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happiness

A week in the life of a rancher’s wife in the 1950s.

I found a little booklet that Grandma wrote outlining her daily kitchen routine. It’s in a notebook that also has the rough copy of a letter to the lady my mom was living with in Florida, so I assume this was written 1955-57. It’s quite the routine she had, honestly I’m tired just writing it out!

Daily order of Work for Kitchen

  1. Save cream – 1 quart or large C. Jug
  2. Wash separator and milk pails
  3. Stack dishes properly soak pots and pans
  4. Check and reorganize foods, put away
  5. Wipe off refrigerator and all work surfaces in need of cleaning
  6. Wash dishes
  7. Shut door to dining room and sweep floor
  8. Wipe off surface of range. Clean spilled food from oven
  9. Dry damp work surfaces, wipe off marks on cupboards and window sill
  10. Clean sink. Rinse dishcloth or mop and hang out to dry when possible
  11. Take out garbage
  12. Clean wash basin and sink in porch

Time for above: 1 1/2 hours. Done at 9:30 am.

Monday Morning

  1. Put on porridge (cream of wheat 1 1/2 cups, water over brim in double boiler with 1 tablespoon salt in it)
  2. Coffee – 2 tablespoons. Fill pot 1/2 full of water to boil it. Then fill it up to to pour it
  3. Toast – one loaf un buttered
  4. See that all is on table – cream, sugar, milk, butter, jam, etc
  5. Fry 8 eggs, boil 2 white eggs 2 minutes
  6. If time bring up vegetables – wash enough spuds for diner to bake, peel enough potatoes and parsnips for supper or wash beets for dinner.
  7. Wash separator as soon as you have finished your breakfast, let stragglers look after themselves
  8. Fill wash tubs
  9. Do dishes and tidy kitchen
  10. See that there is no ugh meat ready for dinner and make a rice pudding
  11. Help with laundry.

Monday Afternoon

First put on meat to boil

Try and get some of the ironing done

5 pm make ginger bread with shipped cream for dessertA

After supper is cleared and floor swept, set table for breakfast.

7 am Tuesday

  1. Breakfast: porridge, coffee, toast, see that everything needed is on table, cream, milk, butter, etc.
  2. Defrost refrigerator
  3. 3 poach 8 eggs and boil 2 for 4 minutes
  4. (If time) Prepare enough potatoes for both dinner and supper (for dinner scallop them, plain boiled for supper). Also either turnips or cabbage for dinner and either carrots or peas for supper
  5. Wash separator etc as schedule
  6. Grind meat and make meat loaf
  7. Make Johnnie-cake for dessert
  8. Wash refrigerator

In afternoon do ironing, but at 2 pm put on pot roast on little stove and make chocolate blancmange pudding for dessert, near supper time whip cream for it.

After supper is over and kitchen tidy, set table for breakfast and mix dry ingredients for pancakes. Put syrup on table and griddle iron on little stove. Put beans to soak.

7 am Wednesday

  1. Breakfast: Porridge, coffee and pancakes, see all necessary things are on table and boil 2 eggs for 4 mins
  2. 2 (if time) Prepare enough potatoes for dinner and supper (french fry for dinner, boil and mast for supper)
  3. Put beans on to boil. Use left over carrots creamed for dinner or make macaroni and cheese.
  4. Wash separator as schedule
  5. At 10am put on steam pudding for dessert
  6. Prepare enough apples and make sauce for supper
  7. Cold meat for dinner, try and have steak for supper
  8. Put beans in oven for supper (sometimes have devilled eggs or salad instead of beans)
  9. Wednesday jobs (as convenient) – clan basement. Wash steps. Wash separator outside. Bring in week’s supply of vegetables.
  10. Last thing at night, mix dry ingredients for biscuits for breakfast.

7 am Thursday

  1. Breakfast: porridge, coffee, and hot biscuits, also put on enough bread for 2 people. Scramble 9 eggs and boiled 2 for 4 minutes
  2. Hope for enough potatoes to warm up for dinner but if not, prepare some for supper. Put them in with roast for supper
  3. Have cabbage or beets or peas for dinner and for supper, warmed up beets or prepare parsnips or make Yorkshire pudding
  4. Wash separator and dishes
  5. Make stew for dinner
  6. Make custard for dinner dessert
  7. Put soft water on to warm to wash cupboards and woodwork,. First Thursday, clean inside cupboards on east side. Second Thursday clean inside cupboards on west sideA
  8. At 2 pm put in roast for supper and make Boston Cream pie for dessert.

