LEARNING THE LESSONS OF NATURE

           

            My Dad had a ¼ section near the Swan Lake Valley, at least that is what I call it.

He rented this section as it had a wooded area and space for growing grain. Every so often Mom would load us up and away we go to the ¼ section, which Dad called it the Stewarts  quarter.

            Dad let both cattle and horses road the quarter section and rounded them up when he needed to. From this quarter section he cut his own wood that kept us during the cold winters. I would see him coming down the road with the horses or his tractor pulling his load of cut trees. These would be stacked at the back fence in the barn yard for the wood to cure.

In the fall the load that he had brought in from the past years or years would be cut into logs small enough to fit into the cook stove or heater. 

            At times as Mom or I would drive down the hill at the quarter to find where Dad was we had to drive over ground that had developed  small gullies from running water, and at times we would have to walk to where Dad was. This particular day, Dad was very upset.

The mare that was living on the quarter section had stumbled into  a quagmire or a plot of quick sand, at least that was what Dad called it. It was in the swampy part of the land. We couldn’t figure out how come she ended in there but Dad didn’t want to lose her as she was the only mare he had. We tried everything we could think of and finally we had to get the truck to drag her out. There was no way we could get the truck close enough to help the mare. Dad told mom and I to leave and when he told us that, I knew he was going to shoot her.

            It did bother me for quite a while, but being raised on the farm soon taught all of us children that it was a lesson of nature. Some animals lived and some would die. Through out the years from being on the farm, you soon learn the facts of life and those many many lessons of nature.

OLD GREY MARE SHE AIN’T WHAT SHE USED TO BE

            Yes, there was indeed such an animal, I rode her to school and back. I was quite young, in my early years, as my legs were spread wide over the back of the horse poking out of each side of her back. I can remember saying to my older sister that the horse was too wide, my legs couldn’t go over her sides.

            The buggy was the common way of travelling to school each day and there was a shed in which the horse could be put into. Hay was packed into the back of the buggy for her and at lunch and recess time, one of us would go and give her the hay. It usually wound up that my sister would do it as she was the oldest.

            When the buggy decided to have a hissy fit, we would continue our way home or to school on the back of the horse. I usually hung on with my little fists wrapped around the mare’s mane or harness, which ever was handy. Horses may be great to look at, but to ride, I don’t know, it might take a lot to get me up there again. Scared the crap out of me at the time.

            When she died, Dad then took us to school each day, but then there were many days when we had to walk home. I actually enjoyed those two miles we walked, unless a skunk was sighted. I always enjoyed the nature that surrounded me as we walked.

The young colt that roamed the pasture had never been trained, for some reason Dad would never let us near it to tame it, especially when it was a baby. Never did figure that out.

We never did walk in the winter though, Dad would take us to school in a closed in sleigh, and he would sometimes put hot bricks in it for our feet, but sometimes not. He would sit inside and manage the horses from there as the front had a big opening in it.  Dad would always come and get us in the wagon that had sleighs on it. In the spring those would come off and wheels put on. As the years went past I never did see the closed in sleigh that we used to have. Wonder where that landed up.

I guess those years when I had to walk a lot more, for school, to get the cattle, to help with chores my weight stayed good, but alas through these later years, that has changed. No more said.

PEEPING TOMS (ohhhhh Yeah!!!)

I can laugh at the incidents now, in fact, it’s a matter of both seriousness as well as funny years later. I was aware of these kind of people through the social gossip but never had a personal experience of it until I moved to Killarny.

            During the winter when the snow has a crunchy crust on the top of it, you can hear footsteps as people walked through the snow. One evening, after I had put our daughter to bed, I felt tired and decided to get ready for bed myself. After washing my face and hands I went to the bedroom and started to take of my blouse. I could hear footsteps crunching the snow outside, but the house was not that far from the sidewalk or the street so I didn’t pay anymore attention to it until: the crunchy footsteps seemed to be coming towards the house. Darn it, I wanted to go to bed and rest, I was not looking for a guest. I then realized the footsteps were not going to the door.

            I was going to look out the window when I was met by a pair of male eyes. Oh Yes, I could see it was a male. I won’t say here what I called him, but you could hear him leaving faster than when he came. The shocked look on his face made me wish I had a camera.

            We moved to Winnipeg to let our daughter go to a special deaf school and we moved into the downstairs of a house. The dining room was our bed room and it had a large window towards the back of the house.

            I put the three children down to sleep and Ron and I prepared to go to bed. I pulled down the blind on the window but did not realize it didn’t go all the way down. We got ready to climb into bed when Ron decided to get lovey dovey. It was great until I happened to glance at the window. There I saw a pair of eyes and the top part of someone’s head.  I told Ron we had someone peeping in the window. ‘What should we do he asked?’ ‘Let’s give him as show he won’t forget.’ I said. I slowly got out of bed and put on my housecoat and casually went to the kids room to see if they were sleeping and okay. Silently I went to the back door and quietly opened it and peeked around the corner. There he stood, still looking in the window. ‘Did you get a good enough look? Was that what you wanted?’ I said to him. Have you ever seen someone take a running leap and bound over a 7 or 8 foot fence in one or two bounds with such a scared look on his face was more than enough to scare the shit out of him. I wonder if he ever done it again.

            The last and third time was when we had moved to a street just off of Wellington. It was a duplex and our landlady lived next door. Groaaaaaaaaaaaaaan. Yea it was a problem at times. Anyway, my sister in law and a friend had come over to help me take a dress in as it was too big and I wanted to keep the dress. Here again, it had a large picture window in the dining room. I had my sewing machine set up in there and the three of us were busy working on the dress. As I was trying on the dress I happened to look up and saw a guy looking in the window. I was so pissed off the only thing I could think of was “You son of a bitch’. I ran to the window and watched him jump over the 8 foot fence the next door neighbour had erected.

            I almost killed my self laughing just to see how fast he disappeared and over that high fence. I may have been angry at the times of the peeping toms but as I look back, I chuckle as I think to myself at how stupid they were and how dangerous it could have been.