Summer had arrived, and the heat in the beautiful Annapolis Valley of Nova Scotia was hanging heavy over the orchards, and most of all over the people. It was time to make the yearly journey to Newfoundland, to the home of our childhood years, near the sea, where the wild roses bloomed and the blueberries were waiting for us.

The yearly visit home to Newfoundland was an accepted part of our lives. We wanted our children to know their heritage, spend time with their grandparents, hear stories told in Newfoundland’s unique dialects, and to experience the unique traditional foods, music and culture of Newfoundland. A road and boat trip with two spirited children, so full of mischief, was not without its "moments" shall we say, but it was always worth the journey when we arrived in Shoal Harbour, to see the big family home of my husband’s parents, and receive the inviting, warm welcome from Nanny and Poppy Lowe.

Every year we made the same pilgrimage, and in some way there was a comfort in that. Comfort in knowing that although we were far away, our children born and being raised in Nova Scotia where our work had taken us, that home was the same. The big white house surrounded by wild roses, the swimming hole, the workshop where Poppy made such beautiful things, and the tiny candy store, were all still unchanged. We would feel more grounded, more a part of our families again. Each year the children would learn more new things about Newfoundland and their extended families. As they grew they, too, sensed the feeling of having roots that went far back in time on the Island Province of Newfoundland.

But, of course, two smart, rascally children, the boy being older and quieter than his sister but nonetheless full of mischief and pranks, and a sister who was capable of thinking up the most outrageous plans of attack, led to many outrageous occasions over the years.

My son, John, and his younger sister, Heather, were definitely partners and friends, as well as siblings. They stuck together and arranged some astounding practical jokes. One would think it up, the other would always comply, and nobody would know anything was happening until it all exploded or imploded. Then the laughter was contagious, the talk of how they did it would go down in family history, and I am sure to this day they are not beyond pulling off a great prank. They are adults now, and their ability and range of options have just expanded as they have grown older.

One occasion is especially memorable. On a beautiful summer day in Shoal Harbor when they were around 14 and 10 years of age, they were out and about, everyone was just picking berries or sitting in the sun. Poppy had passed away, and they missed his presence, but there was still Nanny to work their magic on, but she loved them and always forgave.

One afternoon we, the parents of the infamous pair, were just relaxing. It was nearing the end of our vacation, and we were content to do just that before leaving. I had noticed the children lurking about but paid little attention. They were always busy doing something, building tiny boats or making rock formations with glue, and bouquets of wild flowers for their grandmother. So we let them be free. Their grandmother was having her "sleep in," a routine of hers if nothing was planned for the day. She was growing older, was more relaxed when we were home, so she stayed up late and slept late, and indulged herself by traveling around with us, eating out, enjoying the children and the change in routine.

Soon it was lunchtime and I was standing in the kitchen munching on blueberries, when I heard a loud CLUNK and a shrill cry from upstairs. I ran up the stairs and witnessed an incredible scene.

Nanny Lowe was standing in her nightdress, her hair stuck on end, with a startled, mortified look on her face. I could not imagine what had happened, but I managed to get her to nod "No" when I asked if she was ill. In the background I could hear giggles coming from the children’s bedroom.

Then she pointed to her watch, and still having not found her voice, she put it up to my line of vision. The watch read four P.M. I still did not know the problem, but followed Nanny to our bedroom, where she pointed to our clock, which also said four P.M.

Then she found her voice and managed to gasp "Why did everybody let me stay in bed so long? This is terrible, oh my, oh my!"

My mother’s intuition immediately went into overdrive. I had what they call "a lightbulb moment!" I looked into Nanny’s room, yes, four P.M. said the clock, and I knew then what had happened. While trying to reassure a distressed Nanny I quickly opened the door to the children’s room, and there they were, peeking through the keyhole and caught in the act! Their wild laughter filled the house. I tried to settle Nanny by showing her my watch. It was just eleven forty-five A.M. But she was still in a state of shock!

I pulled the culprits out of their room, and then Nanny knew. Those two small time pranksters had set every watch and clock in the house ahead by hours, just to shock their grandmother who was always so apologetic when she slept too late.

Well, it worked!

I could no longer hold back the laughter, and neither could their father. Nanny settled down, and the three of them talked about the successful trick for the rest of the day. Nanny told all her friends, and we told our friends and it became known as one of the best capers they ever pulled. It caused so many laughs as they told how they crawled on their hands and knees around their sleeping grandmother and changed the time on the watch and clock. Even the clock in the kitchen had been changed, but I had not noticed!

Nanny was gracious, and for years after, right up until we lost her, she would talk about the day she thought she slept away, and in true grandmother style she played it up so the two scamps thought they really did a good job on that one. And they did!

The two rascals are adults now, Heather is married and is the mother of a six-year-old daughter, and John has grown into independent manhood. They both visited Shoal HarboUr this year, coming back to the same land but to a new house to visit a new Nanny and Poppy Lowe. The Nanny they teased so much, laughed with, who played endless board games with them, and tricked again and again was gone. They missed her presence and that of their Poppy. It was different for them having their parents being ‘Nanny and Poppy Lowe’ to a little girl. This Nanny Lowe lives a different lifestyle, has varied and different interests from their Nanny, and after all I am also their mother. It seemed strange but they still love Newfoundland and the familiar little community of Shoal HarboUr.

I am certain, even as we sat and talked about their visits of past years, that their minds were racing, wondering what they could engineer to outdo their past exploits, just to see how this Nanny Lowe would react!

Yes, they changed the time of Nanny’s day, but she forgave as she always did. The laughter and stories told over the years of their exploits with their grandparents are cherished, but the day they gave their Nanny the "special time" always seems to top the list.

It was a "special time" with a remarkable Nanny to a little girl and boy from Nova Scotia who conspired, and in spite of being very clever, were caught, but the punishment was only laughter.
Then there is my warm, fuzzy memory of a little girl with sparkling green eyes and a sunburned nose looking at me, at bedtime that day, and saying "Mom, today was the bestest fun of all with Nanny wasn’t it?"

I had to agree.

Nanny Lowe Number Two!

Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe

  Submitted By: Bonnie Jarvis-Lowe