A Letter from Lucy

by Eileen Harrington McIntosh

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A Letter from Lucy - Introduction

by Allan McIntosh

These letters tell of the life of the village of Eden Mills, and our family's activities during the early 1950's. They were written by our mother who mailed them each week to the Markham Economist and Sun, a weekly paper published in Markham, Ontario. Mother assigned aliases to the members of the family. She took the name of her grandmother, Lucy. Dad was given his real name, John, but most people knew him as Jack. My brother, Rae, became Peter and I was christened Johnny. Every one else who was mentioned got their real name, including the cat. Mother made little attempt to disguise much of anything else, including her opinions on a wide variety of topics.

At this time Dad was employed as a truck driver for the Department of Health. He delivered food and other goods from a "Reformatory" which operated a large farm near Guelph, Ontario. His deliveries were mostly to the government operated psychiatric hospitals in Southern Ontario.

Mother was a full-time homemaker during this period. She had left her job in Toronto as a stenographer after she was married, and remained at home until we left Eden Mills and moved to Markham in 1956.

Life revolved around the activities of home, school and church. We attended school at S.S. #5 Nassagaweya. It was a picturesque stone building located on a side-road about a mile and a half from our home, outside the village. Because Eden Mills straddles the county line, half of the children went to this school and the other half to a different one. Grades one to eight were taught by one teacher. There were usually about 40 pupils.

The church was also made of stone, situated on the banks of the river which flows through the village. It was one church on a three point Pastoral Charge, and services were held on Sunday evening. At some point we began attending the larger church on the Charge which was several miles south of the village.

Saturday trips to Guelph were undertaken by mother, driving our 1932 Chevrolet, then a 1936 Ford, and later a 1940 Dodge. The main purpose was to take "the boys" for their music lessons. Rae endured an elderly violin teacher housed in the tower of the old Opera House, and I took piano lessons at the Anglican Church from the organist and choir director. While we were being instructed, mother would do the grocery shopping.

Our maternal grandmother also lived in Guelph and we usually paid a visit to her as well. Another person who is frequently mentioned is "Uncle Henry" and also his invalid wife, Aunt Connie. Uncle Henry was the local blacksmith. Though not a relative, he sort of adopted us, or we adopted him, and he was a regular visitor at our home.

For entertainment, the family would drive a few miles to Acton where there was the Roxy movie theatre, and occasionally to Guelph to see movies or some higher cultural activity such as an opera or concert. Trips to Toronto were rare, but a couple of times a year we would visit relatives in Cedar Grove, or St. Thomas.

Our home was a humble, converted summer cottage. It was surrounded by cedar trees, stone fences, and the nearby woods, which we called "the bush." When we first moved there, we pumped our water from a community well and carried it home in buckets. The house was heated by an oil-fired "space heater" in the living room, and a wood stove in the kitchen. Soft water was collected in a cistern under the kitchen, and a rain-barrel at the side of the house, which was home to various aquatic creatures. Home entertainment consisted of the piano, a radio, and later, a small 45 rpm record player.

There were always pets and various forms of wildlife with which to contend. Community activities were organized by a Community Club, the School, or the Women's Institute. In the summer there were softball games with intense rivalries among the various teams from different villages. The millpond provided a swimming place in summer and a skating rink in winter.

From reading these letters I hope you will get a sense of what village life was like in those days, seen through the eyes of our mother. When I read them I am filled with gratitude realizing that we had the most important of requirements: loving parents, a good education, spiritual foundations, and cultural amenities that helped to form and shape our lives in a certain way. We felt secure, loved, and valued as children and youth. We participated in the life of the community. There was little regimentation or organized activity such as sports teams, Scouts etc. We had a lot of freedom to explore, to play, and to think. We lived close to nature, yet knew something of urban life. While not well off, we never felt deprived of anything.

We were not much aware of what was happening in other parts of the world. Ours was a limited view. Glimpses of a greater world were provided by the movies, or a visiting missionary, by pen pals, and stamp collecting. But our world is portrayed with quite amazing accuracy in these letters. The letters of "Lucy" tell a story that is good to remember and celebrate.
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The Letters
(some samples from the earliest letters published)

Jan 26, 1950

Dear Folks:

Did you "batten down the hatches" last week? We did our best and came through fairly well until 7 a.m. Saturday when the old cedar tree which grew right beside the front door, after moaning and groaning all night decided to give up the ghost and fell with a loud crash right across the corner of the cottage. My bed being in the same corner, I rose with wild shrieks of "the tree! the tree" and cleared everything in a record leap to the living room. John, my husband, who is a creature of great deliberation, stayed calmly in bed gazing at the ceiling, and saying, "What Tree?" Well, he was simply amazed when he looked out of the door and saw the havoc wrought, whereas I, the pessimist, who had lain awake most of the night wondering if the next creak would be Old Cedar's last, and also how long the roof would stay on, etc., was only thankful we were not crushed beneath the weight. As it is the corner of the house is damaged a bit, and after paying wind insurance for some years, we at last collect!

The two boys felt badly as this tree was very valuable in their eyes. At a nice height to clear the heads of any unsuspecting visitors who passed beneath on the way to the front door, they had erected a tree house. Many a time with inward rage I have had to apologize to my guests for the miscellaneous articles which dropped on their heads and some times slithered down their necks.

So, except for a certain sadness one always feels when "the old order changeth," I suspect this little calamity is all for the best. I shall now have sufficient sunlight for flowers beside the door and maybe a trellis with a lovely climbing rose!

Au revoir my friends, Lucy.

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February 2, 1950

Dear folks:

What is so rare as a day in June? A June day in winter - and so it was today. The breezes were so balmy, our seven-year-old came home from school dragging his parka behind him. We really fear the daffodils will be fooled into waking up and will get nipped by the certain frosts to come.

Mother and I spent the afternoon quilting for the W.A. of our church. The quilt is ordered for a wedding gift and will be sold for $15 when finished. It amazes me what people will pay for quilts. A pair of blankets for that price would be twice as warm and just as decorative. This is treason to the W.A., but I have such a sore finger that quilting has lost its charm.

Just now I heard a suspicious tinkle at the back door and rushed out to see a most delectable fish I was saving for tomorrow disappear down the throat of an old hound dog. I had put it on the table out there in a heavy pan with a lid but that dog knocked the whole Mpan on the ground and the lid fell off. Tomorrow we have eggs!

Fishily yours, Lucy.

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February 9 (?), 1950

Dear Folks:

If this letter shows a depressed frame of mind it is due to the fact that my sons and myself are all confined to home with bad cases of sniffles while father, being still healthy, went cheerfully off to do the family honour at our Home and School Box Social. The Home and School Association is only allowed one money-making event of the year and this is our effort for 1950. It seems to be a new thing in this section and has aroused great interest. Several people phoned here for ideas on how to make a box. After a great struggle I achieved one for myself in the shape of a houseboat all in green and white and was all set for the party when I was laid low with this nasty germ. This morning as I sat sadly gazing on my handiwork a teenager from next door arrived. She was just "dying" to go to the Box Social but didn't know the first thing about how to make a box, and would I help her! Dear folks, you know the answer! The green and white houseboat is no doubt at this moment under the auctioneer's hammer while its mother sits at home with a hanky to her nose.

