Never leave it 'til its done,
Be the labour great or small,
Do it well or not at all.
The above verse is likely one of many my father taught me in 1926 during those frequent fence post high Alberta snowstorms while their first four children were already in classes at our one room country school just over a mile away. I watched my Mother mixing up the ingredients for making bread while boiling the empty flour sacks for an hour to remove the printed advertising on them. She sewed these sacks into undergarments to provide cotton underwear for the family. An hour or two pumping the treadle of her Singer sewing machine while My father finished reading the weekly newspaper,"The Free Press Prairie Farmer." If the gallon syrup bucket was empty, school lunch bread was spread with pork lard. June 30 ended the school year and the Weeks family hosted a picnic held among the trees that had been planted by them a hundred years ago. Anyone attending was welcome to bring their favourite outdoor food to the picnic to share with all.
The theme among the farmers was "Lets hope our crops won't be hailed out this summer.”
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