became B Squadron’s command tank.
The 1st Hussars lost 346 tanks with Holy Roller the only survivor. It fought in 14 major battles and covered some 4,000 kilometres. It sustained some serious damage along the way with some crew members wounded, but no one died in Holy Roller.
At the end of the war, Holy Roller was stored in the London, Ontario, Armouries for a few years before being put on display in a nearby park. In 1956, it was moved to Victoria Park, where it sat until its removal for restoration. Time and weather take a toll on everything, even a tank. Yesterday, Holy Roller was returned to its concrete pad in London's Victoria Park downtown.
A local journalist and Mennonite pacifist has admitted seeing the presence of the tank in a city park as glorifying war. Today, he seems to have shifted his take on the tank. He wrote in the newspaper, "It forces us to contemplate and confront our failures of diplomacy, the use of destruction of life and property as the bluntest of our tools, and the utter depravity of war."
I do not see the present war in Ukraine as a failure of diplomacy. Words were never going to stop the Russians. The West should have sent troops to the Ukraine the moment Russian troops began amassing on the Russian side of the border.
We might have stopped the invasion before it started.
Holy Roller and the brave men who crewed it deserve our gratitude, our praise and the very least we can do is honour them and their actions by putting their Sherman tank on display and thinking long and hard about not what it symbolizes but about what it actually accomplished.
The Holy Roller fought against "the utter depravity of war."
Surviving the Siege of Kharkiv (The New York Times)
The photos that have defined the war in Ukraine (CNN)
For proof, one need look no farther than the artemisia schmidtiana or silver mound plant. It has the cannot-be-killed strength of the cockroach but in a far more attractive package. My oldest granddaughter picked a small silver mound as her addition to our gardens. She left the little plant in a small, blue plastic pot with me to plant. I didn't.
On a future visit, she said she would plant it if I just showed her where. I couldn't. She didn't. And, while I puzzled over where to put the little plant with the silver green foliage, the summer turned into fall, which in short order turned into winter. The little plant with the silver-green, almost sensually soft foliage turned black, harden and became brittle with death.
My granddaughter shook her head. "You killed it." I agreed and hung my head in shame. But then spring arrived and the warm sun and frequent spring rains performed their magic. New shoots appeared. The little, oh-so-delicate looking, little silver-green plant had survived the winter and did so while sitting outside, snow covered, forgotten, left to freeze in a little blue pot.
There are a number of explanations given for how London, Ontario, came to be known as the Forest City. One thing that all seem to agree on is that the city has lost the vast majority of the tree cover that gave the city its well known moniker.
I am not a hundred percent sure of the origins of the Forest City nickname and I am even less sure that the name no longer fits. Viewing the city from Lookout Court in the southwest end of town, the city seems to disappear under the thick foliage of city trees.
In this southwestern London neighbourhood the early bird gets the asparagus, at least in late spring. The small, totally open at the front, shed-like structure sits empty most of the year. But annually, in late May and and stretching into early June, a large "open" sign announces to the world that locally grown asparagus is again available.
The fields are small and located immediately behind the little wooden structure. The asparagus is good but there isn't a lot. It goes on sale daily at nine and it is gone by noon. The asparagus grown at Greenland is special. 95% of the asparagus sold in Ontario is one hybrid, a variety developed at the University of Guelph called Guelph Millennium.
Greenland asparagus is a heritage variety. Many believe it is sweeter than the asparagus sold at the local grocery stores. What no one can dispute is that it is fresher. Greenland asparagus is picked every morning and with luck it is sitting in a little water in one's fridge just an hour or two later. One never peels Greenland asparagus. It is tender. Guaranteed.
I have wondered how long until the asparagus fields are a feature from the past and suburban housing fills the former fields. According to the family that owns the little farm, it isn't going to happen any time soon. Wonderful!
