The Reindeer Keeper

This is the only old photo I have that shows any inkling of where the creek that ran behind my grandparents' farmhouse was located. If you look beyond my older brother, the toddler in the photo, and my grandfather passing by on his tractor, a hint of  that creek can be seen beyond that overgrown field.  When my cousins and I were growing up that creek, known as Sucker Creek for a reason, turned into a marvelous place to play no matter the season. We'd build hideaways along its banks out of the brush growing wild. We'd skate on it in the wintertime, even in the evenings. One of our uncles built us rafts out of telephone poles so using steel poles as steering devices, we'd travel about that creek on one adventure after another. And in the summertime before the creek dried up, we'd go fishing although looking back, I can't ever remember seeing a single fish swimming in that murky water. But then, it wasn't the normal kind of fishing and we were just kids having...

My grandfather was a hard-working farmer. He and my grandmother provided a good life for their six daughters. They did it all. Each had their list of duties from ice harvesting on the St. Lawrence in the depth of winter to haying in the hot sticky days of June; along with planting gardens which led to weeding, picking, slicing, cooking, canning produce and filling the root cellar. Then there was the sewing, knitting, cleaning, tending to children, tending to barn animals and machinery and the list goes on. Point is, my grandparents worked hard every day with no days off. Memories of my grandfather are precious. I can see him splitting wood in the woodshed just outside a door of the kitchen in the farmhouse. I can hear the ax hit the wood; remember the splinters of the wood go flying through the air. I can see him coming in from the backfield with a load of hay driving his small red Ford tractor over the plank bridge spanning Sucker Creek, then over flat rock and on to the bar...

Many years ago there was a radio show turned TV show called "Queen For A Day." I vaguely remember it-so vaguely that I can't remember if my cousin and I watched it or listened to it or if we watched or listened at all because it would have been summer and in the summer, we were always outside playing. I can say we were aware it existed so our mothers, aunts, or grandmother must have tuned in. The idea behind the show was that women would tell their sad, personal story. Jack Bailey was the host. He would ask each of the women what they needed the most and why each wanted to be 'Queen for a Day.' The winner was chosen by an audience clapping and an applause meter reacting. Once winning the title, the queen for that day would be draped in a sable-trimmed, red velvet robe-given a jeweled crown and placed on a velvet throne. Then she'd receive red roses before an array of prizes. That's where our imaginations took off on a hot, humid afternoon. Back then neith...