If John has anything interesting to report when he comes home this sad tale will be continued next week.

Dolefully yours, Lucy.

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February 16, 1950

Dear folks:

Well, the Box Social was a big success. The little red school-house was crammed to the doors and over forty beautiful boxes found an owner. Alas, my little teenager was disappointed as a mere schoolboy bought the houseboat and she wished she had saved the turkey sandwiches and made bologna. Poor John had a little trouble buying a box. He bid on one he liked and the auctioneer proclaimed it his and when he went forth to claim it a red-faced and determined fellow, who was the treasurer of the sale, no less, jumped up and said he had bid higher, whereas John says he had not opened his mouth. However, he discovered the box belonged to the young man's wife and that he had received strict orders to buy it. Being very busy taking in the money he hadn't noticed whose box it was until it was sold! So he put up a good argument and got it away. Faint heart never won fair lady! Not to be discouraged John bid on the next box and everyone was so sorry for him by that time that nobody bid against him and he got a lovely box belonging to a little English lady for the large sum of fifty cents.

There was the usual Box Social hilarity: the two rivals who ran the box of their choice up to $5.00 and then discovered it did not belong to their dream-girl at all but to a nice old grandma, whereas a shy young fellow bought the dream-girl's box on his very first bid; the heel who refused to eat with the owner of his box when he saw the name inside; the couple who had not spoken for several years and suddenly had to eat lunch together; the man who had to share his lunch not only with his partner but with her three children who kept coming along looking hungry.

All in all it was a wonderful party! We must hold it again next year when I can get all this information first-hand.

Au revoir, Lucy.

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February 23,(?) 1950

Dear folks:

The children were so happy to see snow last week. Peter came marching out of the blizzard jauntily singing: "In Dixie Land I take my stand, to whoop it up in Dixie Land." and then asked me what the rest of the words were! They were to have a skating party at school after the Valentine box was dispensed with but the weather, of course, put an end to that. We had a lovely surprise that day. A neighbour whom we had taken here and there on one or two occasions, arrived with a box of chocolates. I made a Valentine cake, a la Mrs. Aitken, which was a big success but which, along with the candy, may have accounted for the boys playing cops and robbers in their dreams.

We were amused at our pets' reactions to the storm. our little dog asked to get out at the kitchen door and when we opened it and the snow whirled in she promptly turned around and went to the front door hoping it would be summer weather at the other end of the house! The cat was even more horrified and refused to go out at all backing into the middle of the room, and shaking first one paw and then the other in an effort to dispel imaginary snow.

Uncle Henry, expecting that John had gone to work, came up and shoveled us out before he discovered that John had not gone to work at all and was perfectly capable of shoveling himself out. So we brought him in and gave him a cup of tea to try to make up for playing such a bad joke on a busy man. As a result John had extra time on his hands so he waxed the living-room floor and I was the lucky one after all.

Until next week, Lucy.

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March 2, 1953.

Dear folks:

This is Saturday. Uncle Henry brought his cross-cut saw down and he and John cut Old Cedar into kindling wood. Peter was much upset when he saw the cross-cut and went tearing out crying "Daddy, please don't cut down my shinnyin' tree." There is an ironwood tree right beside our house and Peter claims that once he "shinnied" up it so fast that an old mother robin didn't have time to get away and flew off her nest right in his face! A pair of partridges roost in that tree nearly every night and we were priding ourselves on taming the untamable, but one day a local boy noticed them and told us they roost in ironwood trees because they feed on the buds.

The birds are wonderful here in the winter time. It is a sheltered and heavily wooded spot and we have several different varieties. We made a little feeding station outside the kitchen window and at first I hardly got any housework done for watching. Now I am somewhat familiar with the different taps and songs and unless it is something exciting and new I can resist the impulse to come and look! The light tap is the chickadee and the rhythmical one the downy woodpecker. The nuthatch is also a regular visitor. I like to see him coming down a tree head-first looking for grubs. When he gets to the bottom he flies to the top of the next one and down he comes again. The brown and white creeper is the same except that he starts at the bottom and goes up. The little slate coloured juncos come in droves on a snowy morning but we never see them except when the snow is on the ground.

Then suddenly there is a harsh scream. All the little birds scatter to the trees and down comes a big bossy blue jay. He knocks so heavily on the feeding box that once I went to the door to see who wanted in and then I saw him boldly peering through the window. When he has eaten all he can hold he stuffs his beak right full and then flies away to his store-room, coming back almost at once for more. But to my mind the beauty of the bluejay compensates us for his greed.

Our most brilliant visitor is the cardinal and the most polite, we think. A very shy bird, he flits in and out never staying long enough to suit us. That black face and red topknot give him a "Masked Ball" appearance and his clear high chirp is hard to place because he is an excellent ventriloquist.

But when the first balmy spring days appear our winter friends will suddenly be gone. In their place will be robins and song sparrows and little Jenny wren busily building her first nest in the old tomato can!

Au revoir, my friends, Lucy.

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March 9, 1950

Dear folks:

I must tell you about some of the funny things that have happened around here lately. Last Saturday while doing our shopping we had occasion to call at a house to pick up a parcel and while we sat there waiting - it being cold, they insisted on our all trooping in - we could not help but notice that the lady of the house, while trying to talk to us in the living room, was also trying to bake a cake in the kitchen, talk on the phone in the hall, keep her little two year old son from climbing to the top of the wall, and the thousand-and-one other things that a busy mother has to do on a Saturday morning. Well, it just seemed to be one of those days. Every once in a while she would glance wildly at the clock -- mutter "I must get the cake made" and make a bee-line for the kitchen. She kept dropping things and throwing things, and finally dropped the vanilla spilling it all over the floor. Her husband came cheerfully in at that moment and said, "My, what a heavenly smell!" whereupon she glared at him and said shortly, "I dropped the vanilla." Just then she bent over to start cleaning it up but instead she slipped on it and away she went. She is a very tall woman and the little house really shook. Her husband and mine went to help her up but she seemed all right and stood leaning on a cupboard rather dazed with it all. Her little boy chose that unfortunate moment to appear chewing the corner of an old pink blanket which he had pulled from his bed. He came up to me and said, offering me a corner, "Would you like a bite of my sleepy blanket?" His poor mother grabbed the blanket muttering something about her child being maladjusted, whereupon to cap the climax John said, "Maybe it would be more appetizing if you put vanilla or something on it." There was a dead silence, after which we said our good-byes and made a hasty exit.

And far into the night I kept saying, "John, did you have to say vanilla? Couldn't you have said cinnamon or something?" But he said he couldn't think of a thing but vanilla.

I will say for that lady -- she makes a cake the hard way.

Au revoir, Lucy.

