1955 Paul McIntyres Birthday

 On Easter Monday it was Paul's third birthday.

The party was at the McIntyre's in the afternoon at their place on Findlay Street. Twelve children and five mothers were present, with two fathers holed up in the kitchen of the next apartment, beer and sandwiches as their solace. They looked at each other in dismay when twelve small people streamed past them to watch TV.

  Wilf and 1 went to the K.C. dance last night. Somehow or other a party grew at our place before the dance. Our intention was to go with another couple, starting out at our place. It grew to five couples. Everyone wanted to get to the dance early, so I told them to come early. Nobody arrived until after ten p.m., and by that time I was asleep on the Chesterfield. It was a nice dance,-but we didn't get home until 3 am which is much too late (or early?) for Katherine!

 I had Tuesday morning off fortunately so got the washing done early in the morning and went to bed for an hour in the afternoon and went back to work at six pm to recuperate from my  joyous Easter weekend.

1985 New Years Eve

DO YOU KNOW WHERE YOU WERE IN THE EARLY 

HOURS OF THE NEW YEAR OF 1985?

12.45 a.m. January 1985.

It is the first hour of the New Year of 1985. I am writing this in my "office" on the second floor (McDougall) at my old green desk. .1 am "baby-sitting" grandchildren.

Joanna and Sarah are sleeping in "the blue room"—Joanna on a cot, and Sarah in the bed. In Mother's old room, on the creaky bed, Angela and Rachel are sleeping.

Mary Jane just phoned. At the Yorke's house are Michael and Donna, Jim. and Susan., Mary Jane and John, partying. Sleeping there are Kyle and Michael.

At Suzanne's house are Brendon, Christina, Steven, Jennifer and Mark Boyar, a pal of Brendon's. They are supposedly sleeping. Suzanne is out on a date.That accounts for all children and grandchildren.

At that point on New Year's Eve, Angela wakes up, crying for her mother.' Angela does not cry quietly.Joanna's head comes up from her cot. "What's wrong with her?" Then down with covers over her head. Sarah. sleeps quietly. Rachel. is not so stoic. She begins to cry because Angela is crying.

1 decide not to phone "my Mommie" and create a baby-sitting crisis so 1 propped myself on the bed, having wrapped Angela in an afghan.. She wouldn't lie down so I held her in my arms, with Rachel pasted to my side. I quieted them by saying we would not hear Jimmy's van coming up the street, if Angela kept on crying. So it is sniffs and quiet. We wait and listen, and in a while we hear the van, and all is well.

On New Years day Susan, Jimmy, Angela, Sarah, Joanna and 1 went to 12 Noon. Mass. Wilf did the reading. Sarah couldn't find, her quarter for the collection and was so embarrassed when the usher just stood there, that she put $1.00 in the basket. A traumatic experience—all, her riches gone!

HAPPY NEW YEAR, 2007 GRANDMA.

1950's Christmas Reflections

Christmas comes, doesn't it?

   Christmas begins sometime along about the end of October when Mother and I look at each other firmly, and resolve that this year we are definitely going to cut down. In the first few days of Christmas shopping we actually believe it. We are "just looking around". Then we make out the lists, and really get down to business, and, as every other year, January becomes a horrible month. But at least we do try. 

   Every year the list is lengthened, this year by two, Jimmy, and Danny Gallivan, a son and a new nephew. That  makes: Mother, Mary, Jim, Frank, Louise, Michael, Danny, Patrick, Brian and Danny (Western Danny), Eddy, Kay, Danny (Eastern Danny) Terry, Vincent, Marian, Gail, Lena, Toni, Ede, Omer, Fred, Rhoda, Vincent, Lenore, Michele, and ourselves, Wilf, me, Mary Jane, Suzanne and Jimmy Pat. Thirty-one gifts!!

   We try to keep each child's gift, except our own children and Mother's gift, fewer than three dollars, Try, I says it never works, but at least it is a guide.

   Christmas really begins-- the work, that is around the First of December. There isn't any use doing any concentrated cleaning before then because, in our house, it doesn't last. So the first two weeks of December are given over to cleaning and shopping. In theory the last week before Christmas is exclusively for baking. In theory, the gifts are wrapped. The ones for out of town have long ago been mailed, in theory.

   Then why is it that Mother and I are frantically sorting and wrapping presents after Wilf has gone to Midnight Mass? What happened to the theory, as we wrap as quietly as possible, listening intently for small people who might waken and wander?

