All the following scenarios are real, they happened to me, just all names have been changed.

 Scenario 1:

Envision the little elementary school in R. not far from where I live. Mostly white kids, a few Asian and about 12 Native students; Some Mohawk, some Ojibwa, some from other tribes, who’s parents moved here....

The subject of the day was family - and so all the kids in grade 1 were asked to tell how many siblings they have - counting them, you know....

All goes well, until it is little Charley BlackOtter’ turn to speak.

“15”! he announces.

“WHAT???” the teacher wonders - “No, Charley, are you sure?

” Yes!” The teacher is perplexed and decides to let it go for now. She knows, that Charley's mom has him and 3 other kids at home.

. Now the teacher is really perplexed. To make matters worse, Charley gets teased during recess. To make THAT matter worse, an older Native boy rises to the occasion of protector and brings all his followers. They whack the white kids with their tennis shoes because they made fun of Charley and his mom and SHE is a BLackOtter!!!

The teaches break up the fight and discuss with Charley the consequences of telling tall stories that are not quite true. Little Charley , now in the principal’s office, hangs his head and confesses, yes, he was wrong, he has 17 brothers and sisters, not 15 and he is sorry he had miscounted.

The school staff discusses the matter further. The teacher does have to call Charley’s mom anyway and asks her again about, how many kids she has. “What business is it of yours” is the answer. the teacher explains: Mom BlackOtter replies: If Charley says he has 17 brothers and sisters, than that must be true!” NOW the principal is perplexed. But she also knows; it has something to do with being Native. Just what exactly...???

Maybe the kids of his 2 aunties count as siblings????

She also checks her records and finds out, Ms BlackOtter is in her late twenties and lives in a “common law partnership”

She also knows - from the local gossip, that Charley’s grandma is a “special” person. Not that she always was - Thelma R. in her days was known to be a famous drunk and “loose” and none of her 6 kids are from the same father, ifff indeed a father was known at all. Thelma was at one time a reasonably good student in the church run residential school over near P. but then had “turned sour” = gotten pregnant, claimed the priest to be the father (Oh what a nasty accusation that was back in the days...) The child was taken away from her after his birth abd given for adoption by the Church and Thelma had “married the bottle” and was known as a lay down drunk” up into her mid 40 ties... But then somehow she had managed to sober up, collect all her various kids around her and had moved back out to the land. = a small parcel of land that due to some treaty was her family's...

Now thelma was some sort of a matriarch and not good to eat Cherries with. She had taken up the “Old religion “ and now was considered an Elder and highly respected by her folks.

the principal was not inclined to tackle Thelma or anyone of her daughters. But still... she would love to find out, what was behind the 17 brothers and sisters, that Charley claimed to have.

Hmmm..... Maybe she should phone that Medicine woman- lady who comes to the school and teaches about Native customs.

So my phone rings.

Well, Lets see, if we can shed some light into Charley’s family relations:

1) Charley’s mom was married for a brief time to an Ojibwa guy from Ignace, further west, they had the oldest, now in G. high school and soon to graduate from there. That marriage broke up when the man moved out to Alberta and lives together with a lovely Cree lady and has 2 kids with her - and the one she adopted from her sister that had a few too many and so - in Alberta Charley has 3 siblings....because in Ojibwa culture, your brother’s brothers and sisters are your brothers and sisters....

2) Then there is little Hannah and her dad, who did not stay long either, but he now lives out on the reservation, and has 3 more kids -all waaaay older than Hannah but - Charley’s siblings.

3)Then Charley’s dad, who lives out in P. with another lady. He has 3 kids with her, but she has 2 from a previous marriage = +5 siblings for Charley

4)Then there is Henry, the guy that is now Ms BlackOtter’s common law husband and with whom she has little Ella and baby Henry the 2nd.

Henry is a nice guy, but he has an ex- wife on Curve Lake with 2 kids and then there was this crazy girlfriend before Charley’s mom and there also was a little baby.... now being raised by Henry’s mother in Curve Lake.... that then would be Charlie’s sister Marjory....

Soooo: Do I know all these people ?

No. I know Elder Thelma S. and 2 of her daughters from the Pow Wow in T. last year. But I know, how Ojibwa society works and how people view relations.

And I can explain it to the principal in the school. - Now, were we to add all the kids from Charley’s Aunties and Uncles, we would be in the 60 kids range - easy.

But Charley is smart. He knows already, that white people do not count these brothers and sisters....:)

Good for him!

Crazzzzzzzy Coon!

Since about a year now, I have a new vice: A cup of coffee in the afternoon!

Not just any coffee, my own special mix: a spoon full of TC French Vanilla coffee, a spoon of sugar, s swig of natural vanilla extract (happy juice”), half the mug filled with boiling water, the rest milk or 10% cream -.... mmmmmmhhh!

Delicious!

After that treat I have new élan and the rest of the day is fun!

and so it was yesterday, that at 3.00 in the afternoon I left alruna’s Greenwood pouch behind, brewed my special mix and with it and my new edition of Sage Woman slipped out onto the upper deck for a little r+r.