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March 30, 1950

Dear folks:

Winter still lingereth. I notice from the naturalist's column that March is the month to build a house for bluebirds. They fly up from the South during this month and if they see a place that appeals to them they will come back in May and feather their nest. A fence-post is the logical place since they must be not much more than five feet from the ground, but the column mentioned that if it were possible to attach the house to the top wire between the posts, it would protect the birds from weasels. I see some starlings are chasing my dear little cardinals away from the food I put out. If I could just catch the low-down so-and-so who brought the first starling to our fair land he would rue the day!

Two wonderful things happened this week. The teacher got sick and the tobogganing was grand, both at once! The boys were only home for meals and each time they had to change into dry clothes and hang the wet ones over the heater. Yesterday afternoon Peter was gone for some time and came home so excited. He had been riding with a lot of other children "on a big toboggan, 'tached to a sleigh, 'tached to a big white horse!" He had fallen off several times and caught up again, and was worn to a frazzle but very happy!

I am beginning to get excited about the garden. Will those tulips we planted at Thanksgiving bloom or did a mouse eat them! It is my first venture with tulips out-of-doors. But between now and the garden comes housecleaning which ruins Spring for such as I1 Especially the part where you dump the dresser drawers on the bed and try to decide what to keep and what to donate to the Rummage Sale. Last year I donated John's summer suit because he said it was too tight, and I nearly had to go to the sale convenor and ask for it back.

We have all said goodbye to our old black cat. He was obviously going to lose his frozen foot and we could not face it. John said, 'Let's not have any more cats for awhile," but today I saw four of the cutest little kittens! When I went into the store for the milk, right beside the stove in a nicely lined basket reclined a mother cat and four babies. I remarked on their unusually cozy home and the store lady said, "Well, they began life in such luxurious surroundings I have to bring them down to earth gradually for fear of shock!" So of course I asked where they had begun life, and she said, "On my fur coat which was thrown over the end of the chesterfield!" So, whether a high class kitten like that would deign to reside in our humble abode or not is a question we must consider!

Au revoir, Lucy.

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April 6, 1950

Dear folks:

When I first started to write to you I had no doubt but that after the first one or two letters I would have exhausted all my conversation and have nothing left to write about, but now I find that my head is just like the Miraculous Pitcher. The more I take out of it the more there seems to be left. John says my tongue works that way too. There is no use waiting till I am finished because the more I ramble on - well, the more I ramble on!

Last night was our Home and School Executive meeting. It was rather spoiled for me because before it started a lady who belongs to our Church but who never goes, said she was never going back to our Church until we got a new minister! Then she went on to say such unkind things about the nice old gentleman that Lucy the worm turned and amazed herself and everybody else by simply mowing the speaker down! For some reason I always become very much upset when people say they don't go to church because they don't like the minister. The Lord must think this a pretty poor excuse for not worshipping in his Temple.

During the meeting we discussed the new curriculum in the schools starting in some districts next September. The one thing I have found to regret about this change so far is that the little text-books called My Garden of Stories, Golden Windows, and Gateways to Bookland will no longer be printed. These are beautiful books and an asset to any child's library at a minimum cost. As long as they are still available it would be wise to buy them for supplementary reading in the home.

Johnny is in the Fifth Grade this year and it is his first introduction to History and Geography which are now combined in one subject called Social Studies. he takes these subjects very seriously and really lives in what he reads. One day he came home almost in tears about the fate of Henry Hudson and another day in just the opposite mood because Christopher Columbus had reached America without mishap!

Yesterday he showed me some sentences where they had had to use certain words to show their meaning. I noticed that one word was "zest" and that he had written, "She put a lot of zest on her hamburger." He said the teacher had told him this was wrong and to look it up in the dictionary. But he said he had already looked it up and it said, 'relish." He said the teacher laughed and laughed! School teaching has its bright spots, it seems.

Until next week, Lucy.

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April 19, 1950

Dear folks:

The teacher has the mumps! What is worse, since his is the first case around here he thought it was tonsillitis or something and taught school all day Monday with badly swollen cheeks! Tuesday when the children arrived at school there was a supply teacher so we all expect to have the mumps for Easter. The new teacher, according to Peter, is "small but fierce."

The river beside the school has overrun its banks and the water is so deep on the bridge over the road that a neighbour has been taking the children over on his tractor, since the cars are too low and the water comes in the doors. However, this new teacher has an old Model A Ford and she just goes "put-put-put" right through it.

John and I had a nice evening out this week, rather an unusual event for us. As a rule one of us stays home one night and the other one the next, but Tuesday we secured a sitter for the boys and away we went. The Community Club executive was invited to a Court Whist Party at a neighboring community and it was really fun. At one table the game was played in absolute silence. Anyone who said one word had to forfeit three tricks. John said there was no hope for me in a game like that so imagine his chagrin when I captured first prize, a lovely cup and saucer. He said he wouldn't have believed it possible and I didn't tell him what a strain it was! The rest of the evening was slightly marred as I had to play for a sing-song, a job which really gets me down, but there was a lovely lunch which restored the good humour effectively.

Today, I went down to the Post Office and when I got back I found I had taken the wrong key and was locked out. So I had to go to the garage and get a hammer and bang on the window in the boys' room until the bar holding it gave way, when I climbed in the window, a most undignified procedure. Once before I tried this plan on the kitchen window but landed in the water pail so thought I would try another one this time!

Au revoir, Lucy.

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April 26, 1950

Dear folks:

Well, we are back to normal after a happy but exhausting Easter holiday in which we visited the relatives who are no doubt even more exhausted than we are! Some of the conversation was about Lucy. It was a Battle of the Sexes, the men of the family all proclaiming that Lucy should say who she is and cease to hide behind a nom de plume and the women all worried for fear their friends and neighbours would find out who she is and think the family slightly unhinged. Well, my only argument is that the only reason people would read a corny column like this would be out of curiosity to find out who is writing it and once they know they would naturally lose interest!

The boys were fairly well behaved when we were visiting until we came to say goodbye and start for home. At the last minute Peter went to the barn to look for his cap and came back with a slimy sodden lump which the calf had been chewing. Johnny made the mistake of laughing uproariously when he saw it whereupon Peter flew into a rage and the battle was on until John interfered as it seemed as if the back seat of the car was about to leave the front.

This has been a cold cloudy week for holiday time. The boys amused themselves in the house most of the time and at times amused me too. One day Johnny had a quiz book and was asking Peter questions in a supercilious tone as much as to say he knew all the answers but, of course, Peter would not know any. Poor Peter wracked his brains and came up with some marvellous answers, such as "The Capital of India is 'I'", and a papoose is the back end of a train."

So far no one has contracted the mumps from the teacher and the three weeks are almost up so we have our fingers crossed. It would be too bad if when the teacher comes back Monday all the children were sick but after all he would have nobody to blame but himself!

Au revoir, Lucy.

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May 4, 1950

Dear folks:

The inevitable has happened. On the last day of grace five pupils woke up with the mumps, including our poor Peter. He just has one side swollen so is not very sick and is very cross about staying inside on such lovely days. Some of our neighbours have some garden in but our place is so heavily wooded it takes longer to thaw than most. Yesterday the teacher took the children across the road from the school and into the bush where the farmers were making maple syrup. They each had a bit to taste and had to write about it in their note-books.

