Showing posts with label rural life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rural life. Show all posts

Sunday, April 21, 2024

Rural Manitoba Memoirs by Leanne Dyck (family memoir) part 3

In Part Two of Rural Manitoba Memories, you learned that the First World War was hard on my grandfather and grandmother. This Sunday...?

After WWI, many soldiers returned to Canada to farm or to teach school or to... My grandfather... And what about my grandmother? Did they remain in Manitoba...in Eriksdale?

This is the house where my dad was born. I lived in this house until I was 20.
My grandfather built some if not all of this house.

Rural Manitoba Memories


Aunty Kay: Daddy returned in the spring of 1919.

Dad: I was born in Eriksdale in 1920 and as there was no hospital here I decided the easiest and simplest course was for me to be born at home, which I was—home being the house where we still live at the junction of highway 6 and 68.

Aunty Kay: In 1922, I arrived to complete the family.

Grandma: Home from the war, Jim decided to open a Tea Shop. We reasoned the farmers’ horses need a rest—the farmer also needs a spot of refreshment, like a cup of tea and buns—so in 1920, opened the shop. Jim couldn’t do it alone, so we added rooms on the back of the shop and moved in. Jimmie was 2 years old, Kay six months.

Dad: Eriksdale was an exciting, interesting place for a boy to grow up.

We lived downtown, where all the action was; farmers driving their horses to do their shopping and other business. Passenger trains and freight trains passed through town. Almost every night we would have a rock train thunder down the track.

We had four general stores, a butcher shop, two hotels, one of which was three stories high, there were a couple of blacksmith shops, a grain elevator, a creamery, and two garages.

Ward’s Garage was nearby. It was a favourite hang-out of mine until I began using colourful language that I’d picked up there. My mother was not impressed; decided if I was able to learn those words I could learn better things. So at the age of five, I was off to school.

My teachers were all dedicated people who worked very hard to give me an education.

Equipment and teaching aids were not readily available at the time so improvisation and inspiration were the tools they used.

Grandma: We were ten years in the restaurant business, gradually taking in a stock of groceries. As cars came in, the tea shop business declined and at last was dropped.


OTHER PEOPLE'S MEMORIES

Leanne (Willetts) Dyck


One of my summer jobs during High School was as a tour guide at the Eriksdale Museum. I enjoyed losing myself in other people's memories.

Maybe locals came in but I don't remember them. Tourists were the ones who stood out. They wanted to learn about us and the museum was their introduction. Most traveled from other parts of Manitoba or Canada or even from the United States. A man came from England. He impressed me by using four place names in his address. And I remember a woman. I'll always remember her.

I greeted her with a smile. "Hello, I'm Leanne Willetts."

And she said, "Willetts? Your grandfather, Mr. J.H. Willetts, owned a Red and White store. He sold groceries, dry goods, and cattle feed.


"The depression was hard on farmers like my dad. He needed feed for our cows, but he didn't have any money. Those cows were the only things keeping the wolf from our door. So, he swallowed his pride and asked your grandfather to loan him the feed.

"Mr. Willetts was a businessman. He needed to make money--his family needed to eat. But you know what your grandfather did?" Her eyes were wet with tears as she told me, "He gave my dad the feed--gave it to him."

Yes, I'll always remember her.

Aunty Kay: When they closed the lunch room [tea shop], we moved back to the house on the corner of what is now Highway 6 and 68.

Uncle Jim: Jim and I began our friendship in our early teens. Jim spent almost as much time at our house as he did at home. To begin with, everyone called him Jimmie the Kid, but that was soon shortened to just Kid.

We played hardball on the senior team, only because they needed all the bodies they could get. Jim played right field for a time. Jim also played goal for our hockey team.

If the other team got the first goal Jim would grit his teeth and they had to work hard to get any more! He played goal for Lundar too when our team thought they had a better goalie. He showed us a thing or two then!

Later on when I started driving truck, I would go and pick up Jim to go with me. Sometimes at night I would go and tap on his window to wake him up—NOT on his sister’s window! [Uncle Jim married Aunty Kay in the spring of 1946—and they lived happily ever after.] I was always afraid that their super-hound Snip would take a piece out of me! One year Jim drove for Pop, we went to all the country dances we could afford and got so we could do the Shottishe and all that.

Dad: All good things come to an end and school ended.

Leanne: My dad was sixteen when he attained the highest level of education available in Eriksdale, at the time—grade eleven. However, he continued to self-educate throughout his life. He especially enjoyed reading both religious and scientific books.


I'm blessed to come from a family of writers. People who wrote for fun and to build community. Their writing built this memoir.


 The memories continue...

Read the next installment of 

Rural Manitoba Memories



More about Eriksdale...

Sunday, April 7, 2024

Rural Manitoba Memories by Leanne Dyck (family memoir) part 1

 Writing purchases for the writer a kind of immortality. 

