One thing leads to another

So, we were sitting here talking about psithirism, and the delightful sound of the wind rustling through the trees and leaves. The tall poplars up on the farm were much taller than the poplars on the prairies. The wind blew through the tops of the poplars and there was not a breath of wind on…

Rest Rooms

When I was a little child we would take the freight train to Tisdale from the homestead near Mistatim. Usually the freight train would come and go in the same day. There was a station in the town of Mistatim. We would take the horses into the station. Dad would drive us to the station,…

Storks, cabbage and rhubarb

Picking berries. Did I pick berries? I could write a book!! I was picking raspberries along with my sister Margaret when our younger sister, Jolane, was born. Margaret was 10, I was 3-1/2. Mom and Dad told us to pick wild raspberries which grew wild at the edge of the yard. Dad was going to…

An adventure

Trying to remember when this was. It was before 1952, maybe 1950. We could pick blueberries near our home, but they weren’t very big nor plentiful.  Everybody around our community knew that there was blueberries ready to be picked at Greenbush about 25 miles east pf our town.  But not many people went there except…

Violets

A long time ago, Jill lived across the alley from our house.  And I admired her blue violets growing under her spruce tree. It was so colourful, blue everywhere.  One day, I saw her outside and commented how very lovely it was.  She asked if I wanted some, and off she went to get a…

Bob waiting for dad to come home

We had a dog named Bob.  He was a german shepherd mix, who knows what.  he was so faithful and so intelligent.  He never left the  yard unless he was called to come.  He knew when we were coming home and he waited for us. On many days when  we were expecting dad to come…

Stumble Upon Black Bear Cub

Well, we kids, walked over the countryside to the one room school house in the little hamlet of Mistatim, Saskatchewan.  This journey was about four miles [6 kilometers] from our first homestead. My eldest sister was Margaret, about seven years older than I.  Here, I was, a pipsqueak in Grade one. One morning we were…

Dad’s encounter with moose

Did I ever tell you the story about when Dad was sandwiched between two moose in the middle of winter? He was out on the trapline, making his way home in the thickest of the northern Canadian forests.  A winter path, hardpacked, narrowly winding between Spruce trees and Tamarack.  At right angles to the path,…