John came home at noon today so will stay with Peter while I go to visit Aunt Connie who is confined to her bed with a heart condition. I go to see her whenever I have time, not only for her sake but for mine. She is very clever and interesting. She reads voraciously and since I am of the same ilk we are never at a loss for conversation. Her room is practically lined with books and magazines. Coming from England she and Uncle Henry subscribe to quite a few English papers some of which are very enlightening. For instance, the women's magazines all seem to show needlework patterns such as ours except that where we have to send away for the pattern they enclose it with the magazine, or in the case of knitting or crochet the instructions are printed with the picture. The one I was looking at last week had a full-page transfer of a beautiful ship to use for a cushion cover or anything else it would suit. These magazines cost no more than ours so I really think we should look into this!

The marble season is in full swing. Johnny takes a few to school in his pocket and comes home with none or with so many more depending on his skill or luck, I don't know which. Last night he and Peter went around the house on their knees looking under everything for lost marbles. I finally joined in the search and managed to find a few whereupon I received one of the most doubtful compliments I have ever heard of. Peter said with unmistakable admiration, "My, mummy, you sure are a good looker!"

Au revoir, Lucy.

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May 11, 1950

Dear folks:
Here I am waiting for John to come home to supper. John Jr. is polishing a cornet which his Daddy brought home from band practice last night. He told Johnny that if he learned to play it well enough he could play in the band this summer. Peter says he would rather blow a big bass horn so we won't have to worry about him for awhile. Peter had a very slight case of mumps but is still in quarantine and as a result I am unable to get down to the store as easily so I am always running out of things and never have anything on hand for supper. Tonight I was stumped for awhile but have finally achieved lima beans and tomatoes and have phoned the grocer to send some Bacon home with John. We have decided to change our diet to include brown instead of white bread and it seems to be very successful so far although the baker tells us that people often try to do this and always go back to white. I think it depends partly on the quality of the brown bread you are able to buy. We have a small local baker here and we are sure all his goods have a home-made taste not available from large baking companies. There has been so much written lately about the superior food value of brown bread. Some authorities even claim that the reason we are more prone to polio, which is a nervous disease, when compared to races which eat whole grain cereals is due to lack of these vitamins.
A whole flock of blackbirds has descended on the feeding ground while I have been writing this, and are tearing around with pieces of bread in their beaks, making the most unmusical squawks just like the old barnyard gate on a windy night. We used to live near a large marsh and at this time of year the bulrushes there were literally full of red-winged blackbirds, much prettier than these, their cousins.
A couple of weeks ago I went to an executive meeting of the Home and School. The hostess had a rash on her face and arms and she remarked that she had been out in the wind which had affected her unusually sensitive skin. Someone said she looked like a case of measles but she just laughed and said her twelve-year-old daughter had an even more sensitive skin and that a few days before she had broken out in a terrible rash after coming in out of the wind. Well, we now hear her little son has a very bad rash! Three sensitive skins in one family, tsk, tsk.
We are now looking forward to measles along with the mumps!

Au revoir, Lucy.

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May 18, 1950

Dear folks:
This was a great day in our village. It was County Music Festival Day and our School had five entries consisting of three solos, a double trio, and the School Choir. Johnny has been looking forward to it for some time and was perfectly sure he would win nothing less than a gold medal for his solo! Well, a few nights ago he decided to practice on his cornet before going to bed and when he took a big breath and blew you should have seen the look of both pain and consternation on his face. He dropped the cornet, grabbed his ears and started to cry all at once. The next morning he looked like Peter Rabbit himself and was just down and out with disappointment. the teacher put someone else in the Double Trio and we are happy to report that they won the Silver Cup and got their pictures in the paper. Johnny felt worse than ever as the youngest member of the trio was allowed to hold the cup and have her picture taken all alone and if he had been there he would have been chosen as he was the youngest! Such a heartbreak! Peter got a ride to the Festival in the Teacher's car, but was rather disgusted as he had to sit on the knee of the Teacher's girl-friend who he said hugged him and maybe the teacher would have liked it but he didn't.
Johnny has been home for a week and has all next week still in quarantine. It seems a very long quarantine for such a simple disease as mumps but no doubt there is danger of cold. I find the only way to keep him from feeling dejected is to keep him busy and with housecleaning time upon us there are lots of things he can do. For instance, yesterday he worked all morning cleaning silver and this morning he took everything out of the kitchen cabinet and washed it and put them all back in. Doubtless I will never be able to find anything but it was worth it to keep his mind off his trouble. However this afternoon there was another blow to face. He made a Mother's Day card for me and put it carefully away till Mother's Day on page 20 of some book and he has forgotten the name of the book! How I can discover it and tell him without seeing it myself I don't know. This takes real thought!
By the way, don't you think there are more important things to worry about than the baptism ceremony. We have always been taught to believe that it is merely a promise by the parents to bring up the child in a Christian way of life and how anyone could take more than that out of the service used by the United Church I don't know. If it is confusing why not use the word "dedicate" instead of "baptize." No one could imagine that by this simple service a child's salvation could be assured. Each of us has to choose his own path and we certainly can't choose it at that age. After all there are fires and floods and atomic bombs to worry about so let's get busy. It's later than we think!

Until next week,
Lucy.

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June 1, 1950

Dear folks:

It is a good thing for me that May 24th only comes once in a year because another day like yesterday would be my finish. All Spring the boys have wanted to go fishing but the streams here are swift and deep and they had to wait till I could go with them, so yesterday was the day. All morning they sat around on the lawn with little jars of mustard and water dropping it down wormholes with spoons and then waiting breathlessly until the dew worm came up for air when they grabbed him. This to me is the best part of fishing but it is a mean trick to play on the worms. Maybe the reason we had no luck was because fish do not care for mustard with their food!
We decided we would really go for the big ones -- no kid stuff for us, so after lunch we started in a beeline for e the deepest part of the trout stream. The bush here is very dense and the undergrowth luxuriant. There are springs filled with watercress and cowslips and huge logs covered with moss and ferns continually block the path. I found some wild orchid plants and some other very unusual and delicate wild flowers but I doubt if I will ever have the nerve to go through there again to get them. Partridges kept zooming up at our feet frightening us nearly out of our wits but we kept on till suddenly we saw the river. We came out right at the rapids and stopped to bait our hooks. I made the mistake of baiting Peter's first and while I was getting Johnny's ready Peter ran to the river and threw his line in and immediately caught it on a log! He started in to get it but the clear water deceived him and he went over his rubber boots in no time. I did want to get to a clearing to put his socks and boots to dry so we had to cross the rapids to the other side of the river. I found that my own rubber boots leaked like a couple of sieves and was that spring water cold! Finally I had to carry my boots and Peter's, our socks, my sweater and the fishing poles and try to keep Peter from slipping in the meantime. We finally found a beautiful fishing spot with a big rock to dry out boots on and a partially submerged log to fish from. I thought of that poem, "Where the pools are bright and deep, Where the gray trout lie asleep." But how do you wake them up?
We fished for hours we thought. There were big brown fish lying on the bottom and we dangled the worms right in front of their noses but they wouldn't even move. In the meantime several little fellows kept eating worms and when we ran out of bait we found that Johnny had left the worms at the first stop and had to go back across the slippery rapids to get them. I could not help him, as I was afraid Peter would fall off the log and the water was very deep. In fact, if we had caught a big fish I am quite sure we would have all fallen off the log in an effort to land him. So we finally came home with nothing, following the river to the road for fear we would get lost in the wilderness. John made us feel better by saying that the big brown fish were no doubt suckers because trout would just flash by and will never bite if they can see you. You must crawl to the river on your tummy and insinuate the bait into the water so that the trout thinks it is all on its own!
The day before Victoria Day I had bought some fireworks and when the evening came do you think we could find them? We looked everywhere and the boys were almost weeping when I noticed a brown paper bag containing cookies on the lamp table. I thought, "What are those cookies doing there? -- that looks just like the bag the firecrackers were in" and then I woke up and made a bee-line for the cookie tin. Inside in a brown paper bag were the firecrackers! Well, John said, "Set a thief to catch a thief."
Au revoir, Lucy.

