With thoughts of spring around the corner!

WATER: At Pleasure Valley Farm, it was a significant part of everyday life – whether to drink, for cooking and washing, or for activities in the river or in the lake.

The Penetangore River ran westward between the barnyard and the tobogganing hills, flowing among small stones until it became rapids sliding down over the limestone shelves to the fishing holes.

Spring rains and snowmelt turned it into a roaring torrent that crept into the barnyard and eventually rushed down under the crooked bridge heading for the lake. In the summer, there was barely enough water for the cows to have a drink on their way to the stable at milking time.

Once the spring floods receded, the river provided great excitement. That was when the suckers came up the river and fishing began in earnest. We knew it was almost time when we saw Daddy testing the long pole and crossbows, then checking to be sure that critters had not chewed any holes in the big net during the winter.

Perhaps the smell of spring told him when to drop the net into the favourite hole on the north side of the river. We kids were eager to heave rocks into the water above and below the hole, steering the fish into range of the net.

Suddenly, Daddy’s body would tense and his strong arms would lift the net high over his head and flip a mass of wriggling silvery fish onto the bank. The challenge for the young folks was to snag a flopping fish and get it into a grain bag.

It was especially exciting to watch Daddy, standing on the rapids with the water churning against his rubber boots. He would reach down carefully and, in a few seconds, his hand would come up with a fish and throw it onto the bank. People came from far and wide to be part of the fun. I remember the day Bill Elliott, a slight teenager, went home in a large pair of Daddy’s overalls after a dunking.



Dale (left) and Koleen Hollands, Carol and Mary Elliott, sister Gail, and Ruth Anne in behind

Above, is evidence of a good morning’s catch. We cousins are prepared for the next step. Cleaning the fish was not our favourite job but we had fun playing with the “floats” in the water trough.

Neither were we excited about fish for dinner because the bones were small and hard to avoid. In our minds, a better meal was made from a sealer of canned fish turned into a loaf or patties.

With thoughts of spring around the corner,
Ruth Anne Hollands Robinson