The Cookie Jar

My maternal grandparents, Albert and Emily Heffner, raised their family of four boys and four girls on a farm located between Bruderheim and Lamont, Alberta.  When the children had all married and left home, they sold the farm and moved to a small, two bedroom house in northeast Edmonton and Grandpa found work at a lumber yard.  The tiny white home was surround by a white picket fence and a small lawn dotted with beds of Grandma's favorite flowers including red, white and pink peonies, a variety of daisies, hollyhocks, delphiniums, and a bed of what I'd call 'wild flowers'.  There was also a mauve lilac bush that filled the yard with its fragrance when it bloomed in the spring.  The backyard was fully planted in vegetables to be used through the winter but included an abundant planting of sugar peas to which the grandchildren were allowed to help themselves.

 

The interior of the house was sparsely furnished.  There were no pieces of furniture of great value and they were not in the latest style.  However, there was one item in the house that reminded me of my Grandmother more than anything else. In the kitchen standing on top of the refrigerator was a big. red apple cookie jar decorated with one green leaf.  When we visited, the practice was for the grandchildren to sit around the kitchen table with Grandma while the adults visited in the living room.  Grandma would get down the cookie jar, always stocked with ginger snaps, and place it on the center of the kitchen table so that we could enjoy some cookies.

 

Years later, after Grandma passed away, Grandpa sold the house and moved to Richmond, B.C. to live with his second eldest daughter.  I don't know what became of the cookie jar; it was probably given away.  However, years later when on a shopping trip, I came across a similar cookie jar and decided to purchase it for nostalgia's sake.  Unfortunately, I did not have enough money on me to make the purchase and so I thought I would buy it next time I was in the store.  You can guess what happened and you will be right.  The red apple cookie jar was gone, the last one in stock, and the proprietor had no plans to restock the item.  In vain, I tried some other stores without success so Grandma's cookie jar remains only as a fond  memory.

 

 

                                                                          

 

Red Apple Cookie Jar 

 

Kids Do the Weirdest Things

Kids do the weirdest things and it must be credited to their insatiable curiosity and has nothing to do with what might be construed by some as their being naughty.  Such was the case with a situation my daughter found herself in when she was about twelve.

I was a pastor and pastors are called upon from time to time to conduct funeral services as part of their duties to congregants.  The service I have in mind was for a relative, an Uncle from my wife's side of the family.  The service was conducted not in the church but in the chapel of a small funeral establishment in a small town near Vancouver.  When I arrived at the Funeral Home with my family, they went into the chapel to be with other relatives and I was shown to a small office reserved for clergy to wait for the service to begin.  Little did I realize that not all my family stayed waiting in the chapel.  Shortly, a much displeased funeral director came into the clergy office to confront me.  He had my daughter in tow.

"I would appreciate you taking control of your daughter," the man said, indignantly, "I caught her opening doors and peeking into rooms that are not open to the public.  That is not permissible."

Other than childish curiosity, I had no idea why my daughter did what she did nor am I sure of what she was expecting to find.  Picture it - a young girl sneaking up and down the hallway in, of all places, a funeral home.  Watch her furtively glancing over her shoulder to see if she was being observed.  She must have known that what she was doing was wrong.  Perhaps she was expecting something to sneak up  behind her, grab her, and say, "Boo!"  And imagine her stealthily opening closed doors not knowing what might be behind them.

My daughter's behavior was totally out of character and I must admit that I was caught by surprise.  I apologised to the gentleman and then asked my daughter, "What were you thinking?  What did you expect to see?"

Unperturbed by the funeral director's annoyance, she replied, "I just wanted to see where they keep the bodies!"

The Skating Rink

A recent story in a Canadian newspaper about a backyard skating rink being shut down because of a complaint from a neighbour and the rink actually breaking municipal regulations jogged my memory about the skating rinks built in my backyard many years ago.  Those were the days when there didn't seem to be so many regulations or grouchy neighbours who have nothing better to do than complain (NIMBY- not in my backyard - can effectively stop many projects from ever happening).

The ice rink that my brothers and I made in the backyard was not fancy or professional but it gave us a place to skate and play hockey even if we were no Wayne Gretsky (he learned to play hockey on a rink made by his Dad).  This was the 1950's in Edmonton and many homes had backyard rinks because there were so few alternatives (not like today with fantastic facilities) although community rinks were appearing.  Those rinks were surround by a board fence and had a shed where you could go to put on skates or go back inside to warm up around a hot stove.  Some even had a tuck shop where you could buy candy, pop, and potato chips.  They also had music playing  from speakers  mounted on the outside of the shed and playing the latest Hit Parade songs.

Work on our rink began in earnest in late October and early November after all the garden vegetables had been harvested.  The south section of our lot was carefully levelled and banks of earth built to form the perimeter of the rink.  When the weather was cold enough to remain freezing, the banks were sprayed with water so they froze solid.  After that, fresh snow was removed from the ice surface and was used to build up the banks.  By the end of November, when the cold had really set in, the ice was thick and smooth enough to skate on.  Maintenance consisted of removing fresh snow from the ice surface and spraying the ice with water to keep it smooth and increase its thickness.

Many happy hours were spent skating on that rink and having friends come over to play hockey.  One of the neighbours, the second house down from us, sometimes hosted a huge bonfire where all of us could gather around, drinking hot chocolate or roasting wieners on a stick.  Nobody was excluded and so it made for getting to know your neighbours really well.  Those days are in the past and I must say that I was sorry to read about that rink needing to be closed.  I hope common sense prevails and there is a way to keep it open.

  

                                                                              

 

Skating Rink - Edmonton 1950's