happiness

In Grandma’s Words part 7 (FGK-69)

I appreciate how much of today’s story involves the intricate description of food. I find when I’m describing places I’ve been or experiences I’ve had, it usually starts with “remember that time we went to Virginia Beach and our hotel was across from Ben and Jerry’s and we ate ice cream for breakfast”. Or “I really miss living in St. Lazare, the goat cheese sandwiches at Anise et Marjolaine were divine”. Basically I’m either eating, planning what to eat, or thinking about what I just ate. Grandma’s cake was one of my top favourite treats and I was delighted to find that the bakery in our grocery store in Quebec sold a very similar one (did I mention how great the food was when we lived in Quebec?)

The path down the hill to Uncle Jack’s (Kumlin’s now) may not be as well worn, but visiting with them still is something that I always enjoy. When I was a kid the path was used regularly as I’d take off on my pony for quiet rides along the creek by their place.

Percy was secretary for the hall for many, many years. Margy, his sister, got married later in the year to Jack C. Buckley of Springbank. I was immediately put on sandwich making committee for the hall dances. We would order twelve or fourteen sandwich loaves unsliced and slice them very thin. Two lbs butter warmed to soft consistency to spread easy. Ham bought then sliced very thin at the butcher shop and about four large tins of salmon mixed with a little homemade salad dressing. The sandwiches were really good but the cakes everyone brought to the dances were just scrumptious. A favourite was one Nan Copithorne used to make – a big plane white cake with white icing covered with toasted almonds. Everyone seemed to be such a good cook what a goal I had to set myself! It wasn’t easy, but before long I had mastered a few good recipes too. It was so nice having Archie McLean taking full charge of the kitchen and making such delicious coffee in the two big copper boilers. He also cleaned the hall and all for only five dollars a night.

Aunt Ada (Mrs Jimmie Nicoll) always wore a million dollar smile and she had the art of meeting everyone at the dances and making them feel especially welcome. It was nice always having a floor manager – announcing each dance etc. They always had one moonlight waltz and when the evening was over they would dance the to the song “Home Sweet Home” and everyone sang it. Usually the ladies wore big ball gowns even though it was the dirty 30s. Our hall was beautiful with dozens of Japanese lanterns and balloons hung from the ceiling. We had a pretty good orchestra too, but Percy played the violin and that meant I had to sit out a lot of dances.

Like Wordsworth’s description of Hiawatha’s friends “Straightway ran the path between them, never grew the grass upon it” <it’s actually Straight between them ran the pathway, Never grew the grass upon it”, but I googled and I’m betting Grandma wrote that from memory>, the path between me and Jack Copithorne’s and Nicoll’s was certainly well worn. We seemed to meet at least once a week for tea, and always walked, as it didn’t seem far. Aunt Ada was an exceptionally fine cook, her lemon jelly rolls and hot biscuits just make my mouth water to think of them. Nan Copithorne was always sewing and redecorating. I remember one time she decided to paint her long dining room in red and pink. We were all quite horrified, just couldn’t imagine anything pleasant about that combination. When she was finished she had us down for tea and were we ever surprised! It was beautiful! We learned that tones and shades made all the different effects. Nan’s homemade bread was superb. For tea in June she would often serve strawberries, rich yellow cream, fresh bread and fresh homemade butter.

But the laughter and gaiety of these gatherings out shone any food you could mention. Everyone had such a crew of young men working for them and everyone home a girl to help too and they were all like one big happy family. They just made their own fun to compensate for the hard work.

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happiness

In Grandma’s words part 6 (FGK 68)

Grandma told me the story of Grandpa flying through the freshly wallpapered room once when I was a teenager. I’m so glad the full account is here because while I was sure I’d remember it, I forgot some of the details. I had to google “Shivaree” and it indeed is a word, here’s the definition: a noisy mock serenade performed by a group of people to celebrate a marriage or mock an unpopular person.

