Often on those sunny delightful, come-on-out-and-enjoy days, several of us, after a hurried noon meal, would hike off down the lane, over the fence and into the swampy flat-lands along the river. We would go on and on until we came to Cedar Swamp. Here, we would listen and look and sniff and drink in as much of Nature's bounty as we could -- the singing of the birds, the croaking frogs, and in the Spring, the Marsh Marigolds and the ferns and water cress. This would take most of the afternoon. Then we had to get home for supper.

We had many places where we could wander. There was that "no name" stream that meandered through our pasture, when it was not too dry to be called a stream. In the early spring, after sugar-making, our own bush made a beautiful place to be among the wild flowers and budding trees. Again in the early summer, the wild raspberries beckoned us to come, pick and taste, if the mosquitoes would let us.

I remember on one of these picnic trips to Springbank, no sooner had we arrived and tied up the team than a heavy thunder storm broke loose. It was a heavy one. We were fortunate that we had this shelter to eat under. However, the storm did not last long and when the sun came out to cheer us, we were able to have quite a nice time after all.

In the years to come, when the surrey was replaced by our Ford touring car, we still found this the best of all picnic spots. But there were other places, too, that we could get to more easily now with the faster means of travel. There was the shore of Lake Huron, Ipperwash Beach, Kettle Point, Port Franks, all pleasant retreats for a hot Sunday afternoon.

I do not recall any gifted musicians in our family, but we were all very fond of "good" music. In the parlour along with several rocking chairs, which were seldom rocked in except on Sundays, was a parlour organ, or Harmonium. I believe that this was a part of Ma's inheritance from "down home". I remember seeing Mama sitting on the organ stool pumping and playing some old familiar hymn, while Pa accompanied her either on his mouth organ or his Mandolin. (It is said that he got this mandolin for selling magazine subscriptions.) We children would sit around and listen and admire. For various reasons, it was decided to trade in this pump-organ for a piano. Then, maybe some other members of the family would be able to take lessons. It turned out to be a beautiful piano. Our cousin Velda, who bad taken a number of lessons, offered to teach us kids at least some of the elements of piano playing. Well, we did learn some. As a result my three brothers and my sister learned enough music to be able to enjoy themselves. I don't know why I failed, but I did.