Various Veins
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If you noticed a golden spark drifting toward the east over Bayham on Saturday night, it wasn't a UFO. Well maybe it was to you, but it was a hot air paper balloon launched from the Ketchabaw farm on Sandytown Road. It announced the eve of the family reunion of the descendents of Frank Ketchabaw. The official date is second Sunday in July, wet or dry. This year it was moderately warm and dry.
The early arrivals set up campers and tents on Saturday and had a camp fire after sundown.
I must announce here that Frank's tribe increased by one baby girl, Emma Lynn, born July 8th about 1 a.m. to Julie and Ian Andrews in Windsor. She weighed 8 pounds 5 ounces, 21 inches long.
Emma Lynn is my great-granddaughter, grand-daughter of Michael Andrews. I apologize to the other lines of family. A long list of names can turn readers off.
Emma Lynn's little brother, at last report, was keeping his distance from her. She's oblivious to Lucas, sleeping for three hours, taking food and going back to sleep for another three hours.
In 1933 when the stork delivered my sister, Gretta, to our house it must have poked her with its bill. I heard her wails before I saw her. She continued to howl day and night for six weeks which left her mother exhausted. Can't recall that I suffered. Maybe my crib was in a room that muffled the sound.
Three branches of Frank's family were represented at the feast. There are six others scattered far and wide. My father-in-law had three wives and each bore one or more children.
My wife, Martha was the youngest of nine.
A couple of things happened to travellers during the week that puzzled, annoyed and irritated me. The first was at the airport in Toronto. A niece of Della Lorraine Howey was flying from Australia to attend the funeral. Someone was waiting for her flight to Toronto. The plane arrived without the niece. The staff would not tell which flight she was on. It's a matter of privacy. She did arrive and was present for the funeral.
The other instance involved a funeral as well. Ralph McQuiggan's step-son was on his way from the United States. He had taken American citizenship and had a temporary passport. The American security had no problem, but the Canadian security would not let him across the border. He missed the funeral.
Couldn't we have some compassion at such times?
As always, the pot luck food was varied and delicious. I hope everyone enjoyed the pecan butter tarts I bought on the way to the party.
One black dog watched me with pleading eyes as I devoured a hamburger. She didn't make any move to snatch it and run. Well mannered indeed.
I'm not sure if it was the same dog that had a brief set-to with a beautiful Akita. The snapping and snarling was cut short as owners got hold of leashes. No animals were injured, nor was there collateral damage.
I remember the first time I was invited to this family reunion. I was then escorting Martha for the day. Frank made a speech. The only part I remember in particular was that he would live long enough to see his immediate family reach 100 members. That picnic was at the Sand Hills on the Alton farm east of Port Burwell. Did he live to see that day? Can't answer that question.
I'm confident I saw that day many years ago.