The Squamidian Report – July 28 / 18
 
Issue #844

Including:
From Russ
From Ewan
From Lorne
From Carol
The Ontarion

Hi All,

Disclaimer..... these stories are from my memory, as seen through my eyes. Your version may differ.

I guess that one of the reasons I've been writing about being a kid up on the old farm is that its summer now and thats when and where most of my memories are from. So I'll do a bit more before moving on to more resent events. One of the big attractions for my brothers and I was driving the tractors. What kid could possibly resist. The usual summer reason for being permitted to drive a tractor was that it would be haying season and they needed someone to drive. Loved that. Firstly the hay had to be cut, using a big mower that was pulled or carried by a tractor. You'd spend hours on end cutting the hay. Some of those fields were pretty big and could take a couple of days to complete. Then, once the freshly cut hay had sun dried, it had to be raked into wind-rows. That was another implement that was either pulled behind the tractor or by the neighbor's big Clydesdale horse team, named Major & Dainty. And yes, that mowed hay smelled incredible. If someone were to ever need an excuse to own a farm, the anticipated aroma of newly cut hay would do just fine.

Once the hay was raked into big fluffy rows it had to be picked up and brought to the barn. In the earlier days the process was the same as it had been for the previous hundred years or so. The hay wagon was pulled by the horses or tractor and the wagon in tern pulled a hay elevator, a funny contraption that picked up the hay from the row it was being pulled over and deposited it onto a canvas conveyor belt that dumped it onto the back of the wagon. The hay would then have to be forked forward and upward until the wagon was full at which point the elevator was unhitched and the wagon was pulled to, and then onto, the thrash floor of the barn where the hay fork would then grab big mouthfuls of hay from the wagon, lift it high and then along the track laterally to over the hay mow where the fork's tines would be tripped and the hay would drop into the mow. A person working in the mow would be 'mowing' the hay, distributing and pilling it as necessary to properly fill the mow. That hay fork was a very large U-shaped metal unit that hung from a trolly that ran along a track suspended under the peak of the barn roof and was raised by a system of ropes and pulleys pulled by either a tractor or a horse. The hay, now in the barn, would be 'loose' as apposed to bailed.

Once technology and the ability to have one permitted, they bought a bailer. That changed the process quite a bit. The hay still had to be cut and raked into wind-rows but now a tractor was needed to pull the bailer as the bailer was powered from the tractors's power take-off, a splined shaft that protruded out the back end of the tractor to supply engine power to various implements. Most powered implements were designed to be run and a specific PTO speed, which meant the tractor had to be set to that speed. Behind the bailer was the hay wagon and the bailer would spit out the bails onto the front end of the wagon where we would then pick them up and pile them, until the wagon was full. At that point the wagon would be unhitched and pulled to the barn where the bails would be unloaded onto a bail elevator, a very long conveyor system that could reach up and into the mows where the bails would be manually stacked. Either way, it was hard, exhausting work and we loved it. We'd go back to school in the fall with bigger muscles than anyone else around. Incidentally, if the hay was not properly dried it could not be bailed as it could start to heat up and in fact heat up to the point where it would spontaneously go up in flames. Many barns over the years have burned because of moisture in the hay. Should the hay in the fields be deemed still too wet, or if a bit of rain had made it wet, the wind-rows had to be turned over with the rake, sometimes several times once the sun was back out.

I've got one final episode of farm memories for next week, talking about harvest time and manure spreading. Both involving driving tractors of course.

A foot note about those old tractors up on my mother's parent's farm....