7am Friday

  1. Breakfast: porridge, coffee, meat if possible or friend eggs and toast and boil 2 eggs 4 minutes
  2. Prepare enough potatoes to scallop for dinner and to bake for supper
  3. For dinner have cold meat and either turnips or a salad. For supper, parsnips or warmed over vegetable
  4. Wash separator and dishes as scheduleH
  5. Help with sweeping all through house
  6. Make apple batter pudding for dinner and lemon pudding for supper
  7. In afternoon, clean cook stove thoroughly
  8. Make meat balls or hamburger for super (fry all thins on little stove)
  9. Last thing: put prunes to soak

7am Saturday

  1. Breakfast: porridge, coffee, toast, fried eggs, and boil 2 for 4 minutes etc
  2. Prepare enough vegetables, carrots and potatoes for dinner and supper. Riced potatoes for dinner and warmed in oven for super. Creamed carrots or if not enough, scalloped cabbage
  3. Put on pot roast for dinner
  4. Wash separator etc as schedule
  5. Make plain cake with whipped cream for dessert for dinner and boil prunes for the supper dessert
  6. Make ice cream or set jello for Sunday dessertMa
  7. Scrub and wax kitchen floor and have cold meat for supper
  8. After supper is over and table set for breakfast, etc, prepare dry ingredients for pancakes.

Sunday

8 am (if possible 8:30 am)

  1. Put roast in oven
  2. Breakfast – as usual – pancakes
  3. Prepare enough potatoes for both dinner and supper (have rolled for supper, boiled for dinner). Peas for dinner, salad for supper)
  4. Clean up as schedule
  5. Supper – cold meat -fruit
  6. Last thing at night put on wash water and cut up soap for washing Monday.

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happiness

Dear Edna (A poem written about Grandma)

I’m assuming this poem was written by one of her schoolmates. I believe this was when she attended the end of high school in Calgary. It was written as a note, so the first part here is the note Penny wrote, with the poem attached at the end.

Edna, care of Barbra

Dear Edna,

Please excuse this paper, but as usual I am in bed writing of course very naughty, but supposed to be good? I am a very poor writer as Barbra knows. I also hope you will forgive me, my being so forward as to write but as you are Barbra’s friend, you will understand. I am not a poet, but I often write lines of junk to Barbra to tease her. I will do my best to make you a poem which will be a very poor best. As you are fond of horses and a good rider, maybe you will understand my craze for race and show horses. Thoroughbreds are my favourite. Well I am slow at hitting things quickly, I hope you hike out to the weasel-head on Saturday. Here is my poor poem.

Edna

Edna sweet and pretty

Blue eyes and flaxen curls

Oh, loved by all is she

Especially envied by the other girls

Her beauty is well known

Her saddle o’er the gate

So carefully thrown

While for a pony she does wait.

It won’t be long

‘Ere she does ride

Tracing the breezes strong

By Barbra’s side

Out in the moonlight night

When the stars are bright

With love and hopes

From Penny H.

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Just a Thought at Twilight (A poem by Edna)

Just a Thought at Twilight When my Spirit’s Low

Music is throbbing in my ears

A Christian hymn sung at twilight

Faintly it dies with the breeze then nears

As the human notes gain in might

It’s Sunday evening and the first day of May

I’m thinking of my home in the foothills

And I wish I were there to enjoy this day

Where the meadowlarks voice throbs and trills

The city has many large and magnificent churches

Where the people gather in crowds to worship God for an hour or two

But all day in the country where’er your eye searches

Your heart humbly praises the Master of the picturesque view

I wish I were back to my kinfolk again

And to the hills and the mountains dear

To help plow the fields and to plant the rich grain

Which feeds all these mouths who at the farmers sneer

(On the back is written: Please return to me because this is the only copy I’ve got and I have promised to send Jean all my attempts at poetry. E.A.B.)

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happiness

The Story of Grandma’s Colt “Kitchener”

Grandma loved horses at least as much as I love horses, so it brings me a lot of joy when I read her stories about how much she loved riding or being around horses. I had never heard the story of Kitchener before, and I’m not sure what club she was part of for this story/photo – perhaps 4H or something like that. I also have no idea why the person marking this story gave her such a low grade, personally I thought the story was great – who knows what the actual assignment was though.

