A Prairie as Wide as the Sea Page 4

  I wonder if Auntie Millie would like to read Lost in the Backwoods. It says, “To be up and doing is the maxim of a Canadian; and it is this that nerves his arm to do and bear.” Isn’t that good? It makes me feel all holy, like hymns or “God Save the King.”

  In Lost in the Backwoods Catharine and the boys have built themselves sleds and are whizzing down hills. I CAN’T WAIT for winter and snow. There’s a good hill out by the coulee.

  Mother and Dad had words before tea. Mother said, “Now that we have Jack to take care of we absolutely need to buy a copper to boil the nappies.” (We didn’t bring our copper from home because it was too big and heavy.) Then Dad said that we couldn’t afford to buy a copper because we needed to save for shoes and that. (Then I remembered the secret under my mattress. But I cast the thought from my mind.) Then Mother got cross. But it all turned out to be for nothing because Elizabeth’s mother came over and told Mother that they don’t boil nappies in Canada. They just peg them out and the prairie sun bleaches them. Too sleepy to write more.

  June 23

  Flying Jack

  I’m in trouble again. I took Baby Jack over to Elizabeth’s house and we were playing with him and Otto. Peepo and that. (In Canada they call it peekaboo). Then we got this idea to put them in a flour sack and give them swings. It worked fine with Otto. And at first it was fine with Baby Jack. He loved it. He made this hiccup noise he makes when he’s really happy. But then the bottom of the flour sack ripped open and Jack went flying through the air, headfirst into the Mullers’ chiffonier. He got a nosebleed and quite a lot of blood got onto the doilies on the chiffonier. And of course he cried a lot. I felt awful.

  At least we’re both in trouble. It’s not quite so bad being in trouble with a friend. And Mrs. Muller is pretty nice. Truth to tell, it was my idea but Elizabeth took half the blame.

  Mrs. Muller put Mercurochrome on Jack’s wounds. I thought perhaps we could bind them with cooling leaves of tacmahac, like Catharine does in Lost in the Backwoods, but Mrs. Muller thought Mercurochrome would be better. And she told me that if the blood doesn’t come out of the doilies she’ll teach me to tat and I can make new ones.

  At least Jack doesn’t blame me. He sat on my lap all evening and held onto my ear.

  June 25

  Sir Lancelot

  William has rescued me. He is like a knight in shining armour. I was so worried about the cotton/thread that I finally told William. He told Mrs. Burgess and she just laughed and said that I should bring back the cloth (I mean the cotton; I’m going to practise saying everything Canadian so I don’t get in trouble again) and that she wouldn’t charge us and that Mother never need know. I am so relieved that I feel like a bouncing ball. When we are deep-sea diving and William is in the sucking clutches of an octopus I will save him, even though the sharks are coming right at me with teeth bared. I promise.

  June 27

  Bad Words

  Today we went to church. (Well, not Dad. He’s not much for church). The vicar’s name is Mr. Quigley, but he is called a minister. He’s not old. Church is a bit plainer than at home but the words are the same.

  The Mullers were there. And that toffee-nose girl and her parents.

  After church I was standing outside with Elizabeth and Toffee-Nose. Harry and Gladys started racing around people’s legs, singing hymns in their private language, so I said, “Stop that, you silly asses.” All the grown-ups turned around and looked at me. Then Toffee-Nose made her mouth into a drawstring and said that I shouldn’t use bad language, especially not on the sabbath. Then she walked away.

  That is so unfair. At home “ass” isn’t such a bad word. I mean it is a little bad, but not really bad. Mother says it all the time when Dad does something like singing pub songs. I even heard the VICAR say it at home.

  How are you supposed to know these things? That book for new immigrants that tells you all about farming and that – it should have a section on words, bad and otherwise.

  July 1

  July the first was a day of firsts for Ivy Doris Weatherall but I am too tired to write about it so I will tomorrow.

