Dome Chronicles

The Dome Chronicles: Canaan Road

The Dome Chronicles: Canaan Road A Poetry Month Special by Garry Leeson When you walk through the woods by the old Cannan Road Just west of the Fales River falls If you look very close you’ll see traces of fields And endless rows of granite stone walls And the lilies still bloom where the houses once stood At the heart of the once prosperous farms Where people carved a life with the axe and the plough And the never-waning strength of their arms But the life was too hard on that old mountain top So they moved their homes and…
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The Dome Chronicles: Forget it, Goose Man.

The Dome Chronicles: Forget it, Goose Man. By Garry Leeson In 1972, a boxcar from Toronto containing a menagerie of farm animals and an eager young couple pulled into the station platform in Kingston, Nova Scotia. They were bound for a deserted hundred-acre farm on the South Mountain, determined to preserve the foundations of farmsteads past while constructing a geodesic dome. They were pioneers of the future, armed with respect for tradition and an irrepressible sense of humour. They didn’t call themselves farmers. They were back-to-the-landers. Farming was industry and their calling was sustainability. Over the next forty years, through…
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The Dome Chronicles: A Come From Away Christmas

The Dome Chronicles: A Come From Away Christmas By Garry Leeson   In 1972, a boxcar from Toronto containing a menagerie of farm animals and an eager young couple pulled into the station platform in Kingston, Nova Scotia. They were bound for a deserted hundred-acre farm on the South Mountain, determined to preserve the foundations of farmsteads past while constructing a geodesic dome. They were pioneers of the future, armed with respect for tradition and an irrepressible sense of humour. They didn’t call themselves farmers. They were back-to-the-landers. Farming was industry and their calling was sustainability. Over the next forty…
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The Dome Chronicles: If This House Could Speak

The Dome Chronicles: If This House Could Speak By Garry Leeson   Beginning at the outskirts of the town of Berwick, a road winds its way up the South Mountain past a small community hall that announces that you have entered Windermere. Across the road, almost hidden under a canopy of mature trees, stands a stately farmhouse. It once stood naked in the centre of a patchwork of cleared fields, but now a comforting green growth of forest surrounds and envelops it. It’s an old house, built in 1875 but remodelled and added to in 1908 when the Kinnie family…
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The Dome Chronicles: Baked Beans and Brown Bread

The Dome Chronicles: Baked Beans and Brown Bread By Garry Leeson In 1972, a boxcar from Toronto containing a menagerie of farm animals and an eager young couple pulled into the station platform in Kingston, Nova Scotia. They were bound for a deserted hundred-acre farm on the South Mountain, determined to preserve the foundations of farmsteads past while constructing a geodesic dome. They were pioneers of the future, armed with respect for tradition and an irrepressible sense of humour. They didn’t call themselves farmers. They were back-to-the-landers. Farming was industry and their calling was sustainability. Over the next forty years,…
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The Dome Chronicles: Thanks but No Thanksgiving

The Dome Chronicles: Thanks but No Thanksgiving Garry Leeson   In 1972, a boxcar from Toronto containing a menagerie of farm animals and an eager young couple pulled into the station platform in Kingston, Nova Scotia. They were bound for a deserted hundred-acre farm on the South Mountain, determined to preserve the foundations of farmsteads past while constructing a geodesic dome. They were pioneers of the future, armed with respect for tradition and an irrepressible sense of humour. They didn’t call themselves farmers. They were back-to-the-landers. Farming was industry and their calling was sustainability. Over the next forty years, through…
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The Dome Chronicles: Confession of a Karaoke Addict

The Dome Chronicles: Confession of a Karaoke Addict By Garry Leeson In 1972, a boxcar from Toronto containing a menagerie of farm animals and an eager young couple pulled into the station platform in Kingston, Nova Scotia. They were bound for a deserted hundred-acre farm on the South Mountain, determined to preserve the foundations of farmsteads past while constructing a geodesic dome. They were pioneers of the future, armed with respect for tradition and an irrepressible sense of humour. They didn’t call themselves farmers. They were back-to-the-landers. Farming was industry and their calling was sustainability. Over the next forty years,…
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The Dome Chronicles: A Dark Secret Unearthed

The Dome Chronicles: A Dark Secret Unearthed By Garry Leeson In 1972, a boxcar from Toronto containing a menagerie of farm animals and an eager young couple pulled into the station platform in Kingston, Nova Scotia. They were bound for a deserted hundred-acre farm on the South Mountain, determined to preserve the foundations of farmsteads past while constructing a geodesic dome. They were pioneers of the future, armed with respect for tradition and an irrepressible sense of humour. They didn’t call themselves farmers. They were back-to-the-landers. Farming was industry and their calling was sustainability. Over the next forty years, through…
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The Dome Chronicles: The Baby Quilt

The Dome Chronicles: The Baby Quilt By Garry Leeson In 1981 we were busy running our new auction centre in Aylesford. Although we were primarily a livestock auction, we also sold other commodities like furniture and antiques. One day Andrea suggested that we try conducting a quilt auction to further diversify our business and help the local quilters to get better prices for their long hours of work. I was against the idea, so, of course, it turned out to be a roaring success. Hundreds of quilts sold at premium prices leaving a cash register full of commissions. We knew…
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The Dome Chronicles: DIY

The Dome Chronicles: DIY By Garry Leeson In 1972, a boxcar from Toronto containing a menagerie of farm animals and an eager young couple pulled into the station platform in Kingston, Nova Scotia. They were bound for a deserted hundred-acre farm on the South Mountain, determined to preserve the foundations of farmsteads past while constructing a geodesic dome. They were pioneers of the future, armed with respect for tradition and an irrepressible sense of humour. They didn’t call themselves farmers. They were back-to-the-landers. Farming was industry and their calling was sustainability. Over the next forty years, through flood and fire,…
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