Thinking back on that house, I've left out a few details. It really was the perfect house for a family of four. All the kids would be playing street hockey or basketball, or building a tree house in the woods behind the houses. That tree house was a rickety death trap. A bunch of kids in the neighbourhood put it together with bent nails and ply-wood that we found from various family home renovations or just lying around by the bog. It had about four different levels, each with it's own difficulty to get to. Though, on the top level we had a clothesline that was attached on a very steep angle towards a fence post. We jammed a wooded stick between a bearing that fit between the two lines and you know what we did with this... hold on for dear life and let gravity do its work. Within 10-15 seconds any kid would reach light-speed and have to bail ship early so as to not wrap themselves around the fence post. Kids. Small towns. I'll never understand.
Sorry, I got side tracked. Let me take you on a little trip into my home.
Upon walking home from school or band practice you come over a hill that was a bend. Right on the corner was this big yellow two story house that always reminded me of the face of some Transformer (I think it was the triangle front balcony). It was a little darker than cream yellow, but not yet mustard yellow, with giant off shaped granite or brown stone all over the bottom half of the house. The driveway was always very black tar that my Father seemed to spread over it with a small paint roller three times a summer. There was never any need for that much, but he seemed to think so. Now, who cares, let him do what he wants to do! But this was a giant driveway that seemed to stretch the length of a football field up a small hill.
At the top of this hill there was a car nook made by one side of the house and an 8 foot picket fence that came out the same distance of the house. The big reddish-brown picket fence also enclosed the big back yard that the dog ran around in. There was a gate door that opened outward towards the driveway and towards the back of the yard there was the other little enclosed pen and dog house. The dog even had it's own little perch in there so it could be 3 feet taller to see over the yard. The back part of the yard was covered in alder bushes and trees. To the far corner was a barn like shed with the same yellow siding and across from that was a big brick-laid, outdoor fireplace/ barbecue with a chimney (cool!).
Okay, so to get into the house just on the backside of the fence was a dugout stair well that went into the basement. In the basement was just a coat-room, deep freeze, clothes line where wet clothes, hockey gear, coats, boots, shoes, skateboards, etc were all stored, along with this bizarre white cupboard with various non-perishable food items that had to have been there since move in date (there was a box of Tang).
Here is the gold: Walking through that empty gray-paint room lead you into what every man dreams of. A room filled with barn board, cork walls surrounding that as well. Some stucco walls on the top half of one wall, and brown barn board on the lower half of the long wall. On that south wall was a cast-iron pot-belly stove (not actually functioning) that was a show piece for my Grandfathers welding work of sluts, pots, and kettles. The walls were filled with old oil lamps, yellow square hanging lamps, bar pictures and advertisements. Many sailor references were hung on the wall as well. On the small east wall was an electric train-set placed on a big piece of ply-wood. Just north of that was a little washroom. The long side of the north wall stretched a boat. Well, it was a boat cut in half.
It was Lukey's boat. Lukey's boat was actually a full functioning bar. The hull of the ship was forest green and the bar counter was a slick, shiny black. There was a ledge on the outer side of the ship that held 100+ curling trophies (Did I mention my Father was a champion curler? It never hit me until years later how good he actually was). Behind the bar was about two inches raised with this red retro patterned carpet, black cabinets lined the bottom half of the back wall which were full of glasses: beer glasses, wine glasses, martini glasses, scotch/rock glasses, cigar cases, various liquor cases, flasks, silverware, and lots of various liquors new and old. Some that were probably as old, if not older than my Father. Above the cabinets was this little tiny window that looked out into the backyard. Next to the window was an old ships bell. Under the ships bell there were two five litre wooden casks full of beer given to my Father as a wedding gift from his Brother-in-law. They were full and I cannot recall the two different brands.
The boat was fitted with a deep three basin sink, held a M*A*S*H liquor dispenser in the style of an IV bag. There was a mini fridge, nut bowls, taxidermy, a small television. Timothy Taylor wouldn't know what to do with himself in this place. It was a bar decked out like a ship. My parents used to have their own boat and cruise the Exploits before I was born.
