My grandmother turns one hundred years old today. Every time I visit her I ask her about what it was like to grow up on the frontier in Saskatchewan in the first half of the twentieth century. That was a long time ago.

My favourite story, one I’ll never forget and one I think of often when I’m complaining about the heat or the rain, goes like this. My grandmother, who was seven or eight years old at the time, was asked by her parents to go and check on the cattle which were a few miles away. She got on her horse and, after riding a bit, noticed there was a coyote following her. Knowing that the coyote was hoping for my grandmother to fall of the horse so he could have a quick, easy meal, she got scared and hightailed it back to the farm house. Here’s the good part. She had to lie to her parents about why she came back (she told them she had a stomach ache) because if she told them the truth they would tell her she was being ridiculous and to go back out there. Apparently, being stalked as prey by a coyote didn’t count as a good excuse for an eight year old to not do her chores. Those were different times.

When I look around now at people who are dying without air-conditioning, I like to think about what it would be like if we were all transported back to Paynton, Saskatchewan in 1918. In some ways we’ve come a long way since 1910, the year my grandmother was born, but in other ways, we’ve gone back a long way.

Happy Birthday Grandma. (I’ll tell you in person because I know you don’t use the internet. If only I could get on the parliamentary channel…)

Here’s a song that my Grandmother used to have on her player piano back in Saskatchewan–and can still play on the piano. (click here for the player piano version)