There were dry years and poor crops and I worked in Broughts cafe one summer holiday. Then later Mrs Allan asked me if I would help her in the busy summer months and it was like home to me to be with her. I took my grade eleven in south Calgary High School and decided to work steady with Mrs Allan before completing my grade twelve and going to Normal School. Ruth married Edgar Davies in 1927 and I rented a room from them while I worked for Mrs Allan. Then Percy Copithorne asked me to go with him to a dance in Jumping Pound Hall one day and we continued to go steady for over two years. We were married in Nov 1931 and so a whole new chapter of my life was started.

Percy and I married Nov 1931 in Knox United Church in Calgary. Jean Russell was my bridesmaid and Frank Copithorne, Percy’s brother, was his best man. We went to the coast for our honeymoon. Frank and Percy dug the basement for our cottage, then Mr. Frank Fletcher from Cochrane helped Percy build the cottage. We were fortunate to have natural gas in it right from the start. It was quite a change after my busy life in the store. The cottage seemed quiet and empty but I had wonderful neighbours who made up for that. First they shivareed us one evening. There must hav been at least fifty people crowded into our small house and they brought music and lunch and danced until the small hours of the morning. Fortunately we hadn’t finished the floors or the walls. There were heel marks half-way up the wall where they swung the ladies in the square dances. It was all great fun. Someone kicked the middle leg off our new chesterfield but we put it back on and that chesterfield is still in constant use 44 years later.

Then the community had a dance in the hall as they did in those days honouring every bride and groom of the district. They presented us with a lovely silver carving set and cake server.

Well we sure aimed to spruce up that cottage cute too. It was all shingles outside and wall board inside. I really don’t think any newlyweds should ever do their own decorating. We were so dumb and green about the job and choose the hardest wallpaper to match etc and just didn’t have a clue how to do it. Our ceilings are high and we thought it would look smart to have a drop ceiling. Percy brought in the sawhorses and put loose planks on them. We tried to put the paper up to the ceiling, across and down the drop on the other side of the room. What a smozzle. There was always one end of that long slimy wet roll of ceiling paper dropping off just when you had the other end all neatly stuck on. Then when you ran to grab it, the loose planks would upend and away went the paper hanger or the glue or both. It just wasn’t funny. Of course we were dumb enough to start in the living room and do all our practicing there. But when it was done it all looked lovely.

Then Percy decided his job was outside staining the shingles. He made himself a scaffold to stand on and one nice day when I had the front door open and I was in the pantry peeling onions with tears rolling down my cheeks from that job, his scaffold broke and he took a nosedive right in the front door. He brought his pail of brown shingle stain in with him and splashed it all over one wall of the newly papered living room.

I ran to see if he was hurt and was so relieved to se he wasn’t but when he saw my tear stained face he said “Good grief, you don’t need to cry about it.” I assured him I wasn’t crying, I was only peeling onions and he wasn’t’ so pleased about that either. Then we both saw the wall and I think we both felt like really crying.

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happiness

In Grandma’s Words part 5 (FGK 67)

It’s easy to get lost in the nostalgia of the “olden days” (my kids now refer to the ‘80s as the “olden days” and that just seems wrong, but I digress), but it’s easy to forget how different it was for women back then. Even now in 2021 as a solo parent there are challenges that I face because I am a woman that I would not if there was a man living here. However, there are also certain benefits I receive for the exact same reason. The narrow line I try to walk is accepting the help I truly need while not taking on the role of “helpless woman” (which can be tempting). I am lucky because I have kids who help out, and my extended family (thanks guys) who step in whenever I really need anything. Figuring out how things work in this old house is a constant challenge. Nothing says an adventure like heading into the basement of a house that was put together by old ranchers who knew how everything worked, but who didn’t build things in the same way that the professionals would have . To their credit, this place is coming up on 90 years and it’s still standing so they must have known what they were doing!!! I added the Flapper’s Prayer and the Lawyer’s Advice in grandma’s handwriting, because if I hadn’t seen that she had copied these poems in her own handwriting I never would have believed it.