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June 8, 1950

Dear folks:
I am very tired today. Last night at the Annual Meeting of Home and School I made a wonderful speech to try to get out of going on next year's executive. I don't think I would be so tired if my speech had been successful but I am still on! If you say you are too busy everyone else can prove they are even busier and if you say you have too much community work already, all the others have just as much! To him that hath much shall be given!
So here we go and I do hope we can do more actual Home and School work next year. This was our first year and it is very hard to get people to come for anything but a good time. You must have cards and eats at the last or they won't come and as it is a lot of them try to escape the meeting and get there in time for the social. We suggested a Lucky Number Prize and the beginning of the meeting in order to get them to start promptly but we find the Home and School Federation frown on that sort of thing. A sing-song is very successful in this district as there are always plenty of children at our meetings and they love to sing. But as to actual Child Study Groups you can't discuss children when they are present and the parents cannot leave them at home so we must think up some other solution. We have achieved a large membership for a farm community nearly every family in the school district being represented. So now we have them by fair means or foul, the thing is to instruct them in School and Home relationships without letting them know what you are doing!
This town is simply agog over an incident that took place last week. There is an old barn beside the garage at the corner and one day the lady who owns it took another lady to show her some furniture she had stored in it. They heard some talking upstairs and when they went up they found that the daughter of the owner, a Grade Eight student, together with two smaller girls, was about to build a fire in a can on the floor! There is no fire protection here to speak of and before reels could come the whole corner would have gone up in smoke. What amazed everybody even further was that instead of severely punishing her daughter the lady blamed the other little girls for letting her do it as she said her daughter has not been right since she had the measles and the other children should look after her! Well, maybe she isn't right but I hope she doesn't have to burn down the village to prove it!
Last night Johnny went to band practice for the first time and enjoyed it immensely. He said at first he was worried because he couldn't play the music at all but finally the Bandmaster looked over his shoulder and said, "Why, that's not the music for your instrument," and wend and brought some more which he could play easily! A fine way to start him off!
Later on John said he was sitting here reading when Peter wandered out of his room in his pyjamas looking wide awake and climbed up on his knee and hugged him. He thought this was fine until he noticed Peter was calling him "Mummy" when he found that he was sound asleep with his eyes open so he took him back to bed pronto!

Au revoir, Lucy.

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June 15, 1950

Dear folks:
It looks quite a bit like rain this afternoon and I do hope we get some. A couple of weeks ago the dandelions were so noticeable on the lawn that I got a knife and spent a couple of hours sitting about digging them up and then I stood up to view the result and received a terrific shock. Our lawn had practically been made out of dandelions. So we bought some grass seed and broadcast it on the bare spots but it is still lying there as there has been no rain since. Every night just at dusk we get pails of water and cans with holes all over them to use for sprinklers, and we water all the flowers and the tomato plants. But it does not do the job that old Mother Nature can do when she finally takes over.
I don't think I ever remember the mosquitoes being so numerous or so hungry as they are this year. They simply devour you if you go outside in the evening. And have you noticed the June bugs? A lady who has a large garden was telling me this afternoon that they have stripped all the leaves off their raspberries and their beans that have just come up. I didn't know that they were very harmful before.
Our little wren finally has the birdhouse practically full of twigs and feathers so has decided to call it a day and is now nesting. We did enjoy watching her lug the twigs branch by branch up to the nest. Often she let one fall two or three times and practically tumbled to the ground on top of it when she grabbed it and started up again. Sometimes she couldn't get it in the doorway and once it was so long there was still an inch or two sticking out and was she upset. She kept sticking her head out trying to pull it all in but it still sticks out. We think she is a very untidy housekeeper! Her mate flutters around providing nothing but moral support and I must say, excellent music.
We also have a mourning dove nesting in our trees. One day Peter was up fairly high in a cedar and saw the dove on her nest in a nearby tree fairly close to the ground. He was so excited about it that finally I went out and climbed the tree myself and there she was, a slim gray bird, not upset because here home was being inspected. But Peter was so surprised because I could climb a tree just about as easily as he could that he has viewed me with great respect ever since. Those poor boys have been labouring under the illusion that mother was a lady!

Au revoir, Lucy.

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June 22, 1950 (?)

Dear folks:
Today we painted the dining room a lovely blue shade called Willowick. I went ahead with the paint while Johnny came behind with a damp cloth to clean up the mess. The ceiling and wainscoting are plywood and we painted the furniture pale yellow. the whole effect is very pleasing. Colour in kitchens and dinettes appeals to me -- the black and white modern effects are too much like a hospital. But have you noticed the new hospital decorating schemes include colour and an effort to bring a homelike atmosphere into the sufferer's long hours - a welcome change to my way of thinking. When Johnny had his tonsils out the nursery at the hospital was pale green and the windows were hung with cream drapes across which Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs sang and grumbled and sneezed!
Early tomorrow morning I have to drive a friend to the doctor to have stitches put in her little girl's forehead. She just phoned that a little neighbour boy had hit her daughter with a stone and cut her badly. Stones are bad business. The wire fairly sizzled with my friend's invective to the effect that "if his mother doesn't do something with that child, I will!"
We have two new little birds and we hope they are going to nest in our trees. They are both warblers. One is the Blackburnian Warbler, a tiny black and white fellow with a bright orange head and throat. The other is all yellow with a bit of orange on his head. He is called the Yellow Warbler. The reason I know so much is not because I am smart but because we have a good Bird Book! They both sing beautifully and we do hope they will stay. The cardinals are still around but the female has changed into her gray gown for inconspicuous nesting. Wrens are here in abundance. Every spring when the wrens come we think of one spring during the war when I had washed some of John's socks and hung them on the line to dry. We were having breakfast when we noticed one of the socks jumping up and down like a live thing and all at once a little wren flew out and was back shortly with some twigs when she dived into the sock again and packed them into the toe. John said, "The housing shortage must be even worse than they say," and ran down cellar to make a birdhouse. By the time he had it made Jenny had the toe of his sock packaged with twigs but he took them all out and put them in her nice new house and she moved in without a struggle. John hung his socks up toe-first as they were still damp.
Last night Johnny and Peter had run a piece of hose through a hole in the foundation of the house into the cellar and were talking to each other through it. The mistake was in Peter being outside and Johnny in the cellar because the soft water barrel was right beside Peter. Well, after things got a little bit stale he took a little can, dipped some of the dirty water out of the barrel and poured it down the hose. Of course Johnny was talking earnestly into the other end but his conversation came to an abrupt halt. He flew upstairs to the sink where he gasped and sputtered trying to get the germs out of his innards; then he grabbed the disinfectant and gargled loud and long. In the meantime I played the heavy parent to that young rascal as Johnny might have caught a typhoid germ and if he did I will spank Peter again just for good measure.

