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Sunday, December 7, 2008

A Depression-Era Farm Kid

I'm making bread today and got thinking about my Mum's sifter again. My flour is ground nice and fine but you still get a remnant or two (or three) of the chafe so it'd be nice to put it through a sifter. So, I called Dad.

He didn't know if the sifter was still around but said that he'd ask Elizabeth about it and, if it was found, then it was mine. Then I asked him one of those questions that leads him
off in time and back to his childhood. I love when that happens.

"Dad," I asked, "when you were a kid, did Grandma grind her own flour or was it store-bought?"

Dad was born and raised in rural Saskatchewan during the Depression; one of the youngest of ten. Every fall, once the harvest was in and there was some cash in their pockets, his Dad would hook up the team and head into town for supplies. He remembers huge flour sacks and bags full of sugar piled high in one of the bedrooms. His brothers Lyle and Roy slept in the main room (it was their job to keep the fire going). Nothing was wasted. Grandma collected the empty flour sacks, attached them together and stuffed them with straw. Once it was closed up, the kids were put to work jumping and rolling on the boys' new mattress to flatten it out. I guess it wasn't comfortable sleeping on a ball of straw.

And his stories always end the same..."we kids didn't know any better. They were good times."

He called again later. They found the sifter.

~Liz

14 comments:

Dorito said...

Desire is the seed of unhappiness.

Jenn said...

That's a nice story, and a good message to remember, I think.

Liz said...

Are you saying that this sifter is going to make me unhappy? Can't see it. Although it won't make me as happy as the torture I've put you through with your maslin pan. Mwahahaha. BTW, I picked something up for you the other day. Black. Made in the US (can't find made in Canada anymore). Cotton, mostly. Can you guess? Can you? Huh?

Liz said...

Hi Jenn - ya, I love his stories about the good ole days. It feeds my hope to get closer to the basics...

Dorito said...

Is it a dale Junior Tshirt? I don't desire Dale Jr anymore. This tshirt will only make me unhappy.

Liz said...

No, it's black. Dale Sr. The Terminator, if I recall.

Anonymous said...

Dale sr was the intimidator...rookies

Anonymous said...

I would have liked living "back than" on the homestead. Yes I've heard the stories about walking 10 miles to school - uphill both ways - but there was a real sense of family back than. People worked with each rather than against. We certainly could take a few lessons.

Liz said...

Hi Anonymous - It may be from watching too much Little House when I was a kid, but there's something to be said about the simplicity of it all. Well, as simple as survival on a homestead during the Depression could be, I guess. I'd like to recapture the best of those days too.

Dorito said...

Argh Liz. Aren't you going to stand up for me? Who called us NASCAR rookies?

Must I remind the folks that Kevin Costner, just last week at the Nascar awards ceremony, called Dale Sr. "The Terminator". It didn't go well with the good folks in the audience.

Sheesh.

Now who's the rookie, huh? Huh?

I need a drink of water.

Dorito said...

You need to read Suzanna Moodie's "Roughing it in the Bush".

People weren't so nice back then.

Liz said...

I started to read it...I have my Grandma's copy. Then I put it down and read Catherine Parr Traill's 'The Backwoods of Canada'. I like her take on life a lot better. (Hard to believe they could be sisters)

Da Bonkmonster said...

you want to get back to basics? you want simplicity? disconnect yer tv!! C'mon. I double dog dare ya.

Liz said...

Good Lord. Then I'd have to actually talk to Peddles.