 Well, we grew up on a farm, number one. In the summertime, we walked to school, about two miles, and in the wintertime was a different story. We were driven by my father with a sleigh box and a couple of horses leading, and my father would be all frosted over with his breathing. And so when he'd get us to school and we were safe, then he'd go back home and be there again in the afternoon to pick us up when school was finished. My mother was a city girl, so it was very difficult for her, too. And so she had mattresses made for the sleigh box, and we were all dress winter-like with quilts all around us, so we didn't get cold. Not like that today. It was a grade school, from grades one to eight. And then they built another room on for high school, where it went from eight to twelve. Was it just, would it have been two teachers between the two rooms? Yes. Otherwise, one teacher taught eight grades. Oh, yes. The news field, I'd send in an article every week, things that were going on in the community, and that wasn't when I was in the lower grade, so it was—well, I knew a lot of people, so—and stories got around, and mainly through the telephone. Would it be fair to say it was sort of like a gossip column, or— I would say that now, yes. The local paper was called the Tisdale Recorder. It's still going. It was just volunteer. Well, he was a volunteer, too, and he named the district and was well-known throughout. He was one of the—I guess they called him a trustee or something like that. He came to Canada as a late teenager, and then when Canada went to war, he joined the Canadian Army and went overseas, and where he was wounded almost immediately, as so many were—he was very fortunate, so many were killed, but he was badly wounded and was sent to a hospital in Scotland where he recovered, and his—he didn't really talk about the war, but we—he had holes all like he—in those days, there was no bath tubs, he—a sponge bath, and he had—his back was full of holes, and as children, we used to put our fingers in these holes, and he would just laugh, but never tell us what it was all about. Yes. The whole back was covered. He had fought Vimy. He never talked about that. My mother being from England and a city girl, she kept us away from the barns. She was afraid we'd get hurt, but the boys were allowed out there, but when the machinery came in later, I really enjoyed that—get on a tractor and be back and forth with the cultivator and the plows and everything. They didn't have freezers in those days, but in the wintertime, they put the vegetables and fruits in the basement where they were frozen all winter. There were times when they didn't have enough water to—which came from the rain. They never thought much about it. Were your grandparents—are your parents talking about it? Well, they were, but we didn't know anything about war. Canada, especially in the prairies, was nothing but land. You didn't see much, and we only had radio in those days. No television. Radio was quite interesting. There would be people on there that liked to talk, a lot of entertainment, music, especially western, and there was country dances that we all loved to go to. My husband was really a good dancer. Their parents taught them to dance. Dads, Russian, German, family—they were all good dancers, and they did that Russian dance. They were quite musical as well, so they played the accordion, and so they were really like to have a good time. Was that the school, wasn't it, Mom? Yes. That's where they had all the dances was in the schoolhouse. Well, if you were phoning someone in another province, you'd try not to talk too long because you were sent a bill. But that's the only way they could communicate, apart from writing letters, and everyone wrote letters. I don't know if you've seen the old phones. They were made of wood with a dialing system, and you'd ring like—if you were phoning someone—two, twenty-three or something, well, you'd two rings, and then three. Separate the calls. Well, if the line was busy, you had to wait until that line cleared. You'd hear them talking. Yeah. Mainly going to the top of the hay, it was piled in there, and then sliding down. That's just childish things. There was no skiing or anything in our family. The way we were all dressed in that picture, it was either made by me or I'd go to sales. My mother was trained in England as a milliner. So she knew how to solve it. They made hats. We left the farm, of course. The war was well over, and my husband never got a pension or anything, nor did my father. He had a sister living in Vancouver, North Vancouver, and a husband and a sister had phoned and said, John, if you can be out here by Friday weekend, I've got a job for you. So we just packed up all the children and left the farm, never went back, and he was working for the district of North Vancouver, building roads. That was in Canyon Heights, right near the Cleveland Dam. We had a few hundred dollars, which we bought property on Canyon Boulevard, I think it was. Well, we had to have a little money to go with, so we sold a cow and used the money for down payment for the house on Canyon Boulevard. From there, we were here. They needed help, and his brother-in-law worked for the municipality as well. So he had access to what was needed, and there were many people waiting for that job. Jobs were scarce. I'd heard about it in the newspapers. They were looking for help, and so I spoke to my father about it, and he said, way you go. So I got on a train and went to Ontario, and I met a family there that I stayed with wherever I went, Isabel and Joe, Morrison. They had one son, and through her, I worked in a shell-filling plant at Ajax to begin with, and she moved to where they were making bombs, and had me go along. To make the shells, you sat behind a glass, and it was a long room, and there was young people working all the way from young girls, mainly, and me sitting on this stool, and with you pressing the shells, the gunpowder into the shell, and occasionally they would blow up when you were doing it. The plate glass protected you, and we didn't make a lot of money, but we made money. It was sort of a monotonous day, doing the same thing over and over and over. They were fairly heavy. We just put the shell in there, but then it went into a larger, about that high, and strange things, these shells that I was making, my husband was firing on the battlefield. Obviously, it wasn't your husband at that time, but would you have made that connection while you were making the shells? Did you know what John was doing at that time? Well, certainly yes and no. We wrote letters, and the off-time went shopping, by close. You made friends with everyone, but it didn't last because you were moving around so much. There were mainly people about my age. All the older people were at war. I think I left home when I was about 16 or 17, dropped out. Probably about six to nine months. As soon as I was 18, I joined the army in Toronto. I think it probably had a lot to do