A Prairie as Wide as the Sea Read online

  I knew he was thinking of the sea – that the prairie was like the sea. He didn’t need to say it.

  Then we went back to the coach and Dad saw that nobody was using the stove yet, so he said he would start breakfast for us, and that I should go back to bed and coast until it was ready. So I’m back in bed, but writing, not coasting.

  May 18

  Winnipeg, Manitoba

  We’re on a new train. This line is called the Canadian Pacific. Everyone is asking why the train isn’t leaving. We had a few hours in this city, which is called Winnipeg. At school there were two sisters called Winnie and Peggy Plumley. They should come and live here.

  We went to a Chinese restaurant. I was a bit scared because I have never seen a Chinese person before and in Magnet magazine all the Chinese men have long moustaches and long knives. But it wasn’t like that. In real life the Chinese restaurant man was just ordinary. Had a joke with the twins. The only knife he had was the one he used to cut the blueberry pie. Blueberry pie must be a Canadian food. It is lovely. The twins had blue mouths. We sat at a counter with red stools that twirled.

  Then we went for a walk. We saw a sign on a livery stable that said, “Help Wanted. Englishmen Need Not Apply.” Mother said wasn’t that a fine welcome. I don’t understand. In the Canada West book it says that Canadians want English people to come. What if nobody likes us? But that’s rushing to meet trouble halfway and I’m not going to. It is probably just one grumpy livery man.

  Anyway, the horses were lovely. I peeked in. But Mother said come along. I wanted to say, “Where does it say ‘English Girls Need Not Peek?’” But I didn’t because that would be cheeky.

  First Chinaman. First blueberry pie. First twirly stool.

  May 19

  Somewhere between Maple Creek and Milorie

  I am fit to burst. We are nearly there but it is taking forever. At Regina we switched trains to the mixed train. That means it takes people and freight. It also means it stops every eight miles at a town. Things get unloaded and loaded up and people stand on the platform and talk and talk and talk. This distance looks so little on the map but it is taking YEARS.

  Still May 19

  We made it. I used to be:

  Ivy Doris Weatherall

  107 Halley Road

  Forest Gate, London

  England

  Europe

  The World

  and now I’m:

  Ivy Doris Weatherall

  Sec.1-6-26-W3rd

  Uncle Alf’s sod house

  Five Miles from Milorie

  Saskatchewan

  Canada

  North America

  The World

  The only thing the same is me and The World.

  When we arrived at the train station in Milorie there were a lot of people on the platform. It took us a few minutes to find Uncle Alf. He was there with a team and wagon. A team means horses, not like the West Ham United football team. He gave us huge hugs and pretended not to know me because I was so grown-up and Mother cried a little bit. Auntie Millie and Baby Jack didn’t come, because we would need all the room on the wagon for our things. Mr. Gilmour, a nice man called a station master, took us all home and his wife gave us tea and scones. Mrs. Gilmour said she made scones to make us feel at home because we are English. Mr. Gilmour told us that most of the people at the station had come down to look at us. “You’re the big news in Milorie today,” he said. I’ve never been news before.

  Then we walked down the road and looked at the shops, which are a general store, two banks, a hardware store (that’s Canadian for ironmongers), a garage, a livery stable, a blacksmith, and a doctor’s office. Also there is a school and a church. The only tall buildings are two grain elevators. That’s where they store wheat and that.

  Then we all got on the wagon and we went along this dirt road full of ruts and the wagon went up and down and tippy and the two horses went plod plod. The twins went to sleep. How could they go to sleep when it is the most exciting day of our lives?

  Dad asked Uncle Alf how many head of cattle he had and then I asked if he had a wireless. Then Uncle Alf got quiet and said that things in Canada weren’t quite what they told you up at Canada House in London. Then he started to talk about the government and the railroad and politics and he sounded angry. But when he asked about all the relatives he got funny again.

  William didn’t sleep. He was excited too and he held my hand. Dad asked Uncle Alf where the pub was and Uncle Alf said there wasn’t one and then Dad said, “What kind of godforsaken country have I come to?” and then Mother flicked him on the skull with her finger.

