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.

Having a Yard or Garage Sale

HAVING A GARAGE  SALE

Be aware  of market prices. An item that is in excellent shape may go for half the price of the original price but the price will slide down the scale as the items condition deteriorates. Just the fact that it may be old or vintage, does not mean that it should be sold for more money. Check the market to find out at what price an item is being sold at, if customers are not buying then you know to lower the price for your item even if it is only a couple of dollars.

First you need to decide where and when your are going to have the yard sale, whether it is in the yard or in the garage or maybe both. Check on when you should place your ads for the yard sale. You don’t want to pay for an ad that comes out after the sale is over. Use, on line ads, face book, e-line (such as e-souris, e-elgin, e-brandon and other such sites as well as newspapers, posters, word of mouth and where ever else you can place your advertising. Use road signs with arrows pointing out where the sale is and balloons at the drive way as well.

When you have your yard sale is also crucial. On a weekend, a long weekend, during the week and what day (s) of the month will you have it. Saturday is usually the best, but don't eliminate Sunday. Having it in conjunction with other yard sales or events will help enhance the amount that you will sell. Most of the items sold will be in the morning and slowing down to a dribble after lunch. Usually by around three in the afternoon, no customers are coming.

What are you selling? In your ad mention that you have books, vintage items, new items, or mention something that will help to attract attention. Plus sized clothing is another item that draws a customer. The more items you have the more you will sell, not everyone is looking for the same thing. If it is possible make sure the items are clean, if there is  flaw in the item, make a sign and put it on the item to let the customer know that it needs a part and be prepared to sell it for less.

If the tables are set up horizontal to the street instead of vertical, they can see there may be interesting items they might like to visit the sale to check it out. That said make sure there is room for them to walk between the tables.

Children should be welcome at the yard sale, have a box with free items for them to take with them. Children brings their parents and the parent might see items they want or need.

There are some people who don’t like to haggle, so keep the prices fair. If there are those that want to haggle, then use the bargaining to sell the item. Use the sandwich idea for final price. Top Price – selling price – lowest price.

            BEWARE of those with light fingers. I have not had a yard sale where something has disappeared when packing up. Those are the people that want you to sell your items for pennies if they could. Keep the more expensive items close to where you have your table with your cash book and cash box, this way you can keep an eye on the items.      Make sure you have enough change, bags to carry things and newspaper to wrap.

 Most of all, prepare to have a busy and rewarding day. Use a guest book to keep track of where customers come from. It is surprising from where they come.

                    

My Ghost Story from 1958

REAL GHOST STORY from 1958

 

            It was a foggy fall evening. I don’t remember the date or even what the month was that it happened in. The fog rolled and swayed and danced except for a small area where the yard light glowed emitting a clear small area surrounding it.

            I was sitting on my bed looking out the window at times as I read my book. It was evening as I mentioned, chores had been completed, supper was over, dishes washed and everything put away. Milking was finished, separator cleaned and readied for the next morning.

Homework still needed to be done, but a few minutes were taken to relax. I loved to read, still do in fact, and my mother noticing that and had given me permission to order books from the Provincial Library and I indulged myself to my hearts content with books from there. I glanced up from time to time to look at the view outside my window and became enthralled with what I saw walking in the yard.

From out of the fog, beneath the yard light a man appeared. The fog had melted away from around him as he walked. It was what he was wearing that I became fascinated with and intrigued me. Who was he? His line of traveling was directly towards the corner of the house. Everything was perfectly clear about him, except his face, I could not make out who he was. Was he coming to visit?

As he passed from my site I set my book down and went to the kitchen where my mother and the rest of my siblings were. I would have thought he would have been knocking on our door by now. I scuttled across the kitchen floor to the west window where I peered out to see if I could see who was walking around in the fog at this time of the day. I couldn’t see anyone outside the window.

Mother asked me what I was doing so I told her what I saw and asked her why she hadn’t answered the door. My mother asked me what the matter was as I was looking at the door and I guess I had a funny look on my face. I told her about the man that I had seen. Her reaction surprised me as she ordered we children to stay in doors don’t answer the door and stay away from the windows. It wasn’t until years later that I had a glimpse of why she reacted the way she did as I had often wondered why she did react that way. She never had before.

