Archive | March, 2015

Are you there God? It’s Me, Emilie. Part 2

5 Mar

As yesterdays post explained I have been reading through old journals of mine and getting a large kick out of the stuff I wrote.  Here is another favorite.


My mother is a retired nurse and for much of my childhood she worked shift work.  This meant that she worked some weekends.  Due to her schedule Dad was left to man the ship.  One time my little niece Cora was having a tender moment with my brother when she said ‘Daddy, I love you.’  He was flattered and said ‘Oh Cora, I love you too.’  A moment later she said ‘But I definitely love Mommy more.’  You know Mom’s just do things right when you are a kid!  She made cinnamon toast, tuna delights and she was way better at rubbing your back when you were barfing.  So this entry from my journal came on a weekend when Mom was working, I was apparently bored out of my skull and I wanted something to do.  It makes me realize how crazy different life is for kids now.  


Saturday May 23rd, 1991 (I was 11)

Mom is working days this weekend.  Chris and Stephen are working at Jimmy’s and David is away at a tournament. Dad was planting the garden most of the day and the dog was with him. (insert – in most of my entries I started off with saying what everyone else in my house was doing).

I got up this morning at 8:15.  The boys left a bunch of dishes (of course) on the table so I cleaned those up.  After that I watched TV for a little bit and went outside to see what Dad was doing.  He was planting potatoes. I didn’t want to do that so I only stayed there for a little bit.  I asked Dad if I could walk over to Grandma’s and he said I could.  (insert – Grandma’s house is a MILE away.  She had cable and Fudgeo’s; we didn’t have either of those things because they didn’t bring the cable lines out past her house and Mom baked everything from scratch).  I walked to Grandma’s and saw some people picking bottles in the ditch along the way.  Grandma asked me to do her hair when I got there and I also put the vibrating massager on her back.  I don’t like doing either but Grandma would tell me I am lazy if I didn’t do it.  One of the workers from Newfoundland came to the house looking for some money.  Grandma told him he already got his pay and said that he should think about what he does with his money because a pay is meant to last a week.  Dad picked me up.  We went to church in Maryvale at 7.  I was really hoping Sarah was going to be in church but she was at her Aunt Lynn’s in Guysborough (darn).  One of the Gerrior kids cried the entire mass.  Mom was home when we got back.  There is a hockey game on (boo) and of course Dad is watching it.  Now I am in bed.

End of entry


Are You There God? It’s Me, Emilie

4 Mar

I did some organizing about a month ago and found some of my old journals from when I was between the ages of 10 and 13. I’ve been home sick for 3 days so I have some extra time on my hands; I’ve been reading my entries and dying laughing.  As an adult I am not one for flowery emotions and drama – I am pretty practical and nonchalant.  It seems I was that way as a kid too. One of my favorite books growing up was ‘Are You There God? It’s Me Margaret’: a book that details the thoughts and emotions of a 6th grade girl.  Boys, bras, periods, family disputes and everyday emotions. I wasn’t so much like Margaret as I didn’t really ‘journal’ so much,  I more ‘documented’ the daily going ons in our house.

Below is one of the entries from my journal.  To give you a better understanding here a few additional details:

I grew up on a hobby farm.  We had a few horses, a few cows, pigs and some chickens.  We only had female cows.  If Dad wanted one of the heifers to get pregnant he would need to call Joe Van De Valk and ask him to come over when she was in heat. Joe Van De Valk is not a bull from a local farm, he is an Artificial Inseminator. Joe was somewhat deaf so he spoke in a not typical manner (which was great as I love to do impersonations of people and I can do a humdinger impersonation of Joe).  Once we got older we had a great nickname for him ‘The County Cow F*&cker’

Saturday, October 5th, 1991 (I was 11)

“Joe Van de Valk came over today. I woke Dad up because he was taking a nap when I saw his van pull in the driveway.  Dad and I went up to the barn.  When we got there Joe pulled out a catalogue with pictures of bulls in it.  He said ‘Jesus Christ Leonel I got some real nice stuff today.  That fella there (pointing at a picture of a bull from Ontario) he has some beauty calves.  Throws big ones.’  (insert – just like a modern day sperm bank Dad would choose the sperm from the most suitable bull).  Joe then put on a glove that went up to his arm pit.  After that he pulled a long rod from what looked like a bucket with dry ice in it.  He then took his arm with the rod in his hand and put it up the cows bum.  Ginger bawled.  After some poking and prodding he took his arm out.  The glove was full of hot steamy manure.  After Joe left Dad and I went into town and picked David up at basketball. When we got back it was lunchtime and Dad made us cream peas on toast (like he always does when Mom is working).’

End of entry.