A Bittersweet Stroll Down Holly Lane

In 9th grade my parents decided to separate me from my friends at school so I wouldn’t get into trouble. I had no idea what trouble they were talking about. I was a good girl, not that I wanted to be, but because my mother had such a tight leash on me I could seldom join my friends in the normal teenage activities they took for granted. So we moved from our boring bungalow two blocks from Orillia District College & Vocational Institute to our character waterfront home in the middle of nowhere. I partially maintained my sanity by reading a lot of books and spending hours and days and weeks and months and years in an imaginary world.

Orchard Point is situated on the Atherley Narrows at the place where Lake Simcoe and Lake Couchiching connect on the Trent-Severn canal system. The Narrows was formally recognized as the Mnjikaning (Huron) Fish Weirs National Historic Site of Canada in 1982. Traditionally, the area was a meeting place where Aboriginal Nations exchanged goods, drew up treaties and performed sacred ceremony.

The historic site of the fishing weirs was a very isolated place for a teenager like me. I had only one male friend to hang with. When I bored of boating and ice fishing, I would visit Mrs. Holly, an engaging elder role model who lived with her husband, Hubert, over on the other side of the point – a two-block walk. Hubert fancied himself a handyman comedian, and was always off doing odd jobs for the locals. Hence, I had a lot of alone time with Mrs. Holly.

Mrs. Holly was a tiny, well-dressed figure of the mother I have always wanted but have never had. She would entertain me with delicate pastel-coloured meringues heaped high on a cut glass plate lovingly placed on a decoupage tray surrounded by white linen napkins, tiny silver spoons and a tong for the sugar cubes that slowly blended into the tangled flower design in the bottom of the fine china cup that held my favorite jasmine tea blend. On more than one occasion, she let me play with her novel singing bird box.

When teatime was over, Mrs. Holly ritually sunk into her favorite faded green velvet arm chair, smiled a ‘naughty smile’, packed and and lit her pipe. Yes – she smoked a small silver pipe engraved with mischievous little monkeys. The first time I saw her smoke the pipe was a real eye opener! My mother smoked tailor-made’s but I had not yet encountered a women that smoked a pipe! Mrs. Holly, without a doubt, took more liberties than any woman I had formerly been exposed to. Then and there I discovered Mrs. Holly was a suffragette throwback.

I value the solitary time I got to spend with my seemingly ancient friend. I was entranced by her cute, puppet-like face and strong, yet gentle, demeanor. Come to think of it, back then she was the age I am now!

One day I got an urge to walk down Nostalgia Lane and silently thank Mrs. Holly. I remember how we would talk and laugh and that she would actually listen to what I had to say and accept me for who I thought I was at that awkward stage of my life. Up to that point of my life no one had had the time, or inclination, to acknowledge the ‘real me’ or ask about my future hopes, dreams and aspirations.

I was prepared to see the precious cottage sitting alone in the woods, unkempt and uncared for, or simply transformed into a high-class condo building. Imagine my surprise when I discovered the Holly home is now the residence of Jimi McKee, and his wife. Jimi is a brilliantly prolific artist. Each year he chooses a new theme. 2014 was dedicated to carving. I am impressed and inspired by Jimi’s talented creativity and the quality of his workmanship. His art is all over the place – figuratively and, as you can see from the photos, literally. The luck of the Irish didn’t let me down. I had the good fortune of dropping in on the weekend of Images Studio Tour and suddenly stapped back into Mrs. Holly’s new world!

Mrs. Holly was an active artivist and supporter of Arthur Shilling – one of my favorite artists. I told Jimi about the Travis Shilling (Arthur’s son) exhibits I had attended in Victoria and Saltspring Island, BC and Jimi informed me there was a weekend party at Travis Shilling’s home. I was informed to turn left off the higway and continue on untl I went past the Rama Casino and then I just had to take a right turn and two left turns from the Rama Casino – or was it a left turn and two right turns before the casino? As I left the Shilling homestead I realized that despire the fact that four decades have passed, nothing has really changed. I can still socialize at the Shilling family home – the only difference is this time I don’t have to escape my mother’s bondage.

I am certain Mrs. Holly is floating somewhere up there in the clouds blowing smoke rings and nodding approval that I finally understand what is past is passed. I only wish that Jimi McKee, his wife and I could invite Mrs. Holly to join us for tea and brandy in their outdoor wonderland, converse about Steampunk and share our thoughts on other not-so-pertinent topics.

 [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wNNdtGo3dTY[/youtube]