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".
Saturday, May 22, 2010
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?
Saturday, February 20, 2010
The World on Two Wheels
I have always loved bicycles. It was something that to me, always seemed like my own little bit of freedom. I could get on and ride and ride. It would take me to places known and unknown.
I remember when I got my first new bike. I believe my Grandparents bought it for me. A very shiny red 2-wheeler that rode like a dream. It was smooth riding and had no mechanical problems !! One has to remember that the Village I lived in had no pavement whatsoever. The only pavement was the busy provincial highway that skirted the very outside limits of the Village and we were under very strict instructions not to venture on to it for any reason. Something smooth and level apparently was not a good enough reason to get on it. Oh how I wanted to get on there and experience a ride without running into ruts and gravel furrows !! I cannot say with a straight face that I actually obeyed the rules, as I did take a few spins on the shoulder and yes it was everything I thought it would be !! Smooth and level, I could really crank up my speed and let the wind roar !! It was indeed a rush for a little kid.
As far as bikes go, there is often the odd flat tire and I was really not old enough or smart enough to change out a tube. The tires then came with a tube inside of them and instead of having to change out the tire, you just bought a new tube and inserted it into the tire. Sounds pretty easy, but at the age of 10 or so it was not that easy.
My Grandfather during this time had prostrate cancer. He was not doing well, in fact he was dying. Dying faster then any of us wanted. I remember having a flat tire that I really needed to have fixed so I could go riding with my friends. My Grandfather said he would fix it. I was thrilled. Here was my dying Grandfather, in his pajamas and robe, probably not more then 100 pounds, sitting in his favorite green vinyl recliner rocker in the living room. He took that tire and took it off right there in his living room and put in a new tube and put it back on the rim. I guess I never seen the significance of it at the time, but I sure see it now. A dying man, wanting to instill some pleasure in his Grandchild. An unconditional love and a selfless act. He was in no condition to be doing that, but he wanted to. And he did.
So biking to me is not only a freedom, and a time to get away and think about the things of life, but a time to reflect back on the things that stand the test of time. A time to remember and be thankful for those who came into my life early and gave me something to build upon. One spoke at a time.
I remember when I got my first new bike. I believe my Grandparents bought it for me. A very shiny red 2-wheeler that rode like a dream. It was smooth riding and had no mechanical problems !! One has to remember that the Village I lived in had no pavement whatsoever. The only pavement was the busy provincial highway that skirted the very outside limits of the Village and we were under very strict instructions not to venture on to it for any reason. Something smooth and level apparently was not a good enough reason to get on it. Oh how I wanted to get on there and experience a ride without running into ruts and gravel furrows !! I cannot say with a straight face that I actually obeyed the rules, as I did take a few spins on the shoulder and yes it was everything I thought it would be !! Smooth and level, I could really crank up my speed and let the wind roar !! It was indeed a rush for a little kid.
As far as bikes go, there is often the odd flat tire and I was really not old enough or smart enough to change out a tube. The tires then came with a tube inside of them and instead of having to change out the tire, you just bought a new tube and inserted it into the tire. Sounds pretty easy, but at the age of 10 or so it was not that easy.
My Grandfather during this time had prostrate cancer. He was not doing well, in fact he was dying. Dying faster then any of us wanted. I remember having a flat tire that I really needed to have fixed so I could go riding with my friends. My Grandfather said he would fix it. I was thrilled. Here was my dying Grandfather, in his pajamas and robe, probably not more then 100 pounds, sitting in his favorite green vinyl recliner rocker in the living room. He took that tire and took it off right there in his living room and put in a new tube and put it back on the rim. I guess I never seen the significance of it at the time, but I sure see it now. A dying man, wanting to instill some pleasure in his Grandchild. An unconditional love and a selfless act. He was in no condition to be doing that, but he wanted to. And he did.
So biking to me is not only a freedom, and a time to get away and think about the things of life, but a time to reflect back on the things that stand the test of time. A time to remember and be thankful for those who came into my life early and gave me something to build upon. One spoke at a time.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Real Milk from a Real Man
Coming from the dairy industry, I think I know what milk is all about and what it should consist of. The industry of course, has made countless changes like any other industry in the world today, but basically, the cow still produces the same milk. The same butterfat, the same protein, and the same lactose. Granted there are a few growth hormones thrown in for good measure, but then there are a few extras in everything we consume today.
But really, where has the industry gone wrong? We went from glass to cardboard and then to plastic. What would you rather drink out of? And what will be next?
When I was a kid back on the prairies, the milk man stopped and actually delivered personally, milk in glass bottles. There was the full fat milk which really was milk and not this blue looking skim slop they serve today. And the chocolate milk was incredible. It was rich and dark and it tasted so good. Today it is runny, plastic looking and tasting and has so many extras in it that if I told you them all - you would head right for the commode !!
Down here in the south, the milk does not last. It does not matter what you do, it goes bad before the date that they stamp on it. And really, what does it matter because even if it borders on the good - chances are it will taste like cheap liquid plastic.
Such progress we have made !!!!
But really, where has the industry gone wrong? We went from glass to cardboard and then to plastic. What would you rather drink out of? And what will be next?
When I was a kid back on the prairies, the milk man stopped and actually delivered personally, milk in glass bottles. There was the full fat milk which really was milk and not this blue looking skim slop they serve today. And the chocolate milk was incredible. It was rich and dark and it tasted so good. Today it is runny, plastic looking and tasting and has so many extras in it that if I told you them all - you would head right for the commode !!
