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Penetang Review, Penetanguishene, ON (2024)

07/20/2024

06/29/2024

👇🙌♥️💯🙏🔥👇

06/22/2024

06/08/2024

If you need to hear it, you need to hear it.

06/08/2024

Legit !

06/07/2024

06/07/2024

This should be the standard everywhere, at the very least.

06/07/2024

05/27/2024

Canadian soldiers play hockey near the front line, on the frozen Imjingang River, during the Korean War, during the freezing Winter of 1952.

05/27/2024

05/27/2024

'There is a village on the little island of Inishmaan, one of the Aran Islands, called 'The Moor,' and, because of its (comparatively) greater size, it is regarded by the islanders as most up-to-date and consequently as the capital.

Indeed, those who reside there declare that they are never without dried fish — a distinction of quite an important nature, for too often a lack of this necessary article of food makes itself felt in bad weather when no boat can venture out.

It is also the proudest boast of 'The Moor ' men that the tourist likes to linger there.

It is called 'Blaithcliath' (The Irish word for Dublin) to denote its importance, because a Dublin student once stayed there.

The peaceful serenity of this old-world village was unexpectedly disturbed one mellow afternoon in the autumn of 1914 when our gramophone arrived.

It had been noticed that a box had been deposited with unusual care on the slip, so well secured that the boatmen who surveyed it exchanged glances, wondering what it could contain. I sometimes visit this landing-place, particularly on fine days, when there is a groundswell, to watch the difficulty experienced by the men in landing.

On this particular occasion they called me forward, and I at once assumed wondrous importance as the person to whom this unusual package was addressed. As soon as it was announced that the box contained a gramophone the scene became one of excitement and wonder.

The news spread like a prairie fire.

A crowd gathered round peeping over each other's shoulders to see what was going on, and by the time the contents were unpacked fully a hundred people were squatting round, sitting on the bare ground, to witness the opening ceremony.

The parts were carefully examined to see if we could arrange to piece them together. But, alas! we had no knowledge of the mechanism, nor was there any tradesman in the place who was any wiser.

However, fortunately for us, there was. a young graduate from Oxford visiting the islands, and he quickly consented to see what he could do. Eventually he succeeded, and suddenly the music started.

The expression on the faces of the onlookers was indeed a sight to remember —the children in raptures, the old women enchanted, the men hardly believing their ears, and for a few minutes all other thoughts were laid aside. The question no one could answer was, where were the men and women hiding whose voices sounded so sweetly?

They could not be seen. One woman suggested the spirits of the Firbolgs — Pagan ancestors — which tradition associates with the Danish forts to be found in Inishmaan.

In the rush and general bustle going on, the men forgot to prepare the nets, and all work was temporarily suspended. They continued exclaiming in Gaelic that "somewhere there must be a person or there could not be a voice," and the effect produced on them was really wonderful.'

Nurse Bridget Hedderman's 1917 account of an exciting afternoon on Inishmaan, an island where she worked as a nurse for almost two decades, Picture of some girls from Inishmaan, courtesy NLI.