My Colt

In the first week of my colt’s life, there’s s not much to write about but head and legs. If his body would have been a little bigger, his head wouldn’t have looked so big, for it was a really dainty, innocent looking little head. He had a little yellowish, white nose, with wide nostrils and small mouth. His eyes were large and brown with a good width between them. He seemed to be proud of them because he was always rolling them and showing the whites of them. He had very smooth, sharp pointed ears and their size was in right proportion to his head. With the slightest sound, he would turn an ear to hear it and when the flies bothered him, for he was born the first of July 1923, he would lay both his ears down flat on his head, showing he was angry. As he gets older, his head gets more beautiful. He had a long, long neck this first week and a little fuzzy fringe of mane. His body was long and thin and a gold colour, for he is an English thoroughbred. He had very long, thin legs and a little curly tail that he was always switching.

The mother of my colt is my own and favourite pony. She is very high lifed and frisky or I could ride her to school. However, I can ride her in the fair and she has taken first prize every time she was put in. I kept my pony and colt in a little field all by themselves where the grass was tall and green. Every morning and evening I feed my pony oats or a bran mash and when my colt was old enough, I fed him oats. Every day I put a little halter on my colt and tied him up and cleaned him. In the cool evening I would coax and lead my little colt around until he would follow me anywhere. I soon began to make him trot and lope as well as walk. To do this, I had to take the long buggy whip and touch him just hard enough to make him trot or lope. I never bothered my colt much in the heat of the day when the flies were bad because he was always in a bad temper and sometimes would try to kick or bite me. It was very hard to pick a suitable name for him, but at last I decided to call him Kitchener.

As the fall was drawing near and school opening, I thought it would be alright to put him and his mother out in a field with the other horses where there was two or three straw stacks. I did this and they kept fat and frisky all winter. About the middle of February, I put a halter on my colt and put it in the stable by itself. The first week it was very lonesome for its mother, but it soon forgot her. During the winter it had grown more shapely but it had long, shaggy hair. Morning and night I fed it linseed and oats. Every Saturday I would brush and clean him and lead him out. When he’d first come out he’d buck and jump around me in a circle. After he had raced around me for a while, he would come up to me and I would give him a little salt or brown sugar.

One day after he had taken exercise, I tied him up and put a saddle blanket on him. He took no notice of it, so I put on a little saddle that weighed about five pounds. He drew away from me, and seemed a little nervous of the saddle, but I petted and talked to him and he soon took no notice of it either. Nearly every night when I was going to feed him I would step outside of the stable door and call him. He soon started to answer my call by his ringing whinnies and I could hear him paw the stable floor with his iron like hooves. When I would first go in, he would nibble and bite at my coat sleeve while I fed him. And when i would be getting his oats ready he would toss his head with a conceded little whinny.

On the first of May, my colt was shiny with a satin like coat and was well shaped. He would roll his eyes and always held his neck in a bow and would toss his head and let out a fierce, ringing neigh. He had strong muscular legs and a long body and neck. He was very easily trained. When I would tell him to get over, he would move to the other side of his stall and when I told him to back up, he would back up. All together he seemed a very intelligent little colt and I hope he will someday be a good racehorse.

Teacher note: your story is a good one, but the booklet is not well prepared 4/10

Additional note: took cold Dec 20, 1924. took sick Dec 24, 1924. Died March 8 1925

Poor little Kitchener, poor Grandma.

Here’s a poem that she wrote that I found in a stack of papers that is about this beloved little colt.

Kitchener

You want me to write of my favourite horse

Oh, you don’t understand I know of course.

You don’t know how deep in my heart

Had sunk the love from which I had to part.

I’ve had many playmates and many a chum

But their affections couldn’t equal this dear one.

He would play whenever I’d want to play

No person so agreeable as he was always.

I guess you have never played games with a horse

Perhaps you will think I am fibbing or worse.

But it’s the truth; oh, I know how true

How clever and playful, I can’t tell you.

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happiness

Cochrane Hill – a poem by Edna

Grandma sure loved her hometown. She told so many stories , sharing her love for the little village where she was born, that is now a small city pretending to be a town. I am not sure when this poem was written, it was found with articles from the 1920s, but this was typed out, so I’m assuming it was later on that that. However, if Grandma could see now “the hill, now streamlined to follow the mode, as tourists go speeding….” It certainly isn’t anything resembling a cow trail anymore. The mountains and the view though, they’re the same. It’s still a beautiful little area, it’s home.

Cochrane Hill

The foothill country in the days that are gone,

Had trails that led you hither and yon.