1955 Happy Easter

HAPPY EASTER--1955

   Somehow or other, in between times, I have to find time to record our hectic lives. Easter weekend, for instance! It was my weekend off work, so I cleaned the house on Good Friday. I hope the Good Lord understands that work is presently my form of prayer. I missed the three o'clock Way of the Cross for the first time in my life. Reason: the ironing was so far ahead of Mrs. Kleiber (our part time housekeeper) that she had to spend all her time during the week on it, rather than on the cleaning.

Thursday was mother's birthday (75); Friday was Wilf's birthday (39), so we combined both celebrations on Easter Sunday.

   On Easter Saturday (Lent over) Mary Jane and Suzanne went to Nancy Danz's birthday party-- a theatre party. Suzanne was thrilled to go. Mary Jane was hesitant because she does not like shows. They are too real for her, I guess. She weeps at the slightest sadness, and is terrified if it is at all spooky.

   The Easter bunny was to come on Saturday night. On the way to bed that night Mary Jane threw herself languidly across her bed—a sign that a statement of world-shaking-importance was going to be made. “You know, mother, Jody and I do not believe in the Easter Bunny”, “Don’t you, now?” I replied, with my face in the clothes closet because Suzanne, who prefers to believe in fairies and such, was listening. So was Jimmy, who at almost five, had spent the past week practicing the Easter bunny hop. (Michael was safe, he was with Mother).”No, we don't”, continued Mary Jane. “And what's more, Jody and I do not believe in Santa

Claus”. “Hmm. Is that so”, said I. “Suzanne, don't you think that Mary Jane and Jody are going to miss a lot of fun in life”? “I sure do”, said Suzanne.“I believe in the old Easter Bunny”, said Jimmy. Hop! Hop! Hop!

Later that evening I discovered that I was one Easter basket short, so I made Mary Jane's Easter candy nest in a box. She was extremely hurt the next morning, because the Easter Bunny hadn't left her a basket!

   Michael celebrated by being sick before breakfast, having put four Easter eggs in his mouth all at once. Jimmy looked at his basket, examined everything carefully, then sighed a huge sigh. “Gosh! It's a long time to Cwismas”!

   On Easter Sunday evening there were nine children, all under nine, at the house for dinner: Danny, Terry, Mickey, Paul, Patrick, and our four. The nine spilled out onto the front steps and down the street and into the kitchen and through the hall and wrestled in the dining room. It was then that Mary Jane came to the horrible realization that she had, in all, thirteen boy cousins, and only two girl cousins.

Easter is a joyous day!

Some scanned pictures from not so long ago

1955 MASKINONGE BAY Camping with Granny McIntyres and Punches

MASKINONGE BAY --- 1955

Holiday Episodes

We rented a cottage by Maskinonge Bay. It was south of Pine Island. Granny and Mary and I were the adults. The six children ranged from eighteen months to nine years, and there was one cat with her three kittens.The Pontiac car we had was not very large. Mary was the driver.   Granny (75 years) and Pat (1-1/2 years) were in the front seat. I was in the back seat with Suzanne (7) who held the basket for Sadie, the cat, and the kittens. Jimmy (5), Paul (3), and Michael (2) were beside me and partly on my knees. Mary Jane (9) was scrunched in a corner because she was afraid of the cats.

   The floor was packed with groceries in boxes, and clothes in suitcases. There were also the boy’s toys: plastics rifles and sail boats and a tin aquaplane. Fortunately, Granny and Pat slept during the trip. When we arrived and opened the car doors, the cats jumped out and started to chase little chipmunks.

   The cottage was comfortable but it was old with primitive conveniences. It had walls and roof and kitchen, bedrooms and a living room but it did not have a bathroom nor a toilet.

   There was a small Outhouse built in the woods, with double holes inside. Paul was three years old, and was city-trained. He would not enter the Outhouse. He was crying and he would not let Mary take him to it. Granny called Mary and said: "Give Paul to me!"

   She held him in an outdoor rocking chair, and told him a story about boys like himself who would go up the path where kittens and chipmunks played near the Outhouse, under the trees. Granny kept rocking and Paul thought for a while, then he stopped crying and took Granny's hand and said: 'I go." Paul certainly liked it very well. When Mary and I were indoors getting the supper ready, Paul took his and Pat's new suede Davy-Crockett-jackets, and dropped them into the hole.

   We called Suzanne for help. We held her upside down by her legs so she got the jackets out of the hole. Mary took the jackets immediately and sank them in the river, left them there an hour, and then dried them on a laundry-line under the sun. That was another of the episodes.

