Over at Harvey’s, much of the work of course was taking care of the animals but our initial job was settling in. Many of the items from the second caravan didn’t go into the house, but instead, went into Larry’s tool shed. It was a real roomy one with a nice shop. Larry even had an acetylene torch and a welder, the latter however would take a large draw of electricity to operate, but we still had fuel to make some if a dire need arose. Everyone else’s tools were housed there too, including every lawn or gardening tool that wasn’t being regularly used in the livestock operation. All the other things we brought from home, the hardware and building materials, found a spot in the shed. Dad just hoped they would be useful one day.
Dad made a sign and hung it on the tool shed door.
Anyone - may use these tools
Someone - might break them
Everyone - must return them regardless of condition
No one - shall be irresponsible concerning this matter
Behind the shop all the vehicles were parked in a nice row. There were all kinds: pick-ups, SUV’s, pleasure cars, sport cars, all-wheel drives: seventeen of them in all, not counting farm trucks, tractors, combine and backhoe. Dad, Harvey, Joe, and Jeremiah issued strict orders on their use, that is they would only be used if deemed necessary. Collectively their fuel tanks held a lot of gasoline that might be needed one day.
After taking care of the livestock, much of the work the first couple of days centered on Harvey’s butcher house. It was much more extensive than the one we had had at home. The first day we did Poppop’s and Harvey’s freezers just like we had done at home and because Harvey and Larry had made electricity a couple of times right after it had gone off, the food in there was still in good shape.
Next to Harvey’s butcher shop, he had a wood-burning outside furnace that he used to heat his home. However, it needed electricity to circulate the hot water into the house. Not a problem in August; the house was hot enough. But it had automatic electric controls on it that prevented the fire from burning too hot when the water wasn’t circulating. Dennis, from his experience with working for a HVAC contractor was able to rewire the controls to operate at 12 volts. Then he used a car battery from one of the vehicles to keep the fire burning. That at least gave us hot water to use, so Thursday we finally got around to doing some laundry. The butcher house was set up with a stove, a nice double-kettle; had plenty of room for tables, so the boys set up three long ones, at which I believe thirty people could have sat.
We couldn’t use a washing machine the way it was, but we had the kettles and tubs and we still had laundry soap, so we went at laundry. It was a good spot for that. We had plenty of rope for wash line. Clothespins were another matter; they were in short supply. Poppop liked little wood working jobs, so we put him at fabrication. It would take some time; we’d have to do with the ones we had until he could provide some. Some of the wash could be just draped over the lines and still get dry. It was a whole day affair. We certainly didn’t run out of work.
Aaron, Dennis, and Josh were the mechanical-minded ones and they were constantly pondering how to improve our lot. Eventually they rigged up some piping so that we could easily use the hot water from the stove and made our laundry work a lot easier. We still had to carry all the water over from the springhouse; we were many hands, but we also had brains.
That evening, Dad and Harvey had a pow-wow with Josh, Jake, Larry, Aaron, Dennis, Jeremiah, and Joe. I got to listen in.
Dad said, “We have a lot of challenges, but we also have a lot of skills. We have a contractor, a heating person, mechanic, farmer, and a butcher. We can get everything done. We just have to figure out a couple of things. Here are some of the challenges that Harvey and I see we need to work on:
- Heating Harvey’s house.
- Lighting. We’re making do with flashlights and candles but if there’s any way we could rig up some electrical system, it would be helpful; especially when winter comes and we need to milk and work in the dark.
- We’d like a better way to get water to this butcher house.
- We’d like to have some kind of washing machine set up.
- There’s also a challenge with the bathroom facilities; maybe some kind of showers could be set up
- INCLUDING the fact that we’re going to run out of toilet paper.
- Eventually field work will need to get done.
“Now that there are more hands,” Harvey said, “I wish we could figure out a way to harvest some of this hay that’s matured. It’s too difficult to get our livestock to some of the fields that I have on neighboring farms. And long range, we need a way to haul the liquid manure in the storage tank to the fields next year.” Up until the power went out, much of the manure from Harvey’s cows and some from the heifers was pumped into a concrete storage tank, and then later hauled out to the fields using tanker trucks. Without fuel, some other method would have to be devised to use that manure. At least now that the livestock were outside and moving from field to field the tank wasn’t getting any fuller.
