Neepawa is the first home of which I have actual personal memories, not just passed on stories—though the memories are fragmented and hazy.  I do remember the big yellow quarantine sign on the front door when Nadine and I came down with measles.


Something like this but for measles.

I remember my father bringing a huge block of ice, grasped in gigantic tongs, to put in the icebox in the kitchen.


The exterior of our icebox was similar to A,
but had a larger compartment, not just a drawer, for the ice.

I remember our swing on the tree in the front yard.

These snapshots were taken in July 1947 on or near Nadine’s 3rd birthday.
I had turned 5 in April.

I remember my first Hallowe’en party.
And my first piano recital.

But there are still stories as well.  I will let Nadine tell the first, as it involves her.


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