I sold gold cross(?) garden seeds to the neighbours and got a beautiful violin from the company. The seeds were really good and grew well but I have my doubts about the violin. Anyway I took lessons from Mrs Easton in Cochrane and conned Ruth into playing those terrible scales on the piano so that I could follow in tune. I loved the violin and still do. Alex Beadle took violin lessons from Mrs Easton too and once we had to play a duet at a concert in Cochrane. I shudder yet when I think of the awful squawks I got out of that instrument. But the Chautauqua that used to come to Cochrane were wonderful. They really were an inspiration. Then came the radio. And Oh My! It was wonderful. We got Philip Aries to make a crystal set and we would sit there just enthralled. And dear help anyone who walked across the floor and jiggled the needle off the crystal. I still think it’s magic that a thing delicate little thread of wire touching a piece of crystal rock could connect us to the world. Cochrane had an active minstrel show every winter for many years. We always looked forward to that. They used local talent and were popular in all the neighbouring towns too.

High school was fun but hard work too. We had a young-people’s group called the Rustler’s Club. At that time the Russell hotel had no bar, a lovely dining room and very nice people named the Dickenson’s running it. They allowed our group to meet and dance to their big gramophone on Friday evenings. The dining room was closed to the public and made a grand club-room for us. The teachers joined too. It was very enjoyable, and it gave us a chance to learn to dance. We also had a high school orchestra about that time and it was great fun.

Flapper’s Prayer

I want the lights that brightly shine, the big strong men, the taste of wine. I long for the fun without the price, I want to be naughty and yet be nice. I want the thrill of a first long kiss, I want the things that other girls miss. I want the arms and the heart of a man, yet be single if I can. So as a lawyer gave me advice on how to be naughty and yet be nice. I want to do as other girls do, tease and cuddle and trill and coo. Blacken my eyes and powder my nose, shorten my skirts and roll my hose. Drive a little and shimmy a lot and park my corsets when the weather gets hot. ride and swim, golf and skate. Take the fence instead of the gate. Break all records, all but one. Be good and true when the game is done. I don’t like pepper, but I do like spice. I want to be naughty and yet be nice.

Lawyer’s Advice

The advice I give is long and true, for you can’t eat your pie and have it too. If you want the men and want the wine you must pay the price while you eat and dine. The next must be a long kiss if the first one yields a moments bliss. If you want the things the good girls miss you will need be wiser than most girls, sis. So watch your step is my advice if you want to be naughty and yet be nice. Go to it kid with your grease and paint that makes you look like what you ain’t. Shimmy and drink to your heart’s content. Be hugged and squeezed till your ribs are bent. Park your clothes on a hickory limb, but don’t dare go in for a swim. Bath if you will on the dewy(?) green. But you can’t use mud and come out clean. The game you play is men’s long suit. Since Eve first nibbled the forbidden fruit. What ever you get you must pay the price. But you can’t be naughty and yet be nice.

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happiness

In Grandma’s Words part 4 (FGK 66)

I was always so jealous of the riding to school stories, although now that I’m older and understand how much I don’t like the cold I’m not as jealous.

Riding to school all winter was sometimes quite a challenge. The horse would stand in the cold barn all day and could hardly wait for me to get on at night. By now I had two or three lively horses to ride. Sometimes it seemed we would hardly touch the ground but just sailed out of the barn until we climbed the hill north of the creek. I often drove a cutter to school when the sleighing was good. A kind neighbour gave me a set of sleigh bells and the pony I drove tried her best to run away from those bells but the harder she raced the more music they made. It was exciting. One very, very foggy morning while riding along the little path over the hills to school, I heard what seemed like a whole pack of coyotes howling quite close to me. Out alone in a dense fog makes you feel so all alone in the world. I rode over a knoll and onto a lone coyote sitting on the side-hill howling his heart out. I was really quite close to him and he had his head thrown back and was half way through a shocking howl when he saw me and shot straight up in the air then hit he ground and disappeared in a flash. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen a coyote howl.

One Saturday, George Campiden decided to be generous and let his sister Elise and me go fishing with him. We walked the two miles down to Big Hill Creek and got quite bored standing there quiet, watching George fish. Suddenly he caught one, much to his surprise I think. He yanked it out and it hit Elise across the face and she fell off the bank into the murky edge of the creek. She got all wet and muddy and so did I helping her and we got heck from George for being so noisy and clumsy, so we went home and left him there.