My dad, my aunt and my paternal grandparents all wrote--for fun and to build community. I've collected their writing for many years. This memoir was pieced together from that collection (with additional words, here and there, from other contributors) as a loving tribute to my family. 

Aunty Kay and Grandma Willetts


Rural Manitoba Memories

Aunty Kay: They say the greatest things parents can give children are roots and wings. Leanne’s roots are right here in a little town in the Interlake where she has grown up surrounded by a loving and caring family.

Leanne: My paternal grandfather’s hand-written memoir begins…

Grandpa: I, J. H. Willetts was born on May 7, 1886, in a small house in Allastone Mene near Lydney, Gloucestershire.

Leanne: Grandpa was the fourth son in a family of ten—eight siblings, two sisters, and six brothers. In 1889, his youngest brother Albert died of diphtheria. Albert was four and a half. Three years later, in 1901, Joseph, an older brother by three years, died in a mine accident. Joseph was eighteen. Life was tough in Allastone Mene. It’s not surprising that Grandpa would want to try a new somewhere else.

One fine May day in 1906, after promising to visit his mother, Grandpa packed his bags—or, no doubt, bag. He travelled to Liverpool, boarded the good ship Lake Manitoba and set sail for Montreal. Grandpa was twenty years old.

Aunty Kay: Daddy came to Selkirk, Manitoba as his brother Charles had a contracting business there. He worked for a few months on construction for the Canadian Pacific Railway near Kenora. In the spring of 1907, he decided to take up a homestead in the Manitoba Interlake.

Lucy Lindell, local historian: Eriksdale’s first white settler was probably Jonas Eric Erikson, who applied for his homestead on March 20, 1906, though presumably, he had been living there as a squatter prior to that date. It is known that Manuel Erikson, Jonas’ son, had a small log shack near the southern most corner of the north west quarter of the section, adjacent to his father’s quarter on which is now, the village proper.

Leanne: Eriksdale was built on the ancestral home of the Cree. Manitoba is the birthplace of the Metis nation. All through grade school, I had Cree and Metis friends and classmates. As reported in the 2016 census, Metis was the third largest ethnic group. The largest ethnic group was English, followed by Scottish.

The Rural Municipality of Eriksdale, Manitoba was formed in 1918.


The memories continue...

Read the next installment of 

Rural Manitoba Memories



Did You Know...

Kat Brown, The essential books to read about neurodiversity, January 31, 2023

Sunday, September 25, 2016

Book review: Still Life by Louise Penny

Louise Penny is one of my favourite mystery authors and Still Life is her first published book in her award-winning Armand Gamache series of murder mysteries. 

 Photo by Leanne 
 creative assistance provided by my friend David

I was excited to find this copy in my favourite consignment store. 

Publisher:  First published in paperback in 2006 by Headline Publishing Group

Book blurb:  
As the early morning mist clears on Thanksgiving Sunday, the homes of Three Pines come to life -- all except one...
To locals, the village is a safe haven. So they are bewildered when a well-loved member of the community is found dead in the maple woods. Surely it was an accident -- a hunter's arrow gone astray. Who could want Jane Neal dead?
In a long and distinguished career with the Surete du Quebec, Chief Inspector Armand Gamache has learned to look for snakes in Eden. Gamache knows something dark is lurking behind the white picket fences, and if he watches closely enough, Three Pines will being to give up its secrets...

What did Ms. Penny have to learn and what came naturally to her?



What did Ms. Penny have to learn?


Craft

Dialogue tags...
For example, I found identifying the speaker in group difficult. This difficulty may be overcome by using more dialogue tags or by associating the speaker with an action. 

I.e. Simon reached for the steaming cup of coffee. "Boy, is it cold outside." 

Transition...
And transitions could be more clearly defined. One minute the characters are in a shop or a restaurant and the next the characters are in a car. 

What do I like about Ms. Penny's writing?


One of the reasons Louise Penny is one of my favourite mystery authors is that we share the same passion for rural life.
The only reason doors were locked was to prevent neighbors from dropping off baskets of zucchini at harvest time. (p. 5)
Life was far from harried here. But neither was it still. (p. 402)
Thought provoking...
"[F]our things lead to wisdom... I don't know. I need help. I'm sorry." (p. 106)
"I know at the end of a day I'll look at my work and think it's great, then next morning look at it and think it's crap. The work didn't change, but I did." (p. 353 - 354) 
After her murder Jane's friends find her art. This has convinced me that before I die I will set fire to all my unpublished work--I want to spare my loved ones that unpleasant discovery.

Turn of phrase...
She threw great logs of 'I'm right, you're an unfeeling bastard' on to the fire and felt secure and comforted. (p. 214)
Ruth's normally flinty voice was now as hard as the Canadian shield. (p. 220 - 221)






Photo by Leanne Dyck

Sharing my author journey...

September was a productive month I...