Born in 1929, I'd never lived without electricity (am not sure when we first got it - generated by water from Niagara) and we had a cistern under the house, with a hand pump on the sink in the pantry to pump rainwater into a basin in the sink. Dug wells at two barns, with hand pumps to pump water for cattle and horses. Another well in the yard for drinking water, which Dad said needed cleaning, but he was afraid to go down into it for fear some of the brick, stone, concrete, etc. wall might fall in on him ... so he had a drilled well made in 1936, during the depression.
He'd taken over the farm from Grandpa shortly after his marriage in 1925 and about 1940, when he was 39, he was complaining to the local banker that it seemed as though he'd worked awfully hard for the last 10 years, but had achieved little. The banker said that he'd achieved quite lot: bought a better tractor (twice, I think), upgraded his car, and not only got a drilled well and pump (which provided water in the house at a tap at the other end of the sink) but had installed water lines to three barns, one at some distance ... while many people in our area had achieved nothing at all, in fact, many were worse off. We had water from the cistern put into a reservoir at the back of the stove for heating, and bathed on Saturday night in a round tub on the kitchen floor behind the stove. Heated water in a copper boiler on Monday morning to use in the wringer washer in the summer kitchen to wash clothes, which were hung on a line outside, in summer ... on a line in the basement and/or a folding wooden clothes horse behind the wood-fired kitchen stove in winter. Part of our chores as kids was to fill the wooden box behind the stove with firewood from the woodshed on the other side of the summer kitchen.
For nine years till Dad stopped farming in Ontario in 1945, he hadn't installed a bathroom with running water - quite likely he would have, had Mom been with us. When nature called in summer we went from the kitchen through the summer kitchen and a back porch to a two-holer privy at its end (so didn't have to go out in the rain). We had a seat with bucket inside, vented into one of the four chimnies in one of our six bedrooms upstairs (3 had closets) which we used in winter. The chimnies were for heating stoves before the furnace, which burned wood and sometimes coal if Dad felt prosperous: it was a convection furnace, with no fan, the warm air circulated by rising, and there were cold air registers in various rooms which led through pipes to the lower part of the heated air chamber.
I was about 10.5 when World War II started in 1939, 16 when it closed in '45 and in those years we had to give up ration coupons when we bought sugar, butter, etc. ... including gas. Which meant that we drove the car only for essentials. My old uncle, pretty well confined to bed, had a 13-year old Hudson car that hadn't moved for several years and Dad, worried that he couldn't get permission to buy a tire for our car, which we needed badly, using a trailer to haul goods for the farm. He told Dad to use his car however he could, so Dad had the garage cut the old square back off and weld it back to the body just behind the front seats, leaving the frame bare from there back, so he built a platform back there, called it a home-made truck ... and got permission to buy 4 tires for it, as the old tires were deteriorated.
Until the end of the war, I'd never travelled more than 30 miles from home: once to visit relatives in a nearby town, and again occasionally for Dad to visit Mom in hospital in a nearby city - but it was a psych. hospital and we couldn't go in. My last sight of Mom was in her coffin, looking rather old, after 8 years in psych. hosp., with rather stringy gray hair ... age 39.
At the end of the war when Dad was arranging a move to the Prairies, due to having rather major breathing problems, he and I travelled 75 miles from home in his newly purchased two-ton truck to visit other relatives during the winter. Though I was about 25 miles from Niagara Falls at the time, I'd never been there - Dad and Mom honeymooned at Niagara in 1925.
Enough for now - I need some sleep, as I need to pick peas and beans to take to church at 10.
ole joyful
dotmom
susan_on
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