Moose Country Minute – October 26 2013


My dear old mom turned 90 on Monday, which has little or nothing to do with the great outdoors other than she insisted her five children embrace it.
She didn’t fish, or hunt, or take us camping but she insisted we get the hell out of the house and go swim in the quarry, or build a fort in the bush, or catch some bullheads out of the creek in the valley for our fish on Friday ritual.
She would not have tolerated the kids of today who play videos all day, or have no idea how to throw a baseball with any skill or strength.
When you were old enough to get a part-time job, you got a part-time job. And, if you didn’t have one by the age of 14, then you were a slacker.
I was working at the age of 10, delivering newspapers every evening, and starting the day by mucking cow dung from the floor of the dairy farm next door and hauling hay bales from the mow.
I saw a calf being born long before I knew the mechanics of how a bull and a cow created one.
Childhood obesity was not discussed because it barely existed.
What existed, instead, was the outdoors, and the freedom it had to offer.
It’s there in the city, too, by the way.
You just have to look for it.

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