These stories were all gleaned from conversations with Carrie Smith and her brother Les around 1999. Many were prompted by remarks made by Murray Creightion in emails from Australia around the same time. Often one idea would lead immediately to a fresh thought. Unfortunately there are probably many more stories undiscovered.
Don’t Be Left-handed
Pa had a real problem with his grandson, David, being left-handed. He would frequently insist that things like scissors or utensils be placed in the boy's right hand. Clutching a fist of the little guy's hair, he'd say, "You little Indian, use your other hand!"
 |
| ABOVE: At the beginning, cedar blocks served as the foundation for the farmhouse. (Murray & Buster circa 1926) This spot was a popular hiding place for hide and seekers. |
Somewhere in this telling, the name Gary got thrown in. Apparently this more earthy, Gary Smith still has an interest in guns whereas non of the immediate Smith boys do. Les Smith had this old, hand-me-down shotgun that no longer fires but is something of a Smith heirloom because it was used to kill fowl to feed the passengers on the CPR. Les had heard the story that one enterprising, Eastern Smith had a contract to supply game to the railroad. (this was Richard Smith and the story was true) Les phoned young Gary who was very pleased to receive said shotgun. According to Murray's recollection, said shotgun was probably on the gun rack in the family kitchen. It may also have been the one involved in the following incident related by my mother.
Pa was under the weather a little and there were pigeons feeding in his fields. "Take the shotgun out a give them a blast," he told his youngest daughter. Carrie had never fired a gun before but boldly carried the brute of a thing outdoors. She laid the barrel across a plank in the Creighton/Smith fence and pulled the trigger on both barrels. The kick scared the hell out of her and knocked her on her backside, but she went back in smiling when she discovered she had killed two pigeons.
Murray’s Ol’ 22 Calibre
(Murray 1999) I still have an old 22-calibre, single shot that once hung on the original, farm gun rack. It’s the first gun I fired over 70 years ago, and the same with Les, only longer ago. It was used to shoot at pigeons in tall cedar trees just across the front creek from the farmhouse, kill rats in the chicken yard at dusk, and shoot robins in cherry trees. I don't think I have fired it since we left Canada but it still seems to function ok. I cant recall how I got it in the first instance; I don't think Les wanted it so he left it with me.
Buster Disappears
"Buster was a great hunting dog. He disappeared one time. We were along the top of a rise looking down into a boggy area. We sent Buster down to circle the bog and flush any deer around to meet us. He took off. We heard him thrashing through the bush a little, then a short squeal like he had hurt himself or something- then nothing. We went in to check and nothing. Never saw Buster again."
Anti, Anti Eyeover
Anti, Anti Eyeover was a favourite game among the kids.
"It was a good house because you could throw the ball right over it." Carrie said. "Usually we played with a tennis ball."
"What happened after you caught it?"
"You run around the house and tag the other guy."
"Then what?"
"That's it! It's a kid's game. No purpose. Just fun!"
NOTE: On Carrie’s 85 birthday, Murray wrote in an email “For a birthday present, I’m going to forgive you. You will recall (I think it was 1929) we were playing Anti Anti Eyeover at the farm and you were sneaking around the corner as usual so you knew I had caught the ball, and POUNCED. Your spindly bracelet caught on my front tooth (permanent) as you yanked at the ball. BINGO! By some miracle I grew a third tooth, so this finally had a happy ending.”
Hide and Seek
"Where did you hide? Did you have some favourite places?" David asked this of Carrie and Les at a family lunch. They were both in their 80s but their replies were instantaneous.
"In the garages. In the toilets out back. Around the stump with the clothesline. Down in the cellar. Under the water tank.”
I was immediately intrigued by the mention of the ‘stump’. They were referring to a giant willow stump that dominates the left of the driveway as you approach the house. I discovered it has been chopped down twice but still persists in sending up vigorous new shoots. In 1999 it still looked like a good place to hide!
Charcoal Eater
The story goes that the young Murray was constantly getting into the charcoal. He would wander the property looking for burnt out stumps not yet removed and pick off pieces of the black stuff for culinary sampling. The doctor theorized that the boy's body craved some important element found in the charcoal. "Yummy!"
No comments:
Post a Comment