August 20

Sun is on the theremometer - says 30C. Sunny.

The great weather continues although rain is forecast for next week.

Got a whole chapter done yesterday on the Pearces. M got back yesterday, but I did get the house clean, bed made and laundry done before she got here.

DEATH OF A WOODSHED

S

ome who read this little story may well remember the event, your version maybe a bit different but this is how I remember that winter day.

 In the 1940’s the school was a single room that contained some twenty plus kids, the grades were from grade one to grade eight.  Because of our forced proximity for six hours a day we were much like a large family.  The older ones helped the younger ones, we squabbled with one another and we played together.

 I do not recall if we got much snow at Lund, but I suspect it was and is like other coastal communities, not a lot and not every winter.  In any event, for kids it was then as it is today, a major event and a source of fun.  This particular morning we awoke to a snow fall of some five to six inches.

 Recess arrived and everyone was outside, snowballs were flying!  At some point a large ball started to be rolled, probably intended to be the base of a snowman.  But recess was over and the completion or at least the further growth of the ball had to wait until lunch time.  When we were dismissed for lunch a wild scramble ensued with getting coats on and getting outside!  Snow balls continued to be tossed but gradually the focus of attention was directed to the snowball that was rapidly getting larger.  Eventually it got to the stage where it was just too large to roll unless of course we could change direction and roll it down hill.   This we did.   Its mass was increasing and it came to a rest against a rock that rose above the normal slope.

We could not roll it sideways, so there it stalled.  Then someone, one of the younger ones I believe, suggested we dig out part of the snow so that it would move forward and on to the rock.  No sooner said than done, and lo and behold the snowball moved; with the combined effort of all who could squeeze in the huge snowball was rolled over and beyond the offending rock!   Great! No, wait the snowball now was on steeper ground, it kept going under its own momentum.  With every foot of progress it picked up speed, it picked up more snow and it gained weight!

 Perhaps thirty feet from where the snowball took on a life of its own there was a sheer drop to the beach level.

Built at the foot of the drop, full of his winter’s supply, was the woodshed of Mr. Anderson.  With unerring aim that snowball roared down the slope, over the bank and smack onto the flat roof of the woodshed!  Now, in addition to a winter’s supply of wood, he also had a winter’s supply of kindling!

 Mr. Anderson was somewhat miffed.  By the time he heard the crash, surveyed the damage and tracked the snowball’s path, there was not a kid on the outside of the school.  He came into the classroom, yep he was miffed alright, had a talk with the teacher and was successful in conscripting “volunteers” to clean up the mess.  We sorted out the wood from the wreckage, re-piled the wood and he reconstructed his woodshed.  That ended that.

I

 imagine in today’s world it would not end there.  We would probably try and find a couple of individuals to blame, parents would be involved, the police would probably be called in. 

I’ll take the old days anytime.