  July 2

  Best Day in Canada

  I couldn’t write about yesterday yesterday because yesterday had too much in it. It was Dominion Day, a holiday for the Dominion of Canada. It was the day of the Milorie community picnic. Dad woke me up by standing at the door singing “The Maple Leaf Forever.” I got teary. I always get teary when I hear songs like that. It’s like the sound goes in my ear and then behind my eyes, pushing the tears out. William says I’m a wet silly. I don’t care. Dad was singing “The thistle, shamrock, rose entwine, The Maple Leaf forever,” when Mother walked by and said, “And what about the leek?” She means the Irish get the shamrock, the Scots get the thistle, and the English get the rose, but where’s the Welsh leek. Mother always stands up for the Welsh. Dad grabbed her round the waist, even though she was holding Baby Jack. Then he did moony-eyes and sang, “The leek and rose by love entwined, the Weatheralls forever,” which made Mother laugh though she pretended not to.

  Everyone was in a jolly mood because of the picnic. We did the milking and collected the eggs. Then I helped Mother make ginger cookies and hard-boiled eggs and then we all walked over to the Muller farm. Everyone was there. They came out from town in wagons and buggies and on horseback and some in cars. (They parked their cars near the barn. This is an important thing to know because of what comes later in this story. I am building suspense.) The men set up tables under the poplar trees and then the food started to appear. Everybody shared. There were raisin buns in a ring, and cinnamon buns (Harry and I like to unwind cinnamon buns as we eat them, which saves the best sugar bit for last; Elizabeth and William like to take bites with every part at once; Gladys just likes to eat hers as fast as possible any which way), doughnuts, ginger cookies, molasses cookies and railroad cake. Something I had never had before was raw cabbage with a sauce on it. I asked Elizabeth what the sauce was and she said, sour cream, mustard and sugar, which I thought sounded horrid. Sour cream! But I tried some and it was delicious. Sour cream in Canada doesn’t mean the same thing as sour cream at home. There was cold chicken and cold sliced ham and something called vinegar pie which also sounds horrid but isn’t. Also butter tarts which sound lovely and are. The biggest surprise was a box of oranges and bananas. At home we only get oranges at Christmas. When I put a piece of orange in my mouth I felt really peculiar. I felt like I should be hearing “Hark the Herald” and holding cold hands up to the fire. When the bananas were handed around I paid close attention to Elizabeth because I’ve never had a banana and it is hard to know how to get into a banana if you’ve never had one. A very tidy fruit but I didn’t think much of the taste. A bit like glue. And there was lemonade too, in a big washtub with a block of ice.

  We ate until we were stuffed. Then the grown-ups had a rest or played horseshoes. Then there were games. I entered the running race for girls and two races that I had never heard of before. In the sack race you hop along in a potato sack. In the three-legged race you tie one of your legs to one of your partner’s legs with a piece of rag and then you run like one person with three legs. I was a partner with Elizabeth. We tried to sing “Pop Goes the Weasel” so that we would have a rhythm. It didn’t work. We got tangled up and fell over and then we couldn’t stand up because we were laughing so hard.

  The Weatherall family did not triumph in the races. We would have gone home without a single ribbon if it were not for Mother. She won the ladies’ nail-driving contest. I think the ladies’ nail-driving contest is supposed to be a sort of funny thing. There is a lot of chivvying that goes on before. Two long boards are laid along the ground, one on top of the other. The women kneel in a long line along the edge of the board. They each have a hammer and five nails. Somebody says “Mark, Set, Go!” and they all start nailing. There is a lot of teasing and some ladies just give little ladylike taps, but Mother went at it very seriously. I could tell she wanted to win.
And she did. Wham, wham, wham. First prize. Then all the men started saying would she come and build them a henhouse and things like that but Mother just pinned on her ribbon and smiled.

  Then the men made ice cream in a big freezer. They each took a turn cranking. The ice cream would have been the best thing of the day except for something that came later. (I am building suspense again). Then there was a baseball game. Abel Butt, the boy with the pig in the parade, ran all around the bases in one go. That’s called a “home run.” He did a cartwheel at the end. (That’s not part of baseball.) William joined in but even though he is a good cricket batsman he “struck out.” It made him a bit sad.

  For supper we ate more of everything.