My earliest memories are of their Ferguson tractor. It was small by today's standards and while it had an electric starter, it also had a hand crank for when or if the starter didn't work. I don't recall the model and have not been able to pin that info down (it may have been a TE-20 or TO-20). Fergusons were developed by Harry Ferguson in England. As well, he invented the hydraulic system and 3-point hitch that would go on to standard in all farm equipment. Their old Ferguson had the hydraulics and three-point-hitch system. Then at some point they added a very old Ford. I don't remember it staying around very long and it disappeared sometime before they got their nice shiny new Massey Ferguson 35 diesel, and their MF bailer. Massey had been in the farm implement business for ever, as was the Harris company. They got together and formed Massey Harris. There are still lots of old Massey Harris tractors out there even today, mostly restored and in someone's collection. Then, MH and Ferguson got together and became Massey Ferguson and that company went on to being a very big, world wide producer of farm equipment and tractors. Ironically, while MF's were originally made in Canada, they were bought out by AGCO and are now made in the US as well as in factories spread all around the world (somehow we get the raw end of all the deals). And that old Ford.... it would have been made in Ireland. Thats where old Henry Ford set up his tractor division. None of these machines had cabs for the operator to sit in, comfortably out of the weather. That kind of thing was almost un-heard of back then. You sat out in the sun, rain, hot, cold, snow and wind and whatever else nature decided to throw at you. Oh, did you know that many modern tractors have both a PTO, hydraulic taps, and a lifting hitch system on the front as well as at the back end?

The tractor that was used to power the thrashing machine (that I'll mention next week) was my mother's uncle Earl's very old Case. It was an antique even way back then. It had the necessary side mounted pulley that was powered from the tractors engine and that pulley turned the belt that ran that old thrasher. It didn't have any hydraulic system at all or any electrical starter system, it had to be hand cranked.
doug
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From Russ

Waterloo Regional Police Service nowadays has established several ‘precincts’ throughout the region, and I believe there’s one downtown Kitchener, as well as the ‘original’ police station on Frederick Street. (Actually, the original police station was on King Street, East @ Frederick Street, in the basement of City Hall, and I have some fond/funny/sad memories of that ‘stinky’ place!)
 
During the mid 50’s, there was an ‘informal’ precinct located on Ontario Street, North, a restaurant called the “Chicken Nest”, where all the beat cops and most cruiser cops gathered at the back door at the end of the night-shift (7AM) for a free breakfast!
 
Oh, oh! Who’s protecting the city? Our ‘relief’, the Day-shift, was still back in the station on Frederick Street being “briefed”!
 
Please don’t quote me, but as I recall, when Deputy Chief Ewan Cameron became “Acting Chief”, he put an abrupt stop to this dangerous, unacceptable police behaviour, when he posted a Notice:
 
“From now on, when you need food or drink, go in the FRONT door of the restaurant like any other patron; place your order, eat, PAY FULL PRICE, and leave by the same door”
 
Ewan was a sound believer in the concept: “That free coffee is the beginning of POLICE CORRUPTION”. (Research proves it’s true)
 
Next week: I learn how to stay dry, keep cool/warm, and find ‘relief’.
 
Your old Uncle Russ (Constable # 20)
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From Ewan

Hello all!
 
It’s been far too long. Where to begin? I got engaged to Alison, we bought a house with a tenant, had a baby boy named Quinn and eventually got married. The only bad news is that they made me a manager at work. I’ve been slowly resurfacing and poking my head up once in a while. It’s been good to hear from the people contributing. Thank you!
 
Recently my mom (Gale) came to visit Quinn, and once he was in bed Alison and I had a rare chance to get out of the house together. It didn’t much matter where we went. The Beaches International Jazz Festival is on. She doesn’t care for jazz and I’ll listen to almost anything. There is only one beach in the area and it isn’t there. That day was Latin Carnival, and neither of us is very much into Latin music. On the other hand it was free and close to our house to off we went!
 
Expectations are a big part of going out to see live music. Having none is actually a great way to have a good time. By the time we got there two thirds of the grounds were empty which is a huge plus for any event in Toronto. It was clean and there were people busy making sure it stayed that way. I have mixed feelings about food trucks, but there were a bunch of really good ones there and we ate excellent tacos, followed by some ice cream. We ate in the “beer garden” which was almost half of the venue. Actually we wondered into it without realizing it, and stayed for the clean and plentiful tables. No one was smoking. It was tough to find things wrong.
 
Everywhere there were people either dancing or just relaxing. The music was high energy and intensely positive, making it almost impossible not to have fun. The stage was packed with musicians, all of them playing horns, drumming or singing. Between the songs one of them would speak, entirely in Spanish. I know just enough Spanish to know that he was speaking Spanish rather than Portuguese but I could be wrong. Whatever he was saying it sounded great and I was totally behind him. My left eye was twitching off and on for about a month and I noticed it stopped, which was a relief. Even the walk in and out was relaxing.
 
