Biography

 I love to read. What other activity provides you with adventure, knowledge, travel, personal interaction, and the ability to know other people?

When I was a child the town we lived in had library. Each person in my family had a library card. We all checked out 3 books at a time because that was the limit. Sometimes we went a couple of times a week.

Eventually we read all the books in the library. I did not read them all because not all were age appropriate. But as a family we read them all.

Periodically the library would order new books. When they were delivered the librarian would call us to let us know. We read all those new books before most people knew they were available.

I read Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys. I read almost anything I could get my hands on.

I do not want it to sound like we stayed in the house all the time. We were normal active children. But we all loved to read.

I still do. For the last few years my passion is biographies. I really enjoy knowing what people felt about the times they lived. I have learned why our country was founded. I have learned about the reasons for our Civil War from both sides. 

So read a book. If you want to go to Rome a book will take you there and show you the sights. What an adventure.

Wacky Weather

 We have all been commenting on how strange the weather has been this year.  Not all the time is it happy news.

A few days ago it was raining when I got up. Soon after it was sunny and warmer. After some time the wind picked up and the sky was overcast. Then it began to rain. Along came pea-sized hail. The hail lasted for quite a bit longer than usual. It turned to sleet which I found interesting. My son opened the door to let the dog out and it was snowing!

When the snow ended the sun came out again. How nice. It did not last long. The same cycle of wind, rain, hail, sleet, snow, and repeated two more times. It was strange indeed.

I live near the Missouri River. Its levels are high but not flood stage. On the other side of the state is the Mississippi River. It is flooding with a vengeance. Both rivers have their beginnings north of here. Strange.

I hope your weather has been kind to you.

It Is New

 We have been remodeling our house. I told you about my son rebuilding the bathroom. They did a better job than I thought possible.

We painted the bathroom white. It had been an awful green and a stark flat blue. When we were through the white was a bit stark. Then we put wallpaper on the door that looks like steps leading to the clouds. It provided the necessary color and a bit of whimsy.

Our living room now is papered with stone looking paper. I was not sure I would like it but it has a nice warm feel. We left the large dark wood molding that goes well with the stones. It is completed by adding new carpeting that adds to the warmth of the room. I love it.

Next we painted the hall. Two coats of off-white gave me the feeling of light in the otherwise dark hall. My son changed the wall light from a hurricane style to a modern flat light that actually gives more light to the hall. Then just for fun we papered two false windows on the walls for depth. There are three doors to bedrooms. They are now papered with various outdoor themes. 

My room has a garden archway leading into a magical forested area. The other two doors have wooden hanging bridges leading to two different wooded places. They are fun and for our eyes only.

Now we have begun on the kitchen. We bought new appliances last year. The first thing is to refinish the counter tops. I am shocked at how easy it is. The first counter will be finished in the morning. Then it will have to dry. It looks good already. 

They will be white. Then the cupboards will be a medium gray. The floors will be a slate color.

My son wants a rock look for his room. He likes feeling like he is in a cave. I have not decided yet what to do with my room. I find an idea and then change it the next day. Mom always said I was a flibberty-gibbet.

Let It Blow Let It Blow

My boss finally took a vacation!

He had hired in at the small factory when he was too young to work in many other places. As soon as he was old enough family members got him into one of the car companies.

He did not like the work. It was terribly boring to stand in one spot for hours and do the same small task over and over.

He began to stop at the bar with other workers after work. Some of those workers were family members. Many had drinking problems that affected their home lives. He watched as several of them drank on the job. Some were hurt. There were even whiskey bottles hidden in the new car seats,

He realized he was drinking too much and too regularly. He quit his job and went back to his original job.

Through the years he advanced with the company. He became supervisor of one area.

When I applied to work there I was hired by a different supervisor. He was a very nice man. I enjoyed working there.

When the nice man retired Ken was made supervisor of our area.  

Ken had a family. He had never taken a vacation. I do not think he liked the work as much as he was afraid someone would see that another person could do his job.

One year his family talked him into going to Disney World in Florida for a week. He was not keen on going but at the same time he was looking forward to it.

We expected him at work the following week to tell us about the fun they had. When he did not come in we thought maybe he decided to stay for another week.

He came to work in the middle of the week.

Florida had suffered a hurricane. My boss and his family had been trapped in their motel room. 

He told us that the whole place shook. He thought they were all going to die. He was white as a sheet just telling us about it.

And he declared that he would never take another vacation.

Memories Of The Farm

I told you before about milking the cows. Grandpa sold most of the milk to a large company. Therefore everything surrounding the process had to be completely clean. Often we would be given a scrub brush and cleaning solution and the hose to scrub the buckets. Besides cleaning the buckets we could not leave any trace of milk in the seams. It was hard work.

