- Ac 16:31 – They replied, “Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved – you and your household.”
My childhood was wonderful. I had what is known as a well-rounded education. I learned a little about a lot instead of a lot about little. Quite often when we are talking my husband will say “how did you know that?” and I have recalled a snippet of information without remembering the root. One of my favourite games is the television “Jeopardy” game.
I lived in a big white house next to the hospital where my father worked. I was able to walk to school and to singing and piano lessons. I played with the neighbourhood kids, moving from yard to yard and house to house. We knew everyone who lived close by and never locked our doors. Grandma MacLeod had a grocery store two blocks over. From the age of twelve I worked inside the store and my brother rode a big old black bike with a front rack to deliver groceries.
We had a cottage just past Chippewa Park and learned to swim, row our boat and played on the “Jungle Gymn” built by my father and Uncle Fred. I loved racing in our cedar boat during the sports day races at the end of summer. Our cottage overlooked Lake Superior and with our gramma, we used to turn out the lights at night during a storm to watch the lightening race over the lake. And, of course, Rod and I loved to stay up late and watch Alfred Hitchcock on television with our Uncle Pop Graham, long after everyone else was in bed. I loved trekking through the woods, searching for blue berries, and sun bathing on the rocks on the beach. We kept our horse close to the park and went over every day to ride. One day, my best friend Harriet and I started painting the pagewire fence from opposite sides, and you can imagine what happened then. In those days, it took coal oil to get the paint out of our hair. Painting was done for awhile.
As a tiny tot, I loved my figure skating and dancing lessons. I took ballet, tap and the Scottish highland fling. That was a two block walk to the studio and the gardens’ rink was two blocks further. My whole world was tied up in a six by six block playground. I had t o be in bed by eight o’clock when other children could stay out and play until nine or ten. I remember sitting in my bedroom window watching the other kids play with great longing. No one in the neighbourhood every locked their doors and yet we were perfectly safe. This was my before life.
And for my after life, when I was sixteen, we moved to Vickers Heights to our new family home on the Kaministiquia. Our lives were filled with horses – riding, showing and driving our buggy and winter sleigh. My brother’s pony Midnight used to gallop down to the end of the pasture when the school bus was coming and wait for my brother Rod. He dearly loved Rod. Rod’s next horse Tommy was an American Saddlebred he trained to jump over 4 to 6 foot hurdles without using a saddle or bridle and that was really unusual. Rod also rode my Thoroughbred mare Heather Belle in the races at Murillo, and never lost. Other riders complained so he was asked to start 1/8 of the track behind the other horses, and still, Heather Belle never lost. We retired Heather Belle so that other riders could have a chance. I purchased a 17.2 hand hunter in Winnipeg and brought him home to stay. The first time I saw Darby, he ran to the barn and under a garage door that was halfway down. I always did enjoy a challenge. I went to England to get my English Riding instructor’s degree and mom was unable to find someone who could ride Darby. One afternoon my math teacher, Mr. Parker, came out to exercise Darby. He selected a Western saddle, and when mom said Darby had never been ridden Western, he insisted on keeping that saddle on. Mr. Parker didn’t know my mother very well. She was never forceful, but when she spoke, you should listed to her, because she was a very smart woman and was usually right. Well, apparently Mr. Parker mounted and went out to the riding arena. I don’t know what he did, but our horses were gentled and didn’t need powerful correction. Darby rushed up the hill like a train locomotive, the saddle rolled under his belly, and 6’6″ Mr. Parker was under the neck of the horse, clinging for dear life. You know, when I think of it, he didn’t come back again to exercise Darby. When I came home, I sold Darby to Tom Elder in Toronto who rode on the Olympic team and he phoned with compliments on my training of Darby. That was a highlight, but it was the English training that enabled me to do it. One day, our Morgan horse Mischief, was hitched to our wagon in the training ring. He was stung by bees and ended up on the top of the page wire fence with the top strand of wire just in front of his hind legs at the back of his stomach. His front feet and stomach were on one side of the fence and his hind legs and wagon on the other. What a chore to unhitch the wagon and get him out of his predicament.
I started teaching riding at age 16, and many children enjoyed their weekly lesson. And a handicapped young lady was able to ride and drive our horse in our small two-wheeled cart. What freedom for her! The other day I received a call from Pat Lasn, one of my first pupils. She is a vet living in Winnipeg now. She plans to return this summer and we have a get together to discuss the good old days. I met Joyce Soboleski the other day at Metro. She and I had a riding stable together and lived together in Crestwood apartments until I married Jan. We are going to get together too and talk about my mother. It will be good to learn someone else’s side of Mom.
At age 18 I went to live at school in England in Devon to acquire my instruction degree. I love England – it is very different from my homeland. The lanes were paved with banks of earch sprouting tall hedges on the sides. I remember a large American car driving down the Devon lane, its sides brushing the hedges and there was no room for any other automobile on the road. We had some great times there. But if you wanted to get a wheelbarrow instead of an oat sack to carry the manure out of stalls, you had to get up very early in the morning to get one. I loved being in the land of my ancestors, but on the first day, the instructor kept yelling out a name and no one responded. No one, that is, until one of the other students hissed “that’s you.” He was calling out Mac-lee-oyd. My name was MacLeod.
After my travelling joys, I went to college and became an administrative assistant. That was a concession to my parents in case my employment with horses didn’t work out. And they were right – it didn’t. I taught riding for sometime at a riding school in King, Ontario, but when the headmaster approached me and wanted to pay me with free riding lessons, I saw the writing on the wall. I returned to my life back home.
I met my husband when I was sixteen. I had a booth at the local “Tradesmen” show and he saw me there. He saw I gave riding lessons, so he engaged me to teach riding. It was clear pretty soon that it wasn’t the riding he was interested in. Still, because of the difference in our ages, we dated until I was twenty-five and he thirty-six when we were married and moved to Nolalu to set up our new lives together. We’re still there. We had three children: 1 girl and two boys. I remember sitting up on many a Christmas Eve setting up toys and doll houses and train sets for the kids so that they found them under the tree when they got up on Christmas morning.
At one point my husband obtained a contract to perform “scarifying with our large skidder. We bought a bus from neighbours and took the kids camping in the great outdoors. My husband plowed trenches with big offset disks in the “duff”. The kids and I played in the sand and creeks. I enjoyed that bus. I would heat water in the morning for dishes and then use it to wash the floor. It didn’t need a lot of effort to keep it clean. I would do the dishes in the morning and wash the floor with the same water. From September to June I worked for a home with special children. It was hard work but I have never regretted having this experience.
We have always been a couple who believes the family who works and prays together stays together. And we are all close today. Maggie married Ron, Paul married Meghan and Matthew is the proud father of his little boy Daniel. Our family is complete.
Janet's Blog 