As this is an in-between week, I’m going to lead off with something a bit off our beaten path. Lois Clark has asked that I mention that the 1st Laggan Sparks & Brownies will be selling Girl Guide cookies this coming Saturday, April 11 from 10 AM to 2 PM in front of the Alexandria Jean Coutu Pharmacy. The classic chocolate and vanilla sandwich cookies are only $5.00 a box and the proceeds are for a good cause — the support of Guiding activities here in our community and across the country.
Never content to leave well enough alone, I wondered after getting the e-mail from Lois what the history was behind these iconic snacks. Apparently, their sale in Canada can be traced to a Girl Guide leader in Regina, Saskatchewan who probably came across a 1922 article in the U.S. Girl Scout magazine, American Girl, that suggested cookie sales as a fund-raiser. The magazine article even provided a recipe. This leader from Regina knew a good idea when she saw one and proceeded to bake and package cookies for her girls to sell in order to raise money for their uniforms and camping equipment.
Two years later, the Girl Guides of Canada organization adopted cookie sales as their official fundraising activity. Surprisingly, it wasn’t until 1953 that the classic chocolate and vanilla flavours make their first appearance… only to disappear a few years later. This oversight was corrected in 1966 when public pressure resulted in the re-instatement of the vanilla and chocolate cookies.
A few other milestones in the history of Girl Guide cookies include: 1967, when “Centennial” cookies went on sale; 1991, the year that Canadian soldiers were given boxes of Girl Guide cookies when they were deployed to Saudi Arabia; and 2014, the year that the classic chocolate and vanilla cookies were certified as Kosher.
My prediction is that a gluten-free version is on the horizon, assuming the fad has legs. But this probably won’t happen in time for you to support our local Sparks and Brownies activities by buying a box or two at Jean Coutu this Saturday.
Rear view mirror
This next section got spiked last week because of space considerations. So I’ll try once again this week, because the column wouldn’t feel complete without a touch of Dunvegan history.
I’m grateful to honourary Dunveganite Robin Flockton for keeping his eagle eyes open while rummaging through the new Glengarry Archives (of old stuff). He reports coming across two items of note recently. The first was the 1915 constitution and rules & regulations of the Dunvegan Literary and Debating Society. (Take that, ye who thought our hamlet of old was little more than a backwoods cultural wasteland.)
The second is proof positive that the hamlet was a hotbed of commercial activity… at least back at the end of the 19th century. In an 1892 Bradstreet Report, the Dun & Bradstreet of its day, there were a total of ten Dunvegan businesses listed, including: a weaver, a watchmaker, a shoemaker, two agricultural implement dealers, three general stores and two hotels. The report also lists the names of the owners and their credit rating. I look forward to examining these documents in more detail and reporting on them in future columns.
Decades of difference
Before I begin, I’d like to state that the following observations are not intended as a negative commentary on today’s Glengarry News. They are merely a few innocent observations on what has changed… and what hasn’t… over the years. I issue this disclaimer because when I commented on our community weekly a number of years ago, the offending portion was promptly excised and I was ordered to appear on the then publisher’s carpet. (As I was, and am, not an employee of the News, I ignored this edict. But I did agree to discuss my position over a paid lunch.)
It all started two weekends ago, when we decided to organize the catchall trunks we had used to collect the flotsam and jetsam of our children’s school years. You know the drill; everything from report cards and works of art to merit badges and ribbon-wrapped “diplomas.”
There, tucked between the pages of our daughter’s life, was a copy of the Glengarry News from September 3rd, 1986. I’m not even sure why we kept it, except perhaps for the above-the-masthead Dunvegan-related headline and story that I hope will never be repeated. Regardless, the yellowing publication provided a glimpse of what our local paper looked like back in the day.
The first thing that struck me was its gravitas. The Glengarry News of 1986 looked like a real newspaper. From its no-nonsense masthead to the differing boldness of its headlines to guide your eye to most important articles on a page, it was eminently readable. I was also struck by how much better its “hand-feel” was. Only ¾” narrower than today’s paper, this1-1/2” difference across a two-page spread made a real difference.
The other thing that struck me was the lack of colour… and the complete absence of ads on the front page. As I said it looked like an actual newspaper… with something of real value between its covers. Seeing the old design reinforced my opinion that today’s colour-splashed, tabloid-like layouts do little to inspire the reader.
Even the old ads, although devoid of colour and reliant on line illustration and typography, seemed to have more impact and be less in conflict with each other.
I don’t have space today to delve into the paper’s content, but I was astounded to find that the Williamstown column was penned back then by Sue Harrington — just as it is today! As for Dunvegan, the columnist was Marion Lowen, which makes perfect sense, as I believe she was the Postmistress at the time.
I know we can never go back. However, revisiting this flake of the past showed me that progress is not always all that it’s cracked up to be.
Surprise wedding in Dunvegan
Last but not least, I just heard tell of a storybook wedding held last week west of Dunvegan on Ralph MacSweyn’s old farm. The day was Good Friday and Kurt MacSweyn and his bride-to-be, Robin Bates, managed to pull the wool over everyone’s eyes using the pretense of an invitation to pre-Easter dinner.
The ceremony was designed to be an intimate affair involving only immediate family. Nevertheless, the couple managed to keep it a complete surprise. Their parents and the majority of the invitees didn’t have a clue… until the couple answered the door. Kurt was sporting a formal MacSweyn kilt with all the trimmings and Robin wore a lacey white strapless gown with a small train. I’m not sure what their dog, Kaiser wore, but I do know he was the ring bearer. (Did I really just type that?)
Officiated by the minister from Trinity United Church in Vankleek Hill, the couple lucked out when it came to the weather… especially considering that the ceremony was held in an open barn. After the vows were exchanged, the small party moved to the dining room of the old brick farmhouse for a sit-down dinner catered by Julia Graham from the Quirky Carrot in Alexandria.
The only glitch was a slight timing hiccup when Kurt’s grandparents, Denny and Mary Van Loon, got sidetracked on a visit to a sugar shack. Known for his strict punctuality, Mr. Van Loon was heard to remark that he figured they had some leeway, as “dinner was always late.”
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