Tag: Childhood Memories

How a Marble Led to My Deviated Septum

A white marble caused my deviated septum.

Growing up, I was obsessed by a handful of games and toys. Breaking Point was the ultimate. Balancing individual blue balls with thin sticks on a hanging rack of connected white balls. It was the perfect game for my concentration and lung development, since I’d wail at the top of my lungs whenever I lost.

Playing with Little People was serious business / Photo credit: A brave mother

My overall favourite were my Fisher Price Little People. I’d spend hours playing with them and my treasured Tomy Merry-Go-Copter. The concept: Little People travelled via elevator and boarded a helicopter. The Copter dropped them onto a train. Similar to Queen Elizabeth and 007’s entrance during the 2012 London Summer Games.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MzdTi7pXsbA

Board games? It was Mr. Mouth and Quick, Jump, It’s a Skunk.

I was obsessed by that Skunk Game. I’d watch the little white marbles roll when they were knocked by the skunk paddles. They’d disappear for a second then reappear. Where did they go? It was a mesmerizing game of split-second peek-a-boo.

Somehow we misplaced a marble, resulting in an uneven number. Literally an odd ball. So, I took the marble to sleep on my pillow at bedtime. The next morning, I placed the marble back in the box. But the lost ball hadn’t returned. Again, the same marble slept on my pillow. For awhile.

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When You Sell a House, You Keep the Memories

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Saying goodbye

My parents built their dream house.

A home in the woods. Surrounded by trails and bulrushes – and black bears.

Which means they sold their house and acreage on Highway 68. The acreage even had its own business name, “Karatchuk Acres.”

On September 30th, mom and dad went to their former home. One last time before the new owners took possession. They walked around the yards, reminiscing, taking photos. Sending selfies with, “Saying goodbye.” When my dad was ten months old, he moved to that acreage. My mom, since she was eighteen, and the three of us girls since birth.

Everything went with the sale. The front garden, flowerbeds, the apple trees. Sheds, garages, and silos. The red-weathered barn at the end of the driveway.

The middle portion is the the original house, seen above.
We moved into the rear bi-level bedrooms on New Year’s Day, 1988.
The front sunroom was completed in 2013. It replaced the brown south-facing deck and the main entrance,

With the sale also went a huge west yard where my first childhood home stood.

In 1985, my parents sold our 600 sq.ft. little house and we relocated to my late paternal grandparents house on the same acreage. The little house was lifted from the foundation, set onto a moving trailer, and transported to Eriksdale, Manitoba and its new owners.

But this is different.

When I visit my parents, I’ll see my childhood to cusp of adulthood home. But from the outside – and afar.

Continue reading “When You Sell a House, You Keep the Memories”

Childhood Memories of Stefan’s Store – Chocolate, Candy, and Old Cornflakes

Boarded up with chipping paint. Far left, Stefan’s Store. Middle building, CJ’s,
Far right, Stefan’s former house / Credit: Tammy Karatchuk, 2017

There’s a small white building at the corner of Hwy 8 and Provincial Road 222 in Hnausa, Manitoba.

When I was a child, that white store was Stefanson and Son General Store. However, most people called it Stefan’s. Stefan and his father, Sigurgeir, ran the business until Stefan went solo. Meanwhile, his brother John operated The Dog Patch in Arborg, an eight-minute drive from Hwy 68 and Hwy 8. However, Stefan catered to a different clientele. Cottagers. Campers. Fishermen. Kids at the beach. Teenagers who wanted to shoot pool.

I grew up near Hnausa during an idyllic time. When Hnausa Beach was a beach, not a Provincial Park. When you could enter year-round rather than a gate blocking access at the end of summer until camping season.

One constant was Stefan’s store though. The only thing that changed was the colour of the building. Until the early-90s, it had a Walmart blue door, matching the bottom half of the store.

Stefan Stefanson was a gruff and tough man with a heart of gold. Whenever he’d tally my Mom’s purchases, he’d allow my older sister, Jenn, and I behind the counter to choose from an array of chocolate bars, bubblegum, and novelty candies – such as candy necklaces.

During the summers, our Mom would make an early morning pit stop before dropping us off at Hnausa Day Camp. We’d arrive at camp with lipstick candy and lollipop rings. Stefan’s store used to have a go-cart track behind his store. As camp was winding down, the older kids could be heard for miles zipping around that track. Stefan shut down those go-carts in the mid-80s, deeming them a liability. Stefan’s was the only place to buy gas in Hnausa, but those tanks were more of a hassle. He let them run dry, and he kept them for decorative purposes.

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Arborg’s Quaint, Not Different – The Vibe Of A Small Town

Small towns are underrated, and they’re often stereotyped.

My hometown of Arborg is quaint and unique – and cute. Maybe that’s too far. No, I think cute is accurate.

Arborg is cool. Maybe it’s our vibe. Or our constant stream of socials and gatherings.

Whether you were raised in Arborg, or you visited family or competed here in a sporting event, you noticed there’s something you can’t put your finger on.

Arborg’s different without being strange. We’re cool without being cocky. And we’re kind without being fake.

I love Winnipeg. With its history  and the Exchange District. Its downtown, and its Charleswood. But when I returned from Edmonton, I gravitated back home.

And home was Arborg.

And some things never change:

  1. Our postal code. It’s “R ‘Oh’ C, ‘Oh’ A ‘Oh’ ” because saying “R-zero-C, zero-A-zero is bizarre.
  2. We like coffee. We like Chicken Chef. And we like to go for coffee at 3 p.m. Every. Day.
  3. If you call a wrong number, chances are that person knows the person you’re trying to call. Hold on, because chances are they’ll give you the correct phone number too.
  4. Pothole season is one day.
  5. Construction season is two weeks at the most.
  6. If four vehicles come to a four-way stop, no one moves and…
  7. There’s one four-way stop in town.
  8. Chances are if you forget to lock your doors at night, you’ll survive.
  9. Chances are if you forget to lock your doors at night, you have a means of protection in the house. (We’re friendly, but we’re not we have our limits.)
  10. Everyone either knows everyone, or we know someone who knows someone else who is knows the person you’re talking about. Got it?
  11. Almost everyone owns either a: 1) snowmobile; 2) motorcycle; 3) ATV; 4) black or white vehicle; or 5) vintage vehicle
  12. It’s not a “garage” or “workplace.” It’s a “shop.”
  13. When entering the Arborg Co-op, account for visiting time.
  14. It’s common to see tractors, ATVs, and lawnmowers driving down streets – usually heading towards Main Street .
  15. We’ve had a rivalry with another town for over 70 years. Few people know the reason.
  16. If people don’t know how to find Arborg, we give them directions starting from Gimli.
  17. We have our own Starbucks. It’s called Ria Foods. And, no, they don’t have the Unicorn Frappuccino.
  18. The Arborg Bakery increases the town’s population on Saturdays.
  19. Chances are most people over 40 years old either shopped or heard of the Craft Post, Juna’s Footwear, Deren’s Hardware, Stardust Motel, and Workforce Fashions. Legendary stores that no longer exist, but the memories are passed down to younger generations.
  20. Same with JD’s, a restaurant which served the “Arburger” in the 1980s.
  21. We’re called Arborgians. Although Arborger has a nice ring.