Columns
Uncle Chaff! Uncle Chaff! That's Uncle Chaff over there, that's Uncle Chaff right here, that's Uncle Chaff where you least expect, yet always suspect. Uncle Chaff at the barbecue flipping burgers with bare hands? Classic Uncle Chaff.
There have been a few things getting my goat - sticking in my craw, as it were - as of late in the world of conservative views and now, you're going to hear about them.
Voters in Ontario are less than a week away from an election nobody wanted. Oh, certainly Premier Doug Ford will claim he is only seeking a fresh mandate to deal with the tariff demands of U.S. President Donald Trump...
The time has come. We have tolerated this long enough. We have shovelled, scraped, skidded, stumbled and suffered through these months of relentless ice and snow, and we refuse to endure a single second more.
One day just after Christmas, my daughter's Kindergarten class had a pajama day. Students had the choice to wear their favourite pajamas to school that day for a bit of fun that included watching a movie together and having some popcorn.
It came as something of a surprise the other day when I opened a historical magazine I read and saw that this Saturday marks the 60th anniversary of the unveiling of our Canadian maple leaf flag.
Know when to fold 'em, Bringing it all back home, Whole lotta love
William Clark Johnston was born on Nov. 22, 1912 to parents Charlie and Annie Mabel (Geddes) Johnston. He grew up on Lot E ½ 39 Conc. 9 in East Wawanosh Township, just a few miles west of Belgrave.
A shadow fell upon us all that day. A long, writhing shadow, thick with implication. We awoke with the same familiar dread, the kind that gnaws at the corners of memory, but this time, it had form.
ATTENTION! Lightning Round of all that Donald Trump, U.S. President and budding imperialist, has ruined: GO!
One of the outcomes of the recent cease-fire between Israel and the government in Gaza was the welcome inflow of food and other supplies to the starving people of Gaza.
Supporting our own, Lightning round, A human authenticity
Listen... last week, you could be forgiven for grieving a lot of things. There's the death of peace, civility and a proper democracy in the United States (rather than a burgeoning oligarchy run by a handful of the world's richest people)...
Raving about David Lynch has become fashionable since his recent passing, but we at The Chaff initially refused to jump on the bandwagon because we'd never heard of this character Lynch.
This past Monday marked the 80th anniversary of allied troops liberating the Auschwitz Nazi death camps in Poland and eastern Europe in 1945.
Much is at stake, No, we need a 'mandate', Refusing to turn away
Early settlers were faced with the reality of preservation when it came to meats. The alternatives were: eat while fresh, which would work for a chicken or small game; drying it, such as with fish; salting it, or boiling it and storing it in jars.
Last week, five days short of his 79th birthday, David Lynch died. Visionary filmmaker, television revolutionary, groundbreaking painter and all-around pure artist, Lynch is a source of inspiration to many, including myself, who create for a living.
Giddily, The Chaff staff gathered last week to witness the beginning of what can only be described as the greasiest leadership race in the history of our prestigious column.
As Blyth prepares to celebrate the 150th anniversary of its incorporation in 2027, I'm part of a team of about two dozen people researching an updated history of the village.
Like the winters of old, It is happening again, Turning the page
If we could travel back in time 100 years or more, and head to the first farm north of Blyth on the east side of London Road (Lot 2 Conc. 9 Morris Township), we would find a prosperous property called Maple Farm.
Last week, Mark Zuckerberg announced that Meta, his company, would end its fact-checking initiatives on social media platforms like Facebook and Instagram.
Now, the truth unfurls like a crimson banner in the frostbitten wind: The Chaff is, was and ever shall be a Russian bot. Not a clever metaphor, not a sly insinuation, but an undeniable, unassailable fact.