Always helping and not afraid of tears! How could you be with 4 girls under 6!
I could hear the car pull up beside the house and within minutes the squeaky screen door along with footsteps let me know my Dad was home. I ran out to the kitchen to greet him, he had just returned from one of his frequent Sunday trips to the small countryside village in which he was born. His brother and several other assorted relatives still lived there on farms but in order to keep my mother happy we lived in town and my father became a weekend farmer.
He sat as he always did in his chair at the end of the kitchen table and took off his shoes. My mother and sister came into the kitchen to hear my Dad speak of the events of the day and how nice it was to drive on Sundays when there was such little traffic. He reminisced about when he was a boy ( which to me seemed so long ago there were probably dinosaurs around at that time) that he used to walk the 7 miles from his village to town and my how things had changed!!
I sat there on the brown wooden chair with my eight year old legs dangling and listened to all the commotion of my sisters trying to tell on each other and my mother saying what time dinner would be and that my Grandfather would be here any minute now. Why she bothered to tell him, I don't know because for as long as I could remember Sunday dinner was at 6 o'clock, we ate roast beef and my Grandpa arrived at 5:45 and left by 7:15
These were the cornerstones of our reality at 27 Birmingham St. where we had a big M on the front door that some of my sisters said stood for May (our last name) while other more ambitious ones said it stood for money.
With 3 older sisters, all who thought they knew it all there was never any shortage of opinions. My sisters were all about 14 months apart and then there was a 3 year gap before I was born. Being the youngest had it good and bad points, some say I got more attention (whatever that means) but as far as I could tell being the youngest was mostly problematic for me. The only way I could possibly endure the presence of my three older sisters and all the hand-me-down clothes was knowing that one day they would all grow up before me and I would be able to play with their toys and have my own room. It was a thin thread to hang on to yet I needed something to keep me sane when they got to do things I couldn't because I was too young. Occasionally I would get my triumph over being too young and today was one of those days.
My father announced that there had been a bumper crop of turnips and one of his friends had given him a whole field of turnips and did Shirley ( my older sister of 12) want to sell them door to door? She could keep all the money he said. Immediately I felt my jealousy rising but Shirley spoke first ( she always did being older, bigger and louder..) Daaaaaaaaaaaadd!! THATS WIERD! I am NOT going to sell some creepy turnips!!!( what my Dad failed to realize is that being 12 in 1967 meant selling turnips or even getting close to any vegetable was NOT was cool people did) Ah hah!! Here was my chance!! Dad ! Dad! I'll do it!! (being 8 in 1967 meant not even having a concept of cool..) No No was the automatic response. Ok I will step up the pressure which to be heard over 5 others I was well experienced at. PLLEEEASSSSSSSSSE I want to I'm NOT too young! Pleeaaaassssssssssssse. At this point my father gave in. Possibly because Shirley was now on the phone, Nancy the next possibility was too shy and had disappeared at the mere thought and Carolyn the oldest was already busy building her empire through her 50 cent an hour babysitting job and was booked solid for the next 2 years.
Ok we would start tomorrow at 4pm after school and before people had their dinner. You see growing up in Guelph meant you knew everyone had their dinner sometime between 5 and 7 pm and no decent person would dare go visiting during these sacred hours which were a given in the same vein Sunday morning was for church.
The next day I could barely contain my excitement and skipped to school and played hopscotch and jumping with more enthusiasm than usual and was the first out the door of St. Stanislaus school at 3:45 pm. I ran home in 5 minutes. My Dad was waiting with our 64 Chevy loaded up with one trunkful of turnips. Our compromise was that because I was too young he would come with me and I readily agreed because I knew I had won so I was willing to accept the terms. Our first stop was Millie's our next door neighbor. I ran out with 2 turnips in my arms. (We had already determined that the price was 10 cents a turnip. I don't know if that was the true value of a 1967 turnip or if it was just an easy number to multiply by.) Anyhow I banged frantically on the door. Millie do you want to buy some turnips? I could hear her getting closer to the door. Millie I 've got turnips and they are 10 cents each Milllleeeeeeee By the time she got to the door she was thoroughly convinced and the proud owner of 2 new turnips!! Yipee!! I jumped in the air lighter than ever!! Thanks! I said as the 2 round coins were put into my hands. Running back to the car I let my Dad keep track of the dimes.
Door after door we knocked on for the next hour slowly moving up and down the streets around Birmingham St. Essex St. Glasgow St. Yorkshire St, we went to my cousins house, the Reballati's (they bought 6) We went to the altar boys house and then went way past Glenda Stienfield's place to a street where I had never been and I ran to the door with my usual line of " Do you want to buy some turnips?". After all the smooth sailing I was not prepared for the response I got.
