Chapter 11: Life on the Farm

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— Full chapters will appear in the printed published book. —

After my dad died, our days on the farm always seemed the same, but the routine changed somewhat. Cliff didn’t always get out of bed to help us in the morning. Sometimes he just yelled at us from his bedroom and we went out and do the chores on our own. By the time my brothers put on their winter coats and were ready to go outside, I was expected to be downstairs and ready, too. I always was. I didn’t want to know what the consequences would be if I wasn’t out of the house by the time Cliff got up. When we came back in the house, Cliff would be sitting at the kitchen table eating his breakfast.

There were a few mornings when it was 40 degrees below, which is actually the point where Celsius and Fahrenheit are the same. That is brutal cold. We hauled the water to the cows because it was too cold for them to come out from the barn. Not too cold for us, but too cold for the cows.

On the weekends in the winter, as I came up from the barn to the house for breakfast, I could often hear the chain saws in the distance, the sound carrying far through the still cold air. That usually meant a full day working in the bush, so I had no time to play in my room, something which I loved to do. When we went out to the bush to work for the day, I made sure I was dressed well, though once I started working, I warmed up quickly. I had felt boots with liners that were a bit too big for me. I wore layers of socks, but my feet were still often cold. Immediately after breakfast, we got into the pick-up truck and headed out to one of Cliff’s wood lots.

My brothers and Cliff used the chain saws to cut down the trees and cut the bigger limbs off. Then they used the axe to cut off the smaller limbs. They cut mostly hardwood: pine and spruce. Sometimes they cut down poplar, too. We needed some of the wood to heat our house, but Cliff sold as much as he could to the Dryden Paper Company, the mill. I learned some new information about how wood was measured. The length of each log was eight feet. A cord was four feet tall, by four feet wide, by eight feet long. The amount of wood to be sold to the mill was always sold in cords. I don’t think that knowledge helped me very much in life, however.

Since I didn’t have the strength to carry a chain saw or wield an axe with much power, Cliff gave me another job to do. He taught me how to skid wood. He showed me how to harness up the horse, hook up a single tree to drag behind it, and attach a heavy chain to that. Once the men had cut down and limbed an area of the bush, they moved to work in the area where the wood was stacked for pick-up. My job was to take the horse by the bridle and lead it through the thick forest to the area where the trees had been felled and limbed. I grabbed the heavy chain, wrapped it around two or three logs at a time using my judgment based on their circumference, and inserted the hook into one of the links so that the chain was tight. I tugged on the chain to make sure it was snug, so the wood would not fall off on the way to the loading area. Once this was done, I positioned myself in front of the horse and pulled on his bridle. This was a signal for the horse to pull forward. It took some inertia to get the logs moving. The horse then lunged forward and gave a snort or two. Sometimes it was a heavy load and took a few lunges before the logs budged.

After the initial start, the logs slid easily across the packed snow. I was careful and knew that I must back away immediately, because the horse had one purpose and he knew what it was, to bring the logs to the main loading area as quickly as possible. The horse knew exactly where to go and it took off with good speed. I walked behind to make sure the logs didn’t get hung up on a stump or a tree causing the horse to stop abruptly. If that happened, I took the horse by the bridle and pulled it to the side, to get the logs freed up again. Usually, I just walked behind and caught up with the horse at the loading area, a few minutes after the horse got there on his own. I unhitched the chain to loosen the logs, grabbed the horse by the bridle, turned it around and led it back to get some more.

I got to be quite good at this and was very proud of myself. I was doing a man’s worth of labour and I was still not 11 years old. The hours passed by quickly. Soon it was time for lunch, a tuna or bologna sandwich and a cup of warm sugary tea. Compared to any other job, I liked this one the most. I liked to work with the horse, too. Once it started to get dark, we quit and went home. We had all done a good day’s work, but we still had to do the evening chores in the barn before dinner.

Though I proved to be a competent skidder, no one warned me of the possible danger and I was unaware of it, too. This one time, I had just finished putting the chain around the logs, tugging on it to make sure it was tight, and the horse took off before I could move out of the way. It happened so fast I had no time to react. The heavy logs skidded right over top of me. But I was lucky because they didn’t hit my head. The snow was soft so I was able to sink into it and I emerged unscathed, a few small rips in my jacket, and a little shaken.

The short, jagged stubs of branches with the heavy weight of the logs could have ripped me to shreds. I could have been dragged along and smashed against a tree. I pulled myself out of the snow and looked at the big dent my body made in it from the weight of the heavy logs pushing down on me. I dusted off the snow and trudged back to the wood pile where the horse was standing, waiting patiently. Such a smart animal, even if it unknowingly almost killed a poor little girl. I unhitched the logs and carried on.

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My idea to try to be cute and clever had backfired completely. I was so deeply embarrassed. In front of me was this sweet little girl being praised and adored, and I was just the freak child. I wanted to slink away and disappear. I wished I had never said anything. I should have known better but I was just copying something that had amused others before, and thought it might be funny again. I had no idea it would get this kind of awkward reaction. I was so ashamed to leave this impression on the Maylings, especially since they had been so kind to me. We didn’t stay long after that, but it seemed like way too long to me. I couldn’t wait to leave.

Another good lesson learned. I should be much more careful about what I say to people. I could not predict their reaction. If ever in doubt, I should just say nothing. It was better to be quiet. If I say nothing, no one can make fun of me.