  When it was almost finished Mrs. Muller was pouring a last cup of coffee from the big coffee kettle and she said, “What’s this?” and then she pulled this soggy thing out of the kettle. She wrung it out and it turned out to be a grey sock. Then everyone came over to see and Mr. Quigley said it looked like his sock and Mrs. Quigley said that it was, that she had knitted it and that it had been missing from the line last wash day. Then everyone said, how could it have gotten into the coffee? Then Mr. Quigley said at least it was clean when it went in! Then he started to sing “Who put the overalls in Mrs. Murphy’s Chowder?” and Dad joined in. What the adults didn’t notice was that Hans Muller and another big boy were out behind the wagons rolling on the ground laughing.

  Then we went to the Mullers’ barn for a dance. The music was two fiddles and an accordion and the dances were square dances. I don’t know how to dance but I liked leaning on the horse box and listening to the music and feeling the floor shivering. I liked seeing the dust floating up and hearing Jimmy Snook telling the dancers what to do. “Places all, hit the lumber with your leather.” “Bow to your corner.” “Grand chain.” “Circle stags and Do-si-do.” I noticed that sometimes he would say “Promenade your partner home,” then the next time he would say, “Take your gal to you know where.” Or put somebody’s name into it. It was like on-the-spot poetry. I would like to know how to dance Canadian dancing.

  This next part is extra private. All snoopers keep out.

  July 3

  Going for a Spin

  I got too tired to write this yesterday and I was running out of ink anyway. Back to Dominion Day.

  It was hot in the barn and the twins and Baby Jack went to sleep almost right away, lying on a pile of straw. I was nearly asleep too when William came over and whispered that I should come with him. We went outside, around the corner of the barn and there was Hans sitting in the Mullers’ Model T. “Want to go for a spin?” he said. Hans is only thirteen years old. I asked him if he was allowed to drive and he just gave me a big wink. I knew it was naughty but I wanted to go SO MUCH so I said yes. Besides I figured that if we got into trouble William would get into bigger trouble than me. So I got in and Hans and William started saying things like spark lever and throttle lever and how you could break your wrist if the car backfired whilst you were cranking. Then Hans cranked and the motor started and both boys jumped in and we were off. My first ride in a private car. It was lovely lovely lovely. I could hardly breathe for being so happy. When Hans really “opened up” (that’s car talk for going fast) we must have been going thirty miles an hour. It felt as fast as the train except instead of being cooped up and tied to the track you can look up to the sky or down to the weeds along the side of the road which are WHIZZING by. If you put your cupped hand out you can scoop up air like water. It was like flying, but bumpier. Every bump made us whoop. We went down the road a piece and then back. I wanted to go all the way to Milorie, to Regina, to the North Pole! Most of all I would love to drive a car myself. When we got back nobody noticed except some men who were around the back of the barn passing around a bottle and they didn’t seem very interested.

  So that was the first of July and the first of banana eating and the first of running three-legged and the first of going to a square dance and the first of riding in a car.

  July 5

  The Slew

  This morning the twins took all the lids off the stove and hid them. Then they disappeared. Mother came in from the garden to make a cup of tea and there was the stove, full of holes.

  She did finally find twins and lids but she said I had to mind them for the afternoon whilst Baby Jack was napping. I took them down to the slew. The slew is like a pond, where all the kids swim. We all had a splash round. We don’t know how to swim because we were only at the seaside once, with Auntie Lou, and it rained the whole time. Not hot hot hot like here. I would rather mind the twins than weed in the garden, or, worse, pick off potato bugs.

  July 9

  Ivy Weatherall: Horsewoman

  I rode Ruby again. Elizabeth came over and we had a lesson in the yard. This time I held the reins myself. Who do I love best? Daisy, Ruby or Chivers?

  July 15

  Zowie

  We get to go to the fair in the Mullers’ car! Flying all the way to Stanton. Eight miles! Mr. and Mrs. Muller are going with the wagon but Gerhard is going to drive the Model T and take me and Elizabeth. Hurray! Hurray! O frabjous day. How can I stand to wait a whole week and one day? (Reminder to myself: Remember to pretend that this is my first ride in a car.)

