WANDERINGS
Written by Ronald MizonPublished on January 2018
Some of my free time was used walking down the track down by the barn which led to the sea. Well, not really the sea but a channel or creek quite wide which connected to the strait. I would amuse myself paddling in the water and looking around for shells or sea urchins.
One day when I was there a lone man came along in his dory. He hailed me and asked if I was the English boy who was staying with the Powells. This confirmed his thoughts. He asked if I would like a ride in his dory. Shouting back to him a YES at his invitation he pulled up on the beach and I climbed aboard and made myself as comfortable as possible amongst some lobster pots and some fresh lobsters which were wriggling about. Chatting to me about me and where I came from he pushed off and carried on rowing up stream until we arrived at a small landing stage. “End of your ride he remarked. I am sorry but you will have to walk back along the shore.” It was not far to go to where I had started. I never did find out who he was but when I related to Harry my short cruise he mused “he will be getting you fishing next.”
One week end later we had some visitors to the farm from New Glasgow and Harry introduced me to his elder son, and daughter-in-law accompanied by their grandson.
The boy was about eight years old, I estimated and he and I soon became acquainted and we played around and then I introduced him to the new colt who was now getting quite friendly as long as his Mum was not too far way. He was persuaded to take tit bits from our hands, which thrilled the boy.
Now Harry always made his own butter from the milk which, of course, came from his own cows.
He had a big separator in a sort of sun lounge which was tacked onto the kitchen and he showed me how the cream was formed by pouring the milk into the top, flicking a lever and starting it up. The milk went down into the separator and, as if by magic, came out of one of the two spouts whilst the skimmed milk came out of the other spout which he fed to his pigs as a treat.
Some of the cream now went into the butter churn to go the process of being made into butter but on this special day quite a lot went into another churn (long and narrow) which had two chambers adjacent. The centre was crowned by a long sticklike handle and this was plunged up and down, up and down seemingly forever but everyone had a go, even Norma who thought it was a giggle and pumped it up and down with gusto in between her laughing. (I liked Norma, she always seemed to see the funny side to everything in her own way).
After what seemed like forever the ice cream was ready and was soon enjoyed by all with the thin cookies freshly baked by Jean.
Harry’s son was good to me. Before he left to go home he gave me some items of clothing which, when worn, gave the appearance of a city gent. These clothes I kept for special occasions.
Not long after the visit of Harry’s son we had a visit from the lady from the Department of Health who talked with Harry and Jean and then me, to tell me that I was to go to a new domicile soon where I would be joined by my sister Bessie. This was very exciting as I had only seen her once in practically a whole year, apart from the time that Harry let me take the gelding and a two runner sled up to Thorburn to deliver potatoes and collect some coal.
I was thrilled at this news but sorry to leave the Powells. I had grown up even more with Harry and he had taught me a lot, however so it was to be, I was to be ever grateful to him.
The departure date came and I loaded my belongings into the lady’s car. I was sorry to be leaving my school friends. I did tell teacher that I was moving again and on my last day she presented to me, on behalf of all the school, a lovely fountain pen and a message to keep in touch.
Goodbye Egerton, Hello Barney’s River!!!!!!!!!!