Freedom to Play: We Made Our Own Fun

IT WAS A MAGICAL TIME

the farm taught me to play cribbage. There were picnics, walks to the woods, wild berry picking, trips on the London and Port Stanley railway, riding the incline railway at Port Stanley, and frolicking on the beach. On one visit I managed to get the autograph of Ray Anthony, the band leader. Many of the adults’ pleasant pastimes eventually became mine. For example, no one ever left our community without knowing how to play euchre. I particularly liked anything social—even the visits from “the Raleigh man,” a smiley friendly gentleman who spoke with such a smooth voice as he extolled the virtues of pure vanilla. I liked harvest time when our kitchen would be filled with the aroma of fresh homemade pies, hungry men, stories, and laughter. Spring brought visits from Steve Newhouse and his family, Indians who lived on the Munsey Indian Reservation who helped my father harvest his one and one-half acres of strawberries each year. Then there was that fine line between work and play. On the farm I was expected to work hard, but there were those jobs I chose to do which seemed to be fun for me—washing the car, weeding flower beds, polishing silver, collecting sap from maple trees for maple syrup making, and learning to paint woodwork with a real paint brush. I find it interesting that there is such a strong link between the pleasurable activities of my childhood and the ones I enjoy as an adult. Is it all that surprising that I am a calligrapher, a quilter , a knitter, a scrapbooker, and a gardener, that my husband and I have theatre and symphony subscriptions, and that we enjoy card games, and that I still like writing letters? IT WAS A MAGICAL TIME Audrey Kendall recalls her childhood on a Saskatchewan farm as a happy busy time. For the first thirteen years of my life I lived on a farm near McNutt in eastern Saskatchewan. I don’t recall feeling deprived at the lack of siblings. Every day was packed with activities that Creating Their Own Equipment 157 I considered fun. In the winter after school, my dog, Rover, and I would haul snow and wood to the house. I would grind grain and make mash for my ducks and pet my favorite, Sir Francis. I would gather the eggs and talk to my special hens. Occasionally, my father would tow me on my skis behind the horse-drawn sleigh. At school we would play fox and goose, make snow forts, and have snowball fights. During bad weather we would play indoors—tag, board games, blackboard games, and cards. At home after supper my father and I would play cards or board games or put together jigsaw puzzles. My favorite games were Rummy, Parcheesi, Mill, and Crokinole played on our homemade board. Our dogs would be curled up on the couch and I would join them while reading a book from the school library. On many evenings my mother taught me needlecrafts and baking. Springtime would bring the flooded creeks and sloughs. I would wade in the water, build dams, and chase after the wild ducks who would use the broken-wing technique to lure me away from their nests. I would frequently go to the highest point on our farm—Crocus Hill—to see the wild flowers, at first white and purple crocuses and later cowslips, shooting stars, lady slippers, bluebells , and wild roses. At school, springtime meant playing hopscotch , skipping rope, softball, and track and field. One year we had a teacher who taught us how to play cricket. That was a lot of fun. Games like “Kick-the-Can,” “Stealing the Wickets,” “Red Rover, Come Over,” “Prisoner’s Base,” “Tag,” “Ball-on-the-Roof,” Anti-i-over,” and “Hide-and-Seek” kept us well entertained at school recesses and lunch hours. At home there would be chores: feeding the young chicks, goslings, ducklings, baby turkeys, calves, lambs, and occasionally, a foal. My dogs and I would fetch the cows for milking and haul wood and water to the house. I would help my mother plant and later weed the garden. Although these tasks were really work, I thought of them as entertainment. Only housework was considered work. Summer holidays meant gathering the vegetables from the garden and helping my mother can them. Our farm had wild strawberries, raspberries, pincherries, chokecherries, gooseberries , saskatoons, hazelnuts, and a few high-bush cranberries. Berry picking and eating was great...