Swiftly she put on her coat and left the house taking something with her, (I don’t remember now what it was she took with her). A few minutes later she came back into the house and asked if I was sure I saw someone. “Yes” I replied, he was coming towards the house, it looked almost as if he was going to towards the corner of the house. Mother told me there was no one out there, but she locked down the house anyway until Dad came home. Eerie.

I went back to the bedroom and picked up my homework and tried to get involved with it, but my mind kept going back to the figure I had seem. He was an engineer, from his cap to his shoes. His hat and coveralls were stripped like engineers used to wear. He was carrying an old fashioned lantern in one hand and in the other his lunch box. The black metal shone when the yard light reflected on it. He had on black work boots that also shone as he walked. He strode with a stride that told me that he knew where he was going and needed to get there by such a time. Here I must explain that the railroad was a mile south of our farm and he was heading north so he wasn’t going to work, or was he?

He stood at an average height and I wondered if he knew I was watching him, as he glanced my way a few seconds and then continued on his way. He looked like he was either heading for the house or to just simply go past it.

It was when my mother came back into the house to tell us there was no one there when I realized I had seen a ghost from the past. He had just simply disappeared into the fog when he came close to the house.

Mother never did explain why she was so nervous that night.

Another year and  I made it to another birthday  It makes me think back to years gone by when I thought that the years went by so slow. I think back in particular the day I started smoking. Don't remember where I got the cigarettes even. I sat on my bed with the window open thinking that I would let the smoke whirl out the small holes at the bottom of the storm windows.

 

When my Dad had built the extension he put two windows in on the same corner of the room. My bed was positioned under the windows. A perfect place I thought as I fanned the smoke out those holes not realizing that smoke would cling to my clothing and hair.

The thoughts of youth. Of course my mother knew, " Were you smoking?" How I thought I would get away with it. So simple. HA! Mother's knew. From then on I smoked until thirty three years later when I quit along with Ron. Cigarettes at that time were five dollars a pack.

 

There was a sort of freedom in quitting, a freedom I had not noticed before I quit. I did not have to make sure I had enough money to buy cigarettes, that I had enough cigarettes when I traveled. Could I buy Canadian cigarettes in the USA when we travelled down there. I noticed after awhile that when I stood beside anyone else that smoke, they stunk of cigarette smoke. (I learned there was no such word as litterly).

 

I never realized how the smoke affected all of my surroundings from coating the walls, windows and everything in the house, including all of us breathing the second hand smoke. We had moved into a smaller house and in the process of getting it ready to move, I had to deal with layers of smoke as the previous owner was a smoker. On a built in cabinet in the bedroom, I finally had to wallpaper over the glass doors as the smoke stain could not be removed. Each window I washed took a clean pail of water to remove the brown stain from smoke. Imagine having to clean the whole house when wherever I looked was brown from smoking.

 

A few years later Ron had purchased a Dodge camper van. It was left to me to clean and make it ready for camping. It took me four pails of water just to clean the ceiling of the inside of that van, never mind the walls and the cupboard, inside and out. Yuck, how could I have smoked at one time and not realize what it was doing to my surroundings. Hindsight I guess.

 

Its been twenty two years since I quit and have never regretted it. I don't have any extra money and wonder how in the world I ever found the money to sustain my habit. Probably never really know. Looking back I suppose my family had to do without things as between Ron and I we were smoking three packs a day. Ron smoked two and I smoked one, but as it later shows I was more addicted to smoking than Ron was or he was more able to handle it than I. I tried many things to quit until one day I saw an ad on quitting smoking. It was done with laser and it said there was a sale on, half price. My Doctor had told me I had to quit but while Ron still smoked I was not about to quit with someone else still smoking in the house. Ron agreed and with a hundred dollars in our pocket and two cigarettes left, we smoked the cigarettes and then had the laser treatment.

 

The laser of course is only a crutch, just like the acupunctures, hypnotize, patches, gum and other ways of trying to quit. We walked out of that clinic and never looked back. The only time I did try to have a cigarette was when my father died. I took one puff and puked my guts out. Never again.

 

It still wasn't easy in the first couple of years, to have a smoke with our coffee, to tell ourselves to stay away from areas where there would be a lot of smokers was difficult. But as time went on, it became easier. A trick we used, was to drink something when we had a yen to have a smoke. Usually by the time we took a deep breath the urge was gone.

 

Other things may get us in the end, but no more smoking. The freedom is unbelievable.

