It was embarrassing to see that it has almost been 3 years since the last post. That is hardly what a blog is supposed to be about and I am going to try and be better. I mean, I don't even have to do much to be better - that is pretty obvious. But I am going to give it a better effort for sure.
Today is December 24th, Christmas Eve and I think it would be fitting to talk about what Christmas Eve meant living on the prairies in Saskatchewan. Although we were not an affluent family, we always had clothes and food. So in that context, we definitely were well off. One of the things that was really a hit around Christmas time was Japanese oranges. Or as we called them, Christmas oranges. They came out about the 15th of November and we were usually able to purchase them until January. They were sweet, very easy to peel and tasted absolutely delicious. There was no doubt that us kids loved them. We would search the house looking for these oranges, as they had to be hid and rationed, otherwise they would be gone in a day or two. They came in 8 pound wooden crates, and each orange was wrapped in green tissue like paper to prevent bruising on the travel over. A hammer and or screwdriver was needed to remove the top and gain access to the delicious treats inside. I personally scoured the house looking for them, usually finding them under a bed or buried in a closet. I was really good at removing the top, pulling a few out and replacing it as neat as can be. There was the odd time when Dad would say - I swear they reduce the amount of the oranges every year...
I don't think Christmas has changed that much as far as gifts are concerned, because it was a time to get new clothes. But kids that are young really aren't interested in clothes, they want toys. Every year, we would get the wish book. Everyone knows what the wish book was. Eaton's specialized catalogue at Christmas time that showcased all the gifts a person could ever want for. In a way, it was an evil magazine that taunted the kids, showing fun and elaborate toys that one could never ever receive. Fancy remote control train sets, 10 foot toboggans, race car sets, and for the really privileged, remote controlled cars that you could actually sit in!!
I was very happy to receive skates, hockey stick and equipment. A fast sled or toboggan was great. Those were things that created enjoyment, and kept us healthy.
Friday, August 10, 2018
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Uphill Both Ways

The past few years living here in the South, it has become very evident that not only do they not know what snow is, but they have no idea how to handle its effects when a little shows up. There is somewhat of a paranoia hysteria attached to the weather in this area, probably because the weather is fairly stable overall. When there is a hint of snow, preparations are made to basically shut the region down. And shut down they do !!

When I was a kid and it snowed in Waseca, it snowed. Boy did it snow, and did it blow. We regularly got prairie blizzards that created huge snowdrifts and bitter cold arctic temperatures that really made you sit up and pay attention. Did the buses run? Most times they did, and on the rare occasions that they didn't, the schools remained open. So what did the kids do? We walked to school like we always did. One foot ahead of the other, cold and breaking through the drifts, we did what we always did. Climate conditions only stalled us, they never defeated us. There were no snow days, or make up days - there were just school days. There were no temperature restrictions on when we went out at recess. When it was recess, we went outside no matter what temperature it was because that was just the way it was. There were no crybaby's in the crowd. There were no over protective parents lined up at the principals office. There were no SUV's lined up to pick up little precious. We just did what we normally did and were never the worse for wear.
It is of course, different today. I believe it is a combination of soft kids, wussy parents, a lazy society and a finger trigger suit mentality that prevails. It is sad. The new generation will never be as tough and as hardened to handle the hardships, that will undoubtedly come their way. An inch of snow on the road that shuts down life, is only a bad omen of things to come. I do hope however, that somehow someone will come to their senses and realize that this way of life only restricts and holds back the resilient spirit that we are all born with. We can do anything and that might even mean, walking uphill both ways.
Saturday, October 2, 2010
The Pet Pest
Most kids have a pet at one time in their life, be it a dog or a cat or some crawly type creature. I think what I had was rather unusual. I had a pet crow. Now this is something that you wouldn't normally have, but when you lived on the prairies, nothing is really normal when you think about it in today's terms. We had gone to a church convention on the other side of the province. While some of us kids were exploring the regions of the farm that we were camping at, we stumbled across a nest that had a baby crow in it. It appeared at least to us, that the mother had abandoned this baby crow and it needed our attention. With some cajoling and promising, we convinced Dad to let us take it home. So off we went. Stopping every so often so that we could clean up the bird poop and feed it small pieces of raw meat, and use an eye dropper to give it water.
