Village Squire, 1977-05, Page 22watched as the velvet petals, loaded with silver drops, bowed
their heads.
During this time I had asked Grandfather endless questions
about the rain which he had carefully answered, satisfying my
curiosity. The rain continued and Grandmother, at the open
screen called us both in. Mother knew where I was. If I wasn't
at home I was usually with my Grandparents. My stool was a
permanent fixture at their extended home-made pine table.
Frequently, I managed to have meals at both places. When
my appetite at home seemed to have failed me, it was an
obvious conclusion that I had eaten elsewhere.
Psychologists today would frown on the situation I grew up
in and declare it a very bad environment for the development
of a child. When I was scolded or reprimanded at home, I fled
to my haven in the white brick house. Grandmother dried my
tears, gave me a fresh scone, spread generously with apple
butter and tucked me into a down comforter on the couch for
my nap. 1 awoke, forgetting why I was there and while
Grandmother was at the henhouse gathering the eggs, I
rushed home to my parents in time for supper.
There were shared happy times when Grandmother and
Mother did their mending together under the trees, while I
lay swinging in the barrel -stave hammock between the same
two trees. I listened to their plans for a project they were
planning together. Perhaps they would render the lard and
fry the side -pork for the crocks and jars, on the old range in
Grandmother's back shed. Perhaps, they would bleach the
flour and sugar sacks with the lye soap in our back yard. Or,
maybe they would put the quilt into the frames and have Aunt
Annie and Mary Etta in to help quilt under the trees. That
was the most fun. I could serve lemonade and need not worry
about spills on the earthen floor.
Helping Grandfather gather the eggs taught me to count,
also learn the number pictures for the nests contained groups
from one to eight. On our long back step Grandfather divided
the eggs equally between the two households. That was how I
learned to divide by two and to understand what a half meant.
Long before I started to school 1 went down our long lane to
get the mail. 1 suspect mail -time, around four o'clock was an
event I looked forward to; the same as I did egg -gathering and
milking time. Grandfather had built a wooden step for me
under the mail box at the road. He was careful to put it in far
enough so the mailman's horse wouldn't trip over it and
where I could safely climb to see inside the box. Grandfather
subscribed to the Mail and Empire, but my Father's paper
was the Globe and Mail. As 1 proudly delivered them to their
rightful owner, my Grandfather boasted to everyone what a
smart granddaughter he had. I know now that 1 must have
associated the different letter shapes of the paper heading
with their owner.
Each season's activities was a fun experience to me.
Springtime brought the washing and shearing of our flock of
sheep. First, I helped drive them to the river for their annual
wash. Flossie, our old collie dog was the sheep mistress.
Never did one go astray, nor never did one become nervous or
upset. The Iambs went along for the fun, like I did. Usually I
had acquired two or three pets by this time. In the lambing
season those who had needed special care and the warmth of
a box behind the kitchen stove soon became permanent pets,
who deserted the flock to romp with me. Shearing time was
followed by a great deal of bleating. Naked ewes felt the loss
of their fleece and bleating lambs needed reassurance that
these nude creatures were actually their mothers.
Perhaps, the highlight of the whole occasion was when I
was allowed to accompany my Grandparents in the model T
Ford, loaded with the wool, to Benmiller, to be sold there to
the woollen mill. As I anticipated that journey, I was sure it
was at least the other side of the world. 1 still remember the
big looms as the shuttle wove back and forth; the smell of
sheep wool and the trip to the little waterfall near by.
Grandfather never took cash for the wool. He always said that
wool was meant to clothe his family. This is where
Grandmother entered the picture. She chose a blanket for
20, VILLAGE SQUIRE/MAY 1977.
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