  Then we got to Uncle Alf’s house and it was a big surprise. We saw a wooden building, not painted at all, almost tumbledown, with rooms on either side made of sod. That’s like dirt bricks. It has grass on the roof, like in the story of the silly woman who tried to put her cow up on her roof. I thought this was a shed for animals but I’m glad I didn’t say so, because it is their real house!

  When I thought of Halley Road and the flowers in the front garden and how Dad paints the front door every year I felt scared and homesick. I could tell that Mother and Dad were surprised too. Mother didn’t say anything at all, and I saw her give Dad a look. But then Auntie Millie and Baby Jack came out to greet us and there was more crying and more hugging and then more tea. Baby Jack is lovely. Then there were stories about all the aunts and uncles and cousins and Uncle Alf got silly and it was fine again.

  William and I took the twins exploring. There is an outdoor privy and a barn. In the barn are chickens and a cow. Gladys found an egg! And when we took it back Auntie Millie said that I could milk the cow in the morning. The cow’s name is Sally and she looks very friendly. I can hardly wait. At least part of the wait will be sleeping. I don’t know where we will sleep because the shanty is small for six extra people. Maybe I can sleep up on the grass roof.

  My hand is tired from writing. Today there is so much to say that I wish I had one of those typewriting machines that Auntie Lou has in her office in London.

  Very last thing, a bit private. In the outhouse (Canadian word) there is a big catalogue from the T. Eaton Company. You can read it and then you tear out a page and use it for loo paper. Is that what everybody uses in Canada?

  May 20

  Banished to the Fields

  (In Lost in the Backwoods each page has a title, like “A Weighty Consideration” or “Forest Dainties.” I’m going to try it.)

  All my life I’ve wanted to sleep out under the stars and last night I did! (But not on the roof.) Uncle Alf put a couple of straw mattresses out for William and me. The moon was so bright it made shadows. I kept waking up and wondering where I was and why I wasn’t moving.

  Chickens wake up very early. William and I went down the road a bit before anyone else stirred. We saw little furry creatures who pop out of holes and have a look round and pop down again. They are dear. I picked some flowers. (If I were Catharine I would know all their common and Latin names but I’m not and I don’t.) When we got back I gave the flowers to Auntie Millie and she got sad and said they would die right away and how much she missed her rose garden at home in England.

  She cheered up after breakfast and tried to teach me to milk Sally. It is much harder than it looks. I couldn’t manage it. The cow kept turning her head and giving me a comical look.

  Auntie Millie is very pretty. She has bobbed hair. I long to have bobbed hair. She told me that she used to take me for walks in my pram when I was a baby. She wanted to know all about home and had I been to the pictures and did I remember the fireworks on Halley Road at the Armistice Celebrations. She said she would give anything to put on a nice hat and take the tram into the centre of London and have tea at Lyons Corner House.

  Lyons is jolly but I’d rather learn to milk Sally and drive a team.

  After dinner Mr. Burgess who runs the general store arrived and everybody looked serious and Mother sent me away with the twins and Baby Jack. Tha
t’s where I am now. Banished to the fields. Baby Jack can walk if you hold his hands. Harry and Gladys are making him laugh by pulling faces.

  I wonder what is happening back at the house. Felt like some grown-ups-only secret when Mother shoved me out the door. William will tell me.

  Later

  I still don’t know the secret – if that’s what it is. Dad and Uncle Alf and William went off with Mr. Burgess in his wagon. And Mother, of course, isn’t saying.

  The creatures are called gophers.

  May 21

  The Truth About Uncle Alf

  William told me everything. Uncle Alf doesn’t have a ranch. He rents his farm. He owes money in every shop in town. Mr. Burgess has offered William a job working in the general store, but half his wages go toward paying off Uncle Alf’s debts. Mr. Burgess has found us a house of our own to live in, because we certainly don’t all fit in this one. So Mother and Dad said yes. The house is on a farm and we move tomorrow.

