This is the third and final part of the memories written down by Emily Collins of her days in the Moberly area.
One of the happy memories for me are the times I was allowed to spend with Audrey Torrance as a child.
Sometimes my youngest sister, Margaret, was allowed to come and stay too.
I remember on one of those occasions when my young sister was with me at Torrance’s she walked into a nest of bees that lived in the ground.
She really got badly stung and Mrs. Torrance covered her with bluing, so we had a blue person wandering about that looked like someone from outer space.
Perhaps, if one of the beings from outer space had come to visit us (if there is such a being), they would have mistaken Margaret for one of themselves and taken her along with them.
Another time during haying time at Torrance’s while coming back from the hay shed, she fell through the empty hay rack, and was more sacred than hurt.
After that, no one visited with me to Audrey’s place.
There were a lot of fun times tobogganing in the coulee behind our house on the old homestead situated at the base of Moberly Peak.
I remember mother making French toast with strawberries that we all picked out in the woods on our place and she would whip canned milk and put something else in it that made that dish of berries and French toast and whipped topping taste real yummy.
We children all used to pick raspberries behind Hedberg’s place and Saskatoons on the Galstad Hill.
I remember on one occasion, we heard a bear some distance away and my oldest brother said we had better leave that area, since none of us wanted to tangle with it.
We promptly left at a fast pace and put considerable distance between Mr. Bear and ourselves.
Actually, we headed for home with what we managed to gather in raspberries.
If I remember correctly, my youngest brother and sister were too small to pick any berries except strawberries.
I was quite small at the time and it was all I could do to climb over logs and to keep the berries, this time it was Saskatoons, on Galstad’s Hill.
A very severe thunder and lightning storm hit while we picked and we all got drenched.
Luckily we had just finished picking since the buckets were just about full by the time the storm struck.
I do know some of the Bergenhams, especially Grandma Bergenham, who we used to visit.
I remember of one such visit she made us all waffles (and she made excellent waffles). They had a big table in the kitchen window.
She placed us all around the table and I remember I was directly under the window, seated at the table next to my brothers and sisters, when I noted Grandma Bergenham was chewing something and shortly thereafter it sprang out the window right over my head.
I started to giggle and the rest of the kids around the table joined in.
Yes, believe it or not, that was chewing tobacco.
Grandma Bergenham was a jolly person and no doubt was loved by many folk.
I know I loved her and she was one in a million.
God rest her kind soul.
Jean Bergenham (Blaine) and I used to chum around in Vancouver.
To get back to my days in Moberly: When I was a tot of three or four years of age, I’m told I was a perfect little brat and very stubborn.
Anyway, on this particular day, my two oldest brothers and my oldest sister were out cutting brush to clear a field.
I apparently kept getting in the way and my sister kept lifting me out of the way.
Well, I wasn’t going to be left out of anything and I got behind my sister who was using a double-bitted axe, well wham, I got the axe chop, right proper, as it cut my head open as she swung the axe over her head and I was right behind her.
They, and I don’t know which of the two brothers, accompanied my sister to carry me into the house.
They set me inside and announced “she got hurt” and then they took off in great haste from what mother told me.
Mother promptly fainted and dad took care of the situation.
I still have the scar to show for it.