Black Creek

To paraphrase A River Runs Through It, there could have been no better place to live than the Black Creek of my youth. A dairy farm near the end of Endall road was the best place to grow up. Stuart Mclean could have made his career writing about it. Every family was it's own collection of characters. A farming community is usually close knit, but there was something special about Endall in the eighties. It could also be the wagon wheels clouding my memory. The Offersons used to give us wagon wheels when we came over, but only once we got into the house for coffee. As kids we were too polite to ask for them right away, and there was usually farming business to be discussed. Once that was done, we would start to walk toward the house. Anticipation would build, and then Mr Offerson would wink at my dad. He always seemed to have a cow to check on, that was just remembered as he was getting close to the box of marshmallow and chocolaty goodness. I don't remember the winks, but I do remember the agony of being so close, then having to walk to the barns again. Dad tells me that Mr Offerson would be laughing heartily at our agony of wanting the treat, but knowing we could not ask. There are a lot of stories like that. Lots of laughing, visiting and good times around the hard work of trying to make a living on a dairy farm. It helps that I don't remember the bills or the stress of the emergencies. When the cows got out, it was kinda of fun. Though cows escaping at 3am is never a good time.
This last weekend a vital part of that past community was in town for a visit. Drew and Joanne Gailius were here. Drew was the mechanic, and all around saviour during silage/hay time. Joanne was the physio, so while Drew kept the machines running, she kept us running.They currently have a farm near Creston BC, Full Circle Farm. I always thought Joanne should write a book, as she seemed to always see farmers doing the craziest things. Their current farm grows grains, meat, and a lot of other things. Apparently you can even buy shares in the farm, which entitles you to around a hundred pounds of grains and I am not sure what else. If you are into seed saving, organic food, it would be a something to check out. The difficulty would be driving to Creston to pick it up every year. It's something Niki and I might have to do though. Somebody has to go and reorganize the tools in Drews shop. No shop should be that organized. I used to have fun 'reorganizing' his shop, and seeing how long until Drew noticed. It was very good to see them again, I had almost forgotten how much Joanne laughed, and we are looking forward to the next visit.
I could probably spend all day writing Black Creek stories. Just writing about fun times at the Foxes could take a day. If you have some good stories, feel free to share them.
The middle picture is from a neighbourhood party, circa 1984, and Mr Offerson is the man in the middle. It bugs me when kids refer to adults by their first names, when they do that I know 'They wasn't raised proper'. I know I am no longer young, but Henning Offerson passed when I was, so I don't think I will ever be able to refer to him as anything but Mr Offerson.
The bottom picture is our old farm. It's nice to see the Cedar tree is still in 'the cedar tree field'.
Cheers,
Scott