And many a well worn path was trod,

Till great, deep ruts were buried in sod.

One of those trails is history now,

A trail that’s not forgotten somehow.

It’s a long, long slope that curves until

You know you’re descending the Cochrane Hill.

The hill, now streamlined to follow the mode,

As tourists go speeding where Natives once rode,

No more is a cow trail, but a road that will last

Though present day traffic is heavy and fast.

Decending this hill you come into view

Of the beautiful Bow, all misty with dew.

And the Rockies, majestic, mighty and tall.

Truly a sight remembered by all.

You may like the view from a plane in the air,

Or even the view from a Pullman chair.

But just about sunrise when morn is so still,

Oh give me the view from Cochrane Hill.

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Don’t say anything bad about me

Ah the old days of no phone privacy and party lines. I love how there’s no shame in Grandma’s game as she boldly owns listening to the conversation. In fact, I remember Grandma sitting here listening intently to any conversation that was happening over our party lines. And I’m not throwing her under the bus alone, I also sat and tried hard to be interested in the conversations around me, but I was young enough and the conversations were boring enough (to me then, not that they would be now) that I gave up.

Jumping Pound, Alta

Dec 15, 1932

Dear Mamma

I have finished phoning you and heard your ring so listened to you and Ruth Cairns talking. Lucky you didn’t say anything bad about me or I would have butted in.

We were at a loss to know what to get you for Xmas. Everything I suggested Percy would say it wasn’t good enough etc cause you made so many Xmas gifts for us so I sent for this dress at the last and now I’m not very stuck on it. Anyway, maybe there are other things you would rather have or better uses for the money, so I’m sending it over to give you time to send it back if you don’t like it. As long as you get some pleasure out of the gift, whether it’s dress or money why we’ll be happy.

It was good of Cairns to offer to take you to Calgary. Wish I had got this cash over sooner and maybe you could have gone.

Well, I must get busy and write to Ruth and then we can arrange better about Xmas.

With best wishes and love

From Edna

Xxx

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happiness

A little update on “Jack the Soldier”

Thankfully there were other people who became invested in the life of Jack, and even though I said yesterday that “Real life, unlike TV shows and books doesn’t seem to wrap endings up in nice little bows so you know how things go”, I do have a little update on what happened to Jack and Eileen.

I had a family member (thanks Carolyn!) reach out who had done some searching and found Jack’s obituary from 2009 in Cochrane. It seems he passed away at the age of 97, and was survived by his wife, daughter, and a son and some grandchildren. From that I was able to find Eileen’s obituary and she passed away in 2016 also at the age of 97. So, they returned to Canada, to Cochrane, after the war.

It warmed my heart to know that that last letter, which wasn’t really a letter but a pre written post card, may have been the end of my story about Jack but nowhere near the end of his story, of their story. These letters, written by someone I never knew and never will know, have come to mean a lot to me, I’ve learned a lot from him.

Thank you Jack.

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Letters from “Jack the Soldier” during WWII

I have no idea how my grandparents knew Jack, but there are several letters here from him. Some are from Camp Shilo in Manitoba where he went for training, and some are from overseas.

One of my favourite university classes was the history of Canada during the World Wars, and so I find this kind of stuff fascinating. I don’t think I’ve ever seen photos of Camp Shilo before, certainly not “real” ones that didn’t come from history books or archives.

Anyway, here’s the first of the War letters. Enjoy!

Sun on July 1940

Dear Percy and Edna

Well I am just raring to go. I left Calgary last Tuesday, and arrived here at Shilo Wednesday about four o’clock. It sure is an impressive sight seeing this camp for the first time, rows upon rows of tents, lined up in mathematical precision, and everything is slick and span, which seems to be part of the soldiers deities.

The first time a person comes here, a tension, or underlying excitement seems to grip one, all the hustle and bustle and stirs of the camp seems to change the atmosphere, and unconsciously one gets adapted to the rules and regulations of the camp.

I am still in the awkward squad, but I hope to be up with some of the other fellows in the next couple of weeks, who have been here a while, and as I like the work, and take an interest in it, I get along a lot better than lots of those, who find drilling just monotonous drilling.

The first time that a bunch of us new recruits got together for drilling was sure an experience. The sergeants in charge forgot to speak English and it is really confusing the first time one yells “A-Hee”(???) that he means stand At Ease. The army has more abbreviations for commands than you can shake a stick at and everyone seems to accent them differently.