  William isn’t very happy. He wanted to be riding the range in Canada, not serving in a shop. Everybody is angry at Uncle Alf but I still like him. He calls Gladys “Glad-Eyes.” He can walk on his hands and whistle at the same time. He did it this morning.

  Mother did a wash today. Auntie Millie showed her how to do a wash in Canada. She said the water was so hard that you have to use lye so the soap works. Then she said how it makes your hands red and ugly. Then she had a little weep. Mother just said, “Never mind and wasn’t it lovely drying weather.”

  May 22

  A Mean Mother

  I tried milking again today. Still can’t manage it. Auntie Millie says, “Squeeze, don’t pinch,” but it doesn’t work. Auntie Millie was nice about it though. She is nice, not like Mother. When I was carrying the pail of milk back to the kitchen I was just dancing a bit and I tripped and spilled half the milk. Later I heard Mother tell Auntie Millie that I was a flibbertigibbet. Then she said that if she and Dad had stopped with William they would have felt like perfect parents. Then she and Auntie Millie went laugh, laugh, laugh in a perfectly ROTTEN way. I am not a flibbertigibbet. It’s just that Mother is so impatient and fast that she makes me make mistakes. I wanted to go climb a tree. At home when things are rotten I would always go to the cemetery and climb a tree. But there aren’t many trees around Uncle Alf’s. I miss home. I miss Grandad. He doesn’t think I’m a flibbertigibbet. He thinks I’m a princess. I miss trees and Auntie Lou and Chivers and Ethel. Mother is mean. I’m going to write a letter to Ethel. No I’m not. Mr. Burgess has arrived with the wagon to move us.

  May 22½

  Weatherall Palace

  Last night it rained so we had to move inside. It was a tight fit. Gladys and I had to sleep with our heads at opposite ends of the mattress. When everyone was lying down we couldn’t open the door. I felt like a sardine.

  But we aren’t sardines anymore! We are in our own house. Auntie Millie cried when we left. The farm is called the Fretwell Farm. The Fretwells were an American family. Mr. Fretwell died in a farm accident and the rest of the family moved back to Minnesota. The house is lovely and big. There is an upstairs with three bedrooms. There is some furniture like beds and a big kitchen table. There is a barn and a henhouse. There is also, of course, an outhouse – it’s a two-holer. One hole is regular size and one is small. This is good because at Uncle Alf’s Gladys was afraid of the outhouse. She thought she was going to fall down the hole.

  I really wanted to play in the barn but I had to help unpack.

  The first thing we unpacked was the gramophone. We kept winding it up and winding it up and playing the record we got for last Christmas, “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles.” Unpacking things made Mother much cheerier.

  We had sausages for tea. For a treat we got to use the good cups and saucers. Even the twins. I still like the forget-me-not cup the best.

  I’m writing this at the table. Dad is sitting in the rocking chair smoking his pipe. Mother has just wound up the gramophone again. It smells and sounds like home.

  May 23

  Ivy on Horseback

  Today we had callers. They came in a wagon from a nearby farm. They were a lady named Mrs. Muller, a boy named Hans, and a girl named Elizabeth. Mrs. Muller brought two saskatoon berry pies to welcome us to Canada. They were scrumptious. I don’t think we have saskatoon berries in England.

  Mother liked Mrs. Muller right away because she said her name was Gwyneth and Mother said was she Welsh and she said that her father was and then Mother said “So was my father” and then they just started talking and talking. Mr. Muller didn’t come to visit. He’s not Welsh. He’s German.

  Elizabeth is just my age. She likes to read. I told her about Lost in the Backwoods and she would like to borrow it when I’m done. She has a book called Anne of Green Gables that she is going to bring me. It sounds super. Now I don’t need to make myself go slow with Lost in the Backwoods.