   There was the day that Sadie, the cat attacked a skunk. I saw Jimmy run up the hill to rescue Sadie and he hugged her before I could stop him. Mary took Sadie to the dock, crooning to her poor cat, and bathing her in tomato juice. I had to take Jimmy to the bluff and peel him of the clothes, and then send him to go into the river to wash. I had to bury all his clothes. I had one murderous thought about Mary's Sadie poor cat! Sadie-poor-cat!

   Another evening Patrick crawled under the cottage. There was only about a foot clearance under the floor. There were no witnesses, we were inside, but we heard Pat's wails from the plank floor and we traced him under the cottage. He must have crawled in, then sat up between floor joists, and didn't know how to crawl out again.Granny called Suzanne and told her to creep toward Pat under the floor and to keep chocolate-marshmallow-cookies in her hands. Suzanne showed Pat the cookies and told him to keep his head down near the sand. She kept the cookies just a little bit in front him, while he wiggled carefully and got out to eat the cookies.

   One other afternoon Mary and I were enjoying the sunshine Pat seemed to have a long nap, so Mary went into the room to check him. He must have stood in the bed and reached up to the shelf and brought down two-pounds of ointment which were always used for burns and insects bites, or diaper rash. He ate some, and filled his ears with what was left, and smoothed his hairs in a pastry mess.

   Granny was afraid of being attached by wild animals. In the night she would bolt upright in the bed and announce: "I hear something!"Usually it was a squirrel rolling an acorn on the roof, or a chipmunk skittering around.

   One night there was a different noise. It was hissing. Mary and I met in the living room with a clash of flashlight beams. "A snake?" whispered Mary. We checked all the windows. We swung our flashlights in unison to find whatever creature was there. It was the three kittens who hissed at us from their strange place for sleeping: behind a wall sheet of loose boards.

   Then there were the wasps. There was a big nest in the tree directly in front of the cottage. Our brave husbands would not tackle them, neither would we!Whenever we were going to the shore we used the back door and were careful to go walk right beside the cottage, that let us miss the wasp tree.

   One afternoon everyone was settled quietly in the cottage. The younger children were sleeping, and the older ones were resting, so I decided to sit on the shore and enjoy the peace afternoon. Mary Jane was the first to come down to the beach. “What’s that stuff on your hands?" I said. “I spilled the corn syrup, Mommie. I swiped it up with towels and washed the floor but it is still a little sticky. Now I am going to swim, and get myself clean."

   Behind the cottage there was a small clearing, reached by an uphill path. There was a picnic table there and a home-made barbeque pit. Mary and I firmly believed in eating outside and Mother did not. But neither would she be left alone in the cottage. She had horror of insects, caterpillars, butterflies, and any other flying objects. When Mother spent the time outdoor she armed herself with a tea towel, and flapped it always in front of her face and the children near her.

   One memorable noon, we carted all our food and utensils to the table uphill. All the children sat at the table, and I started to give the food to them.A big black cloud appeared suddenly from over the island, and the wind brought the rain immediately. We gathered the children and the food and ran down to the cottage. We were all wet and brought mud into the cottage. Mothers looking's at us were blacker than the storm clouds.

1987 April 24 Moving day from McDougall Street

Moving Day from McDougall St

April 24, 1987

171 McDougall St where we all grew up.

An Addendum to the last journal sent …

  So I am sitting in the sun, on the porch, at empty McDougall St. waiting for the trash man to come.  I have dusted the staircase for the last time – the oak panels, the newel posts with the carved oak urns.  It is a strange feeling – numb – because if I let myself really feel I will sit here howling like a banshee.  At 11 AM this morning the title to the house passed out of my hands.  I will be relieved when it is done.  Then I can concentrate on Carol Court as our home.

         The old lilac trees are sprouting their leaves.  Spring was always the time when this old place felt young again.  I used to go upstairs and open the south windows, and take deep breaths of the lilacs.  We always brought them with us transplanted from 235 Pim to 116 Church St to here.  There were four, but two died, and the two remaining have been so battered by the ice falling three floors from the roof, that they are at about a 40° angle across the side lawn.  The house is so quiet – so quiet.  I must not think.

         The daffodils are in bloom, and the jonquils, and the early tulips.  An early spring, this year, so I was able to enjoy the Scylla, and the English violets.

         At that point, three trucks pulled up, and began to disgorge people and furniture.  Just as well, memories can be overwhelming.  But the furniture coming in was old style, beautiful wood, and the house will like it, and the family too!

         Now Wilf and I are meeting in the mall for a muffin.

         For every ending there is a beginning!