with my father, and to get off the farm. I just wanted to do something. When you're a teenager, you don't really think that much about helping others. You're trying to help yourself. Agree? Well, the uniform, that was the first thing being fitted into a uniform, and then you were in. That was important. What about the training? Well, I started out taking office work doing that, and it was so boring, so I got into driving. I forget how long that course was. It was quite a while. He taught us how to drive just about everything, and sent out to a place that needed a driver. You were taught everything about driving a car from the tires, and putting fuel in, and so on, but never really had to do that, because those vehicles were in good shape. Part of your training was the marching, so you had to— Oh, yes. Can you talk about that? Well, it was fun to march. It came in very useful to me. A few years ago, I joined the Lower Mainland Color Party. I was marching at all the parades. How about the training? Well, my training in the Army served me well during my life. You never got up without making your bed, never left it unmade. Consequently, some of the children picked that up, too, and you never left a mess. No, I loved it. Well, I loved to get in those vehicles and drove a lot of jeeps and later on cars, and meet the—I'd sent to Halifax after my training. I would meet the ships coming in, that sort of thing. It was quite interesting, and then bringing the boys back for more from England. Quite interesting. I taught all my children to drive except the last one, and my nerves had shot by them. They'd get so close to hitting another vehicle, and I'd just given it up. The Army vehicles were not that great, especially during the war. Pretty heavy junky. The jeeps were probably the favorite, and they were all open. You'd be driving along. Well, if I was picking—I'd mainly be picking up officers, so I'd take them to a facility that was for the armed forces. They were just normal people. They just talked about where they were going. They were really only interested in themselves. Were they happy to be home? Well, the ones that I met in Halifax were—they all were. They're all dead now. I had a friend from—well, I think she ended up living out near—her name was Torchy. She called her Torchy. She was tall and red-headed. She's the one that sent me to Halifax because she was playing illegally. She drew the ticket for Vancouver, and I got to Halifax. I forget how she did that, but that's why I went to Halifax. During my time in the services, I had a couple of friends, Torchy and her husband, and they were both in the services. We stayed friends for many years. Another friend that I stayed with while I was working in the war plants in Ontario that, unfortunately, neither are here any longer. I managed to get transferred to Vancouver since my mother was not well, and I wanted to be there to help her. She was in Saskatchewan, but it was closer than Halifax. Doesn't really make sense. I applied for it, and, fortunately, I was granted, and I was given a test time and completed that. I think it was just the story I told that I'd grown up on a farm, round machinery, had driven tractors, and so on. That helped. Very happy. I'd get to go home on holidays and have ridden that train right across Canada a few times. I'd been writing to my husband, who was my boyfriend at that time, on a regular basis. I didn't always get the letters there because the way it was during the war. That was the plan. We were married. In those days, you didn't live together like they do today. We were married within months after he got back, and my first child was born not too long after we were married. I think it grew with the letters. Well, the wedding was fairly normal. Our family had always gone to church, so it was a church wedding, and families were all invited, but didn't all come. Do you remember? No, you were not born. There was complications because neither mom's parents or dad's parents went to the wedding because dad was from a Catholic family and mom was from an Anglican family. Sparrows and Blue Jays don't mix. You refused to sign a paper saying that you were going to raise your children Catholic, so dad had to walk you around the church. To talk me into it. That was the request of the Catholic Church, that I become a Catholic, and I refused. So the priest talked to John and said, you talk her into it and it'll be okay. So I did sign it, but I never became a Catholic. For John and I, we were just quite happy just to be married, but the family thought that we should be either a Catholic or a Protestant, and we were married through the Catholic Church, but to this day we're Protestant. Well, John was so happy to have me that he would have done, and he left the church for me volunteering at the Silk Purse because you knew that. I've been there longer than anyone. I'm interested in art and people. I like people. Well, I think to volunteer and get outside yourself, and you can give more that way. In every field, they need volunteers. Do as you're told. Get with it. I make friends very easily. I like people. Mom talks to everyone, so she's open to meeting people, and she's also a good listener. So she allows a question. That's how she approaches people, and then they get to talk about themselves, and that's what people want. So mom is expert at that, and that's what she makes friends. Did you know that? No. There's good in everyone. I guess still being alive and well. I'm very fortunate to still be alive. My mother died at 76, and my father's 72. Her brother died at age 40, no matter where I go, when they hear I've had eight children, it's big news. Everyone knows. Well, my family belonged to Legion a long time. My father would go every year to the remembered stay, and that was his extent. I think Legion are doing the best they can. Well, it was kind of a fun night out, and Branch 44 is the one that I originally joined, and they make a nice evening of having, quite often they'll have music, they play bingo, and make everyone welcome. Oh yes, they always have something to eat. Candice is in charge of TB deaths. Some of the ruling in way back when men could join that women couldn't, and it's fortunately that's changed. Well, when they parade, they have someone in authority that's taking this, like I stood there. And it's always been done by men, so I was like the first woman to have done it in West Van. It's an honor. Well, I think that they should think about those that had gone on ahead and not made it. Just want things to be better, and help where they can. Those people who gave their lives for our country. Like in thousands upon thousands have. I don't think much of the police and now who just go around shooting people don't behave. I'm watching too much television. Have you got any suggestions? I was hoping to cheat off of your answer. Well, for me, life has been very good. I'm very happy with my family, and I just want the best for them. If help is needed, get in there and do it.