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.