Basement Bargain Price Leafs For Sale

Where is the passion for the playing of the game, and the proudness of achieving the Stanley Cup? I must admit that every era of hockey, those that govern, those that play and those that observe have their faults, corruption, integrity, pleasures, success and defeats. Currently, attention to hockey has been the status of jokes, puns, insinuations, making fun of and laughing at the fact that the Leafs will never win the Stanley Cup again. Imagine the bragging rights of true fans if the Leafs succeeded. Not one to be boisterous and visually or verbally exuberant, I would be one to root for the underdog and be pleased to see the Leafs win. Headlines blossomed when the end of the Twenty-twelve regular season left the Leafs at the bottom of the basement in points. A frustrated owner sneered. Sports reporters stood stiffly, mouths agape and arms holding microphones extended waiting for the Leafs' owner, Mr. Smithe sputter a marketable quote. "Basement bargain price, Leafs for sale "

In the rugged bush of Northern Ontario, a small bush plane crashes. On board is a ten-year-old boy and the pilot. In the early 1960's the only one capable of finding the crash site is Hag and his blood hound Wojo. Hag enjoyed the good life of living in the wilderness until events leading up to the crash and the search was hampered by his companion. Wojo has shown signs of rabies. It is too late when Hag discovers that the infected scratch on his arm was from his dog. There in the middle of nowhere a sick man and the boy he finds develop a bond that is stronger then life it self. Survival is the utmost of importance when there is a lifetime of growing up ahead. An adventure bigger than the wilderness of Northern Ontario. Quotes: A powerful story. I was shocked by the ending. As heartfelt as the movie Old Yeller. I cried for the boy, I cried for the dog and I cried for Hag. A great story Idea, it could have really happened especially here in Northern Ontario. This is truly a Canadian story.

The Author retells memories of growing up on Roosevelt Street, between 1956 to 1965. In a steel town in Northern Ontario, Canada, where kids that lived on Roosevelt Street go through their childhood years. Every kid has adventures, fun and excitement when growing up. Follow the kids as they explore their neighbourhood, the wilderness around and them selves. Read what thoughts a kid of the fifties and sixties remembers about events, friends and himself. A story for adults who want to linger back to an innocent age to remember being a kid. Kids of today will get a feeling of how their parents grew up. Quotes: Thinking back now after reading Roosevelt Street, I had a great time growing up. Similar events happened to me. Thanks for rekindling those memories. I had lost touch with my memories of growing up on Roosevelt Street. I cried after reading about myself in those stories. I am sad that I have moved so far away from home. A great simple story. There should be more books of simple innocence.

War affects countries, and the lives of residents and messenger pigeons. History is filled with stories of the average, the heroic, and with historical facts believed to be true. Not only were human participants there by choice or by conscription, there were animals conscripted to assist their human benefactors. If given a choice would they believe in a cause and volunteer? What about the common pigeon, the birds of flight that delivered messages across the battle fields. For every successful messenger there were countless ones that fell under the barrage of enemy fire. Who protected the messenger pigeons? Meet Dodger, a breed of pigeon adept at tumbling, rolling, and the majestic art of aerial displays for entertainment. Tumblers were not messengers or racers, yet they held their part in the protection of messengers, acting as rescuers, and diversions to protect the messengers from harm. Meet, Johnathon 'Dodger' Wentworth-Tumbler, a First World War Rescue Pigeon.

"A collection of short stories, presenting the fragmentation of life, the adventures, drama, comedy presented in life of people and creatures of the world. All aspects of emotions presented for study and enjoyment."--

I had walked out of the bush an old man. How Old, I did not know? The years had passed without the need to celebrate the remembrance of a birth date. There was something familiar about the place I stood. Slowly, faint memories recalled past moments of my life. As a young man, I had walked across this field many times. I noticed a man rocking lazily on an open porch across the field. I know the man approaching; there is a twinkle in his eye. We pause and stop, our eyes studying each and every feature of the other. He is familiar; I search my memory for names to place with the face before me. ""Thomas?"" ""Yes, I am Thomas Chapais."" ""Thomas I am Nicolas."" Two old men stood there dumb-founded with nothing to say but to repeat each other's name with favour, contempt, anger, sadness and an undying love that only kinship knows. Without an embrace, nor a handshake we bonded as brothers need to. Our eyes were reluctant to gaze away for fear of the image disappearing.

Soaring freely on wings of silky canvas fabric, a colourful kite is barely seen against a clear blue sky. Higher than any of the other kites, twenty assorted kites jostled for manoeuverability. Higher above them floated a sky flyer, its fabric skin taunt against a warm updraft and wind. Stressed to the breaking point, the tethered line held fast to the kite's structural frame. Lazy dog day afternoons are meant for relaxing, and will be recalled in declining years of age. The Sky Flyer waved its long tail of spinning fan blades. Competing kids unreeled in line, in hopes of matching the sky flyer's height. Eyes fixated on the height of the sky flyer. Kids cheered, and town's folk paused, all awed with delight. Some wished that their childhood could have been as adventurous and playful. This September of Nineteen-Ten Is a momentous day. Quote: Boy, kids had fun back in the olden days. Modern kids are missing out on life. At sixty, I want to go fly a kite!

"A first collection of theatre plays by Richard Mousseau. Plays are suitable for amateur and professional theatre groups. Sparse, or elaborate sets will enhance the plays. Some plays are adaptable to a radio play format. Range of acceptance is general public. All plays are generated from the aspect of the common person, and all audiences will be amused by the drama and comedy."--