With Thanks, a Tough Goodbye

Last Thursday, May 12, a Memorial Service was held for my dear friend Bruce Lee, ‘Mon Oncle’ as I sometimes called him.

Bruce lived in Toronto and I am currently living in New Brunswick. Once again not only the pain of saying goodbye to a friend, but of not having seen them, shared a meal or outing for many months. Phone calls, e-mails and letters help but are rarely a true connection.  Too often while I have lived one side of the ocean or the other or in another province this has happened; the heart-ache never lessens.

Bruce would have celebrated his 95^th birthday in November, and celebrate is one word all his friends would have used about his life. An amazing home renovator-re-builder, stained glass artist, self-taught craftsman in many media, he was able to bring a master’s touch to every project he worked on, and they were many.

Born in Alberta, Bruce grew up on his family’s farm during the hardscrabble days of the Depression. As you can see he was a good-looking young man, and stayed handsome. One of three boys he was interested in the quilts of those days; the patterns and fabrics. A detailed description of these early years is related in his memoir, self-published when he was 92.

I first met Bruce and Joyce, his wife, almost 30 years ago when we all lived in Guelph. They were across the street neighbours who quickly became good friends. After Bruce had come east and worked in Montreal and Toronto, and travelled a great deal, they came to Guelph and bought Duncan McPhee Interiors, located in a lovely mid-nineteenth century building. From this ideal location Bruce and Joyce sold exceptional furniture, upholstered and wood, sophisticated home accessories and gifts as well as art and framing supplies.

Most of the wallpaper and curtains in my Guelph house were from the Lee’s store. I still have some of the curtains and as I look around our home here just about all the artwork has Duncan McPhee frames. Tonight at dinner I remembered buying the place mats on a trip to Elora with Bruce, probably on a visit when living back in Britain. Bruce also persuaded me to buy the blue and white striped sheets we sleep in.

We shared a mutual love of art, the arts – Joyce, like me, loved ballet – and antiques. My first foray into selling antiques at the well-known Aberfoyle Antique Market outside Guelph was supported and success inquired after. Later when I expanded to Toronto’s Harbour Front and other locations Bruce advised and sometimes helped with small restoration jobs.  Through this I met the Canadian war artist Will Ogilvie and his wife, who lived behind the Lees, and sold some items for them as well as buying from them myself.

This photograph was taken visiting my former antiques partner Frances who had moved to Warkworth, Ontario

Bruce modestly said he was “handy with tools”. Possibly the understatement of the century. From the renovation, almost a re-design, of

Liverpool Street

, the Lees lived in a multi-storey town house in Toronto before moving to a period house on

Wright Avenue

. There Bruce made forty windows many with stained glass, built a new garage with a two-storey addition above, finally giving Joyce her weaving room.  Lastly there was Stonegate, where we once again marvelled at his amazing and meticulous work that transformed a basic house. The man was handy!

Joyce and Bruce bought a small home in Dunedin, Florida and we were fortunate to visit there. Bruce loved a bargain and outlets as much as I do, so it was always happy hunting.

Sadly Joyce died in Florida, while Bruce was driving her to hospital. Once again I was in Britain when this happened. On a visit later he gave me some of her weaving wool and pieces she had woven. Treasured.

‘Mon oncle’ came into being one time I was visiting from Britain. Out for dinner I knew it would be almost impossible to persuade Bruce to allow me to pay, to repay him for his hospitality and friendship. As we ordered our wine I went to the ladies room, an excuse to tell our waiter I would do the same after dinner and would he have the bill ready, as ‘my uncle’ would certainly want to pay. The ruse worked perfectly. Though Bruce did admit as we left laughing he had wondered about my waterworks.

The most important day we shared was when Bruce escorted me down the aisle in Guelph to marry my husband Gary. A happy day. A good memory.

Many good memories. Thank you, Bruce.

Of princes, presidents, parliamentarians, and presents

A week of history-making of major significance, magnificence and achievement.

A week in which a small thoughtful gift gave me great pleasure, and hope.

Last week I wrote about spending the royal wedding day antiquing with a friend. After a surfeit of pre-wedding photos, biographies, histories, analysis and speculation, the ‘big’ day seemed almost an anti-climax. In any case I knew it would be shown again and again, should I want to see any of the celebrations.

Don’t get me wrong, I am in favour of the monarchy. Of the continuity of history, the stability, the holding together of a nation above the petty divide of party politics, the enduring mystique and pageantry.