 

 

It Never Fails

It Never Fails

 

Want to get rid of stuff in a hurray? Have a yard sale. Things will disappear faster than you can keep track of what you have. For every year that I have had a yard sale, items have walked off and out of the yard and never paid for. Wonder if I have the word sucker written on my forehead or something. It's not like if will break me, it's the audacity of some people who can't be honest at a nickel and dime yard sale.

 

Like, maybe they are poor and they can't afford a few cents? Or maybe they are just naturally light fingered? I really don't know. I have just finished sorting and repacking the items from my yard sale and found that a small box of greeting cards had disappeared and I know I did not sell them. These greeting cards ranged from the 1800's to early 1900. I have the pictures of those cards as I had scanned them for some reason on my computer. I certainly hope that person has a guilt complex every time they sell at least one of them, especially on line, I will be watching for them.

 

The Elgin and Area Lions had also planned a BBQ for the same weekend but when it was so miserable, the yard sale and the BBQ were cancelled. It all took place the following weekend and turned out to be a great day. Except for the person who was light fingered. I wonder if they thought it would not go unnoticed? Got news for them.

 

 

            

            I would defy anyone to try and learn to skate on an old pair of hockey skates that were too big for your feet. Since that was all we had to wear, even though those were old second hand skates, we succeeded in learning to skate in them.     

            Just past the barn was a slough that froze over every winter, and made a perfect spot for skating, or rather to learn to skate. Off we went wobbling our way through the barn yard and out into the pasture to the wonderful frozen patch of ice that was waiting for us. Or rather, for my siblings.  With a few swipes of the shovels that we had brought with us, a fair size patch of ice was cleared off.

            I hated the skates I had to use, maybe that was why I couldn't seem to stand up in them, never mind skating a few feet. I had a terrible time trying to keep my balance.I did keep trying, year and year until one day, when my older sister and I went to skate in the ditch across the road. When a dry year happens and there has been no water in the slough that we usually skating in the ditch was just fine, there was lots of ice and I sat on the shoulder and contemplated the fact that I could not seem to get the idea of keeping my balance while I skated.

            While thinking that, and deciding that I was going to go home, because I couldn't skate, I got up on my feet and skated across the ditch to the road. It wasn't until I had got to the other side that I realized what I had done. It's funny how our minds work.

            That Christmas, I got a brand new pair of skates, not the figure skates I wanted, but skates. At first, I was disappointed, but in time, I understood that I could never have  used figure skates with the picks. Years later, I bought a pair of skates with the picks, well those picks got to me every time and I found myself lying on the ice wondering why I put myself through it. Live and Learn. 

Those Were the days Among Many

`           We had to take turns doing the barn chores and looking after the chickens. Right after we got home from school, we had to put chop and hay in the mangers for the cattle, the pigs and fowl.  The horses, Dad looked after when he got home with them. He was always afraid that the horses were too big for us to look after. Those big gentle giants, were always eager to go, eager to please and ate a lot of food. Then over to the hen house, pick the nest of eggs and put them in to a pail or whatever we had in our hands to carry them. There was a certain way to get an egg while the hen was sitting on it. If you put your hand in from behind, you had to do it slowly, that old hen never blinked an eye. Try it from the front and your hand would be right smartly tattooed by her beak. The other thing you had to watch for was the old rooster, especially if the hen was nesting. He didn’t like anyone entering into his territory. Once the eggs were picked, then the pigs had to be fed, and they also got chop and at times grain and fresh water.

It was with fascination that I sat at my fathers knees and watched him strip the fur off the animals he had caught. With each animal that he worked on, he taught me more and more about how to take and preserve the fur from the animals.  To him those furs were money and there were certain ways to strip the furs off.

It was also with equal fascination that I watched him as he fixed the tires for the cars and equally with our bikes. It seemed that he could do anything he turned his mind to. I helped him load the manure boat and haul the manure away every day. Never ever would he let a day go buy that the animals stalls were cleaned of old manure and replaced with fresh fragrant straw. Rarely was hay used for bedding purpose, just straw and I learned how to do that also.

            I can remember the time Dad had decided to feed the pigs fish. He could scoop up the fish for free, pay not a cent for them. This was when there had been when the fish at Ninette were dying by the hundreds. Free food for the pigs. Right!!! Have you ever eaten pork meat that tasted like fish? Remember, there were two whole pigs that were slaughtered that fall, and we ended up eating, fishy meat. I’ll tell you, Dad never did that again.