  July 16

  Toad Tale

  Gerhard Muller is a toad. A toad of toads. This morning I was under Elizabeth’s front porch with Elizabeth. We didn’t go down there to eavesdrop. We were there before Toad-Gerhard and Worm-Emily Piggott even came onto the porch. Emily was supposedly at the Mullers’ to help Mrs. Muller make pies. But Elizabeth says she’s sweet on Gerhard and he’s sweet on her and that’s why she comes over so often. Toad-Gerhard and Worm-Emily started talking about the fair and the first thing we hear is Gerhard inviting Emily to join him in the Model T. Emily said that would be “looooovely.” (How come Gerhard doesn’t notice how silly Emily sounds? I think being sweet on somebody is like some sort of influenza that causes a person to be stupid.) Then Emily said how much more “looooovely” it would be if they would travel to the fair alone, just the two of them. So Gerhard hemmed and hawed and then he said that he would think of a way to get rid of the nuisances. NUISANCES! That’s the very word he used. Elizabeth and I were so mad that we could hardly keep quiet. But we did. Which was good. Because now we can plan our secret revenge.

  July 17

  A Brilliant Plan

  I’ve got it. I got the idea from Dhicken. Dhicken is the chicken who won’t lay her eggs in the henhouse. She lays them all over the yard and they are usually cracked and broken. This morning when I was hunting for those eggs I got my idea. I told Elizabeth. She says I am brilliant. And tomorrow is Sunday and that means Gerhard will be going over to the Piggott place to see Emily.

  Perfect.

  July 18

  In the Doghouse

  Elizabeth and I are in the doghouse. Who would have thought that Gerhard was not only a toad but a snitch? My punishment is that I have to clean the henhouse for a whole week by myself. Elizabeth’s punishment is that she has to weed the whole garden. Our punishment together is that we don’t get to go to the fair in the Model T, but only in the wagon like everybody else. (How do mothers think of these punishments? Do they have a secret book somewhere?) But here’s a secret, dear diary: I would do it again in a minute.

  This afternoon after church and dinner Elizabeth and I hung around Gerhard whilst he groomed Ruby and cleaned all the harness and polished his boots. We were nice as pie but all the time we were thinking, “nuisance, nuisance, nuisance.” Then when he went off to change his clothes and slick back his hair and all that, we disappeared. We went out to a field along the road to the Piggott place. What did we have with us? My lunch pail full of cracked eggs.

  When Gerhard rode by he got it. A full egg attack. The best one was right on Gerhard’s hat. One egg covers a lot when it is broken. We spent the afternoon down by the coulee and then we got hungry so we went back to the farm, wondering if we
would have to face the music. We did. I drew a veil.

  One funny thing: Mrs. Muller told everyone that we wouldn’t be mentioning this to Mr. Muller. They have a lot of secrets in that family.

  Just one more thing: Mother asked me why I’m always getting into trouble with Elizabeth. Then she said why don’t I make friends with a nice girl like Nyla Muir. Which proves to me that grown-ups don’t know a thing about what’s going on. They ain’t got the sense they was born with. (That’s not bad grammar. It is from a story.)

  July 21

  A Plan

  Elizabeth and I have decided to enter Junior Jams and Jellies at the fair. Elizabeth says she has a secret weapon. Toffee-Nose won Junior Jams and Jellies last year (and Junior Pies Two Crusts) but this year Elizabeth says she better watch out.

  July 22

  The Secret Weapon

  Today we made our junior jelly. It is crabapple. It was fun to make except for the wasps who got into the kitchen and tormented us. My favourite part was when the jelly starts to drip. You turn one chair over on another (seat to seat) and you tie a hot wet tea towel to the legs of the chair so that it makes a sort of bag. Then you put a bowl under the bag. Then you pour the crabapple pulp into it and wait. It is SO tempting to squeeze the bag and make it go faster but you absolutely mustn’t or the jelly will go cloudy. The secret weapon is beet juice. Elizabeth boiled some beets and then she took the bright red beet water and put some into the crabapple pulp. It was her own invention, to make the jelly really rosy.