When we were around 11 or 12 there wasn't much that could surprise, scare us, ya. On our way home after the Gazettes, it was still pretty quiet and every once in a while, this old woman who lived southward on Devonshire in the bush, would be headed home. Once or twice a month we would observe her drunk and very haggard looking (her face like a torn boot and fried running shoe combined).
This isn't what was the jaw dropper though. It was her ability to tinkle. When nature called, there was a sudden lurch to a halt, semi-curtsy type squat, then tinklage. For sure she wasn't running any undies to be able to do this - how talented!
We found out from others that she was a race horse fan. When she won it was a taxi home, but on losing nights it was walk all the way from Blue Bonnets via Jacques Cartier Bridge. Once in a while when we saw her during the day going somewhere, five or six of us would line up our bikes like at the track and somebody would ring their bell and yell "they're off" just as she came to our line up.
Race horse Annie was often seen carrying groceries out of their place in the bush to sell or barter for smokes and or beer. Perhaps 10 years later when I first started running the roads with Margaret, her mother who knew race horse Annie said how UNO who, Richie, Stevie, Fig et al would ding ding ding and they're off which Race Horse Annie thought quite funny.
The lesson learned back then - On a dry day don't drive through any puddles on the sidewalk along Devonshire Road.Richard W......
I guessed I missed some things on Devonshire