The crow with the really unique name of Caw Caw, lived in the garage. It ate raw meat and learned how to drink water out of a bowl. This crow grew to be quite big but had no idea how to really fit in with nature. It flew away but always came back. It would ride on my shoulder as I rode my bike. When I rode down to the Post Office to get the mail, it would fly to the top of the building and when I came out, it would fly back to my shoulder. This was pretty cool. You always hoped though, that it went to the bathroom prior to the ride.
After awhile, it seemed its incessant cawing became a real thorn in the side to our elderly next door neighbor. He threw rocks at it and Caw Caw actually knew the hatred that the old man had towards it. It mastered the art of dive bombing this old man and he was furious. It did not help that the old man's son was also the mayor of the Village. Yes, you guessed it. Caw Caw needed to be taken to the wild and live off of road kill.
One afternoon we packed Caw Caw up and took him way out into the country. He/she spread its wings and made a freedom fly and we got in the truck and drove away fast so it could not come near the vehicle.
For many months after, every time I heard a crow caw I wondered if it was Caw Caw. I even called them to see if they would land. But that day never came. Even to this day, every time I hear a crow caw, I think of Caw Caw and wondered what ever to that spoiled bird that thought it was human.
The crow with the really unique name of Caw Caw, lived in the garage. It ate raw meat and learned how to drink water out of a bowl. This crow grew to be quite big but had no idea how to really fit in with nature. It flew away but always came back. It would ride on my shoulder as I rode my bike. When I rode down to the Post Office to get the mail, it would fly to the top of the building and when I came out, it would fly back to my shoulder. This was pretty cool. You always hoped though, that it went to the bathroom prior to the ride.
After awhile, it seemed its incessant cawing became a real thorn in the side to our elderly next door neighbor. He threw rocks at it and Caw Caw actually knew the hatred that the old man had towards it. It mastered the art of dive bombing this old man and he was furious. It did not help that the old man's son was also the mayor of the Village. Yes, you guessed it. Caw Caw needed to be taken to the wild and live off of road kill.
One afternoon we packed Caw Caw up and took him way out into the country. He/she spread its wings and made a freedom fly and we got in the truck and drove away fast so it could not come near the vehicle.
For many months after, every time I heard a crow caw I wondered if it was Caw Caw. I even called them to see if they would land. But that day never came. Even to this day, every time I hear a crow caw, I think of Caw Caw and wondered what ever to that spoiled bird that thought it was human.

Saturday, July 10, 2010
More Work Please
The world has certainly changed as we know it. Now before you go off saying it is an old man looking far back, consider some of the things that have to be noticeable to all that have their eyes open.
Living back on the Canadian prairie, there were no McDonald's for a kid to work at. There were no pizza shops or sign holding jobs to obtain. There were no paper routes, or store shelves to stock. There were just mundane things for a kid to do.
The mundane things were things such as neighbors that needed their grass cut, their snow shovelled, and their gardens rototilled. Even on the edge of town, there was a farmer who needed his pig pens shovelled out. There was work, lots of it. It was hard work and it payed poorly - but it was work. I did all of the above. I cut grass with our old push mower. I suppose I was around 12 years of age or so. Down the street I would go pushing the mower with a gas can tied on the side looking for business. Most summers were hot and that was the time to make some money, because no allowances were ever given. Some days I would drive the rototiller down the road, well not drive I had to walk behind it because someone needed their gardens tilled to keep the weeds down amongst the rows. When that work ran out, it was over to the farmer's pig pens. For any kids complaining about standing behind the counter and asking if you want fries with that, I challenge you to a hot afternoon, cooped up with large dirty pigs and shovelling some of the most disgusting debris you will ever see, Hot, heavy and smelly - but it was a way to make money.