Angrily yours, Lucy.

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June 29, 1950

Dear folks:
Summer is here at last and what storms we are having! The garden should really come along by leaps and bounds with such abundant rain. The soil in this district is very light and stony and gardening is rather discouraging work. There is a weed which really gets us down. I don't know the name of it but it grows flat against the ground and is very prickly with a blue flower growing up the stem. It just spreads itself over everything you plant and chokes it out. The rain is good for it too!
We are all enjoying the old swimming-hole these days. The boys learned to swim last year but the river is quite deep so I still have an excuse to go with them. This year John said my old bathing suit was a disgrace and I simply must get a new one but the styles have changed so much that I felt the new one was even more shocking. I particularly stipulated a flared skirt in the order but they said they had to substitute so the one they sent had no skirt at all and very little top. The boys thought it was wonderful and whistled as wolfishly as they knew how and John said he saw worse sights than that every day but somehow I could not face the village in it so sent it back with regrets. Then I went to town myself and got a much cheaper one with a full skirt and plenty of top!

Yesterday when Peter came home from school he wanted to go fishing so we went to the creek that flows through the village and he fished under the bridge while I stood on it and talked to various people who came by. All at once in the middle of a conversation a very muddy running shoe flew up over the bridge and hit me square on the chest leaving a large dirty shoe print on my clean sweater. I just had time to run to the edge of the bridge to yell at Peter when the other one came over luckily missing everyone. He looked so innocent and explained so seriously that he was taking off his shoes and socks so he could fish better, that he got off fairly well even though I still had to go to the store for the milk in that condition.

Poor John had a very sad experience today. Mrs. Smith who lives next door came over in quite a state and asked him if he would asphyxiate their cat as she had got her leg broken in a trap and Mrs. Smith remembered he had had a similar experience with our cat last winter. After dinner he brought the cat and her one small kitten over as she did not think she could rear the kitten without her mother. Well, John got the bag as usual and put the cats in it and tied it on the exhaust of the car. After a few minutes he took it off and was about to bury them when Mrs. Smith said she would rather conduct the funeral herself so she took the bag across the hedge to her house. Before she could make preparations she saw the bag begin to heave. She screamed for her husband and John and when they opened the bag they found that the mother was quite dead but the kitten very much alive which has us baffled. So they had to "do" the kitten again while the children who weren't supposed to know anything about it were bawling their eyes out! Moral: don't try to save gas at a time like this!

Au revoir, Lucy.

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July 13, 1950

Dear folks:

We broke the typewriter last week and since Uncle Henry was expecting company I did not like to use theirs, hence, no Lucy. The "C" flew right off its base when John gave it a good poke in typing a cheque for the Community Club. However, I don't suppose anyone even noticed I was missing. Boohoo!
The holiday season has come and we are just up to the eyes in work. Today I bought eighteen quarts of strawberries and paid the boys a nickel a quart to hull them. I expected they would tire after a quart or two but if Johnny didn't make fifty cents and Peter twenty five. I'll know better next time. John will do them for nothing. We have promised to take the boys to see "Cinderella" tomorrow so are all expecting a rare treat.
A couple of old friends came to visit for the week-end with their two small girls. The best piece of news they brought concerned another couple we knew well before we moved here who had just about reached humanity's lowest level through that old demon, Alcohol. When we left that town the man in the case was a moderate drinker but like most "moderate" drinkers, gradually growing a little more careless and drinking a little more each day. Finally he lost his job and his wife, a very lovely person, went to work to keep the family while things grew worse and worse till a really desperate situation prevailed. Well, here is the wonderful part of this story. This man, through the work of a Baptist mid-week group and also his own Anglican Church friends and last but not least, Alcoholics Anonymous, has become "converted" not in the emotional way we generally hear about, but in a quiet way where actions speak louder than words. His life has changed completely and when I think how happy his wife must be I am really thrilled. This is the first time we have known anyone personally whose lives had been changed by the A.A. and believe me, it is a wonderful experience for their friends so what it must mean to them is something to think about.
The School Picnic took place last week and was a doubtful success. The teacher undertook to make a ceremony of presenting the reports to the children at the picnic and this was fine for the ones who were promoted but he had several irate parents on his neck whose children had failed and for whom the picnic was a decided flop. One little girl whose parents had foolishly bribed her with a new bicycle if she passed, had of course failed and her streaming eyes were a sorry sight at a picnic. However, Johnny and Peter who had very good standing, pointed out that Donna had won two races and some lovely prizes wh8ile they tried and tried and couldn't win a thing, so they didn't see why she was crying so hard as you just can't be good at everything. I really think Johnny and Peter could have done with a bit more schooling at that as Johnny just came in and said, "My! Isn't this heat stiffling?" whereas yesterday Peter said, "Mummy, when are we going on
our vaccination?"

Au revoir, Lucy.

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(undated)

Dear folks:
Well, what a vacation! Everything went wrong with it. The first few days were lovely but, unfortunately, a lot of the festivity took place at the end and our whole family seemed to be on the blink. I was the first to notice a very fluey feeling with a bad case of sniffles but went right on holidaying refusing to succumb. Then Peter got sick and was he sick! We phoned the doctor who thought it was flue and ordered sulpha but he grew steadily worse and finally spots appeared and we discovered he had a bad dose of measles.
In the meantime poor John had caught my cold and was going around trying to put on a holiday look with his eyes and nose streaming and his voice in his boots! Johnny and the dog were the only ones enjoying themselves and finally the little dog evidently thought it was just too much to bear and she lay down in the middle of the yard and died! Poor Johnny wept and worried, but Peter was so sick he did not even miss her, so I did not tell him till we were home and he was better. He looked as if he was going to cry for a minute but then he set his chin and said in a hard little voice, "O.K. let's forget it." Later, however, I asked him if he would like me to buy a Burgess story-book so I could read to him, and he said, "No, I'm saving my money for a puppy." I felt so bad I bought the book anyway.
Well, Peter is better now but so thin that Johnny called him Shadow the Measle, which was smart but not appreciated.
However, before we went on vacation I had a happy experience. Last spring the diamond fell out of my ring and we felt very badly having no hope of finding it. Just before we left for holidays I was looking for a needle and I finally upset the pin-box and began sorting them out and if I didn't find that diamond! I had lost it once before when driving the car and saw it shining on the floor beside the gearshift. I don't deserve such luck.

