More of Our Canada – July 2019

Childhood Delights
I learned to stook with my dad on
our small 40-acre farm. A
machine would cut the wheat
and tie it in bundles. It was those
bundles that we stooked; eight
bundles made a stook. There is
nothing more picturesque than a
field of stooks.
My mother was a good seam-
stress. I would pick out a picture
from the Eaton’s catalogue,
which was a must in a country
home, and she would make a
pattern out of newspaper.
Within days, I had a new outfit.
I attended a one-room school
till Grade 8. I have no recollec-
tion of what happened in the
classroom, yet I still remember
recess time. When we played
Pom Pom Pullaway, two older
boys would take my hands and
run with me—I was never
caught.
Gas and oil lamps lit our home

until I was eight years old. After

we got electricity, I remember

feeling excited as I turned on the

light switch. We then bought a

radio. I contributed money that I

earned from delivering eggs and

from picking potato bugs off the

potato plants, as well as collect-

ing gopher tails for five cents

each—imagine!

In good weather, all the village

kids played Run Sheep Run or

Scrub. I still remember that I

owned the only softball in the

village.

In winter, we would flood a bit

of ground and make our own

curling sheet, using frozen tin

cans as stones. Curling was the

social hub of every village. Now I

watch curling on TV and was

lucky enough to go to the Gold

Medal game at the Vancouver

Olympics.

I can still remember walking

home at night and looking up at

the sky to spot the Milky Way,

both the Big and Little Dipper as

well as millions of stars. We

don’t see that in the city now.

Soon our little home would

appear in front of me, bright and

welcoming. The snow would

crunch under my feet as I got

closer and my mother would

always be up waiting for me with

a cup of cocoa.

We moved to Calgary when I

was 18, and I became known as

Jo. Since then, I have lived in

five different provinces as well

as Germany for a time. I am now

98 and once again living in a

three-room place, one of which

is a bathroom—something my

first home did not have.

I am now called Jojo for my

last chapter, but I will never

forget the town that called me

Josephine. n

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