THE HEN HOUSE

     The first hen house my parents had was a small shed which I hated. That was because it always seemed to be the one I would have to go and clean it out. Every Saturday, never failed. I cringed and between the chicken shit smell and those tiny red mites, I shuddered, and cursed the occasional "chicken hawk". I worked as fast as I could to get out of there.
     Dad then renovated the log building that was in the barn yard and put the chickens in there. He built a long box from one end of the building to the other
end of the building and put in dividers. There the hens settled in quite contentedly and laid their eggs. This was fine for a few years until the weasel dug its way into the hen house and raised  pandemonium.
    The night the weasel raised havoc, my younger sister, Aline and I were at home alone. Mom and Dad had gone somewhere, can't remember where now. I heard the chickens raise a raucous. The only thing that I could think of that would bother the hens in the hen house was an animal of some sort that had gotten into the hen house. I ran out of the house and across the yard to where the hen house was and opened the door. As I looked inside I saw the weasel, it looked at me and I looked at it and I screamed at it. Somewhere along the way I had picked up a stick of some kind, can't think what it was anymore. Chickens squawked, the weasel snarled, I was screaming at it and with all the commotion, it took off at a fast pace back through the hole it had made.
     I looked around to see what damage this creature  had done. I knew that weasels sucked the blood from animals like a vampire. There the chickens lay, dead and I don't remember how many there was now. I ran back up to the house, grabbed the sleigh went back to the hen house, loaded the sleigh with as many chickens as I could and took them back to the house. Next I grabbed the wheel barrel and away I went, filled it up and back to the house. Can't remember how many were left yet to get.
     I found one of the tubs mom used put it on the stove burners and filled it with water and let it come to steaming hot. Dunking in the chickens, one at a time, I began to strip off the feathers. These chickens were our winter meat, no darn weasel was going to take that away from me. I had stripped about ten of the birds, no insides were taken out as of yet, when my parents walked in the door. After a short period of shock, they let me explain what happened and took over that daunting job of cleaning all those chickens.
     Soon after that event, my father built a new building for them, but it didn't seem to keep them any safer. I was the one that usually picked the eggs at choring time and every so often see mice or rats and at different occasions muskrats. I was more afraid of it than I was of the weasel. Muscrats are terribly vicious when cornered. One time, a wild cat had climbed up into the rafters and it took dad a couple of days to get rid of it, really can't remember now how he did it, but probably shot it. No peace for the farmer its said.

Never Without

My family never did without while growing up. Although we were poor money wise, we were well taken care off.


I had mentioned before in another post about living on the farm. This time I am going to talk about my siblings and I. We had a roof over our heads, and although it didn't have a main heating system, the only time we felt cold was when we jumped out of bed in those wintery shivering mornings. It sure woke us up in a hurray, but it also made us reluctant to climb out of our warm beds. We survived, we learned to dress warm whether we were outside, inside, in bed or even in the car.


Our house was heated with a heater in the living room and the wood stove in the kitchen. To this date, I still feel that warmth that is heated by wood is the warmest heat found. It's far better than oil, coal or even electric heating and I have had all four types of heating in my life time. Okay so electric heating is more constant, but it's still does not have that warm, comfortable, comforting heat that comes from using wood.


Food, a daily need was plentiful. Mother had huge gardens, the garden (called the far garden) usually contained the potatoes and some perennial vegetables mother had. Vegetables such as asparagus, that real hot white radish (don't know the name for it) and a fruit tree or two. In the middle garden were the strawberries, raspberries, gooseberries, plum and apple and crab-apple trees. The front garden or the one nearest the house, held all kinds of other vegetables. Mother used the soapy wash water for the cutworms in the garden along with the ashes from the stove. I learned how to grow vegetables and other things from her.


Every fall as the vegetables ripened, it took the whole family to harvest. Huge boxes, baskets and containers were used to gather the food. The children were then had the chore of shelling the mega amount of peas that were canned, taking ends off from the assortment of beans that were picked and then snapping them in pieces. Cleaning the assortment of berries that were gathered along with the Saskatoon's, pincherries, plums, chokecherries, strawberries, raspberries, blackcurrants, gooseberries, crab-apples and any other fruit that mother may have planted that year. The canned fruit, vegetables, meat and fish, lined the shelves in the basement.
Along with this, we enjoyed all kinds of fruit such as peaches, apricots, pears, and the different types of jam made were very varied.

When the wild berries were ripe, the whole family, except the small children, picked wild fruit. As the younger one grew up, they too had to go 'picking' fruit. With a syrup or peanut butter pail hanging from a belt we challenged each other to see who could pick the most berries. As usual though we also stuffed ourselves silly with all that sweet free fruit. We concluded that if we had to pick, then we would enjoy the fruit as well.

Now one must remember that when your in the bush picking fruit or whatever it was that mother was after, you had to watch where you went.
The terrain was not smooth, there was dips and dives. You could end up in a pool of water, in amongst some ant hills or maybe you ended up near a hornets nest. Don't think that one should be able to see where they are going in a bush, it's not that easy. We had to always call out to each other to make sure we had a sense of direction, it can get real easy to be turned around in a bushy area.

With all of the fruit and vegetables around us we never went hungry. Ate more fruit then than I do now.

Disconcerted

It has been 8 and 1/2 years now and I still miss that old fart, yup, called him that while he was alive too. Although I miss him, I have for the first time, real freedom to do what I want. The freedom of not having to look after someone or something, except the property and at times, yes indeed, it does get lonely.

I do find, however, that the majority of my days are full and every days is passing faster than I care for. Since my health has taken a plunge, it seems to take forever for my health to recover and strange as it may seem, when one area goes haywire the rest of the body says "Hey let me join in. I feel left out". Right and I have no say in the matter it seems.

My last Dr. appointment kind of left me stunned. A possibility of colon cancer. He wants me to have another colon test. How many of those things does it take I wonder. Really though, they must get tired of looking at my bottom.

I was reading one of Erma Bombeck's books and it was absolutely hysterical, how I wish I could write like she does. It's a book worth reading as it brought back so many memories and I was able to link to most of what was wrote. That book I am sure I will read more than once.

Right now (aside from all those tests I am being put through,) I am going to concentrate on the yard sale coming up on May 18. Then I have to dig up the flower bed, it has sure been abused these last couple years with me being not able to care for it.

One of my grandkids was here recently it was such a comfort. they couldn't do enough for me. Such differences in each family unit. I now have six grandsons, (only two are able to carry on the McMurray line), one granddaughter, three great granddaughtes and two great grandsons. The only ones I have not seen except for a couple of pictures is from my granddaughter. Well time will tell, She keeps saying she is coming for a visit but no show as of yet. Regardless I still love them ALL, that will never change.

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.

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.