And what do we have today? Where I live, the illegals cut every one's grass. The paper routes are done by adults in cars, who throw papers over the roof to land somewhere in the vicinity of the intended yard. There are no gardens to speak of. The odd plant here and there, but nothing of significance and certainly nothing to sustain people in times of need.
The point is, we have nothing any more for the kids in that 12 - 16 age group. They have video games and computers and such but they have nothing out there, that teaches them how to make a dollar and how to learn the aspects of building a foundation of job functions for the future.
I could go on politically about what could change but that is not what this column is about. Those early jobs that I was able to do, helped me understand that if you want to survive, you had to work. That concept has not failed me yet, and I hope that the future generations will also have something that will teach them the value of job integrity and that it will be their foundation to a more secure future.
Living back on the Canadian prairie, there were no McDonald's for a kid to work at. There were no pizza shops or sign holding jobs to obtain. There were no paper routes, or store shelves to stock. There were just mundane things for a kid to do.
The mundane things were things such as neighbors that needed their grass cut, their snow shovelled, and their gardens rototilled. Even on the edge of town, there was a farmer who needed his pig pens shovelled out. There was work, lots of it. It was hard work and it payed poorly - but it was work. I did all of the above. I cut grass with our old push mower. I suppose I was around 12 years of age or so. Down the street I would go pushing the mower with a gas can tied on the side looking for business. Most summers were hot and that was the time to make some money, because no allowances were ever given. Some days I would drive the rototiller down the road, well not drive I had to walk behind it because someone needed their gardens tilled to keep the weeds down amongst the rows. When that work ran out, it was over to the farmer's pig pens. For any kids complaining about standing behind the counter and asking if you want fries with that, I challenge you to a hot afternoon, cooped up with large dirty pigs and shovelling some of the most disgusting debris you will ever see, Hot, heavy and smelly - but it was a way to make money.
And what do we have today? Where I live, the illegals cut every one's grass. The paper routes are done by adults in cars, who throw papers over the roof to land somewhere in the vicinity of the intended yard. There are no gardens to speak of. The odd plant here and there, but nothing of significance and certainly nothing to sustain people in times of need.
The point is, we have nothing any more for the kids in that 12 - 16 age group. They have video games and computers and such but they have nothing out there, that teaches them how to make a dollar and how to learn the aspects of building a foundation of job functions for the future.
I could go on politically about what could change but that is not what this column is about. Those early jobs that I was able to do, helped me understand that if you want to survive, you had to work. That concept has not failed me yet, and I hope that the future generations will also have something that will teach them the value of job integrity and that it will be their foundation to a more secure future.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
School's Out
Now that school is out in our neck of the woods, my thoughts turned to how different it is today for kids going to school then when I went. I am convinced in looking at Grade 5 homework this past year, that it has started to be taught earlier or I am getting old and dumb. If this keeps up, I am going to be completely lost in another year.
I really don't want this to sound like "when I went to school", however when I went to school it was like this:
1. We had Physical Education every day. No fat kids walking around.
2. We actually had recess which meant that you hauled your butt outside and got some exercise. Cold weather or hot weather.
3. We did not have a fancy gymnasium, we had the Saskatchewan outdoors and it big and it was cold.
4. We did not have a cafeteria. We had something called brown bag lunches with tuna and Ritz crackers.
5. We did not have breakfast programs. We ate breakfast at home.
6. We did not have field trips. If we were to discover something, we discovered it on our own playing outside.
7. We did not have buses. We actually walked to school like the rest of the Village kids.
8. We did not have in school suspensions. We were disciplined by the Principal with a canvas strap.
9. We actually cleaned our own blackboards, chalk brushes, and emptied garbage pails and pencil sharpeners.
10. We knew if we were in trouble with the teacher, that we would also be in trouble with our parents.
11. We never brought a huge bag of supplies to school each year, our taxes paid for the necessities.
12. We never had parents cars lined up to pick us up, we walked home the same way we walked to school.
13. We never had a lot of homework, we actually went to school long enough in the day to finish what was needed.
14. We never had a band. We had a flutophone that we played "Three Blind Mice" on.
15. We never had a club to go to. That was what tree houses were for.
16. We never got participaction ribbons at the annual field day. We got either first, second, or third. Otherwise you went home empty handed.