One of the finest sights is to watch the Highlanders marching to the skirl of the Pipes, the gay colourful plays, and the sound of marching, everyone moving with automatic precision sure stirs the blood, and makes me proud to belong to this unit. There is a great deal of rivalry existing between different units, sometimes not so friendly at that and new recruits soon get to possess a possessive feeling concerning their unit and think it superior to any other.

I sure was disappointed at not being able to get out to see you before I left, but leave is hard to get unless one has been in the army six months or more but I’ll try and get out there the first chance I have but in the meantime I’ll write and let you know how things are going. I’ll enclose some snaps of the camp from time to time, and I’ll ask you to keep them for me until I get back, as they will be good souvenirs to have.

Many of the boys that I became aquatinted with from around Lethbridge are here, and and as everyone is so friendly I haven’t had tome yet to get lonely.

I haven’t come across Bill Harris since I came here, but perhaps I’ll see him if he still is in camp, it is quite hard to find a certain person among so many thousands unless I know his company or Number.

It seems as though the next page/pages of the letter are missing. Not sure if the army took them, or if over the course of the last 80 years things just vanished. However, there are lots more letters from “Jack the Soldier” as well as several photos. So, I will continue to share what I have and be grateful for that!

Panoramic photos before they were a thing. These photos had directions to overlap them so that the entirety of the camp could be seen.
A little bit more of the camp that didn’t fit into the first set of photos
Jack Martin. Signed up June 29th (1940) at Lethbridge, Alberta. M11915, Calgary Highlanders C-A-S-F
Cameron Highlanders practicing. Shilo Camp. The Goat is their Mascot (July 25, 1940)
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A convocation of eagles

We were driving to town yesterday and looked at the slough on the way by to see if the swans were still here.

As an aside, a couple of weeks ago the girl and I were out in the yard when we heard what we thought was the strangest sounding clown car going by on the road. Turns out it was the honking of a flock of swans. Much different than the honking of a flock of geese these guys were – an elegant looking, but clown car sounding flock flying overhead. We are still laughing about it.

Anyway, we looked over and to our surprise and delight, instead of
swans there was a convocation of eagles. Is 4 enough for a convocation? Either way, they were magnificent! I love eagles and have been blessed with several eagle sightings this year. There are many interpretations of the significance of seeing eagles – to me they represent courage, strength, power, bravery, independence, and a connection to the divine. Added bonus is how amazingly beautiful they are.

How amazing is this???
God’s love and beauty
When I looked at this photo, I couldn’t figure out for the life of me what the eagle on the far right was doing.
The funky chicken???? What on earth??
Oh, never mind, it was just a crow flying in front of him.

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Compassionate friendships

The letters I have been reading have highlighted for me the deep, caring friendships that Grandma had with some of the women in her life. I wrote yesterday about her friendship with my Godmother, and how they bonded together after Uncle George died. There has been another set of letters I’ve found from Aunt Gertie that have helped me see that the kindness I remember emanating from Aunt Gertie really seemed to be a deep part of her personality – of who she was – and also how Grandma and Aunt Gertie (who lost her husband, another Uncle George, in the 1950s) shared a bond of friendship that I don’t think I ever appreciated.

Grandma and Aunt Gertie passed away exactly 2 weeks apart in April of 2004. It’s hard to believe it’s been that long ago, and also hard to believe that much time has passed. As the mom of an almost 20 year old, I feel that odd passage of time on many levels.

But way before that, when they were women living out in the country in a time when isolation was a way of life, they forged a friendship. I’d imagine it began during the time that Aunt Gertie stayed here with Grandma and Grandpa, before she married and moved onto have a family of her own. I only have half of the letters they sent to each other. I have to guess from things Aunt Gertie says to Grandma what it was that Grandma had written in her letters.

But there were times when Grandma had major life events (tragedies) occur and there would be a letter from Aunt Gertie giving love and support. But more than that, she showed deep compassion and understanding for whatever issue it was that Grandma was dealing with. She would open her heart and share deep emotions and private life events to attempt to help Grandma feel less alone and more loved.

From what little I know about Aunt Gertie’s life, she certainly had some struggles and challenges and heartaches to deal with. Yet whenever I would see her I was greeted with a big smile and made to feel welcome. It is the same sense I get of her from the letters I have found. It’s inspiring, the reminder to be kind, be compassionate, be thoughtful to others no matter what.

There are so few stories of women from the past, their histories being lost and the importance of their lives forgotten. I feel very honoured to have found the treasure of “voices from the past” for some of the women who came before me.

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