Alison got a couple of mosquito bites but that was the only downside. Now we just need to prevent getting our hopes up for next year, or expecting anything. Not really over planning is also helpful. It seems to be the way in the summer, just let it happen once in a while.
 
Ewan
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From Lorne

The farm' has been a recent topic.  That is where Doug was born, in the house on the farm. That same house, a few years earlier, hosted the marriage and wedding of Doug's parents. Vivyan, the woman that became Doug's mother by way of giving birth, was determined to be home for Christmas. So we, my wife Vivyan, young daughter Gale, who would become Doug's sister in a few short hours, and I , who would become Doug's father about the same time, drove to 'the farm'. Very bad winter weather and very bad roads. We got about 1/2 way when the old car  quit NE of Alma on a back road. I made my way to the garage in Alma and they were able to get us running again and finely arrived at the farm that evening. The house was full of all sorts of neighbors, relatives, and her family. I was not aware and hadn't noticed that Vivyan's mother was excitedly running to and fro. Jack, she shouted, that was Vivyan's father '' get in the model A and meet the doctor at the corner as he is stuck and can't get here to deliver the baby''. 'Baby? some body thinking of having a baby?  'Yes! and you go with him to help'!  Well, someone called the ambulance and they got right into the lane. We got back with the doctor only to find that Vivyan had been pregnant but her mother had already delivered the baby and was setting the table for the usual midnight snack. The storm ragged all through  the night. Neither the 2 ambulance attendants or the doctor could leave.  Her uncle Elmer who slept through it all, in the morning was given the baby to hold, asked " Is this a new one? have I seen it before'?  'Ya, no  you haven't, we call him Douglas.
Lorne
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From Carol

It is amazing how dependent we become on our computers.  Ours crashed last week.  Before that we were having trouble receiving our emails for a few days.  I thought turning it off, including the power source, would reset it for receiving emails.  What happened was it just wouldn’t turn on again.  I thought that maybe the connection between the hard drive and monitor might not be working but all the connections were attached and not loose.  Our tech support (grandson Cam) was finally able to make it over.  He couldn’t figure out what was happening but there was 2 connecting wires between the hard drive and monitor so he disconnected the older style one as he couldn’t see the need for it, and low and behold it worked!  We still don’t know why, after all this time, it started to cause problems but at least we can read our Squid again.

Catching up on the Squamidian I noticed Rosemary’s reply saying it was interesting to learn more about her uncle Will & aunt Emma.  Wrong grandparents Rosie.  Dad’s parents didn’t farm, Mom’s did.  We kept pink cows one year in the Brubacher barn and chickens before Dad built our coop and I remember the horrible geese Grandpa Brubacher once had and they had a garden but that is about all.  If you want to know how Dad ended up turning the cows pick you will have to ask him. Doug’s recollections were about our time near Cedarville.  Doug and I share some of the same memories but mine are from a different perspective.  I remember churning butter, having to help with the hand powered wringer washer, helping Grandma bake, how Grandma knew when the temperature was right on her wood fired oven for baking I will never know. I also had to drive the tractor carefully between the rows when the older workers walked along with pitchforks pitching I don’t remember what onto the wagon.  Walking beams and jumping in the haymow was also fun, so was riding the sow, Susie, who would dump us into the pond.  There was also hiding in the woodshed to read all the Saturday coloured comics that went all the way back to the 1920’s.  My grandparents never threw anything out, the newspapers were burned but the comics were not.  I also remember visiting the old farmer, Perry, across the way to ride his work horses, Dainty and Major, bareback, three kids astride.  Perry always offered us freshie made with brown sugar.  We accepted but, trust me, you do not want to drink freshie made with brown sugar.  Karin & Karl from Australia are here with us.  (I know you all enjoy Karl’s photos when he sends them in).  Al, Vivvy and I took Karin to Doon Village on Wednesday.  The farm there had reminders of our grandparent’s farm for me but for Karin the place evoked memories of the farm they lived on, up the road from the Homestead, before they moved to Australia.  We are going to be sorry when Karin & Karl move on to stay at the next family members place but at least we got them first.
Carol
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THE ONTARION REPORT