Turnips... a thickly accented voice gruffed at me.... Whats turnips?? For once I was silent. Here was a grownup who was supposed to know EVERYTHING and he was asking me what a turnip was?? Even today I am hard pressed to explain a turnip but then it had not even occurred to me that I might have to. Ummmm.. welll...its a turnip.....and its....uh..... 10 cents. Pretty soon the whole family was at the door carefully examining and turning over the mystery. Then I saw Helena in the background a girl from grade 6 and I remember she was Greek yet it never occurred to me that turnips may not be an international vegetable. A whole new world of thoughts were racing around my brain. " Ok we'll take 4" I was snapped back to reality. 4? Wow!!! What a decision!! Most people who knew what turnips were only took 2 or 3..but 4? Now I wondered where I could find more of these consumers I too could have a turnip empire. Perhaps move to Greece, start the May Turnip Farm...Uh OH... had to run back to the car a 2nd time, I could only carry 2 turnips at a time. I shouted out to my Dad " DAAAAAD they bought 4 and they don't know nuthin about turnips and then still they bought 4!!! Well by now it was 5 o'clock and time to go home and count the cash...Clink Clink Clink ......$2.00!! 20 dimes!!! That was the most money I had ever earned in my life!! I piled them up into 2 piles then into 4 piles. I counted and recounted them and put them on top of the TV for safe keeping. Announcing these are MY dimes and NO ONE touch them!! The TV seemed like such a safe place because of the honored position it held in the center of the living room.
All week we continued our routine of slowly moving our 64 Chevy up and down the streets of Guelph until 80 turnips were sold in all and I had 8 little piles of $1.00 or 16 little piles of 50 cents depending on how I arranged it.
My new found wealth had not come without desires as is in inevitable with most upwardly mobile folks I guess.
I converted my coinage into 4 pink 2 dollar bills then dutifully followed the saving rule by putting half in the bank account I had had since I was 4 and now I could freely spend the other. I had all week to dream about the lego I wanted to buy so I could build houses with real windows and doors
The following morning my Dad and I set out for the department store and we headed straight to the toy section. I felt anticipation and excitement equal to that of any Christmas. We scanned the aisles and carefully studied all the different sets of Lego and finally came up with the one that was just right. I stuck my hand in my pocket and gently stroked those 2 crispy bills again. Then we headed towards the cashier. I reached up and put my box on the counter and watched wide-eyed as she rang up the sale. She said that comes to $3.99. I reached into my pocket for the millionth time for those bills but at the same time my fathers hand found its way to the counter and outstretched he handed the clerk the money. I looked at him in shock and froze not quite understanding. He said it's ok, you earned it. Just don't tell your mom or sisters. You can keep all the money.
Not only was I richer in money and a new toy and the neighborhood richer in turnips but I realized how much richer I truly was in having a father like mine.
He sat as he always did in his chair at the end of the kitchen table and took off his shoes. My mother and sister came into the kitchen to hear my Dad speak of the events of the day and how nice it was to drive on Sundays when there was such little traffic. He reminisced about when he was a boy ( which to me seemed so long ago there were probably dinosaurs around at that time) that he used to walk the 7 miles from his village to town and my how things had changed!!
I sat there on the brown wooden chair with my eight year old legs dangling and listened to all the commotion of my sisters trying to tell on each other and my mother saying what time dinner would be and that my Grandfather would be here any minute now. Why she bothered to tell him, I don't know because for as long as I could remember Sunday dinner was at 6 o'clock, we ate roast beef and my Grandpa arrived at 5:45 and left by 7:15
These were the cornerstones of our reality at 27 Birmingham St. where we had a big M on the front door that some of my sisters said stood for May (our last name) while other more ambitious ones said it stood for money.
With 3 older sisters, all who thought they knew it all there was never any shortage of opinions. My sisters were all about 14 months apart and then there was a 3 year gap before I was born. Being the youngest had it good and bad points, some say I got more attention (whatever that means) but as far as I could tell being the youngest was mostly problematic for me. The only way I could possibly endure the presence of my three older sisters and all the hand-me-down clothes was knowing that one day they would all grow up before me and I would be able to play with their toys and have my own room. It was a thin thread to hang on to yet I needed something to keep me sane when they got to do things I couldn't because I was too young. Occasionally I would get my triumph over being too young and today was one of those days.
My father announced that there had been a bumper crop of turnips and one of his friends had given him a whole field of turnips and did Shirley ( my older sister of 12) want to sell them door to door? She could keep all the money he said. Immediately I felt my jealousy rising but Shirley spoke first ( she always did being older, bigger and louder..) Daaaaaaaaaaaadd!! THATS WIERD! I am NOT going to sell some creepy turnips!!!( what my Dad failed to realize is that being 12 in 1967 meant selling turnips or even getting close to any vegetable was NOT was cool people did) Ah hah!! Here was my chance!! Dad ! Dad! I'll do it!! (being 8 in 1967 meant not even having a concept of cool..) No No was the automatic response. Ok I will step up the pressure which to be heard over 5 others I was well experienced at. PLLEEEASSSSSSSSSE I want to I'm NOT too young! Pleeaaaassssssssssssse. At this point my father gave in. Possibly because Shirley was now on the phone, Nancy the next possibility was too shy and had disappeared at the mere thought and Carolyn the oldest was already busy building her empire through her 50 cent an hour babysitting job and was booked solid for the next 2 years.
Ok we would start tomorrow at 4pm after school and before people had their dinner. You see growing up in Guelph meant you knew everyone had their dinner sometime between 5 and 7 pm and no decent person would dare go visiting during these sacred hours which were a given in the same vein Sunday morning was for church.
The next day I could barely contain my excitement and skipped to school and played hopscotch and jumping with more enthusiasm than usual and was the first out the door of St. Stanislaus school at 3:45 pm. I ran home in 5 minutes. My Dad was waiting with our 64 Chevy loaded up with one trunkful of turnips. Our compromise was that because I was too young he would come with me and I readily agreed because I knew I had won so I was willing to accept the terms. Our first stop was Millie's our next door neighbor. I ran out with 2 turnips in my arms. (We had already determined that the price was 10 cents a turnip. I don't know if that was the true value of a 1967 turnip or if it was just an easy number to multiply by.) Anyhow I banged frantically on the door. Millie do you want to buy some turnips? I could hear her getting closer to the door. Millie I 've got turnips and they are 10 cents each Milllleeeeeeee By the time she got to the door she was thoroughly convinced and the proud owner of 2 new turnips!! Yipee!! I jumped in the air lighter than ever!! Thanks! I said as the 2 round coins were put into my hands. Running back to the car I let my Dad keep track of the dimes.
Door after door we knocked on for the next hour slowly moving up and down the streets around Birmingham St. Essex St. Glasgow St. Yorkshire St, we went to my cousins house, the Reballati's (they bought 6) We went to the altar boys house and then went way past Glenda Stienfield's place to a street where I had never been and I ran to the door with my usual line of " Do you want to buy some turnips?". After all the smooth sailing I was not prepared for the response I got.
Turnips... a thickly accented voice gruffed at me.... Whats turnips?? For once I was silent. Here was a grownup who was supposed to know EVERYTHING and he was asking me what a turnip was?? Even today I am hard pressed to explain a turnip but then it had not even occurred to me that I might have to. Ummmm.. welll...its a turnip.....and its....uh..... 10 cents. Pretty soon the whole family was at the door carefully examining and turning over the mystery. Then I saw Helena in the background a girl from grade 6 and I remember she was Greek yet it never occurred to me that turnips may not be an international vegetable. A whole new world of thoughts were racing around my brain. " Ok we'll take 4" I was snapped back to reality. 4? Wow!!! What a decision!! Most people who knew what turnips were only took 2 or 3..but 4? Now I wondered where I could find more of these consumers I too could have a turnip empire. Perhaps move to Greece, start the May Turnip Farm...Uh OH... had to run back to the car a 2nd time, I could only carry 2 turnips at a time. I shouted out to my Dad " DAAAAAD they bought 4 and they don't know nuthin about turnips and then still they bought 4!!! Well by now it was 5 o'clock and time to go home and count the cash...Clink Clink Clink ......$2.00!! 20 dimes!!! That was the most money I had ever earned in my life!! I piled them up into 2 piles then into 4 piles. I counted and recounted them and put them on top of the TV for safe keeping. Announcing these are MY dimes and NO ONE touch them!! The TV seemed like such a safe place because of the honored position it held in the center of the living room.
All week we continued our routine of slowly moving our 64 Chevy up and down the streets of Guelph until 80 turnips were sold in all and I had 8 little piles of $1.00 or 16 little piles of 50 cents depending on how I arranged it.
My new found wealth had not come without desires as is in inevitable with most upwardly mobile folks I guess.
I converted my coinage into 4 pink 2 dollar bills then dutifully followed the saving rule by putting half in the bank account I had had since I was 4 and now I could freely spend the other. I had all week to dream about the lego I wanted to buy so I could build houses with real windows and doors
The following morning my Dad and I set out for the department store and we headed straight to the toy section. I felt anticipation and excitement equal to that of any Christmas. We scanned the aisles and carefully studied all the different sets of Lego and finally came up with the one that was just right. I stuck my hand in my pocket and gently stroked those 2 crispy bills again. Then we headed towards the cashier. I reached up and put my box on the counter and watched wide-eyed as she rang up the sale. She said that comes to $3.99. I reached into my pocket for the millionth time for those bills but at the same time my fathers hand found its way to the counter and outstretched he handed the clerk the money. I looked at him in shock and froze not quite understanding. He said it's ok, you earned it. Just don't tell your mom or sisters. You can keep all the money.
Not only was I richer in money and a new toy and the neighborhood richer in turnips but I realized how much richer I truly was in having a father like mine.