One day I had been teasing one of my uncles mercilessly. I had several aunts and uncles who were not much older than me. Anyway I was in the kitchen with the buckets of milk. Mu ncle came through the door with steam coming out of his ears. He was looking for me.

I saw how angry he was so I began backing slowly away from him. He kept advancing in a menacing way. As I backed up I suddenly felt a milk bucket with the back of my legs. Too late! I sat right into the bucket that was full of milk.

Grandpa was furious. It is the only time I remember him being mad at me. I was banished from the kitchen for the day. The milk went to the hogs.

Grandpa had in his younger days been a cowboy. Yes. A real life cowboy. They lived on the range taking care of the cattle in Montana. On occasion he would have the opportunity to ride his horse to town. It was a three day round trip. He stopped at the Indian (that's what they were called then.) camp. They would feed him. Then he would get back on his horse and continue on his way.

Late one night he was riding his horse. He saw two glowing eyes ahead. He pulled out his rifle and shot. He killed a bobcat that was waiting to attack. When he could he had that thing stuffed. I was terrified of that thing.

Grandpa played all sorts of stringed instruments... guitar, banjo, and fiddle among them. Grandma played the piano. They used to play for barn dances. When Grandpa's arthritis crippled his fingers they stopped playing.

Grandma had her stories too. Once when Grandpa had gone to town she awoke in the middle of the night to commotion in the barnyard. A coyote was trying to catch its meal. Grandma grabbed the shotgun and rushed out. She had never shot a gun before and a shotgun has a powerful backlash. She held the gun out in front of her and pulled both triggers. It kicked back and hit her in the mouth knocking out her two top teeth.

There was a cow with a gas problem. She always told me the cow could not belch. My youngest sister says the other end was the problem. Grandpa knew like most old farmers where to stick in his pocketknife to release the pocket of air and give the cow some relief. Grandpa had gone to town.

Grandma could not stand hearing the cow bawling in pain anymore. Even if she knew how to stick the cow she did not have the strength. She took a pitchfork handle and shoved it into the end that had the problem. The air was expelled! My mother said the whole farm stunk for days.

It was great fun to have Sunday dinner outside at the picnic table. Grandma would fry chickens and we would have all the 'fixins".  When aunts, uncles, and cousins came it was even more fun.

 One summer my aunt and her family came to visit from West Virginia. Those are the only cousins my age. I was about six months old as was one of my cousins. We were both teething so we were each given a dill pickle to chew on. We loved them and ate a whole quart of them.

On Easter the Easter Bunny left us baskets of candy and hid the eggs we had colored at home. After we collected all of them and had breakfast we loaded the car and went to the farm. Another aunt lived fairly close so her family came to the farm too. They brought their eggs and of course Grandma had a bunch. We would re-hide them and hunt for them all day.

On rainy days we went to the attic. At the top of the stairs sat that atrocious bobcat. If it was Easter and we were hiding eggs someone always put one in the bobcat's mouth.

The attic was a treasure trove. My mother and her sisters used to make paper dolls from models in the catalogue. Then they would find clothes with a similar pose. They made clothes for the dolls with those. clothes. There was a shoebox full of them. It was such fun.

The attic was where the black walnuts from the tree on the way to the pasture were kept. We cracked them open on a thick piece of metal with a hammer that was there just for the walnuts.

For many years electricity was not available on the farm. At night the house was lit with kerosene lamps like you sometimes see on television. Of course we went to bed quite early. Up early in the morning was a farmer's way pf life.

On Saturdays my uncles would hook up the crystal radio. A wire hooked into the wire of the screen door served as the antenna. We would listen to baseball and cheer for the team we wanted to win.

And there was no indoor plumbing. As I have made clear many times I hate having to use an outhouse. On the farm the outhouse had three holes plus a short one at the side for little ones. Grandma did not buy toilet paper. A page from the mail order catalogue was used.  I do not miss that at all.

I have so many happy memories of the farm and my grandparents. I almost hate to end this but it is time.

Back To The Farm

 As I mentioned in the last post Grandpa loved his horses. Because we now lived in a mechanized age the horses did not have to pull plows or hard labor like that. Most of the time they were used to bring the cows back from the pasture for milking.

The horses were also for enjoyment. We learned to ride on the farm. Most of us grandchildren learned on Bird. Bird was unusual because she was known to be cantankerous. But she could tell when we were just children and she was gentle and patient with us.

Bird was born the same year as my mother so she was not young. Still she had the energy and sense of humor to play tricks on older riders. One of her favorites was to swell her stomach as the cinch was being tightened to hold the saddle securely. Once the rider was in the saddle Bird would breathe normally. Then on the way to the pasture she would purposely run under a low-hanging branch causing the rider to lean to the side to prevent being whomped in the face. The saddle would shift and the rider would end up on the ground. She only did this to experienced riders.

