Down on Grandpa's Farm
(as recalled by
grand daughter Bernadine Morris)
were the days! A visit to Grandpa and Grandma’s usually
began with a welcome
from the cookie jar. Mmmm..mmm good!
Green and white icing topped the
delicate flavour of those spicy morsels, baked with just
the right amount of Grandma’s
love. Of course we tried our hand at it too. My cousins
and I concocted some
pretty yummy looking mud pies just outside Grandma’s front porch.
Only Saskatchewan soil can make that great gumbo
batter to shape into all those
lovely cakes and pies!
It was a precise recipe, enough to satisfy any
can forget the towering ‘Christmas trees’, which graced
entrance to the farmyard?
It was the signature landmark cresting the ‘hill’
landscape, leading west to Lake Lenore. This was the home
of the Joe Gerwings also known as the ‘Christmas tree
turned into the driveway…ahead, that incredible barn sat
silently, waiting, watching. It beckoned and invited.
Only we children heard that call.
Who can forget the exhilarating leap from the loft
into the pile of straw below?
Characteristic of all children, we never considered
the danger. Someone, surely it was Grandpa, knew just the
right amount to fork down from above.
And if Grandpa put it there it must be for us and
it must be okay, right? Boy that Grandpa, he sure knew his
fun we had in those days!