My Dad was born in the heart of apple country: the Annapolis Valley in Nova Scotia. He knew a lot about apples! But he was born to work with telephone and electric cables. His father, brothers and sister, and many other family members worked in this field.
Although I never saw him do any of them, there were three things my father could do well: play the fiddle; make a barrel; and play hockey. They were all things he learned in his youth which disappeared when he went to war.
Some things that he taught me: how to hammer out a bent nail; how to play badminton; to love maple walnut ice cream; and, to drive a car. He taught me how to shoot a .22 rifle, too. I can still remember the smell of the old rifle range and the mattresses we had to lay on. He called them 'pallyasses' - I think they were stuffed with straw - and sometimes you'd feel a mouse run through the one you were using.
These are things that my father loved: teaching kids (us and others) how to do anything, gardening, political discussions, chocolate ice cream, sailing - and my Mom.
As a kid, I always wanted to make my Dad happy but it also seemed important to run away from his influence.
But as any apple grower will tell you: the fruit never falls very far from the tree.
2 comments:
What a sweet tribute to your father. It sounds more to me like he was a real peach.
Hey Steph, I remember your dad. He was a sweet guy.
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