17. We did not worry about being progressive. We recited the Lord's prayer, sang O'Canada in the morning, and sang God Save the Queen before we went home.
18. We never had a hallway pass. There were no hallways.
19. We never had some group school desk thing. The desks were in a line in a row.
20. We never had nap time, even in Kindergarten. We were there to learn and have some fun. Sleeping was what you did at home.
So the question is, were we better then in those days, then kids are today? Probably not, but I do know one thing. We never knew what we were missing, even if we were missing something. We grew to be strong and I think tough, and it was a good thing because we had no idea what the world was going to deliver our way. I have to go now, I hear the "bell".
I really don't want this to sound like "when I went to school", however when I went to school it was like this:
1. We had Physical Education every day. No fat kids walking around.
2. We actually had recess which meant that you hauled your butt outside and got some exercise. Cold weather or hot weather.
3. We did not have a fancy gymnasium, we had the Saskatchewan outdoors and it big and it was cold.
4. We did not have a cafeteria. We had something called brown bag lunches with tuna and Ritz crackers.
5. We did not have breakfast programs. We ate breakfast at home.
6. We did not have field trips. If we were to discover something, we discovered it on our own playing outside.
7. We did not have buses. We actually walked to school like the rest of the Village kids.
8. We did not have in school suspensions. We were disciplined by the Principal with a canvas strap.
9. We actually cleaned our own blackboards, chalk brushes, and emptied garbage pails and pencil sharpeners.
10. We knew if we were in trouble with the teacher, that we would also be in trouble with our parents.
11. We never brought a huge bag of supplies to school each year, our taxes paid for the necessities.
12. We never had parents cars lined up to pick us up, we walked home the same way we walked to school.
13. We never had a lot of homework, we actually went to school long enough in the day to finish what was needed.
14. We never had a band. We had a flutophone that we played "Three Blind Mice" on.
15. We never had a club to go to. That was what tree houses were for.
16. We never got participaction ribbons at the annual field day. We got either first, second, or third. Otherwise you went home empty handed.
17. We did not worry about being progressive. We recited the Lord's prayer, sang O'Canada in the morning, and sang God Save the Queen before we went home.
18. We never had a hallway pass. There were no hallways.
19. We never had some group school desk thing. The desks were in a line in a row.
20. We never had nap time, even in Kindergarten. We were there to learn and have some fun. Sleeping was what you did at home.
So the question is, were we better then in those days, then kids are today? Probably not, but I do know one thing. We never knew what we were missing, even if we were missing something. We grew to be strong and I think tough, and it was a good thing because we had no idea what the world was going to deliver our way. I have to go now, I hear the "bell".
Saturday, April 17, 2010
The Price of Junk
I have no problem admitting that I am a complete junk food addict. A day is not complete without candy of some sort. As I get older, I find that I am not even as fussy as I used to be. I will eat almost anything as long as it is technically called junk food. What an oxymoron when you think of it. Junk and food really do not belong in the same sentence.
We had lots of access to junk food when we were growing up. In my previous post you found out how much I like licorice. Of course that was only the beginning. I loved chocolate bars and chips and pop, so there was never any problem getting our hands on that stuff. The local Co-op grocery store did a pretty good job keeping everything in stock.
Hard to believe, but a quarter would buy you a good size bag of chips, a chocolate bar and a bottle of pop. Now I know a quarter was a lot in those days, but to be honest, that was a nice shot of junk food. We always knew to dig in the couch cushions for any spare change that might of fell out of Dad's pants when he took a nap.