I used to spend all of my spare time in this bar. It was cozy, warm, and inviting. It was filled with history and that train-set. Little did I know how much I'd grow to love pub and bar settings. When I got older I placed my drum-set in the bar where the train-set once was. I recorded some of my first bands in that room.
The strange thing about this bar is that aside from the two casks there was never beer in the fridge until my Uncle came to visit from British Columbia.
Sorry, I got side tracked. Let me take you on a little trip into my home.
Upon walking home from school or band practice you come over a hill that was a bend. Right on the corner was this big yellow two story house that always reminded me of the face of some Transformer (I think it was the triangle front balcony). It was a little darker than cream yellow, but not yet mustard yellow, with giant off shaped granite or brown stone all over the bottom half of the house. The driveway was always very black tar that my Father seemed to spread over it with a small paint roller three times a summer. There was never any need for that much, but he seemed to think so. Now, who cares, let him do what he wants to do! But this was a giant driveway that seemed to stretch the length of a football field up a small hill.
At the top of this hill there was a car nook made by one side of the house and an 8 foot picket fence that came out the same distance of the house. The big reddish-brown picket fence also enclosed the big back yard that the dog ran around in. There was a gate door that opened outward towards the driveway and towards the back of the yard there was the other little enclosed pen and dog house. The dog even had it's own little perch in there so it could be 3 feet taller to see over the yard. The back part of the yard was covered in alder bushes and trees. To the far corner was a barn like shed with the same yellow siding and across from that was a big brick-laid, outdoor fireplace/ barbecue with a chimney (cool!).
Okay, so to get into the house just on the backside of the fence was a dugout stair well that went into the basement. In the basement was just a coat-room, deep freeze, clothes line where wet clothes, hockey gear, coats, boots, shoes, skateboards, etc were all stored, along with this bizarre white cupboard with various non-perishable food items that had to have been there since move in date (there was a box of Tang).
Here is the gold: Walking through that empty gray-paint room lead you into what every man dreams of. A room filled with barn board, cork walls surrounding that as well. Some stucco walls on the top half of one wall, and brown barn board on the lower half of the long wall. On that south wall was a cast-iron pot-belly stove (not actually functioning) that was a show piece for my Grandfathers welding work of sluts, pots, and kettles. The walls were filled with old oil lamps, yellow square hanging lamps, bar pictures and advertisements. Many sailor references were hung on the wall as well. On the small east wall was an electric train-set placed on a big piece of ply-wood. Just north of that was a little washroom. The long side of the north wall stretched a boat. Well, it was a boat cut in half.
It was Lukey's boat. Lukey's boat was actually a full functioning bar. The hull of the ship was forest green and the bar counter was a slick, shiny black. There was a ledge on the outer side of the ship that held 100+ curling trophies (Did I mention my Father was a champion curler? It never hit me until years later how good he actually was). Behind the bar was about two inches raised with this red retro patterned carpet, black cabinets lined the bottom half of the back wall which were full of glasses: beer glasses, wine glasses, martini glasses, scotch/rock glasses, cigar cases, various liquor cases, flasks, silverware, and lots of various liquors new and old. Some that were probably as old, if not older than my Father. Above the cabinets was this little tiny window that looked out into the backyard. Next to the window was an old ships bell. Under the ships bell there were two five litre wooden casks full of beer given to my Father as a wedding gift from his Brother-in-law. They were full and I cannot recall the two different brands.
The boat was fitted with a deep three basin sink, held a M*A*S*H liquor dispenser in the style of an IV bag. There was a mini fridge, nut bowls, taxidermy, a small television. Timothy Taylor wouldn't know what to do with himself in this place. It was a bar decked out like a ship. My parents used to have their own boat and cruise the Exploits before I was born.
I used to spend all of my spare time in this bar. It was cozy, warm, and inviting. It was filled with history and that train-set. Little did I know how much I'd grow to love pub and bar settings. When I got older I placed my drum-set in the bar where the train-set once was. I recorded some of my first bands in that room.
The strange thing about this bar is that aside from the two casks there was never beer in the fridge until my Uncle came to visit from British Columbia.
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