After all I spent my childhood and formative early adult years in Britain. Though as a Welshwoman I was always hoping for a green passport with a red dragon emblazoned on it. 

The Queen herself says it is a job, upholding the commitment and legacy of the family firm; which she does with grace, fortitude and an air of apparent unfaltering interest.  I wish the new Duke and Duchess of Cambridge, a city I lived close to and know well, all happiness, I just find it impossible to be interested in the minutiae of everyday royal lives. Of the glimpses of the wedding I caught, what moved me most was the glory of Westminster Cathedral, its soaring architecture testament to centuries of belief.

The remainder of the seven days past were about defying the odds on terrorism, on securing a mandate to lead a country. About partisanship, about glory. Whether recognising the end of bin Laden’s terror-focused life or the sea-change in Canadian politics, there is always the right versus left, elephant versus donkey, red versus blue that frequently becomes bigger than the real achievement or outcome. And neither am I remotely interested in the daily lives of politicians, presidents or prime ministers. So often the early hopes dim and fade, the colours lose their initial brightness, the music fades away.

The enduring image of my week is the picture at the beginning of this week’s diary.

One of my students recently went to visit his family in Japan. They are safe but he witnessed his country in deep sadness and loss. Though as he said the Japanese people have found strength and survived through unimaginable horrors before.

With all this on his mind he still had the graceful thought to bring me back a gift, of incense. I lit it as a prayer for peace.

A Different Prince or How I Spent 'The Wedding' Day

An early riser only in the most exceptional cases, I knew a 4 or 5 am wake–up was not going to happen last Friday. By the time I’d bathed and washed my hair the happy couple were leaving Westminster Abbey.

Besides I had other plans. By 10 am my friend Pauline Duguay and I were on the road to Prince Edward Island, a trip we had been planning for some time. The 12.9 km foot bridge soared ahead as we approached under cloudy skies.

Pauline owns one of my very favourite shops –Boutique Recycl’ Art & Antiques on John Street in Moncton. This shop is a visual delight, every space on two floors filled with furniture and useful and decorative items from past decades. I've written aboout the shop in a previous series 'My Favourite Places' (knowmoncton.com/favorite-places) and it was one of my choices in my feature 'Shops etc' for Style at Home, October 2010.

A 1930’s building, formerly a grocers and barbershop with an upstairs apartment, it is a perfect, creative and artistic example of today’s mantra: ‘Reuse, Restore, Recycle’. Whenever anyone asks her what’s new in the store, Pauline always says “Nothing; everything I have is old, some of it’s made new again.”

These days ‘useful’ pieces are eagerly sought. Armoires, cupboards, shelves, tables with drawers and shelves leave her store as fast as she can find them. Pauline spends hours stripping, sanding, and refinishing with stain or paint and says she loves it. She sources items from all over the Maritimes and New England, which is why we headed to the Island where she knows all the dealers and craftspeople.

As always on these trips Chester, a poodle-terrier mix and the shop’s welcoming mascot accompanied us. He loves an adventure, supervises well and wanders easily round all the shops, content while Pauline discovers old treasures big and small.

Friday is my only ‘free- for me day’  and we were lucky with the weather. It’s years since I had been to the Island and was amazed at the spring-greenness of it compared with gardens and fields in the Moncton area. We visited Victoria-by-the-Sea, a charming coastal village before heading to Summerside.

It was too early for most seasonal cafes to be open so we settled for a first-time-for-me lunch at Wendy’s. Being vegetarian fast food is not big on my menu but I was happy with a baked potato and a small salad.

Next stop was to see Wayne, a craftsman who builds custom cupboards from old wood. With Chester guiding we loaded a seven-foot entertainment centre into the trailer, plus another cupboard painted a soft blue and a small bench.

The sun was now shimmering on the water and a visit to Robert Coulson’s antiques shop unearthed some good finds. A deco glass fronted bookcase, a yellow glass water set, a pair of delicate wine glasses and assorted china and earthen ware. I found a large bowl painted with colourful fruit, just right for my yellow and green kitchen, and a decorative silver plated spoon.

With the back of the van almost full we made one more visit, stopping on the way to take in a typical PEI wide open landscape.

BC Antiques in Kensington yielded a lovely cabinet and a perfect-for-two love seat. But as we did not have room for them, they will be picked up on another trip to Prince Edward. Meanwhile back at the shop Chester was well-pleased with his day, as were Pauline and I.