how David amputated his ear

When I was a teenager we moved to my mother’s family farm in Fielding, NB.  Since we had been living in the neighbourhood it was an easy transition.  And my four younger brothers soon found many areas for play.

Right to left - David, Bruce, Allen and Rodney

One was the lumber pile situated on the top of the knoll between the house and the barn.  I am unsure of how the pile was started, perhaps when the sheep pen was constructed.  What was left was a pile of finished lumber that could easily have filled a haft ton truck.  I use the word pile loosely as the lumber and boards had been pulled and pushed until they had doubled in width and reduced in height.  Mother continually admonished to boys not to play on the lumber pile and she suspected that nails or worse might lurk in the depths.

 On the day in question, my brothers were cavorting around like a flock of kid goats.  I was outside doing some chores when I heard the screams, then “Mummy, Mummy ….David has cut off his ear!”  I called for our mother and then ran to the lumber pile.  David was sitting up, his head in his hands and blood was pouring out through his fingers.  Mother appeared, did her usual little chicken hop (her reaction to all things stressful) then called; “Where is his ear. Where is his ear?”    Mother was practical and resourceful but she could also be a bit hysterical.  I thought she had finally lost it.   

The severed ear was found, still clinging to the hatchet (or sharp rock, there has always been a question over the implement.)   Mother instructed me to run for ice, a wet face cloth and a towel.  She loaded David in the back seat of the car, smacked the ear back in place, covered it with the wet facecloth, the ice and the towel and set off to the hospital.  I stayed home with the rest of my siblings. 

When Mother and David returned the bleeding was stopped and the ear reattached.  When I asked how she knew what to do Mother replied that everyone knew that ear is just muscle.  Mother was a registered practical nurse.  We were all pleased that David had regained his ear, David most of all as they were quite prominent.   And that is the story of how David cut off his ear, almost!

David a few years later

A few days Mother was visiting and we recalled the incident.  Mother remembers it thus.  She took David in the house, washed his ear and head and put them back together; she does not remember stitches or tape.  I asked how she kept the ear to his head, David was not a kid to stay still, and she said with the wash cloth.  Sounds suspicious to me, yet we both agree the ear was totally severed. 

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!