Au revoir till next week, Lucy.

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(undated)

Dear folks:
Well, my typewriter has been sent away to be fixed and I hope it comes back soon as this scrawl must be hard on the editors. Also I hope it does not cost more than that old machine is worth.
When we arrived home last week people soon learned about the sudden death of our little dog, Blondie, and the very next week a friend came down one evening with a beautiful dog almost the image of the one we lost and told us we could have him for free. It seems this was one of Blondie's puppies, which he had bought from us a couple of years ago and presented to his mother. This lady lives by a very busy railroad station and the dog howled at all the whistles and kept her awake all night until she said if she could find him a home a long way from a railway track she would give him away. The new pup's name is Sandy. The boys were so happy we felt we must take him even though we had decided to have a rest from dogs for awhile. Sandy is very happy, and simply loves boys!
We ordered a bicycle for Johnny a couple of weeks ago and he hoped and hoped it would come before he got the measles as the doctor said he would not get them for a couple of weeks after Peter. Talk about the joys of anticipation, the first time we went to town after ordering the bicycle, Johnny took all his money out of his bank and bought a little tool-kit with a wrench in it and a tire mending outfit and a rear mud guard flap with a shining reflector on it! He fairly drooled over these articles all day and kept them beside his bed at night, and once we even caught him galloping up and down the road holding the reflector on behind and trying to see it shine at the same time! Well, alas for Johnnie! When at last the bicycle came he was in bed with a temperature nearing 105 degrees and simply plastered with measles. However, John brought the bicycle in and stood it beside the bed while poor Johnny did his best to get a good look through swollen eyes and dark glasses.
Peter has rather short legs and has to wait until they grow before he can have a "bike." Tonight he told us at supper-time that he was playing with some other children when a girl came up to him and said, "Peter, what do bees make?" and when he said, "Honey" the girl slapped him and said, "Don't be fresh." Then she ran away giggling and pretty soon another girls came up and said, "Peter, what do bees make?" But this time he was ready and he said, "Beeswax!" and that fooled her.

Au revoir, Lucy.

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August 1950

Dear folks:
I am certainly sorry for summer cottagers in this weather. There is a large church camp near us and we keep wondering how those poor children are faring in tents but yesterday I asked the proprietor and got such a sharp answer anyone could plainly see I should have kept quiet. It was a touchy subject all right! We light the oil stove every morning to dry the house out and my washing has been on the line for two days. Johnny is still not over the measles and I am so afraid the damp weather will affect his complete recovery. It seems to me everyone I meet greets me with, "So your boys have the measles. They left Charles with rheumatic fever," or "both our children have had asthma ever since." People are so encouraging.
I see some prominent doctors are now changing their former views to the extent of admitting that spanking is necessary in some cases, i.e. to keep a child from doing something that endangers his life or safety. Now I thought the former case against spanking was that it made the child antagonistic and therefore he would defy you and do the very thing he was spanked for. In other words it did not get the desired result. Therefore, to spank to keep a child out of danger would only drive him into it! It seems to me these people are contradicting themselves like anything! I am awfully glad we never did agree with them in the first place.
Once we had some friends whose oldest boy had broken his arm when he fell from a tree so from that time on not one of their five children was allowed to climb a tree! John always said that the thing was not to stop them from climbing but to teach them how to hang on, but sometimes we think he overdid it. One day when Peter was two years old John had a ladder up against the house and was on the roof cleaning the eves-troughs. He heard a noise and turning around saw Peter just coming over the top of the ladder onto the roof. He was afraid to be cross for fear Peter would turn around and start down again so he just held his breath till everything was under control and then it was an unlucky day for Peter.

Au revoir, Lucy.

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Dear folks:
The days are so full and fly by so fast that I have a hard time to squeeze in a few minutes for letters to my friends. Summer is practically gone and nothing done yet! We are having our Sunday School picnic tomorrow. It is a bit late but there is an excellent park near here where the children love to picnic and it is very busy all through the early part of the season.
Tonight we had to take Peter to the doctor to get seven stitches out of his knee, which were put in last week! He went swimming down at the dam as usual but pretty soon a big boy brought him home on his bicycle with his leg badly cut where he had fallen on something sharp. I had no car that day but a neighbour kindly took us to the hospital where they gave Peter a local anaesthetic and stitched his leg up. He was very good and never shed a tear although he said it was numb and hurt very little. He got a needle for lockjaw and said, "I just grinned and beared it." Johnny and I were ejected to the corridor while the operation was being performed. While we were waiting the most terrible screams suddenly began coming from the direction in which Peter was and for a moment we were really worried. I said, "Don't tell me that's Peter!" and Johnny said, "Didn't they give him the anaesthetic?" Just then we heard the child say "Mummy" and we could tell it was a younger child than Peter and the blood sort of flowed back into my face. Then I thought, "How selfish I am! Some other mother must be going through that!" Just then a nurse came down the hall supporting a little woman who was doing her best to keep from losing control of herself. I recognized her as a member of our Home and School club so after the nurse left I went over and spoke to her. She said her little three-year-old boy had fallen and a stick had gone into his mouth and had cut the side of his throat. The doctors were trying to give him ether to stitch the cut and she said he was terrified. It seems last year he was in the hospital for six months with polio and she said he had such a grim experience with nurses and doctors at that time he hasn't forgotten it yet!
Just then the doctor came down the hall with Peter who had a big smile on his face because he knew he had acquitted himself nobly and we left feeling very grateful things were no worse. When we listen to other people's troubles we realize how few we have of our own and thank the good Lord for our many blessings.

Au revoir for now, Lucy.

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Dear folks:
This has been a lovely week -- lots of sunshine and the harvest at its height. My garden is really worth seeing and I feel my hours of toil in the Spring are well rewarded. At the May meeting of the Women's Association each member promised to donate fifty cents or sell its equivalent in goods so that the money could be turned in to the church. One lady said she would sell two dozen gladiolus bulbs for her donation. Well, I jumped at that opportunity as we had no gladioli and this woman has a reputation for good ones. I certainly got a bargain for they are now blooming and are worth a prize anywhere. My favorite at present is a very dark red with ragged edges, an unusual bloom to me.
We also held our annual Bazaar and Church Tea in the Town Hall yesterday which was very successful. There are two small children staying here for the summer who are the champion juvenile roller skaters of Canada and they kindly offered their talent to help in the program. After most of the bazaar items were sold we pushed the tables back to make room for the skaters. Their performance proved a novel and successful entertainment and was probably the reason for the very large crowd.
Johnny and Peter went fishing today with another little boy they know. Peter still can't swim as his knee has not healed as quickly as we hoped. A gentleman came along when they were fishing and let them all shoot at a target with his air rifle. Johnny proved champion and got a very tinny looking medal and a quarter for his prowess! I do not approve of this at their age but it was too late to say anything when they came home.
We are having a well drilled beside the house at the back. Uncle Henry who seems to be the "Water-Diviner" for this village as well as most other things came up with a crotched limb from a sweet apple tree and found several springs right close to the house. We all tried the "witching" but only Peter had any success. At first we thought he was up to one of his tricks but found out he has the peculiar mineral or whatever it is in his system that responds to the running water below the ground. I had no success whatever, but when he put his little hands over mind the stick turned in my hands in spite of me, and it was the funniest feeling! All the wells are drilled in this district because of the rock. However, yesterday the driller ran into what they called "rolling gravel" at about 17 feet down and it kept rolling under the casing and pushing it up. This morning they brought some blue clay which they travelled fifteen miles to get and put it down the hole to bind the gravel together. I haven't asked the result yet as I can see they are in no humour for answering questions!

