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Gwen Tuinman

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Farm

My Tobacco Farm Summers

chopping_burley_tobacco

I don’t smoke. Thankfully, I never have. But I was once a teenager with dreams of post secondary pursuits and tuitions that would need paying, and so, like most young people in my hometown, my summers were spent working on a tobacco farm.  I’ not writing to celebrate the tobacco industry, but rather to reminisce over an experience. When I was thirteen, there was no internet. I had access to whatever television channels could be had by using an manually turned antenna. My friends and I never heard of a social movement to rally against an industry.  I didn’t know of any one who’d had cancer. My employment predates the infamous Philip Morris lawsuit. Continue reading “My Tobacco Farm Summers”

Feeling Nostalgiac — The Milk House and the Farm Dog

Gwen and Grandpa Gillett at the Milk house

This is one of my favourite childhood photos — sitting in front of the milk house with my grandfather.  I was one year old at the time it was taken. The photo sits in a curio cabinet among other small treasures. I often stop to visit it there. When I close my eyes, I see the milk house as clearly as if I am in front of it now. Continue reading “Feeling Nostalgiac — The Milk House and the Farm Dog”

Curating Wonder — Farm Couples

c8ce9208ed31eb61bc674cae6fbbb489 Continue reading “Curating Wonder — Farm Couples”

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