Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Friday, September 11, 2015

Work Boot Tutorial

Dad and some of his many slaves . . .
My Dad didn't have children.
He had slaves.
At least that is how his children saw it . . .
Dad worked hard doing . . . ranch stuff.
It took him most of the day.
Every day.
When he came in at the end of it, his recliner looked really, really good and it took great motivation to entice him to leave it.
Great motivation.
Silly little things like removing one's work boots weren't nearly big enough. Thus it was necessary to find other ways to accomplish these things.
That's where we came in.
His six little, willing slaves.
Every evening, one of us would be chosen for the distinct honour (his words) of helping Dad remove his boots.
Fortunately, this was a fairly simple operation, easily accomplished by a pair of small, eager hands, a backside and a large foot.
Don't get the wrong idea. There was no kicking involved . . .
The large person seated in the chair would lift his booted foot.
The standing smaller person would turn their back, straddle said foot and grasp the boot.
That's where the large foot came in.
While the small hands gripped the boot, the large foot would apply pressure to the small backside.
Small person would be pushed away from the large person and the boot would slide slowly from the foot.
Until, at last it would drop to the floor.
The boot, not the foot.
Operation completed.
The second boot would follow the first and much toe-wiggling comfort would be achieved.
And, more importantly, no one who had been working hard all day would have had to move out of his chair.
Utopia. (That's another word for Paradise, I looked it up . . .)
This operation continued nightly until his children grew up/got smarter.
Then he was on his own . . .

We had all moved away from home.
Dad had started wearing shoes that he could remove by himself.
One day, when we were visiting, he initiated our oldest granddaughter in the fine art of helping Great-Grandpa remove said shoes.
For the rest of us, it was a short stroll down memory lane.
But without the work boots.
It was almost as good.

12 comments:

  1. I can just imagine the nostalgic smiles on your faces as you watched the next generation step up and take on the reins as remover-of-the-boots. Such a proud moment!

    ReplyDelete
  2. I am so glad that my father can't read this. Something he missed out on in the children as slaves job description...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Like Karen, I can imagine the smiles all around as the grandchildren were initiated :)

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It was a very good moment! The passing of the torch. Or chains . . .

      Delete
  4. a nice little family tradition where it was win/win for everyone :) I think the "slaves" enjoyed this as much as the master!

    ReplyDelete
  5. My dad didn't move when he got home from work. I can't remember taking his shoes off, but we were always emptying his ashtray or getting him something to drink.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Diane, I have been catching up on your last few posts, and the thought that fills my mind tonight is that I hope my children will have such good memories of their parents as you do of yours. This post really speaks of love that flowed both ways.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It was a lovely childhood, Susan! I've tried to make the same warm memories for my kids as well. I guess we'll know. In about 50 years! :)

      Delete

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Diane was born and raised on one of the last of the great old Southern Alberta ranches. A way of life that is fast disappearing now. Through her memories and stories, she keeps it alive. And even, at times, accurate . . .

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