All Our Born Days Doris Calder has captured the Kingston Peninsula with some stories of life in days gone by By Ruby M. Cusack Doris Calder's book features picture and stories of the Kingston Peninsula. Even though the temperature was way below zero, nothing was going to stop us from going skating on this Friday night. Through the field we trudged with Cliff pulling the hand sled loaded with shovel, broom and firewood while I carried the skates and newspapers. Upon reaching the pond, which was actually an overflowed ditch, we met our friends from the Richard, Morrison, Smith and Wagner families, who had walked through the woods carrying their skates and shovels.
Many hands make light work and the snow was soon cleared from the patch of ice.
The blazing fire warmed our fingers and toes as we laced our skates. Now if we had only lived on the Kingston Peninsula, probably the adults would have been joining us. Each skate had a long steel blade fitted into a wooden top like a bob skate, and a pair of leather straps to fasten to the wearer's boots. The skate was unlikely to cramp the ankles and, therefore in those days, 100-mile journeys on skates were common. Hugh McCormick practised skating on the wide stretches of the Kennebecasis and the Saint John River.