I must be a homing pigeon. Whenever I am away it takes no time at all for me to long for home. As a child I suffered from homesickness even though I rarely was away for long.
When we were kids, mom and dad made home a safe place, warm and cheerful. We only realized later how much labour was involved but our house echoed with laughter. We often had family games night. Favourites were Pit, crokinole, Rook, Scrabble or Aggravation. Crokinole was dad’s specialty, Aggravation grandpa’s. We learned to defend ourselves but we could rarely win against the pros.
Later we learned the card game Dutch Blitz, with Mennonite playing cards. That sounds like an oxymoron to me. All the elders in my background did not believe in the use of playing cards. I don’t know who decided to make a version that made it OK to play.
All the face cards were illustrated with male and female figures clad in traditional old-fashioned garb. The decks are in four sets: a wooden bucket, a hand pump for a well, a plow and a buggy. When we played as siblings, Larry always wanted the buggy deck. He usually won so sometimes he had to yield and let someone else have a turn with the buggy. Share and share alike? He usually won anyway.
As youngsters we girls created a version of our own games. Carol and I were quite good at playing jacks. We also drew our hopscotch pattern in the dirt of the garage floor, lacking a concrete sidewalk. These days when I see the spring arrival of the brightly-coloured hopscotch drawings and the discarded pieces of chalk I am so tempted to give it a whirl.
Carol also enjoyed designing floor plans for our dolls. Sometimes we constructed furniture out of cereal boxes. The cardboard was easy to work with even though it wasn’t sturdy enough. We also used the Eaton’s catalogue to create paper dolls. There were so many outfits to choose from, so many selections.
All of that leads up to the fact that home was where we wanted to be. We did enjoy day trips together: long country drives, visits to friends and neighbours. We occasionally visited an aunt and her family in Ogden. To me at least, that was quite an exciting trip. The city was a rare destination for us. I was amazed that dad knew exactly where he was going.
We did make a yearly jaunt to the zoo. In fact we remember when there was a small carousel and train on the grounds for our enjoyment. I remember a picnic lunch on the lawn, while dad had a nap in the shade.
A few times we made the trip to Banff. It was too expensive with our large family to enjoy the offered attractions. We were more prone to sightseeing; just as interesting.
Again we had a picnic lunch, this time in a campsite on a hillside. I recall my younger brother running and exploring, then tripping and tumbling down the trail. Dad caught him as he rolled past. He was probably bruised but no real harm done.
I don’t think he enjoyed childhood as much as I did. With his two older brothers gone, he was left with three older sisters and his constant companion, Ruff the dog. He often rode his bike over to grandma’s to fill her woodbox or other chores, for a handful of peppermints or a cookie.
When grandma and grandpa moved to Didsbury and the Nylund family moved in, his options expanded. The Nylund boys became frequent visitors at the house.
My friends loved to come for a rare overnight stay. They were mostly town people and the novelty of our lifestyle seemed to interest them. I think the warmth and acceptance flowed over them as soon as they opened the door.
I always felt that home was like a warm, soft blanket. Maybe they felt that way too.
- Hoey is a longtime Gazette columnist