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In Grandma’s Words part 3 AKA “When Pigs Fly” (FGK-65)

I freaking love this story.

My dad must have liked pigs quite well and once when we were shipping cream to the creamery, he had an excellent crop of rye. He got the bright idea of buying buttermilk from the creamery, mixing in it with the rye chop etc and feeding what looked like marvellous goup to the pigs. They died. He was so upset he just couldn’t believe all that good food had killed them. He got a team and dragged a huge dead pig out behind the farm. Sharpened a butcher knife and went to the swollen carcass to preform an autopsy. He put his foot on it and plunged in the knife. And there followed such an explosion as has never been seen before or since. My dad claimed it lifted him off his feet, hit him square in the face! My mother heard him calling and went out to see him coming towards the house. He would walk a few feet then stop and vomit, then swear like you couldn’t imagine, then walk a few feet more. Mom didn’t know what was the matter with him but she knew he stunk awful and was heading for the house. She wouldn’t let him in but threw some clothes out for him and made him bath and change outside and bury his dirty clothes. He never experimented feeding pigs fancy feed again.

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In Grandma’s Words part 2 (FGK-64)

I don’t remember Grandma talking about the 1918 flu, but if I had I’m sure I never would have thought that wearing masks would have been relevant to my life! What I wouldn’t give to have a nice cool sod covered roof with dandelions on it today to seek shelter in. It’s HOT!!

Our mother had taken a tailoring course when she was a girl and she used to make nearly all our clothes. I remember one Christmas she made us each a beautiful navy blue velvet dress. The neck and sleeves piped with pale blue satin. I also remember white lace stockings I loved, and a white fur muff and cap.

When the 1918 flu epidemic was raging I had to wear a mask when out playing with other kids. My mother fumigated our house every morning by putting sulphur on the stove. We had to get out for an hour or so and it was a very cold winter, but we didn’t catch the flu.

There was a big high board fence around our barn. That corral would hold a couple hundred head of horses I think and often it was full. I liked to sit on the fence and watch them halter-break colts around the _____-foot in the centre.

Burnhams lived down near the race track, where the Burnham-Quigly brickyard once was, and I chummed with Anne and Villa Burnham. They had a lovely cool milk house with a sod roof covered with lush green grass and yellow dandelions. We used to go in there on a hot day and drink buttermilk or fresh milk. Mr Burnham and my dad hayed land opposite Mitford. We loved going out in the hayfield with them.

We milked a cow. I remember her well, she was mostly black with a bit of white and we called her “Sloppire”. Brought her from Bobbie Butler. My mother churned and I used to take a pail of fresh buttermilk over to Minnie Bailey (now she’s Allan). She loved it, and I loved to visit her and her mother “Granny Bailey”, the dearest Scottish lady anyone could ever wish to know. Jean Russel, Grannie’s granddaughter used to spend much of her time with them and she and I have been the closest friends ever since we were five years old. Jack Bailey was the baker in Cochrane and he had a confectionary store and ice cream parlour. Jean and I spent many, many happy hours down in the store with Uncle Jack.

When we moved out of Cochrane (sold our home to Bob Armstead) I at last got a pony of my own. But what a horse! You just couldn’t make him move off a slow walk. We bought him from Mrs Riply(?) who lived up Big Hill Creek. I had to ride him to school but always felt I’d be just as well off walking. Finally my dad got me a lovely little welsh pony called “Polly” and I began to enjoy the ride to and back from school in Cochrane. It was a lovely path I followed down a ravine where once there was stone quarry. Then along the Big Hill Creek. I still think it is one of the most beautiful spots in the country. Jean Russel spent all school holidays with me at our place and sometimes at her home in Didsbury. When at our place we rode over every foot of that Big Hill Creek country. We would pack a frying pan, a tin of beans and some bread and sausage and would build a campfire and cook our lunch up at the Big HIll Springs. How natural and beautiful it was then, with the petrified rock ridge at the head of it. That is all gone now.

Grandma’s mom
Great grandma’s cookie recipe
Grandma’s dad
Picnics with friends
If you walk as a friend you will find a friend wherever you choose to fare. If you go with a mirth to a far strange land, you will find that mirth is there. For the strangest part of this queer old world is that like will join with like. And who walks with love for his fellow man an answering love will strike. Edgar A Guest
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happiness

In Grandma’s Words Part 1 (FGK – 63)

When it was time to clear out Grandma’s room at the Wentworth, I was invited to choose a few things I wanted to remember her by. My items were her desk (the boy uses it every single day and it has been a most treasured item for him for most of his life), her bible, and the memory book created for her 90th birthday party. I carried all of these while we travelled, and when I felt disconnected from who I was, I’d read her bible or look through the memory book to remember. Her memory book is made up of her autobiography and photos put together (I think) by my aunt. I thought I’d take a brief break from the letters and share her story here. As I’ve been reading and sharing her letters I’ve begun to better understand what an incredible woman she was and thought it may be interesting to share her life story in her words.

I remember Grandma telling me of her adventures sledding down the hill in Cochrane with such a look of happiness on her face, until she looked at me and saw the wheels turning in my head. The stories always ended with “but it’s not safe now, you should never do that”. So instead I went tobogganing down the buffalo jumps until I got caught, apparently that also was not acceptable haha. It also didn’t make for a very smooth ride so I was happy not to have to repeat it.

Cochrane September 27th 1908

The Fairies and the Leprechauns were in Cochrane and they clapped their hands in glee

When the Doctor spanked the bottom

Of a baby that was me.

Woe is me.

~~

“Ow”. That was me when Dr. Park spanked my bottom when I was born in our house in Cochrane. What a difference to the soft touch the babies have now when born. No wonder we’re a hardy race, it was survival of the fittest. Then I remember my mother trying to talk me into an afternoon nap a few years later. My father rocking me in his arms in the rocking chair and singing to me to ease the pain of an earache with a bag of warm salt pressed to it. The rocking chair had a coyote skin draped over it, a big hide tanned and lined with red felt with scalloped edges.

These dear old hills of Cochrane provided endless fun and adventure for a child living in the village. Picking flowers in the spring. Building play-houses out of stones just laid on the ground in a pattern etc and galloping around on my stick-horse. Then when the winter snows came there was nowhere could compare with the marvellous speed of a bob-sleigh coming down the hill, then hitting the road and flying down nearly to the front street. The only traffic was horse drawn and they panicked from us, not us from them.

It was awful having only one sister and she was six and a half years older than me. I just couldn’t keep up to her, hard as I’d try, and she tried equally as hard to leave me behind. So I amused myself with whatever was handy and that nearly always was a horse.

This is her sketch of the stone houses they’d build
Grandma and her sister: Ruth and Edna Brown
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All the best in 1956 (FGK-62)

Grandma had her new kitchen by now! In all of the old photos I’ve seen of this house, I’ve never seen the lean to kitchen that was there before this big, beautiful kitchen was built. The story I was told was that there was a step down from the main house into the kitchen, and one time mom was walking on her crutches and fell down the stair into the kitchen. That was it, and Grandma insisted there be a proper kitchen built without any steps for mom. And what a kitchen she built! It still is my favourite room in the whole world (and where I sit while I write this).

Here’s an old photo I found in some archives of a house in Manitoba with a lean to kitchen. I’m assuming the old one here was something like this, but again I’m not sure as I’ve never seen photos. And every time I ever asked either Grandma or Mom about the old kitchen my questions were never answered, instead they told me how wonderful the new one is (and it really, really is). Even in this kitchen the amount of cooking Grandma had to do is staggering, I don’t know how she managed in a smaller and more rustic space.

RR3 Innisfail, Alta

February 9, 1956

Dear Margie

I was so glad to get your letter and to know that your operation did some good and that you are able to be up and around. You will be anxious to get home again.

We heard you over the radio at Xmas and were so glad to hear you. We did enjoy the programme.

Had a nice long letter from your Mum a while ago and did enjoy it. Would love to drop in on her sometime. She seems to be enjoying the new kitchen. I’m sure it will be lovely.

We are really enjoying our lovely mild weather. Surely hope it doesn’t turn to cold again. It is nice to be looking forward to spring.

