I grew up in a teeny weeny French village called Bellegarde. Bellegarde is happily tucked away in the south east corner of Saskatchewan,Canada.
When you live in a small village you usually do a few different jobs to make money. My mother Madeline was janitor of the local school for twenty years and she would also "run" the mail from our local post office to another post office nearer to the train station. The village of Antler was located very close to a major highway and the train traveled right through the village.
My foster father Paul died when I was nine years old so my foster mother Madeline had to take over his jobs. Consequently I would join her on these drives to deliver and pick up the canvas bags of mail.
Antler had an independent grocery store owned by Mr. Copet so while we were waiting for the mail to get sorted into the bags that we would transport back to Bellegarde...mom and I would wander over to Mr. Copets' store and buy our groceries for the week. Invariably a plastic bag of Mackintosh apples(my mothers favorite and also probably the only type in the store) would be in that cardboard box of groceries.
Even today when I happen upon the scent of apples, it immediately brings back good memories.
Until next time.
Hare Krsna.
Lal
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| Gord carrying a bucket of apples in our local organic apple orchard. |
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| When one cow sees us coming within moments the entire herd comes running! We feed them a couple buckets a day. |
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