about Burl Brookers Peas!

Burl (right) and brother Wallace

Some men live for fishing, and some for hunting. For others their passion is sports, politics, automobiles, animals or gardening. Burl Brooker had a passion, his granddaughters.

I do not think that Burl expected grandchildren.  His first, Vavielle, spent her baby years in British Columbia.  When we did return to New Brunswick, Burl took every opportunity to spend time with her. They played together like two pups, often with Burl on the floor to bring himself down to Vavielles’s height.   But he was just in training.  Soon Leisa was born and we moved to Fiellding, next door to the Brookers. As next door as you can be in the country, when separated by two fields and a church.

This proximity gave Burl ample opportunity for his tricks.  One day the girls went outside to find their bicycles tied in meters of rope and tethered to the clothesline pole.  Another day they heard the dog barking and discovered him dressed in their clothing, from jeans to hat.  Burl’s tricks went on and on; enjoyed by both grandparent and children.

Every outing warranted a treat.  I tried in vain to limit them, but ….  At any time our panty cupboard was home to at least twenty of Leisa’s half-finished treats.  Vavielle being the older always finished hers.  Better than chips, chocolate or ice cream was fresh new peas. Yes, those green beans just bursting out of their shells.   When Burl realized how much the girls enjoyed peas, he had his next challenge.

Did he plant a row or two in his garden?  No, he planted a field of peas. To be more specific, the he planted the field between our homes.  Burl did rotation planting and there were new peas for weeks.  Vavielle and Leisa certainly enjoyed those peas, and appreciated their grandfather even more.

No one asked me about Burl Brookers Peas!

for a Cabbage Patch Doll

The year was 1982, it was early in the fall and I was Christmas shopping for my two daughters who were then nine and fourteen.  We lived in a small rural community and the nearest place to shop was Woodstock, a town almost an hour’s drive away.   My last stop of the day was the newly opened Canadian Tire.   I was perusing the Christmas decoration when I heard a commotion. I followed the noise and discovered a staff member setting up a display of dolls.

 But a different kind of doll, Cabbage Patch dolls.  A crowd had gathered laughing and negating these new creations.  With round faces and pug noses, they proclaimed to have been harvested from the cabbage patch.  Their maker Xavier Roberts had signed every doll and provided them with adoption papers.  Intuitively I chose one doll with blonde hair and one with dark brown (just like my daughters).  They were $24.99, expensive in that day.  But I knew they were going to be popular.

I took them home and hid them in one of my many “secret” hiding places.  And waited.  I waited for the girls to talk about them, waited for commercials during the Saturday cartoons, waited to see them in the Christmas sales flyers.  Nothing.   October came and the girls made their Christmas lists, first draft.    November, second draft.  Still no word of Cabbage Patch dolls.  I was beginning to think my shoppers savvy had done me wrong.  End of November, the media blitz began. In days all stores were sold out.  Suddenly a Cabbage Patch doll was tops on Leisa’s list and Vavielle was saying they were “cute”.  I was very pleased with myself.

Then the ads began “Wanted to buy – Cabbage Patch doll, willing to pay any price.”  And so it went, the going price rose to $200.   That was half of our mortgage payment!   At that price I brought Vavielle into the decision.  Should Santa leave one for her or should it be sold.  Then she could have the money for other purchases, probably a skating dress.  Vavielle opted to sell.

 On Christmas morning when Leisa found her doll under the tree she was over joyed.  The adoption papers pronounced her to be “Lauren” and the official ceremony was oft repeated.  Truly my impromptu purchase gave my daughters Christmas the glow of happiness.

 Leisa loved that doll long and hard.   In an odd twist of fate she later won another Cabbage Patch doll at a community fund raiser.  But the second doll did not have the magic of her beloved Lauren.

As I write this Leisa is in the hospital, admitted for tests and observation for some troubling symptoms.  Nearing forty and a Mother herself, Leisa always is my little girl.  My wish for both my daughters is good health, loving families, happiness and financial stability. 

 Just as No one asked me   for a Cabbage Patch Kid, they do not ask me to  enchant their worlds.  However, I would if I could. Love you girls.