  Elizabeth told me about school. There are only twenty-three students in the whole school and three of them are her and two of her brothers. She has four brothers and no sisters. Her brothers are Otto (2), Herman (6), Hans (13), and Gerhard (16). There is only one teacher for everyone. I said that would be terrible if you didn’t like the teacher. I was thinking of Toad Eyes at home. Elizabeth said that it was because last year they had a horrid man who beat the big boys and frightened the little ones. But this year they have a nice teacher named Miss Hutchinson. I hope she stays until next year when I go to school. Elizabeth said Miss Hutchinson plays baseball with them at recess. (I didn’t know what baseball was so Elizabeth told me. It sounds a bit like rounders.) This made me want to go to school right away, but Mother says there isn’t any point so late in the year.

  Elizabeth asked if I had been to Buckingham Palace to have tea with the king. I told her that ordinary people don’t get to. Then she introduced me to the horse. Her name is Ruby. She is dark brown and as shiny as a conker. Elizabeth was amazed that I don’t know how to ride. Then she just unhitched Ruby from the wagon and said did I want to get on. So I climbed onto the fence and then onto Ruby. Elizabeth said I should just hold onto her mane. She was higher and wider than I expected. Then Elizabeth led me around in a circle. It was lovely. My first time on a horse! I wanted everyone to see me. I wanted them to faint with astonishment. But nobody did and then Elizabeth hitched Ruby back up to the wagon. She is very good with reins and bridles and that. I think Elizabeth is resourceful and capable, like Catharine. I hope she would like to be my friend.

  P.S. “Saskatoon berries” sounds like something in a nursery rhyme if you say it a few times.

  May 25

  Horses in Dreams and Dust

  I dreamed about Ruby. I can just see myself riding off across the fields on her. Dad brought home the newspaper from Saturday. It is called the Regina Leader and it has a part just for kids called The Torchbearer’s Club. My favourite part was the Magic Key Line Drawings. Here’s how to draw a horse’s head from a triangle.

  I practised this over and over again in the dust in the yard. I think it looks just like Ruby. Next week is going to be a turkey from a circle. I wonder if Elizabeth likes to draw.

  Dad got some work at the blacksmith’s, but only for two days.

  May 27

  Butter Thoughts

  Mother has a chance to buy a cow from the Mullers. We went over to their farm to see the cow and find out all about cows. Mrs. Muller is very kind and a good teacher. The cow is called Daisy and she is a soft brown colour with lovely eyes. Mrs. Muller asked me did I want to try milking and I said that I couldn’t manage it and she said well of course I could and guess what? I did! It just worked, all of a sudden. I like the sound of the milk going into the pail, and the cow’s warm side when I leaned against her. Gerhard came by and said that I was an English milkmaid.

  There are kittens in the barn. Two black-and-white, two grey, and one marmalade, just like Chivers. They are very dear. I got to give them some milk. I wish we could have one.


  Then Mrs. Muller told us about butter. Here is something I didn’t know. Butter is made from cream and WORK. You take yesterday’s cream and put it in this thing like a barrel, called a churn. Then you move a handle up and down and up and down and up and down and … until you think your arms are going to break off. Whilst you churn you say to yourself:

  Come butter come

  Come butter come

  Peter standing at the gate

  Waiting for the butter cake

  Come butter come.

  Elizabeth offered to help but I wanted to make butter all by myself. It takes about an hour but it feels like a week. Then finally the sound changes. Then you drain off the buttermilk (which is the milk without the butter; shouldn’t it be called nobuttermilk?). Then you put water in the churn to wash the butter. When you take it out it looks like little lumps. You add salt with a paddle. This is fun. Churning is not fun.

  When I used to have bread and butter for my tea at home I never wondered how butter was made. Mrs. Muller says that sometimes the cow gets into the stinkweed and then the butter is smelly and not worth eating. But this butter was lovely and well worth eating. I ate a lot on scones when we had tea.

  Mr. Muller was out in the fields so we didn’t get to meet him. The Mullers’ house is quite grand. They have carpets on their floors. (Except they call them “rugs” and what we call “rugs” they call “blankets.” Confusing.) It has a verandah that goes around three sides and stairs and a banister and a front door with coloured glass. You can stand close to the door on the inside and move back and forth and make the world go red green gold, red green gold, red green gold.