Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

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



Friday, July 30, 2021

The Fight That Cheers

Our 4-H beef club, once a year,

Explored the cont’nent far and near,

We all looked forward to that trip,

The highlight of our membership.

 

The year that I was seventeen,

Washington State was to be seen,

A camp like none we’d had before,

With pool, amenities galore!

 

Each day we’d spend the sunlight hours,

Examine caves and trails and flowers.

At night back in our ‘crib’, we’d rule,

And splash and play in that new pool,

 

When we arrived, our convoy found,

When we had parked and looked around,

The campsites all were done just so,

With fire pits ready, set to glow.

 

The grasses clipped, the paths laid out,

Just needing kids to run and shout.

But the pool for us to plunge and caper?

Existed, true, but just on paper.

 

In sweltering heat, we gathered round,

That hole they’d dug there in the ground,

That someday in the coming time,

D’have boards to jump, ladders to climb.

 

None of which did us much good,

N’existe pas from where we stood,

And so, chagrined, we turned away,

To find another place to play.

 

One dad took pitcher—he would fill,

His radiator to the gills,

Another grabbed a nearby hose,

A stream of water from it rose.

 

And suddenly, a breathless pause,

In heat that draped like sticky gauze,

Those men each took the other in, 

And suddenly, they gave a grin.

 

I’m sure there’ve been more epic fights,

That really have put out the lights,

For us, there’s none that can compare,

As 4-H’ers defeat despair.

 

With buckets, pails and kitchen pots,

We flung lots of water. LOTS,

Till few were left e’en somewhat dry,

(To find these few, we sent out spies.)

 

Some moms had gathered by a tent,

And laughed as children came and went,

Secure that no one in the troop,

Would soak the mothers of the group.

 

My brother spied them sitting there,

With pleated dresses, curl-ed hair.

Twitt’ring like some little birds,

“No, George, NO!” were their last words.

 

An hour or so of laughing din,

Saw everyone soaked to the skin,

Then happ’ly cooled and tired from play,

We set up camp to end the day.

 

I learned that day there in those woods,

Some things don’t work out like they should,

But don’t despair, it’s not the end…

Cause ‘better’s’ just around the bend!



Today's post was a challenge from the inimitable and totally awesome Karen at Baking in a Tornado
Visit her and see what she’s done with the theme!



6 comments:

  1. That's what happens when you promise a pool and don't deliver!!
    Thanks for joining me again this month.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's still a wonder there wasn't--you know--damage. When you get that many marauding teenagers going...

      Delete
  2. Ok. The french. It IS french, right. Or rather, French!

    ReplyDelete
  3. No camp without a decent water fight! I hope the pool was built, later.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You made lemonade of the lemons in the best way possible.

    ReplyDelete

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