Cousins Story 13
Almost every fall, when we were small, Grandma and Grandpa Dyck and Aunt Frieda would arrive for a visit. Aunt Frieda later married Grandpa's son, Henry and after that he came too. I was always happy when they came, even though they never stayed with us because of our small house. Grandpa Dyck invariably brought a whole carton of Jersey Milk chocolate bars to hand out to all of us grandkids. Because chocolate bars were scarce at our homes, these were a special treat. I don't know what the other kids did, but I would eat only 2 squares a day so mine would last me a week or more (A Jersey milk bar weight 4 oz in those days). Several times I remember Grandpa giving me a second bar too.
One thing we always did when our grandparents came was go for a picnic to the river at the Belheumer Ferry. This was their idea because they often came in harvest time when our Dads would likely have preferred to be harvesting instead of picnicking. For us kids it was a great treat. My family never went picnicking except then. Dad did not believe in such frivolity! The picnic meant a wiener roast. What else we had besides wieners, I have no idea. The wiener roast was special because my Dad refused to buy wieners. He said they were made from bull meat and unfit for human consumption! but we kids loved them.
After Uncle Henry came with Aunt Frieda, he always brought fishing gear, bait, hooks, sinkers, floats and line. The idea was actually to have a fish fry. The wieners were just in case we caught no fish. Uncle Henry would give any kid who wanted to try fishing the necessary gear. The fishing pole was cut from the sand willows by the shore. A length of line was cut from a spool and tied to the pole. The hook was attached at the other end of the line and baited with gopher meat. (I remember helping Uncle Henry snare a few gophers to cut up for bait). Then a sinker was tied near the hook, and a float tied about 18" away from the hook. He showed us how to cast (throw) the hook out into the water and then wait and watch. If the float began to wobble and sink we knew a fish was at the bait. The next move was to jerk the line out of the water and hopefully a nice fish would be at the other end. It seldom was, and with so many amateur, young fishermen so close together, it could be decidedly dangerous when empty hooks flew through their though I don't remember anyone ever getting hooked; I know I wasn't. But, alas, fish at Belheumer Ferry were scarce so no fish-fry ever came about. We caught a few suckers and small chubs but no jacks, gold-eyes, perch or pickerel. The few little fish we did catch were put in a pail of water to take home for the cats. It was a wiener roast after all!
I remember Aunt Frieda saying, "I don't want mine roasted. I don't like burned meat. I'll eat mine raw!" This used to gross me out. I didn't know then that wieners were fully cooked when you bought them and imagined her literally eating raw meat.
Besides fishing and having a wiener roast, we also got to play in the river. None of us had bathing suits, but we took off our shoes and socks and were able to wade in the shallow water. It was usually Aunt Elsie, who was young at heart, that would find a suitably shallow, sheltered spot for us to play in. Then she would take off her shoes and socks and join us. I remember much splashing and squealing and laughter. We got suitably soaked but in the warm autumn sun, we soon dried off and nobody cared.
One thing we always did when our grandparents came was go for a picnic to the river at the Belheumer Ferry. This was their idea because they often came in harvest time when our Dads would likely have preferred to be harvesting instead of picnicking. For us kids it was a great treat. My family never went picnicking except then. Dad did not believe in such frivolity! The picnic meant a wiener roast. What else we had besides wieners, I have no idea. The wiener roast was special because my Dad refused to buy wieners. He said they were made from bull meat and unfit for human consumption! but we kids loved them.
After Uncle Henry came with Aunt Frieda, he always brought fishing gear, bait, hooks, sinkers, floats and line. The idea was actually to have a fish fry. The wieners were just in case we caught no fish. Uncle Henry would give any kid who wanted to try fishing the necessary gear. The fishing pole was cut from the sand willows by the shore. A length of line was cut from a spool and tied to the pole. The hook was attached at the other end of the line and baited with gopher meat. (I remember helping Uncle Henry snare a few gophers to cut up for bait). Then a sinker was tied near the hook, and a float tied about 18" away from the hook. He showed us how to cast (throw) the hook out into the water and then wait and watch. If the float began to wobble and sink we knew a fish was at the bait. The next move was to jerk the line out of the water and hopefully a nice fish would be at the other end. It seldom was, and with so many amateur, young fishermen so close together, it could be decidedly dangerous when empty hooks flew through their though I don't remember anyone ever getting hooked; I know I wasn't. But, alas, fish at Belheumer Ferry were scarce so no fish-fry ever came about. We caught a few suckers and small chubs but no jacks, gold-eyes, perch or pickerel. The few little fish we did catch were put in a pail of water to take home for the cats. It was a wiener roast after all!
I remember Aunt Frieda saying, "I don't want mine roasted. I don't like burned meat. I'll eat mine raw!" This used to gross me out. I didn't know then that wieners were fully cooked when you bought them and imagined her literally eating raw meat.
Besides fishing and having a wiener roast, we also got to play in the river. None of us had bathing suits, but we took off our shoes and socks and were able to wade in the shallow water. It was usually Aunt Elsie, who was young at heart, that would find a suitably shallow, sheltered spot for us to play in. Then she would take off her shoes and socks and join us. I remember much splashing and squealing and laughter. We got suitably soaked but in the warm autumn sun, we soon dried off and nobody cared.
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