Take care of yourself and all the best in 1956

Love

Aunt Jean

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It’s a really rough road (FGK 61)

I had to search back to see if the new shoes referenced here were my aunt’s open toed shoes she wrote about, but that letter wasn’t sent until July 4, 1953 so it must be that she had ANOTHER new pair. Shoes are important, I get it.

I wonder how rough that road must have been, From the stories I’ve heard driving out this wasn’t much of a luxury before the highway came through.

(Envelope is dated April 10, 1953)

Thurs, 9

Hi Margie

Golly, I wont’t have much news this time, but I said I’d write you.

Isn’t this weather terrible! I don’t know how I am going home this weekend. We haven’t got good road like you guys have. We have 5 miles of really tough road, and I really mean tough. Guess I’d better phone home tonight.

We were told today that we were getting tests tomorrow and all next week. I think Sheila starts next Wed. So I guess I had better buckle down but good.

I’m going down to see Mrs. Stevie tonight to ask her if I can live out of the college for the next week – the horse show. I have a note from Mom, but maybe it won’t work. I’m going to ask for a late study too. If you hear a big explosion tonight, you’ll know what happened!

Sheila probably told you about her new shoes. Golly they sure are nice and look very nice on her feet.

Well I must go for now

Love

Peggy

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Summer holidays and magpie feet (FGK-60)

I love these letters from the kids at Jumping Pound school. Different ages and different perspectives certainly give quite the snapshot of life for these kids.

RR2

Calgary, Alberta

June 23, 1953

Dear Marg

We started a crow and magpie campaign on the first of April. Lawrence has really been collecting magpie feet, he has 146 magpie feet. I have 45 feet. John has 14 feet.

Anne and Shirley came to visit us. We had a game of ball in the afternoon. Rose left yesterday.

I hope you will be walking soon.

Yours truly

Jim

RR2

Calgary

June 24, 1953

A man brought some more wood. We had just finished piling when he came, but he only brought half a load, so we got it all piled up except a little bit. Now we got 2 piles of wood.

The teacher lost his ring, but found it again.

John, Jim, and Elaine got new baseball gloves. The gloves have three fingers and one thumb. The colour is tan.

My family branded on Saturday.

I hope you are feeling well.

Do you want to go home?

Do you want to stay in the hospital?

Yours truly, David

RR2 Calgary

June 22 1953

Dear Marg

Lawrence, Rode, Elaine and Jim, John and Dave have planted flowers in the window boxes. we painted the window boxes. They planted sweet peas and California poppies. Both of them are growing very well.

Mary

RR2 Calgary Alberta

June 24, 1953

Dear Marg

The teacher got two new flags. One is called Union Jack and the other is called Canadian Ensign. They are very nice. Jim, John, and Law put them up. Then they put the Queen’s picture on it. We have got 56 pictures up all together.

Law has 7 pictures. Elaine has 13 pictures. Rose has 16 pictures etc. I have 3 calves.

Your pal,

Lynn.

RR NO2

Calgary, Alberta

June 23, 1953

Dear Margie

The weather is horrible in Alberta this year. It has rained so much that water is laying all over. It is so wet that when you try to plow you bog down.

The grass is not growing very well this year. It has been so wet that it is drowning out.

We are going to brand on Wednesday. We are going to brand about two hundred and seventy-five calves.

Are you coming home for the holidays? How do you like the hospital?

Yours truly

John

Cochrane, Alta. Box 58

June 22, 1953

Dear Margie

Well holiday time is just around the corner isn’t it? My family is going up to Windermere on Friday. I suppose you heard that Marshall is coming with us? Oh boy! I can hardly wait! By next Saturday I will be basking in Radium swimming pool.

I guess you will be coming home for your holidays. I bet you will be happy.

We branded last Saturday. The Sibbalds, uncle Frank’s clan, had Jim Bateman etc were up to help. We will drive our cows and calves up to 14 on Thursday.

We had our school picnic last Friday. Instead of having a usual picnic we had a party at Batemans. Rose and Elaine made speeches. Everyone had a great time.

Well I will write you more letters during the holidays.

Your pal,

Lawrence

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