Au revoir till next week, Lucy.

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September 1950

Dear folks:
We have a girl in our family at last! We have just borrowed her while her mother is ill but what a change it is from looking after boys! For instance, one day she actually came in and asked if she could wash her hands as she had sand on them. Johnny and Peter could hardly believe their ears. They almost have to be knocked unconscious and dragged to the sink at mealtime! Then she takes such an interest in her clothes and if you dress her all up and curl her hair she is simply delighted, whereas boys would only glare at you and sulk if you fixed them up the least bit. However, she is trying so hard to act like the boys I am afraid her mother will be shocked. She gets a little cap-gun and goes banging around the house like the boldest brigand out of the West. Although only four our little girl claims Santa is bringing her a motorcycle for Christmas so I think I had better warn her mother to be prepared. It is always wise for grown-ups to co-operate at times like these. One day my sister's little seven-year-old lost a tooth and one of her friends told her to put it under the rug and a fairy would leave a nickel. However the friend forgot to mention it to my sister and the next morning there was a badly disappointed child and now she doesn't believe in fairies any more!
Well, we have just had another session with that Peter. Tonight he staggered into the house looking positively green and said he was just terribly sick. I put him to bed and began to worry my head off. I was sure it was nothing less than a heart attack from riding too hard on his bicycle. When John came home he went in to see him and came out with a very peculiar expression on his face. I wanted to send for the doctor but John said leave him alone and he would soon be all right. After awhile a neighbour phoned and said that she had caught him and her Kenny trying to smoke one of her husband's dirty old pipes! Of course, Peter finally confessed to it and John said afterwards that he was suspicious as soon as he saw him because Peter looked just like he felt the first time he tried it! Johnny was simply shocked as the very thought of Hughie’s pipe makes him gag. John rendered a very good lecture on your sins finding you out and when you do wrong you always have to pay for it, etc. But for the time being I think Peter has had enough. The only pity is that Kenny got off scot-free and Peter thinks there ain't no justice!

Au revoir, Lucy.

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September 28, 1950

Dear folks:

This is Friday, the day when I try to do a whole week's work and generally end up with nothing don at all! John has just dug the potatoes as some of them were rotting. However, the rest are really beautiful potatoes. Our carrots started out with great promise but since Peter invested in a bunny the carrot crop has dwindled almost away. We are now having family conferences every night on "What to do with Thumper" now that winter's coming, but so far have not reached any conclusion. John wants a rabbit pie and this always leads to a swift adjournment of the meeting. Peter wants to sell the rabbit and get a kitten and once he told us he had sold it and we thought our troubles were over until we discovered that the buyer was Johnny who was going to give his last fifty cents to keep the rabbit in the family! I was neutral until one day when I heard someone talking in the cellar and on going down I found Peter and Joanne, who also owns a bunny. They had taken all the jars out of my fruit closet and put the bunnies in!
Then John said we would have to buy bedding for the rabbit in the winder so that was another point in favour of the pie. However that night the boys went to the dump and someone had kindly dumped a couple of straw ticks slightly mildewed. So all evening, Daddy being away and Mummy keeping out of it, they pedaled back and forth to the dump with baskets transporting straw to the cellar. There was a straw path right down the steps and every bushel basket and even my clothes-basket was packed with bedding for Thumper. So now we have to take a fresh grip on ourselves and start all over again. I expect we will end up with several rabbits and a kitten and a couple of guinea pigs.
Johnny has a little friend named Michael who comes from Bermuda. Before Bermuda he lived in England and has traveled extensively in Europe and Africa. Johnny is intrigued with Michael's accent and cosmopolitan background. One night Michael brought his stamp collection to show us and I, who often wondered what people see in stamps, got the fever along with Johnny. That night Johnny read all the letters in the Maple Leaf Club in the Family Herald and decided to write to a little English boy who wanted to exchange stamps. So the letter was written and posted and now he is waiting very impatiently for an answer.
The dentist came to the school this week and inspected all the teeth. We were much pleased that both the boys had a clear card with N.D. meaning No Dentistry needed. In Peter's case we thought it should have been N.T. meaning No Teeth because right now there is very little for a dentist to work on. The dental work is all free here for Public Schools which is a wonderful thing. John says it is just our luck that the boys need very little work on their teeth, which is a very short-sighted way of looking at it.
Au revoir, Lucy.

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October, 1950

Dear folks.
I know I have neglected my friends lately but, really -- the only good thing one can say about the goings-on in our family is that life doesn't get tedious! However, good sometimes comes out of bad. We would never have had our little girl if my sister hadn't been at death's door and for the last two weeks we have had the mother too while she recuperates from very extensive surgery. I think one of the traits one must have to meet a situation such as this with courage and faith in the future is humour, and this my sister has in abundance. Any situation can be met if one sees the funny side and thank heaven there always is one. But when you consider the people who have never had a pain in their lives and who continually wring their hands over imagined ills, you can only be thankful for the example of those who can face the real thing without flinching. The back is aye made for the burden, or in modern slang, the Lord knows who can take it! You know, once I had an operation and I hope if I ever mention it again somebody will slap me down because compared to this I haven't even had so much as a tonsil out! Speaking of tonsils one day our little girl came in and said that all the other girls around here have their tonsils out and did she have hers out yet. Her mother said no, she hadn't had to have anything like that yet, thank goodness, and the little girl said, "Well, aren't I even borned?"

Last weekend we had a lovely trip. We have relatives in St. Thomas who kindly invited us there for Thanksgiving. This is a strange part of the country to me and the drive through the tobacco fields was very interesting. They have several high, narrow buildings on each farm where the tobacco is hung on racks and dried by some sort of heating system. John said they call those smoke houses where they smoke the tobacco. Johnny and Peter both said, "Why can't they smoke it outside like other people do?" So John had to be a little more explicit.
When we passed through Aylmer I went into one of the shops to buy a pair of nylons. When I came out and we were again on our way to St. Thomas I looked down at my lap and I didn't only have the bag with the pair I bought but under that I had the flat box the salesman had taken them out of! There were two pairs of unsold stockings still in it. John refused to go back and chuckled all the way to St. Thomas while I kept looking out of the back window for the police. He said we could take them back on our way home but when we went back on Monday of course the place was closed for Thanksgiving, so I still have the stockings and am sending a Money Order for $3.30 as John says I would have to buy more sometime so why not now? I really think the joke is on him as I now have some lovely hosiery and will be able to give a pair away for Christmas.
Au revoir, Lucy.

Copyright © 2000 Eileen Harrington McIntosh