Dad said, “We have a lot of stuff here, and a lot of people. It reminds me of a story I heard from a missionary one time. He was sent to Africa to help the natives and the first thing he noticed was that during the dry season, their cows had virtually nothing to eat. They just survived on brush and some dead grass. They gave very little milk during that time and some even died. However, during the rainy season, there was lush grass but it rained every
day so hay making as we know it, was almost impossible. The missionary reasoned that some of that grass could be stored as haylage. He had been told by his superiors that to solve problems, you had to use the resources that you had. He couldn’t just be ordering up a silo to store haylage or a chopper to chop it. The missionary figured that if he couldn’t build a silo up, then he
would build one down. He had plenty of labor. The natives he was serving were willing, so he had them dig a 12 foot diameter pit about 15 feet deep. They had tools to do that. They also had machetes, so the hands could harvest the grass and get it to the pit. There the older fellows chopped the grass into shorter pieces, like it should be for a silo, and threw it into the pit. When the height got close to the top, some of the children jumped and walked around on top the chopped grass to pack it. To cover the pit, they sheathed some of the long stems of grass, layered them tightly on the top then laid even more brush on top. Eventually, during the dry season they opened the pit, and after removing maybe a foot of spoilage, there was good haylage to feed their cows. The point of the story is, just like in Africa, where they had to use what was available to them, so do we.”
“So,” said Aaron, “to get the water to the butcher house from the springhouse, we need a pump. What kind of pumps are here?”
Jake said, “There are pumps on the wells now but they need electricity.”
Dennis said, “You have a milk pump on the pipeline and also a vacuum pump for the milker system. They’re electric also, unless we could convert them to mechanically driven.”
Josh said, “They’re water pumps on every vehicle we have here that don’t need electricity.”
“That’s right,” Larry said, “and also the fuel tank has a hand pump on it that doesn’t run by electricity. I also have a pump on the sprayer that’s mechanically driven.”
“Okay,” Harvey said, “you’ve gotten the idea. We have a lot of pumps that we can move water with. I think we can round up enough hose and pipe to lay to the springhouse even if we have to borrow some from the barn, but none of that’s being used anyhow, so it won’t be missed.”
Josh said, “There are disadvantages and advantages to each of those pumps and we still need an energy source to use one. I guess we either have to use a mechanically driven one, convert an electric one to mechanical or create electricity for an electric one. What are our possible energy choices?”
Jake said, “We have people and we have animals. We have limited fuel.”
“Until we learn to produce our own,” Aaron said.
“OK,” Dad said, “you guys are on a roll. We don’t have to solve this immediately. Ponder it a while and maybe some of the solutions you come up with can be used to meet some of the other challenges.”
“In the meantime,” Jake said, “couldn’t we build a little cart that two or three people can pull or push 50, 60 gallons on a trip instead of just carrying ten gallons?”
“Great idea,” Josh said, “I can start on it tomorrow. You know I think you’re the smartest brother I have.”
“I’m the only brother you have,” Jake answered.
“Once again you’re right,” Josh retorted, “astounding intelligence!” Everyone laughed. It was good; we needed things at which to laugh and fortunately, at this point we were still able to do so.
To be continued… Find out what the women are up to, next week. Mort
Wednesday, January 31, 2007
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Chapter Six - Change at the Dairy, continued
Now the watering, milking, feeding, and handling of manure could pretty well be accomplished but one tricky thing was cooling the milk. Their spring had a tremendous flow of water and had a nice springhouse. There was a constant need to bring that water to the buildings for everyone’s use, so there was traffic back and forth. The water itself in the springhouse was around 55 degrees, not as cold as milk should have been, but it only had to be kept a day. Every twelve hours, you got fresh milk. So, it only had to be cooled enough to drink or cook with and whatever wasn’t used, went to the hogs.
So, the trick was getting it into metal containers and carrying it over to the springhouse every milking. Years ago, there were cans that held 80-pounds of milk, which is roughly ten gallons. But most of those had disappeared over the years. They had been painted or otherwise decorated and were now on someone’s porch or in their antique collection. Luckily there were enough stainless steel milker buckets that the little milk that Harvey’s dozen cows produced could be kept in the cool water until we used it.
Back on our farm, Tuesday morning was quite busy. We still had the fruit and corn in the drying beds. Dad said it would take a few more hours of sunlight but our main chore was loading things to take to Harvey’s. Dad and Grandpop’s pickups were already loaded. The hay wagon next to the backdoor was getting filled. We tried only moving things of value using the same list that Dad had made for his in-laws. We did take every dresser with our drawers intact. Mom said that would save us the trouble of sorting through them. We left virtually all the other furniture in the house. Even left the computers behind; wouldn’t be much use. But we took Mom and Dad’s hard drive.
“There a lot of files and programs on there that might be useful on Larry’s computer if we ever can spare a little electricity to run it,” Mom said. Other items that we didn’t need were all put in one bedroom so they’d be out of the landlord’s way. We didn’t have to do all the loading by ourselves. Dad’s cousin, Joe, and his boys, Aaron and Dennis, arrived in Dennis’ pickup with one of Harvey’s hay wagons towing behind, so we had a lot of help to get our goods loaded. Of course, we wanted to load all the food and we had to be extremely careful with the jars that we had just canned. It was necessary that they not be jostled so that their seal wouldn’t break; they ended up in car back seats with clothing from our closets. One big item we needed to load was the piano.
