EARLY DAYS
Dedicated to Nell Cutt.
Three long days on a slow train, almost at Flin Flon,
Then the train lurched and stopped, what’s going on?
A derailment, tired to death with a crying baby too,
When she got to Flin Flon, all would be well she knew.

At last she saw her husband, greeted her with a smile,
She’d be home and in the tub in just a little while,
He took baby, offered her boots to go past her knees,
She looked at her dainty feet, “I’m not wearing these!”

But two steps later when thick mud covered her dress,
She put them on and needed them she did confess,
Holding a flashlight they struggled through the mire,
She hoped things would get better for they were dire.

Home was a concrete base with a tent stuck on top,
No water for a bath into which she could hop,
Three days of dirty diapers, her clothes smelly too,
A screaming baby in a tent, what could she do?

Just then she wanted to up and run far, far away,
She wished the train was leaving town that day,
Things got better, now the only placed she’d be
Is living in dear old Flin Flon, happy as can be.

But the trials and tribulations in the good old days,
She does not want to return to those harder ways,
Nell still gets around and a joy to sit and talk to,
It’s a thrill to listen of what she did and all she knew.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson July 27, 2002