There’s not a whole lot to offer them by way of video arcades, play lands or pools. No big-screen movies, Imax theatres or waterslide adventures.

In fact, a quick glance may tell you that there is precious little for them to do out here in our humble little town.

At this time of the year, the rink ice is in puddles, the outdoor pool is covered in icebergs and the golf course is submerged in water.

One may assume that my urban niece and nephew, aged six and 10, may not even want to come out to this barren landscape devoid of flashing lights, chlorinated water and a toy with every meal.

Ah, but you’ve forgotten about the pail.

You see, we have the deluxe four-litre ice cream pail out here in hinterland. The lightweight pail fits well over bicycle handlebars, is wonderfully waterproof and has a convenient handle that is easy to hold. Because of its plastic composition, it rinses off easily, can be bumped and squished, and can hold a variety of wet, dry and breathing objects. Its lid is ideal for all types of frisbee-related sports and is also perfectly suited for keeping toads, minnows and spiders securely inside the pail’s plastic walls.

And so it was last weekend, that our grand golf course adventure started with a pail. My nine-year-old and his 10-year-old cousin found the pail waiting patiently for them in the garage. It was a rather ordinary pail, as ice cream pails go - clear body, with a white lid. But it was what lived in the minds of those two little boys, the country mouse and his city cousin, that made it magical.

Throwing on their rubber boots and dangling the pail over their bicycle bars, they headed out of town to the golf course (which was fully submerged in water, as previously mentioned). It was with visions of tadpoles a swimmin’, frogs a leapin’ and snakes a crawlin’ that they anxiously pedaled the half-mile out of town. My niece couldn’t resist tagging along (not to mention that their aunt had been itching all month to muck around in those puddles as well).

And so it was that the four of us and our pail arrived at the hilly golf course. We immediately gravitated to the large and expansive pond which had formed at the bottom of the course. The pail was quickly submerged and filled and dumped and filled again. And so it was, that we all progressed a ‘little bit’ deeper into the giant puddle each time the pail came up devoid of living creatures.

One step further, two steps further until one boot was full, then two, three, four, five, six, seven and … ‘eight boots full’. Well, we were wet already, so we may as well try to get right to the centre of the pond. At least, that’s my motto in life: ‘If you’re not soaked, you haven’t tried hard enough.’

Ten steps, 20 steps and the boys were up to their thighs. Thirty steps, 40 steps and the kids began giving me that, ‘can-we-please-just-lay-down-and-swim-already’ look? Well, that’s my interpretation of ‘the look’, but keep in mind that my life’s motto does revolve around water.

Now, you must not tell the mother of these children what happened next. And, please do not take this article to her desk if you happen to be her co-worker.

But, because it was too early to find creatures for the pail, we ended up having to entertain ourselves - we really had no choice Bev, really - no choice.

So, the kids stripped off their t-shirts and pants and had a little golf-course swim. Then we discovered a lovely ‘au natural’ waterslide running down the side of the hill. So, they slid down the slick grass on their backsides and giggled all the way down to the cold spring pond waiting for them at the bottom.

After a few hours of complete and utter springtime bliss, we dumped our boots, rung out our clothes, hung the empty pail on the handlebars and headed back to town.

“There’s such fun stuff to do at your house aunty,” said my adorable niece.

Yes, dear Gracey there is … all you really need is an ice cream pail.