Cousin Billy


Saturdays during my childhood were spent playing with our cousins.  Or fishing.

Billy was the oldest by a year. Like his Dad, he was built to run and had a spiritual connection with nature. With ease, Billy filled his match box with grasshoppers (for fish bait) while we stumbled around with the creatures making a mockery of us.

We’d grab our fishing poles and race our bikes to the Kootenay River.  Billy would bound ahead from rock to rock. With grace.  Like an Aboriginal Tracker.  Quiet. Surefooted. No energy wasted.

The rest of us were in pursuit.  Jimmy’s arms and legs flying. Baby fat rhythmically swinging up and down with each stride.  Sweating profusely. Screaming at us to “wait up.” 

[Read more…]

Mid-Summer Afternoons…

There was no air conditioning, central, window or otherwise.  There were no large, five-speed oscillating fans.  The one 12-inch fan in the house, hummed like a diesel and was in the kitchen where it kept Mom cool while she was preparing our meal.  Dinner included a cool cucumber soup, vareneki and peach pie – – cucumbers individually pulled off the vines in the garden and plump, ripe peaches picked from our fruit trees. The oven, running all afternoon, added to the oppressive heat in the house.

We had one TV, with one channel, the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation.  Hockey Night in Canada (Saturday Nights) was one of the few programs worthy of watching.  And, in any event, watching TV during the day was taboo.  We had one radio station, and it was country.  (So no radio.)  There was no internet.  No Playstation. No iPhones, iTunes, iPods, iPads, iAnthing.  No desktops or laptops.  No Barnes & Noble, Borders, Waldenbooks or Amazon.  No Kindles, Nooks or Readers.  The Public Library was miles away and I had never set my foot in it.  We had a camera but that was off limits and of little interest. [Read more…]

%d bloggers like this: