I seem to have a habit of drifting off into a comparison of the way things were in the past to what they are like today. Hard not to when you've been around for as long as I have.

There is a lot of talk these days about organic grown fruit and veggies, as well as meat, and one is paying dearly for such produce. The trend to organic food (and even organic cosmetic products) is like a lot of other things these days, - blown entirely out of proportion.

I believe that ordinarily grown produce, handled by a registered organized shipper, is probably safer than some other sources because they are controlled to a greater extent by inspectors.

It is a complex subject and my reason for discussing it is to give some idea of what took place in the early years of the last century regarding spraying.

Lime sulfur and a light type of oil was the main dormant spray used, - one that I found was applied as much on the operator as on the aphids and the mildew that it was meant to control. The operator and the surrounding countryside were redolent of rotten eggs! These early season sprays had no carry over to the produce that was sold to the consumer.



Eventually the coddling moth found its way into the Okanagan Valley and this scourge caused all kinds of trouble for the next seventy-five years.

As a prime example of one chemical that was first used for this type of pest consider Arsenic of Lead. This chemical left a residue on the fruit that had to be washed off in the packing houses before it could be shipped out to the consumer. This was done under strict supervision by government inspectors even in those early years, so there was no threat to the consumer.

However, grass that the livestock ate in the orchards caused them to become sick with lead poisoning. We used nose bags made of screenings so they couldn't graze when they were hauling the sprayer in the orchard. My father did eventually develop some small patches of skin cancer on his face.

In my own case it was a matter of being young and foolish. I was about twelve years old and it was August, which was pear picking time. It was a boring job and it was hot. The pears had to be two and one quarter inches in diameter and one grew weary. For a break I took some of the smaller pears growing in the center of the tree, wiped them off roughly on my jeans, took a couple of bites and then threw them away. Eventually I began to feel ill and went back to the house, but Mother was away someplace so I ended up lying on the ground, being extremely sick for some considerable time. This experience has stayed with me all these years because I remember wishing I could die... Being so violently sick probably saved my life.

Arsenic of Lead was one chemical that was used in paints and was eventually banned.

Other sprays were developed, such as Creolite and Guthion , but in all cases the washing process was strictly carried out in the packing houses and residue tests enforced by government inspectors.

In the last years of the 40's I did custom spraying and I was always very careful about the amount of chemical used. I might also add that I never used a spray mask in all the years that I did this type of work, mainly because they made it very difficult to breath.



Nowadays I see what appears to be men from Mars suited up in space suits, driving the tractors which haul spray machine.

The other afternoon I was party to a conversation between two fruit growers about organic growers and the regulations which are apparently being imposed on this venture. Apparently a lady had arrived in the Similkameen Valley from down East and was laying out all the new regulations regarding the growing, handling and selling of organic produce. One of the regulations I found most ridiculous was that the farm worker must wash his hands before continuing work if he smoked a cigarette on his break.

It would almost seem that it's time for the invention of a pill that we can all take to provide us with the needed nutriments to keep us alive and free from any contamination. I cannot help but think of the thousands of lives lost to Malaria in the equator regions of the world as a result of the banning of D.D.T.

I have a feeling that the new push for organic grown food will prove to be very expensive, not any safer than it was before, and a great opportunity to charge more for produce by taking advantage of the fear of contamination.

Here I am, back again!

It seems impossible that the last ten weeks have disappeared and I have not written here, but it has, and the only excuse I have is to say I 'was under the weather'..

Hildred and I seldom get sick, but we both came down with some kind of flu at the same time; she with a bad sinus cold and I with some kind of chest infection. I surprised myself, after taking a look at her and seeing the concern in her eyes, by suggesting I should go to Emergency.

Never having experienced this type of procedure before I was amazed at the number of family members who appeared on the scene.

In any case, my oxygen level went from 88 to 96 in a couple of days and I was home again twenty-five pounds lighter, feeling pretty good and with a greater respect for our health care system.

Hildred took a while longer to come back to normal but we are gardening again with a vengeance and giving TLC to the curly willows.

What kept a Kid Busy in the 1930's
And other comments

Well, it's hard to keep things in their proper chronological order when one starts looking back so many years, and for the type of person who has never written much beyond his own name, it's a chore!!

However, as youngsters we had it really good with the sling shots - "zipzips" - our name for the weapon of David and Goliath fame.

Here, in a painting by Lorie Corbus, you can see what a serious business this was.



Along with 22's and 12 gauge shotguns, when we reached the age of responsibility.

This was serious business too, and we had impressed upon us by our parents (usually Fathers) of the consequences of misuse. This meant thinking where the missile that you were launching would end up, after it had hit the target - or NOT, which was quite often the case. Along with the sport of using firearms we kept in mind the damage that they could cause.

The necessity of putting down an animal that was badly injured or sick was something that one might not enjoy, but which must be done in an humane way.

These were some of the things that our generation had to learn and remember, - and as they would be today our mothers were always concerned about this type of education.

Our days were spent outdoors, but in the evenings we listened to the radio. We did have a fairly good radio and I can remember listening to Tarzan of the Apes and One Man's Family, it seemed like every night.

There were some special programs, like H.G. Wells' broadcast of "War of the Worlds". There have been many people who have been critical of people who were terrified when they heard this radio broadcast about the invasion of aliens from Mars, but the usual expression applies - "Buddy, if you weren't there hold your tongue".




If I remember correctly there were three major stations carrying the story, and each one broadcast disclaimers quite frequently. But as you turned from one station to another, seeking the truth, you would miss the disclaimers.

In this day and age when the knowledge of the universe has become so much more advanced it seems that those who were so alarmed some 70 odd years ago were somewhat foolish, but stop and think of the number of people who believe we are alone in this Universe. I have only one comment. Research has told us that the big beautiful solar system reaches out for billions of light years, and to think that in that vast space this speck of dust that we call earth holds the only intelligence is, IMHO, a complete no brainer.

As I journey back in my mind to those years of growing up, and the pals with whom I spent the days hiking the hills, fishing and swimming, and all the other things country boys were able to do, stories come flooding back. But I will save them for another posting.....

Musical Memories

Mother had a great love of music, and she had her own violin which she played by ear. She had no formal education in music but she was determined that her children would have this privilege.

This meant scraping together enough money for a piano (a lovely old square grand) and the dollar every two weeks for the piano lessons for me and my sister.



At the time it seemed a terrible bore to have to practice every day, but I often thanked my mother in later years for her foresight. The ability to read music is a very fulfilling part of one's life.

I remember the first piano recital I participated in.... I think my sister and I played a duet, and as I recall it was quite an experience.

It was a later recital of much more sophistication involving costumes and make-up where I was a soldier and played Marche Militaire. Marches at that time were my favourite genre.



Not too long after the first recital I was prevailed upon by our school music teacher to play a selection in front of my classmates. I remember freezing solid! I could not move my fingers or speak a word. The teacher recognized my stage fright and talked me out of it, quietly and gently. This experience stayed with me, and gave me confidence in later years.

The same teacher encouraged me to play double B bass in the High School Band. Many of the boys who played in this school band also played in the Penticton City Band after the war, but the ranks were thinner because of the war. Because of being strong and hefty I was chosen to play the Sousaphone, - a feat in this marching Band.

We also had a girl's Glee Club at school and they and the school band performed at a music festival and were adjudicated by Sir Ernest MacMillan, receiving very favourable results.

Our music teacher was a clever man, and he introduced a lot of us to a much fuller musical experience, and this in turn enriched the years that followed.

My own career as a pianist probably reached its peak as a result of playing by ear the pieces I heard on my cousin's player piano, - Alexander's Ragtime Band, You Made me Love You, The Dark Town Strutter's Ball, and many other pieces popular in the first part of the 20th century. My sister was much more accomplished and plays a great repertoire to this day.

During my time in the Airforce I found there were many good musicians, - some of them really excellent. Amongst the best was Nolan Henderson, a fighter pilot whom I
met on my way home from Overseas. During leaves in Britain he would often play his violin on the BBC. On the train coming West across Canada, he stood and played wonderful wild Hungarian Dances.

We both embarked the train in Edmonton, - I to be married and he to return to his home there. We had become friends quickly, and as I had none of my old friends within easy distance (most of them being still Overseas) I was glad when he agreed to be my Best man at our wedding.

When we first moved to the farm in Cawston a friend made us a gigantic set of speakers that we could set up facing the open windows of the house and broadcast marvelous records throughout the orchard while we worked. The speakers are now installed in the rafters of the garage, and the same music accompanies me as I fiddle about there!

And I am playing the part of a baritone in a senior's 'choir' where the members love to sing.



Music has spread in both our family, and my sister's, with the playing of fiddle, guitar, piano, clarinet, banjo and drums. The children and grandchildren have introduced us to contemporary music, but my favourites are still the music which was familiar to me when I was young, the music of the Forties, the music of Andre Rieu and Nana Mouskouri, Scott Joplin, Military Bands, Truckers tunes and Country.

And I hear a lot of hymns being practised which usually please my ear....

Here is a picture of one of the new generation of pianists.....



..and one of the old gaffer

I read in the papers and see on the television concerns over what seems like an increase in bullying. And I remember my own experiences in my first year at school.

For some reason I was sent to stay with friends of my parents who lived in town, very close to an area where there were several large families who were inclined to be rough and tough. Because I came to school on the bus I was considered to be a 'sissy', - and perhaps I was. Country living is different from town living, especially in those days.

I remember being afraid to go to school, and getting very little sympathy outside of being able to stick up for yourself. There was an older boy named Craig Coldren who lived right across the street from the people I was staying with, and I latched on to him every morning. Needs must (when the devil drives). I was grateful he was there, but I never saw him again after he left school and I think he was killed during the war.

I eventually gained confidence and became friends with the other boys. Eventually I grew into a good sized lad, and I can remember when I stepped in to stop some cases of bullying, mostly by talking.

I should mention the fact that in those days any one caught fighting on the school grounds ended up with five of the best on each hand. It also might be worth mentioning that the instrument of application was about thirty inches long by two inches wide by one quarter inch thick!!!



I have 'borrowed' this picture from the web, - it was a ferocious instrument, but a deterrent, - and it caused boys to duck behind the stone walls that fronted the school yard when there was any fighting going on....

I came across an old newspaper dated in the early forties, and it had a story in it about justice at that time. Four young lads who had badly abused a girl in the same age bracket were convicted and sentenced to three years with alternate lash and paddle during the time of their sentence.

I knew one of these fellows in later years and believe me, he never broke any laws during the rest of his life.

A hard way to teach the effects of lawlessness, but we were never then in the mess we are now, and I lay blame on the liberalness of the courts in their treatment of criminals....

One of the things I remember as a child in the thirties was being sick with the various ailments that all children seem to suffer with, - measles, mumps, chicken-pox, and the more serious ones like scarlet fever, small pox and infantile paralysis (as it was called in those days).

We managed to avoid polio during childhood, but when I was in my mid twenties I was stricken with it, and although I was fortunate and recovered with no lasting disability through my life, now, as I age, I am afflicted with 'polio syndrome' where the nerves have died after being damaged by the disease, and the healthy nerves left have deteriorated from doing double duty for those that had been destroyed.

Health care in those early days relied mainly upon the ability of the women of the family, and my mother was a diligent and kind nurse.

Small Pox was one of the worst diseases for scarring, - it was sometimes fatal, and it was very contagious. There was a recommended vaccination, but I believe it was still not totally effective. My Brother, Tom, had a paper route in Penticton, and one of his deliveries was to a customer who had the Pox. Tom probably carried the disease home through money exchange and my sister Nonie and I contracted small pox and ended up with wool socks on our hands so we wouldn't scratch and have the ugly telltale face shell scarring. My mother cared for us meticulously throughout this time, and I have only one small pock mark which over the years has faded and disappeared.

We were quarantined for some weeks, and supplies had to be delivered to our property line. When the disease had run its course the house was fumigated with open topped coffee tins containing a sulfur like substance which burned for days.

Besides these childhood ailments I was inclined to be Croupy, and this condition I disliked with a passion. The only relief from the choking that I remember was a teaspoon of brown sugar, well soaked with kerosene. In later years my experience with Croup stood me in good stead when some of our own children would awaken in the night, panicking, coughing and unable to breath. It is most frightening for parents who are not familiar with Croup, but I could calm them until a tent of steam relieved the condition.

As a kindness, we didn't ever administer brown sugar and kerosene......

Buffalo Bill Cody

The other day, while surfing the TV, I came across a play about Bill Cody and his Wild West Show, - a popular event in the early part of the last century.

Memories came flooding back about stories my mother told us about this Show that she had seen in Toronto in the early teens. Buffalo Bill Cody's Wild West Show.



It included real Indians and Cowboys riding and roping, but what impressed my mother most was the extraordinary marksmanship of Annie Oakley.



What made the story even more interesting that one of mother's Irish relatives was related to Bill Cody, in a round about manner. I became good friends with my distant cousins, Lyle and Verne Cody.

Another story mother told us was undoubtedly true. She was born into a large family of Irish Catholics by the name of O'Callaghan, in Downeyville, Ontario.

They were farmers and had livestock, including a Jersey bull with a set of very sharp horns. A bad combination, - Jersey bulls are not noted for a gentle disposition.

My grandfather, William O'Callaghan,



got into a fracas with this Jersey bull.

He was knocked to the ground and gored. Fortunately the bull had been fitted with a nose ring and Bill got his fingers into the ring, holding the animal at bay while he whistled for his stock dog who drove the bull away.

Mother's first husband died of the Spanish Flu in the terrible epidemic of 1918. She was left with two young children, Hazel and Tom, so when her parents decided to move West to Vancouver she came with them.

Her father, Bill, found work as a teamster in the Vancouver train yards, but was killed shortly after when a switch engine struck his loaded freight wagon.

Mother moved to Penticton with her children to keep house for my father, who had also lost his first wife, Violet, and was orcharding on the Penticton benches. Their eventual marriage produced three more children, - my older brother, Gordon, myself and my sister Wenonah.

Which sets the stage for a a ton of 'growing up' tales and memories.....