I knew that some of my friends spent part of the summer vacation at camp – whatever that was. They stayed for, sometimes, two weeks or more and had ‘classes’ in crafts, sports, outdoor cooking and other things which didn’t sound very interesting to me. I had no interest in learning to paddle a canoe or identify twenty different kinds of birds. Horseback riding sounded like fun, but turning lights out at nine o’clock and suffering through calisthenics before breakfast sounded like a good way to ruin a summer. My parents sent me off for two delicious weeks at my grandparents’ farm.
Aside from my mother’s parents, there were also her brothers Don, Edwin and Virgil, her sister Opal who had been briefly married and had a son Gus who was my age, and the youngest daughter Virginia who was more like an older sister to me than an aunt. Two hired men were there during the day and ate some of their meals with the family, including the big noon meal and snacks at mid mornings and afternoons. During and for a few years after World War Two, when machinery was either unavailable or very expensive, the farm work was done mostly by man and horsepower. Everyone worked when there was planting, cultivating and harvesting to be done. Before selective herbicides and disease-resistant hybrids, weed and insect control required a lot of labor in the hot summer sun and even women and children worked in the fields when necessary. That included my cousin and me, even though I was, supposedly, a guest.
To keep us all hydrated while working in the hot sun, copious amounts of iced tea, lemonade, beer and other liquids were always available in the field. Nobody objected if Gus and I shared a can of beer on occasion – try that, you kids at your fancy camps! And there was usually a chilled watermelon or muskmelon and salty snacks available. Everybody sweated, and we didn’t worry about the smell. Both my grandma and aunt Opal firmly believed that antiperspirants were dangerous in hot weather because they prevented the body from cooling itself ‘as nature intended’ and could make you sick. And nobody objected if you took a break to sit by the creek with your feet buried in the cool mud, or jumped, clothes and all, into the horse tank to cool off quickly.
There was usually plenty of time for fun, too. Even though there was no swimming pool handy, there was always the big concrete tank where the horses and cattle drank. It was a bit slimy with some fine, floating green stuff growing in the water and several over-grown gold fish who had been a failed effort to control the green stuff. The fish were no threat and neither was the slime if we were really eager for a cool dip in the water. The alternatives were a cold shower in the wash house or a water-fight usually initiated by Grandma or Opal and involving anybody who dared get near, regardless of their willingness to participate.
I even managed to get a horseback ride or two, though nothing like those campers told me about. There were two horses, named Dick and Bob,. They were huge work horses, accustomed to pulling wagons, hay-racks and plows. They had no saddles, and Gus and I rode them bareback with one of the uncles or hired men leading them around the grassless yard between the barn and the house.
With so many people to feed every day, Grandma, Opal and Virginia spent a lot of time in the kitchen. In winter, the cooking was done on a huge iron stove which burned continuously to heat most of the rooms in the house. In summer, the “new” electric stove was used and, as Grandma wasn’t used to electric appliances, Opal was in charge of most of the cooking and baking. By the time I was 12, I had learned many of the rudiments of baking and was allowed to pitch in and bake several things each day. There was always a cake, often two or three pies. Enough cinnamon rolls and cookies to open a bakery. Grampa praised my caramel flavored burnt-sugar cakes and showed his appreciation by taking me fishing and buying me ice cream bars on the way home. So, who needed to go to camp!