Order of Good Whisky

Samuel de Champlain settled at his Habitation just down the road from our home four hundred and sixteen years ago. To bolster the frigid spirits of these early European explorers during the long cold winters here, he created the celebrated "Order of Good Cheer". Food, wine, theatrics and parades were the backbone of this merry festivity.

Now had he been Scottish, instead of French, he might actually have created a feast with whisky and haggis, rather than wine, fish and fowl. Had he been a poet instead of an architect we might have had cause to celebrate his birthday. 

Now the Scots did come here. But they did not stay long, although their presence has given our Province it's name, albeit in Latin. 

Then, more than a hundred years later, we had a whisky loving Scot who wrote poetry and has become a Scottish icon. He never visited Nova Scotia that we know of. But his celebration on January 25 every year is very much in the genre of that "Order of Good Cheer". And being in January, it is a convenient excuse to chase away the winter blues.

Most years in post retirement, we have been in Cuba at this time. There, we do raise a glass to his memory; however, we have to admit it is not of whisky, but of rum. Burns would approve, for it is excellent Cuban rum. 

This year, however, like most sensible folk, we do not travel. So we have stayed home for a Nova Scotia winter and been able to do both Robbie Burns and Monsieur de Champlain proud with our festivities on January 25, 2021.

Adjusting to Winter

Normally at this time, we would be basking on a beach on the north shore of Cuba . But one has to adjust to new realities. And I think we have.

Travel does not appeal to us in these uncertain days. And I have to say, we are enjoying our first “winter” here in Nova Scotia. Seventeen degrees Celsius on Christmas day was not hard to take. It was the first time we have ventured out in our convertible with the roof down in late December. And wine on our riparian deck on New Year’s Day was a pleasure too.

Yes, we’ve had snow. But not much. Yes, it’s been grey and chilly. But not always and certainly not like the minus 30 Celsius we frequently experienced at our former home in Ontario. Minus 7 we can take, even minus 20 will seem like a salve.

It is now mid-January. Our lawn is green. Our decks are clear. The wood pile is disappearing very slowly. We’ve enjoyed several pleasant walks in parks and on trails or just around our little village here in Granville Ferry.

But, I can assure you, we are not lulled into a false expectation of an easy winter. Cold will come. Snow will come. But the daylight is already growing longer and stronger. Stew bubbles on the stove. The fire burns warmly in our livingroom. The house is snug. And the view is always engaging and often invigorating.

Despite Covid, I stand looking out at walkers-by as I practice the fiddle. John finds comfort in his little art studio nestled at the back of the house. The telephone rings: an invitation to a socially distanced dinner. A call from old and dear friends comes from Germany on WhatsApp, and from friends in Cuba who are missing us.  A letter arrives from England six weeks late. There are cocktails on Zoom with former colleagues. And regular emails from friends near and far reaching out to us and we to them on our computer monitors each morning.

We acknowledge our good fortune every day.