Down here in the south, the milk does not last. It does not matter what you do, it goes bad before the date that they stamp on it. And really, what does it matter because even if it borders on the good - chances are it will taste like cheap liquid plastic.
Such progress we have made !!!!
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Fast Food in a Slow World
Everywhere you go today, there are fast food joints everywhere. You can have just about any kind of cholesterol coating, artery clogging junk you could ever wish for. When I was a kid it was not quite so obvious. I never experienced McDonald's until I was 19 and that was in Edmonton.
In the small town I lived in, there was a little gas station cafe that never made that much but they did create really awesome homemade chocolate shakes, that came in the metal stirring jugs that they were whipped in. Thick and cold and full of full fat ice cream, they were absolutely incredible. They did not come with straws but came with long spoons for the great experience of savoring the thick liquid going down a kid's dry parched throat.
Once in a while and I do mean once in awhile ,we would go to Lloydminster which was a city of about 10,000 that straddled the border of Alberta and Saskatchewan. There you could find two favorites, A&W and Kentucky Fried Chicken. Not KFC but Kentucky Fried Chicken. The A&W actually had it so the car hops came out to your vehicle, took your order and then delivered it. Oh it was good. So good that I still love A&W today. Unfortunately or maybe fortunately there are no A&W's down here in the far South. The closet would be Sonic Drive In's which are pretty good. Dad used to buy us something to eat and then would order a gallon of authentic root beer to go. It was a brown glass 1 gallon jug filled with the real root beer that made A&W famous. When you came back, you brought the gallon jug for the deposit and we would get another one. Of course it never lasted !!
That was pretty much the extent of fast food. Everything else was homemade. Real food not fast food.
In the small town I lived in, there was a little gas station cafe that never made that much but they did create really awesome homemade chocolate shakes, that came in the metal stirring jugs that they were whipped in. Thick and cold and full of full fat ice cream, they were absolutely incredible. They did not come with straws but came with long spoons for the great experience of savoring the thick liquid going down a kid's dry parched throat.
Once in a while and I do mean once in awhile ,we would go to Lloydminster which was a city of about 10,000 that straddled the border of Alberta and Saskatchewan. There you could find two favorites, A&W and Kentucky Fried Chicken. Not KFC but Kentucky Fried Chicken. The A&W actually had it so the car hops came out to your vehicle, took your order and then delivered it. Oh it was good. So good that I still love A&W today. Unfortunately or maybe fortunately there are no A&W's down here in the far South. The closet would be Sonic Drive In's which are pretty good. Dad used to buy us something to eat and then would order a gallon of authentic root beer to go. It was a brown glass 1 gallon jug filled with the real root beer that made A&W famous. When you came back, you brought the gallon jug for the deposit and we would get another one. Of course it never lasted !!
That was pretty much the extent of fast food. Everything else was homemade. Real food not fast food.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
The Day The Outhouse Died
When we moved from the farm to Waseca, we still had no services or conveniences for a few years. There was no running water and no indoor plumbing, so of course we still had to make the journey out to the little building in the back yard. Every back yard had these little creations, basically a small shack over a deep hole. I never liked the little shacks. They were not very hospitable to us, and they were an awful place to go to in the cold of the winter and the heat of the summer.
I am not saying I was a daredevil kid, but I did have my times of stupidity I am sure. Although not exactly impulsive, I wondered about a lot of things. One of the things I wondered about was what would happen if I were to throw a lit match down the open hole of the outhouse. Now under most circumstances, it should just fizzle out and that would be it. And that is exactly what happened to the first 100 lit matches that I threw down that hole !! I had one of those large eddy box of matches that holds at least a couple of hundred wooden matches. One after another I threw them down there, watching them burn out.
I was not prepared for match 101 but I dropped that lit match, it caught on some toilet tissue, sucked in some quality methane gas, and the entire hole exploded into flames. I believe I was in shock, excited that the experiment worked but wondering where it would end. The fire was so intense that it eventually engulfed the whole outhouse, letting everyone know that I was dissatisfied with it.
I ran to the house, and somehow we got some pails of water poured on it to prevent the fire from burring the whole house, garage and yard. I was the least popular person around the house. I don't remember being drawn and quartered but I had in effect shut down the family bathroom. A great start to Waseca living. Maybe why I am such a bathroom connoisseur today !!
I am not saying I was a daredevil kid, but I did have my times of stupidity I am sure. Although not exactly impulsive, I wondered about a lot of things. One of the things I wondered about was what would happen if I were to throw a lit match down the open hole of the outhouse. Now under most circumstances, it should just fizzle out and that would be it. And that is exactly what happened to the first 100 lit matches that I threw down that hole !! I had one of those large eddy box of matches that holds at least a couple of hundred wooden matches. One after another I threw them down there, watching them burn out.
I was not prepared for match 101 but I dropped that lit match, it caught on some toilet tissue, sucked in some quality methane gas, and the entire hole exploded into flames. I believe I was in shock, excited that the experiment worked but wondering where it would end. The fire was so intense that it eventually engulfed the whole outhouse, letting everyone know that I was dissatisfied with it.
I ran to the house, and somehow we got some pails of water poured on it to prevent the fire from burring the whole house, garage and yard. I was the least popular person around the house. I don't remember being drawn and quartered but I had in effect shut down the family bathroom. A great start to Waseca living. Maybe why I am such a bathroom connoisseur today !!
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