In the Valley 75

summer she spent six weeks at her old home where she did much of the house work.

Their house, built in the 1880s and still standing, had a large kitchen with one door leading to grandma’s bedroom and another to the parlor, off from which there was a cosy but little-used bedroom. The front door also opened from the kitchen which was rather unusual. Another opened into a rough stair- way and to an upstairs basically unfinished except for the general outline of two rooms. The house was heated by an old flat-type Yarmouth stove which was replaced around 1940 by a modern range with stylish green trimmings. To say the house was heated is perhaps an overstatement. They were always so afraid of a flue fire that with the least amount of wind great caution was observed around the stove so that in winter even the kitchen was often cold. Still, without any fanfare, excellent things got well cooked on these stoves.

The outbuildings, now gone, included a full-sized barn with a shed on one end and along the back. Then there was a hennery and a small building called “the foal’s house” and the garage, on the end wall of which were neatly hung each year’s number plates from 1929 onwards. As well there was a very cluttered workshop called “the shanty” and a rickety shed-roofed privy. Set in a beautiful grove some distance from the other buildings was a lightly-constructed machine house called “the dingle” which was well filled with light wagons and farming implements neatly arranged. A few feet from the dwelling was the well house, the source of all their water needs, which was always so cool even in mid summer. This little building was always a curiosity spot for us, so old fashioned it seemed drawing water that way. The wooden Windlass was well worn on one end from the pressure of many hands slowing it down over the years as the empty bucket descended for its fill. Though quite terrified by the well itself, I used to watch with amazement as each new bucket of fresh water appeared groaning and splashing to the tOp. Leading into the yard, in front of the house and extending to the road, was a fine orchard planted under government SUpervision around the turn of the century. The apples were plentiful, well mixed and tasty for all seasons.

As did other family members I worked on the Valley farm, mainly for haying and potato digging. Most often the potatoes Were rolled out with the single plow and gathered in a row with a four-pronged hoe, a method that was tidy and reasonably fast. For whatever reasons I was never anxious to stay overnight