sitting in someone's rowboat at the bottom of 11th Avenue in St. Eustache.
My grandmother outside the cottage. I think this was taken in 1948, just a few years after my grandmother and Uncle Alex bought the cottage. Before this they would spend the hot summer months at Pine Beach, which is on the West Island of Montreal, just off Highway 2 & 20, near Pointe Claire.
I always loved St. Eustache. What wonderful summer holidays we had there! For a child, it was truly, shall we say, "Edenic". We had our cottage and across the street was my grandmother's cottage, which she owned with my Uncle Alex. They (Alex and Ivy and my grandmother and Mable) all shared their rather small cottage every summer. During the day, when my mother was at work, my Auntie Ivy and my grandmother kept an eye on my brother and I. We spent our days swimming, walking on the railroad tracks to a small island and making camp fires there, smoking little cigars (the things children do!), roaming around, walking on the train tracks into the country, hearing about some farmer who would shoot trespassers with pepper shot, buying candy at Jed's, going to movies at The Normandy (?) Theatre, sitting in the still hot summer afternoons with my grandmother and Auntie Ivy, the smell of Ivy's DuMaurier cigarettes, the smell of newsprint and the coloured comics on Saturday, sleeping with my Auntie Mable and grandmother when my mother wasn't there, the three of us in the same bed with my head at the bottom of the bed between them. I wouldn't exaggerate this if it weren't as I've described, but (of course) what I've described is from a child's perspective. For my grandmother there was the middle of the night phone call from my Uncle Herb telling us that Auntie Mable had died in her early 60s in P.E.I (?). Mable was Grandma's closest companion. No wonder I'm still writing about them, thinking about them, I loved them all so much.