But It was not meant to be.:(

After barely 3 sips the phone rang and one of my clients, distressed and with hoarse screeches in her voice demanded my full attention for at least an hour......

Well, where was my coffee I thought having in mind, to re-heat the treat and...

No, there was the phone again1 My friend J form england. I was delighted to hear hew voice and we chatted for - - at least another hour....

Then..... My husband, currently in Europe rang and we delved into a serious

palaver about his aging parents in their long term care facility.....

After that, dare I say, it was well into evening, dinner time and a little visit to AT....

Suffice to say, I was getting late and then, just past 10.00pm,

there was a loud ruckus outside on our decK! Our Raccoons had arrived. For the amount of noise I expected to see al 8 of them and was quite surprised, to see only the little male, one of “Finger-Eater’s” kids from last season. He is quite tame and so I was not too surprised, when he jumped up on my leg in greeting!

And Whoa!! He jumped again!! and again!!!! with all 4 feet into the air at once!

“What’s up, buddy?”

He just ate one or two of the cat-kibbles offered and proceded to jump around on the deck, keckering and squealing!

Then he “upped the antis” and jumped up onto the railing and ran like crazy from one side of the other on top of this precarious balancing beam. “Wishe’e!!, what is up with you?” He now proceded to jump clear into the thin night air just to land again on his 4 feet on the railing....

and again....

and again.....

And a.... plompffff!

Having missed the 1inch plank, he sank out of sight like a stone.

I got the flashlight. He lay below amongst the sleeping Dandelions, motionless.

I raced downstairs to his side. Gently touched his prone body....

JUMP!!

He sprang back to life like a “Jack in the Box,” raced across the clearing to the nearest tree, up the trunk keckering like a wild witch! :bugeyed:

He jumped along one of the almost horizontal branches and then across to the next tree and out of sight... Still keckering madly....

“Oh NOOOOO! I thought! Is he gone mad??? Rabies??? What can I dooooo?”

I went back upstairs and onto the deck to see iffff maybe there was some blood or something giving me a clue....

OH YES!!!!

There was!!!

My empty coffee mug, spilled on the table, carefully licked clean by an eager little pink tongue!

Coffee-Crazed Coon Alarm!

I was on the Baysville walkabout - Street-fair and rummage sale.

You eat cow! I KNOW!

I lifted the hide up to check the condition. looked good! nice and soft and clean. 

"How much?" I asked. "$ 20.00 was the answer.

"Or - I trade you for a $ 20.00 pair of earrings, Mi-Shell....!!

"Deal!" I put the talking hide onto my pile of goodies and kept looking.....  

The hide had to wait her turn - until a rainy October afternoon until I got around to making something out of it. And then the problem was, she did not want me to cut her into smaller pieces of waist anything of her at all... Just to cut and shape the handle was a loooooong negotiation.....

Cows seem to have their own mind about things and are not taking NO for an answer.

Now however I am done.

I fulfilled my bargain and put 14 hours of labour into it!

I smudged it on October Full Moon in honor of the Goddess!

Now the pouch can talk to you!

Have fun!

Mi-Shell

..... Evenings however are more my "thing"!

On Tuesday evenings in the summer our drum circle gathers in the gazebo in the park in downtown. I usually sit in the North, a habit of mine....

I have a clear view of the park, the adjacent side road and the houses and gardens beyond.

For the last few evenings I had noticed, that we have not only the rather ordinary large black Squirrels here in town, we also have at least two, who have quite a few white blotches in their otherwise black fur. It is fun to drum and at the same time watch them racing up the trees and across the hydro lines...:)

So I was somewhat used to seeing little black and white critters hopping across the gras.

But wait a minute!

This little one there - - that was not one of the Squirrels!

That was a baby Skunk!

With much determination the tiny fellow made its way across the green expanse, through the flower beds of the war memorial and towards the busy main road.

Forget drumming, I was going to prevent the little Zhigaag wag (Ojibwa) getting hurt - or run over.

So I ran at an angle across the grass to intercept him. He was not impressed or in any way afraid when I blocked his way.

He stubbornly again and again tried to walk around me towards Main Street!

I was rapidly running out of room, just a few steps to the sidewalk. People started to stop and cars honked their horn. My drum circle friends were laughing, making jokes and having a lot of fun.

Little Zhigaag wag was NOT having fun at all and pressed on. I did not want to get "perfumed" and so did not grab the little tyke; I would have loved to just "sack him and take him to my wooded home far far away from any cars...

But I had nothing to put him into for transport and I just could not afford to smell like Pepe Le' Pew's lover next morning on the Farmer's Market....

So I grabbed an old newspaper out of the trash can and shoved him rather roughly around into the direction where he came from. He sort of got the idea and hesitantly started back across the lawn; me screeching and hollering and waving the newspaper less than a yard behind his plumed backside.

It was quite a show and we had quite an audience!

Finally at the other side of the park; then across the side street and into the first garden......

Somewhere here should be his mom and his siblings!

I hope he will be all right, living in downtown......

I hope he will be mindful of humans, dogs and cars....