Writing Class Article - A Trip To Dinsmore

A Trip to Dinsmore

By Jo Oct 8/15

We rushed out the door after a hurried supper. Pat needed to go pick up oil from the Dinsmore Hutterite Colony for our used oil boiler. Winter is nearing and we go through a tote a month so part of our fall preparations is going to get oil.

I don’t always go along on these trips, but this time Pat asked if I would and I was happy for the little outing. It’s only a half hour drive south of our place and the drive went quickly.

Upon arrival we noticed the quiet yard and houses. We drove around a bit while Pat tried again to get Eddie, the preacher, on the phone. Pat has gone there lots of times before but I had never been to this particular colony and I was very interested in it all.

This colony was very neat and well taken care of. The houses were arranged in two long rows of plain apartment-style buildings. The shops were another row right in front of the houses, door after door, plain white with black trim. There was one small pot of flowers beside a full glass door that looked like it led to the kitchens.

After a while we noticed some commotion by one house door. Two little girls were peering out, their full skirts swinging in the evening breeze and their black polka dot caps flapping behind them when they ran back inside. A stout short man in plain black dress pants and jacket stepped out under the little yard light by their door. The swinging screen door slammed shut behind him as he stepped out and Pat jumped out of the pickup to talk to him.

Very shortly Pat jumped back in and we backed across the yard to the first shop. “Eddie, himself!” he said. I nodded as he jumped back out. Colby and Zach grabbed their jackets and jumped out too. I unbuckled Wyatt and told him to sit by me and pretend he was driving.

“I hate your house!” a rounded bearded face said at Pat’s open door. I recognised Eddie.

I looked at him, surprised and then laughed. I didn’t know what to think but maybe he had seen our place sometime, though I was sure I’d never met Eddie before today.

I talked with Wyatt and read my emails and talked with my mom and sisters on Whatsapp. Wyatt kept opening the windows so I put on my jacket. Soon Pat was ready to drive around to the back of the shop for the last tote of oil. Eddie opened the furthest shop door and we drove right inside the clean, neat shop. The last three bays were covered with what looked like gravel to me but soon Eddie came and leaned in Pat’s window.

“Wanna try some sunflower seeds?” he asked.

“Sure!”

Three little girls crowded close to Eddie at the window.

“I have six girls,” he informed me. “No boys. The girls do a lot of work. See those sunflower seeds? That’s their job! They do that in the evenings. Right now we’re harvesting carrots. We provide carrots to all the Co-ops in Saskatchewan!”

“Wow!” I said, impressed. “That’s a lot of carrots!”

“Do you help?” I asked the girls.

“We babysit,” the oldest one answered.

“We use a carrot digger that came all the way from Prince Edward Island!” Eddie said. “My other girls are learning their German.” It came out sounding like ch-erman.  I watched him as he grabbed a paper plate from the middle sized girl. “Here, for you,” he said and handed me a plate of cookies stacked four high all around.

“Whatever! Thank you very much!” I laughed. “This is so nice of you! Did you girls bake them?” I knew instantly that they hadn’t. Of course, they have cooks that provide for everyone but it’s such a natural thing to ask.

“No,” they said shyly, looking at me.

Soon Pat was done pumping oil and we backed out of the shop and said our goodbyes.

“Well,” Pat said, “Eddie says he heats our house.”

I laughed. I had misunderstood.