The Rural Voice, 1989-08, Page 30THRESHING!
Remembering the mystery and adventure of every-
day life on the farm — as only a farm kid could
Threshing day!
!
Those hallowed words of my boy-
hood! And no farmer in our part of
the country called it anything but
"thrashing" day. It was years later
that I learned the way the word was
spelled.
Threshing day! The anticipation
grew for days ahead as Dad began
disappearing after morning chores
with our horses and wagon to play his
part in the threshing ring. Mother and
Aunt Mabel began to talk about what
would be served for dinner and, more
importantly, how many days of din-
ners there would be. They complained
that Ethel or Mary had served just too
many desserts or meats and vowed
that they would not compete with it.
And sometimes we would have to
help Dad do extra work in the eve-
nings to be sure that all our grain was
shocked and ready. The sheaves left
by the grain binder had to be built into
by David Phillips
cones of 15 to 20 sheaves standing on
end, called "shocks." (No one in our
area had ever heard of "stooks.")
We built round shocks with a cap
sheaf on top, although I had seen the
kind shaped like the peaked roof of a
barn, too. And the shocks had better
be in straight lines, so that the thresh-
ing wagons didn't have to weave in
and out to load them.
Eventually, at supper, Dad would
begin making his predictions as to
what day the threshing machine would
come to our place. And later, he
would try to predict what time of day
(this could be important for Mother
and Aunt Mabel and their meal plans).
We boys hung on every word. It
wasn't just the dinners we were
looking forward to — although they
were worthy of it — but the arrival of
the great, beautiful machines, the
teams of handsome horses, and the
wise -cracking, sweat -smelling men.
If possible, Albert Irwin, who
owned the threshing rig, tried to avoid
Public Archives Canada
a move from one farm to another
during the work day. It wasted
possibly two hours. And what were
the eight or nine farmers with their
waiting teams and wagons, who made
up the threshing ring, to do in the
meantime? And who would provide
the meal? Sometimes he would make
the move during the evening to be
ready to start at the new farm first
thing in the morning.
After supper on the eve of the big
day, we boys would hang around the
yard, swinging on gates and trying to
see down the sideroad to the main
road half a mile away. If the evening
was still, we would hear it first, and
confirm it by a trip to the road. We
couldn't wait; we would run part way
down the road to walk beside Albert,
his tractor, and the huge machine
leaving deep marks in the gravel.
I believe that Albert's rig was a
good one for that day, quite new and
in mint condition. Certainly it
impressed us. I remember that the
28 THE RURAL VOICE