It was such fun when the pigs or the cattle got “out”, that meant that the garden could get raided or the animals would end up on the road that ran past our yard. You can just forget about trying to make a pig go where you want it to go. Such nice language could be heard as we dashed about here and there after those four legged critters. It’s more cantankerous than a teenager when you try to make it do what you want. It takes three people to corral those pigs, but I have done it alone, after much fuss and bother. Now cattle on the other hand, are easier to drive. Those days when it was my turn to go and get the cows for milking, I had to walk a few miles. This I didn’t mind, far better than doing chores or house work.

I would find a pole or a straight stick from somewhere, call to the dog and off we went. Sometimes, I even went barefoot, through pastures and fields. I would stop along the way, to admire the flowers, to watch a gopher, to see if I could find a Killdeer nest. I would watch the flock of swans not far from me, or the geese and ducks as they landed on the field. It was nothing to see a garter snake slither past with the dog chasing it. He must have had a dislike for the snakes. . One must have bit him at one time or another Sometimes I could see a skunk or two in the distance, or a mole. At times, the hardest part of getting the cattle was trying to get them to come out of the slough they were standing it. Couldn’t blame them though, it must have been nice and cool standing belly deep in water. They seemed to know why I was there, and they slowly and reluctantly herded themselves towards the barn, a mile or so in the distance. I never rushed them, if I got back to soon, I would have to help finish the chores or go into the house to do housework which I hated with a passion.

Now, I was never the best milker. My mother was, she could milk three cows to my one and then she would have to “finish it” as she put it, to make sure that all the milk had been stripped from the udder of my cow. That was fine with me; I would then amble over to the separator and help it along as pail after pail of milk was strained through into the big bowl. It soon separated the milk and the cream, but Mother sure made sure that she got every drop of cream from the milk. She had the screw down so tight on it so that it would separate most or all of the cream.  The skim milk in the stores, tasted better than the skim milk that she put through that separator. I did not, however, like warm milk straight from the cow. I liked my milk cold and still do, although every once in a while I do heat up milk with some vanilla and sugar for a treat. Whole milk, even the 3% that is suppose to be called whole milk today, wasn’t too rich for me to drink. Now I find it far too rich to drink. Talking about milk and cream, we used to make our own butter and since Mom and I were the only ones that liked the buttermilk, we would have lots to enjoy. I still like buttermilk, but it sure tastes different to what I grew up with.

When we saw the churn sitting on the table, we tried to see how fast we could disappear out of the house. Never always worked though, I sometimes wondered if my mother had eyes on the back of her head. She would usually catch one of us and she would always call us by name without even looking to see who it was. You should have heard us moan and groan. It seemed to take forever to make that butter and as one had to turn the handle to make the paddle go; it became awful tiring turning it for what seemed like hours on end. But in the end, we had the sweetest butter you ever tasted. Then Mother would put it in a strainer and strained the entire liquid out and then put it in a butter box and form a brick. Some times she would mix butter and margarine and I wasn’t crazy on the taste.

            I used to love annoying the animals and my parents had no love lost on me when I did annoy them. Any treatment I got from the animals, my mother thought I well deserved, but heck, it was fun doing it!! The building in what my dad called his machine shop or tractor shed as it was called more often than not was just low enough for us to scramble up on the roof. It was easy to do so on this building as it was still made of the logs and mud. Every so often dad would stuff mud into the cracks, when it rained the ground was mud.  Anyway, getting off the track here, I hated the old gander that roamed freely where ever he wanted in the barn yard. I think he knew I didn’t care for him, as he would hiss at me when I got too close to him and his ladies. I would get pissed off with him, and hiss and honk right back and then I had to run and climb onto the tractor roof to escape him. After called for mom to come and help me, she would chase away the gander and then gave me a tongue lashing for disturbing the gander and her. 

I’d also do the same to the mean old rooster ever once in a while. It sure was fun while it lasted. Once in a while the Billy goat that mom had would chase us up to the roof top. There was no way any of us would come down until mom came and tied him up somewhere far away. The nanny was okay and it was funny watching how mother milked her. She milked that goat from behind. I often wondered what mom did with the milk, I never did find out.

            That’s all for tonight, couldn’t sleep so thought I would put it on paper before my mind forgot what it was I was thinking about. What do you remember growing up? I would love to hear from you.