Here in 2010, it takes a good 5 dollar bill to really get the sugar and salt buzz that I need. Health wise, I have had to slow down. But every time I put a chip in my mouth, I never forget where my roots came from. The candy selection at the Co-op store in Waseca.
We had lots of access to junk food when we were growing up. In my previous post you found out how much I like licorice. Of course that was only the beginning. I loved chocolate bars and chips and pop, so there was never any problem getting our hands on that stuff. The local Co-op grocery store did a pretty good job keeping everything in stock.
Hard to believe, but a quarter would buy you a good size bag of chips, a chocolate bar and a bottle of pop. Now I know a quarter was a lot in those days, but to be honest, that was a nice shot of junk food. We always knew to dig in the couch cushions for any spare change that might of fell out of Dad's pants when he took a nap.
Here in 2010, it takes a good 5 dollar bill to really get the sugar and salt buzz that I need. Health wise, I have had to slow down. But every time I put a chip in my mouth, I never forget where my roots came from. The candy selection at the Co-op store in Waseca.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Shoestring High
Anyone that knows me, knows that I have an addiction with shoe string licorice laces. As far back as I can remember I have. Although I had my favorite, which was green spearmint, I also never turned away black, red and purple. Unfortunately living in the States, there is no access to this delightful and delectable treat so I have to be satisified in bringing back rather large amounts of it when I return to Canada every year. I have been known to bring back several bags and most people do not get why I would do such a thing, but it is mainly a treat that I enjoyed when I was growing up.
Living in Waseca, it was not like you could actually go to the neighborhood store and buy what you want. There was only to 2 places in the Village that you could actually buy junk food and that was the Coop grocery store and other place was the Poolroom. No idea what the business was really called but a family of French immigrants owned it Their name was Gagnon. The Poolroom was a business that had several pool tables in it, a barbers chair and a nice selection of candy. It helped that it was only across the train tracks from the school, making it really handy to tend to the desire of licorice. When it was lunch hour, we were able to go wherever we wanted and most times it was to the Poolroom to get more licorice.
When I first started buying it, you could get 2 long laces for a penny. The shoestring laces hung over a bar in a cabinet and they just pulled them off, counted them up and put them in a nice brown paper bag, just like the alcohol ! So 50 cents gave you 100 hundred laces that you could Overdose on. Today, if you can find them, it will cost you over 2 bucks for perhaps 20. Not sure how many are in a bag but not nearly enough. What a high !! So good and so bad for you.
I have to admit, I was hooked on them and have been ever since. Maybe it is a good job that I cannot get them anymore except once a year. I mean, after all - one does not want to go down in history as dieing from a licorice overdose. Or do they?
Living in Waseca, it was not like you could actually go to the neighborhood store and buy what you want. There was only to 2 places in the Village that you could actually buy junk food and that was the Coop grocery store and other place was the Poolroom. No idea what the business was really called but a family of French immigrants owned it Their name was Gagnon. The Poolroom was a business that had several pool tables in it, a barbers chair and a nice selection of candy. It helped that it was only across the train tracks from the school, making it really handy to tend to the desire of licorice. When it was lunch hour, we were able to go wherever we wanted and most times it was to the Poolroom to get more licorice.
When I first started buying it, you could get 2 long laces for a penny. The shoestring laces hung over a bar in a cabinet and they just pulled them off, counted them up and put them in a nice brown paper bag, just like the alcohol ! So 50 cents gave you 100 hundred laces that you could Overdose on. Today, if you can find them, it will cost you over 2 bucks for perhaps 20. Not sure how many are in a bag but not nearly enough. What a high !! So good and so bad for you.
I have to admit, I was hooked on them and have been ever since. Maybe it is a good job that I cannot get them anymore except once a year. I mean, after all - one does not want to go down in history as dieing from a licorice overdose. Or do they?
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