Hello everyone!
Things have been a tad busy around here over the past week! As you know, we brought the MGB home last Thursday. Once I had it in the garage again I decided to do some minor service on it. I spent Friday changing the oil and doing minor cleaning that they missed at the body shop. It’s not easy to get paint overspray off the black tires and also off the rubber bumpers. I finally managed to do so and of course that took a lot of bending and crawling around the car. I also had to replace the dash switch that controls the 4-way flashers. Of course the switch was very difficult to get at from underneath the dash on the driver’s side. I had to open the door and lay on my back in a very awkward position on the driver’s seat with my head and shoulders tucked under the steering wheel and dash of the car. What a tight spot to get into when you’re old and creaky like me! Actually, at any age it would be a test of one’s agility! I finally managed to remove the switch and install the new one. Once in place, it still didn’t work! Although, with the new switch in place and a new “flasher” unit in place also, the turn indicators finally started to work again. The 4-ways still would not work so once Adam came home from work we tackled finding the problem on Saturday.

I guess all the stretching and straining I did on Friday caused a tear in the tendon on the bottom of my left foot and waking up on the weekend I could hardly walk. I managed to do so with the use of a cane from Carole’s cane collection. Luckily with Adam being an electrician, he’s great at reading wiring diagrams and he finally sorted out the 4-way flasher-wiring problem for me. After monkeying with that for a couple of hours we decided to install a different radio CD player in the MG. The old one was one that I had installed many years ago and it was a cassette player. Or course most of our new music is on CD so it was no great loss to have the old radio drop dead! Adam had a beautiful radio/CD player from his modern BMW Mini Cooper. He figured it would fit in the MG opening. He and I sat and he rewired all the tangled mess of wiring harness that had run the old radio. Once that was sorted out, he hooked up the Mini Radio and lo and behold the display showed that it was “Locked” and was of no use! As it turned out, once that radio was removed from his Mini, there was an internal safety glitch in it that rendered it useless in any other application. From checking on line, we found out that this was an anti-theft feature from BMW and the radio could only be used in another BMW product and had to be reset to work by a BMW dealer. What a kick in the shins that was after all that time and work! So Adam went to 2001 Audio and found a deal on a new Clarion AM/FM/CD player and brought it home along with a set of new speakers. He installed the new stereo and speakers over the weekend and it sounds amazing! Luckily Adam and Carole had given me some money for Father’s Day to do just that, buy and install a new stereo in the MG. SO, everything worked out just fine!

I’m still recuperating from the foot problem so it’s going to be another few days or so until I can get in and drive the MG once again. Of course I’m still looking forward to my first drive in this bright shiny refurbished convertible! There are still a couple of things that I’d like to add to the car and today I spent a couple of hours gluing my new carpet set into the trunk. I have one more piece of carpet to install to finish the job and then the inside of the trunk will look like a million bucks too! As you likely have figured by now, this classic car hobby is an ongoing process and it all takes time and money! With one or two more items to pick up to finish the project it’ll take another month or two and all will be complete. In the meantime, it’s mostly done and the rest is cosmetic interior work. Of course the car has a good interior in it right now but we want to change the colour of the interior trim from beige to black so it’ll match the black seats! This means purchasing the interior door panels and several other trim panels in the black colour and installing them once they are delivered to the house. SO, that means more money and more time to install! It’s all in good time and good fun! The MG will be a totally different looking vehicle once this is all completed! It’s been fun but it’s taken a long long time to complete all the updating and refurbishment! Pretty much only guys can get this “fun” aspect of such a hobby into their heads so I hope I haven’t bored the women of Squamidian too much! What would the Squamidian be all about if not for motorcycles, starry skies, classic vehicles and old spun yarns by a few old guys who like to write! Memories and old guy’s tales are pretty much what this weekly script is all about and I doubt it’ll change unless more of you start writing in to Doug with submissions of your own! It’s always fun to hear anything any of you have to say so please do send something in whenever you get the urge!
In the meantime, that’s it for this week’s edition of The Ontarion Report!

Thanks for tuning in and I’ll look forward to talking to you all again next week in The Ontarion Report!
Bye for now … Greg

PS: Something To Think About>
See if you can come up with a good “Old Women’s or Guy’s Tale of Your Own for Next Week! I’m Sure we’d all enjoy anything you have to write about!        
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Have a good one..
the doug
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The articles in these issues are the sole property of the persons writing them and should be respected as such.