It's time to fill a bag - with brotherly love

There are some who say foodbanks are not the answer. We who operate the foodbanks tend to agree, for the most part. Handouts of the bare grocery essentials, every two weeks, will not lift a family out of poverty. But they might help someone to bridge the gap between pay cheques, while gas, food and housing prices soar astronomically for the first time in a generation.

Wages just aren’t keeping up. And in a small town, there are few jobs that actually pay a living wage. Everything else needs to be supplemented. That’s where the foodbank comes in. Many of our clientele pop in to pick up their box of groceries right after work. They are still in uniform or dressed for work. Some are in the trades, with unsteady paycheques. Most just don’t make enough.

I was surprised to learn that there is no regular government funding for foodbanks in Canada. There are partnerships, and our local foodbank is lucky to have formed one with our own municipality of North Grenville in the last budget cycle. Our foodbank will receive funding to cover approximately one of operating expenses ($25,000) from the town for each of the next four years. We have to depend on the community to help cover the other eleven months of the year.

We have many generous local businesses and individuals who make regular financial donations to the foodbank, through www.salvationist.ca  Others drop off cash at the Salvation Army thrift store on Rideau Street in Kemptville, where we are able to divert funds to the foodbank. If you have made a donation, let us know by emailing: kemptvillesalvationarmy@gmail.com. That way we can ensure that your donation goes where you want it to. That is also the email to use if you have free time this month to assist with the massive Fill-a-Bag campaign. We need drivers and helpers to drop off paper bags at local residences, pick up the filled bags, and sort the contents back at the foodbank.

Watch for your paper bag to arrive on Sunday, November 20^th. Take a look at the list printed on the side of the bag and consider making a donation to your local foodbank. Whether it’s dried or canned goods, bathroom supplies or pet food, the 100 families that we are currently serving in North Grenville will definitely appreciate it. We can even accept food that has gone past its ‘best before’ date in the last year, in most cases. Put your bag outside on the 27^th and our volunteers will swing by to pick it up.

Thank you for sharing with your neighbour, and putting a little love in the bag.

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Playing a part in Hollywood North

 On an English movie set you might hear, “lights, camera, action!” But I was recently on a totally French movie set and the direction was, “Moteur! Trois, deux, un, action!” It certainly tested my bilingual abilities (which are not great, with only highschool French), and I was very grateful for the translation skills of my co-actors.

I have been a background actor / extra on half a dozen productions in the Ottawa area. I got to be a dead body once. You can’t really see me in the finished movie as my scene is blurred and quite brief. We filmed the results of a car crash in a parking lot at Kemptville College in February 2015, when it was 30 below and windy. I had to keep my (dead) eyes open for as long as I could while the cameras rolled. I teared up and my fake blood kept melting and running into my mouth. It is not a good taste. Sort of like a mix between melted lipstick and olive oil. I did get to meet Oz Perkins, the director, however. He stuck his head in through the broken windshield and said, “they did tell you it was a horror movie, right??”

My other background roles have included churchgoer, nurse with clipboard, woman in crowd, salesclerk, and I can’t remember the last one. They have all been fun because you meet people, including the ‘big name’ stars sometimes, but they all have one thing in common: lots of waiting around.

This latest experience was a new one for me – I have been surrounded by Quebecois at a Bryan Adams concert in Montreal and know they like to have fun – but I have never worked with a bunch of strictly French-speaking people before. In between very serious scenes in a courtroom (I played a Supreme Court judge!) they were cracking jokes and goofing around. Something was lost in the translation and I am pretty sure I looked like an idiot because I was the only one who wasn’t laughing – until the laughter just became contagious and I was actually laughing at their laughing.

This time I was on camera, for several long scenes, but I had no lines (thank goodness – nothing to screw up). It was a challenge for sure – even the set notes and schedule were totally in French. I had to put one paragraph at a time into Google Translate just so I wouldn’t miss my cues.

If you are interested in getting yourself or your kids into background work, sign up with Smyth Casting or a local talent agency. They are always looking for new people!

 

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The chicks are calling

 The baby chicks in our basement are very interesting houseguests. They peep peep peep peacefully all day, an ongoing soundtrack for my workday. Sometimes my associates comment that they can hear something in the background in our Zoom meetings. Then I have to take my camera downstairs and show them what is making the noise. 

If you make a sudden move, the chickens emit a collective SQUAWK. I also find it very strange and somehow endearing, the way they all decide it’s time to go to sleep. Like immediately, all at once, without a discussion first. They just close their eyes and put their heads down where they are – in the wood shavings, in the feeding trough, under the heat lamp. 

They are going through a lot of water. We can only put small watering units in there, upturned mason jars dribbling into tiny lids that are too small for a chick to fall asleep and drown in. These water stations are up on bricks so that they don’t get the wood shavings all wet and cause the chicks to catch a chill and die. 

I see tiny feathers sprouting from their backs. They are losing their golden fluff and baby cuteness. My granddaughter holds a yellow chick in her hand and repeats, “awwwww….awwww…” over and over again. The Golden Retriever, intrigued by the sound and smell, tip toes down the basement stairs. He is normally scared out of the basement by a trio of hissing cats. It is their lair. Today he comes over and peeks his head into the circular pen of baby chickens. Then he sees the one the child is holding in her hands, and dives at it with a ‘snap’ of his jaws. She pulls the bird away from him, just in time. 

“Oh!” we say, in unison (including the bird). I collect the tiny creature, smooth its ruffled fluff and tuck it safely back under the heat lamp to gather its wits. The dog was quickly ushered back upstairs, where he will remain for the next few weeks until we move our slightly smelly houseguests out to the shed. 

I’m hoping they grow enough feathers to keep them warm for the nine weeks or so that they will be in the barn. They will be under heat lamps, and big enough to cuddle together without smothering themselves. Still, we never know what kind of weather November will bring, and December can be brutally cold. A nice blanket of snow to insulate the barn from any chilling drafts would be perfect, if I could place an order. 

For now, I have to find a way to keep the chicken coop smell from rising up out of the basement and into the rest of the house. 

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