We loved it when we were allowed to bring in the cattle. It meant a long ride on the horse. We could also go faster than the pleasant stroll around the corrall.  What a great ride.

Someone owned an old Model A Ford car. If it were raining my uncles preferred taking the car to get the cows so they (my uncles) would not get all wet. If they were in the mood they would let us ride along. My Uncle Donnie was a bit of a daredevil and drove very fast.

One day we were coming in after driving the cars and Donnie was going too fast. We went around the corner on two wheels. Of course we loved it. Today I wonder how any of us made it to adulthood.

Behind the farmhouse was a windbreak of cedar trees. Cedar trees' lower branches are close to the ground. We would each choose a tree to make a house. It was even better than the manure pile.

In front of the house was a mulberry bush. Grandpa hated the mulberry trees that grew everywhere. When a mulberry tree grew in the yard he cut it down. Then to make sure it would not grow back he chopped the stump into a million pieces. As if that was not enough he covered it with lye to kill the roots. Eventually it grew back as a bush and gave us nice large juicy mulberries. 

There were mulberry trees all over the farm. We happily climbed the trees and picked as many as possible. We made whipped cream and covered the berries for a luscious treat.

There were other trees as well. My favorite was the black walnut tree at one corner of the dogleg that led to the pasture. We gathered them to use especially at Christmastime.

Grandpa had lots of farm equipment. We were not allowed to ride on any of it for safety reasons. We could play on some of it when it was not being used. We had some glorious imaginary races on the tractors.

Grandma was the best cook I knew. She used an old wood stove. Her water came from a pump outside. Every morning she baked fresh bread. If she made pancakes for breakfast she made her own syrup. I do not even like pancakes but I always hoped for leftovers so we could cover them in sugar and roll them like cigars. Great treat for the middle of the morning.

After milking was finished for the day all the pails were brought into the kitchen. The separator was made ready. Milk was poured into the separator. We watched with excitement as the cream was separated from the milk. If we were lucky we could catch a bit of cream on a slice of Grandma's bread. After spreading the cream evenly we sprinkled sugar over the top. It was the best treat ever.

Once again it is too long and I have so much more to tell. Until next time.

Being On The Farm

 I had my own amusement park when I was a child. It was my grandparents' farm. Want to know more? Read on.

In one outbuilding Grandpa kept small equipment. Scythes, axes, rakes, shovels, hoes and things like that hung on the walls. Of course I was not allowed to mess with those. But they needed to be kept sharp and Grandpa had a sharpening wheel for that. It was a giant wheel that was approximately 3 1/2 feet in diameter set so it could turn on a contraption much like a bicycle. I would pretend to ride that thing for hours. I rode all over the world in that little shed.

I loved the barn. On one side was the tack for the horses. Bridles and saddles were safely hung in their places on the walls. All sorts of other equipment for the horses were stored there. Grandpa loved his horses. Not much to play with in this room but it had ladder-type stairs that led to the second story. 

We called it the hay mow but I have since heard it as the loft. That is where bales of hay are stored. The hay is used to feed the livestock and needed to be dry. Sometimes small amounts of grain like corn or wheat were kept there too. We would sit on the bales and tell stories or even just read for a while. Sometimes we would re-arrange the bales and make forts or houses to play in.

Big doors at the front of the hay mow opened over the pen the cows came to before entering their part of the barn to be milked. Hanging in the center of the door was a pulley with a long rope looped through it. Grandpa and my uncles used it to pull the bales of hay up for storage. I was not allowed near the rope. Every once in a while I would watch with envy as an uncle would hold onto the rope and lower himself from the hay mow.

The other half of the barn was the milking area. No machine milking on the farm. Grandpa and my uncles did it. This part of the barn was immaculate. Grandpa sold most of the milk. The floor in this part of the barn was concrete. (Easy to clean.) There was a trough behind the cows who were inconsiderate enough to eliminate themselves while in milking position.  The cows' heads were moved into stanchions and a board moved so they were unable to back out until released

We were not allowed close to the cows because they tend to be a bit testy while being milked. Instead we stood against the far wall to watch. If Grandpa or an uncle was in the mood they would squirt a stream of milk our way for us to catch in our mouths. It was exciting.

The pen the animals came to before milking had a big water trough. It held enough water for us to wade in on hot days. We had to be careful because there were sharp edges of rust and other buildup from age. At one end of the trough was the windmill. It was used to pump water into the trough. There is an art to controlling the windmill to protect it from high winds and to direct it so wind would provide the optimal amount of energy to make the pump work.

At one corner of the pen was a huge manure pile. Manure was used as fertilizer so it was saved. This pile had been there for a long time. We decided to make use of it. We dug out a cave that we used for a playhouse. It was cool in the summer and warm in the winter. After some time manure no longer stinks. It was a fun place to play.

This is quite long so I will regale you of more glories of the farm next time.