“Perhaps not a necessary item,” Dad had said, “But neither Harvey nor Poppop’s house has one and I sure enjoy hearing Mel and Alyssa play the piano. Without radios and record players, I think it will be something that we will find a needed comfort item.” We had plenty of hands and room on the pickup, so we got it loaded.
So the first procession to the new home was three pickups, two hay wagons, three cars and Dad drove his vintage tractor. A Farmall model A built in 1939. We used it in the garden and I loved to ride on the back when Dad was cultivating. One day he was going to teach me to drive it. That’s if we could spare some gasoline. It was his grandfather’s and originally was used on Harvey’s farm before the farm was Harvey’s. It was going back to its original home, just like Dad was.
When we got to Harvey’s, it was a little challenging where to go with everything. My four grandparents were going to sleep in Poppop and Grandmom’s house. Dad’s brother, Jeremiah and his wife were already moved into that house. Mel and I were going to stay there with my cousins, Amy and Lynette. Dad and Mom, Josh and Jake moved into Harvey’s house where Joe and his family had already settled. Harvey had a big house. It even had an extra kitchen upstairs, one that we didn’t need to use as a kitchen but all the items we had brought from home that might be valuable one day, might be of use one day, were piled in there. Everything fit. We could organize it later. The food was stored in the downstairs kitchen, the room closest to the butcher house where the stove was.
We went back home for the second load and it was a bit more challenging. We had everything out of the house that we deemed useful and valuable but then as we rummaged through the sheds, we had to determine what could be useful at the new home as far as tools, bolts, lumber, wire, scrap metals and all those things that you can accumulate on a farm in 20 plus years. But, the men went at it, and soon the pickups and Harvey’s wagon were full again. We collected the dried fruit and corn and packaged it in freezer boxes and other small containers with tight lids that we had amassed while we were packing things from the house. We loaded the drying frame onto the hay wagon so we could use that over at Harvey’s.
When we were almost finished, Norm and Jim stopped in.
Jim said, “Our canning went real well.”
“And there was none we had to throw away,” added Norm. “But we’re still going to run out in a month or so. Do you have any advice?” he asked my dad.
“First,” Dad responded, “I’m glad you could save what you did. I suggest you put off eating anything that is canned until you absolutely need it. In the meantime eat as much fresh produce as you can scrounge. Remember you are welcome to things in the garden here. All the crops growing on this farm belong to Chester Fronheiser; you know where his main farm is don’t you?”
They nodded in agreement. “He has a few cattle and will need help taking care of them and harvesting crops without machinery. Maybe you can trade labor for some of his grain or meat if he decides to slaughter any animals. Also there are many Mennonite farms on both sides of town that have acres and acres of vegetables and some fruit. Produce that no longer has the market where it was originally intended to go. However, they’re industrious and by now have probably determined that they need to harvest and preserve as much of that produce as they can. Maybe, they could use some extra help, in return for some of that food.”
“It would be something to check out while we still have gasoline to drive over there,” Jim said.
“As benevolent minded as they are, I’m sure you’ll be able to work with one of them. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they shared their bounty even if people didn’t have much to offer in return,” Dad continued. “I just hope people don’t take advantage of them.”
“Let’s hope not,” Jim added, “Them or anyone else for that matter.”
“Check on the place here and certainly, use the water. There is wild game around. You might have to learn to trap or shoot. And don’t throw anything away. I don’t only mean food. Empty jars, bottles, cans, plastic bags, old clothing or shoes. No more store to run and get what you need. You just don’t know what you’ll be able to use one day. You know where we’ll be if you really get in a bind. We’d be glad to help you out if we can.”
“Thanks for all the help,” said Jim.
“And the advice,” added Norm, “and good luck at your new place.”
“And good luck to you, too,” we all responded.
As they left it seemed like we had everything in order and were preparing to leave when Mom exclaimed, “Hold it, we’re forgetting the chickens!”
It was no problem; there were only eight. We had a chicken roundup. One feed bag held them all. We had to leave some friends behind, almost left the cats behind. Mom had said no, but when I reminded her that there was milk to spare at Harvey’s, she relented. So on to a new place and new adventures.
Look for Chapter 7 next week… Mort
So, the trick was getting it into metal containers and carrying it over to the springhouse every milking. Years ago, there were cans that held 80-pounds of milk, which is roughly ten gallons. But most of those had disappeared over the years. They had been painted or otherwise decorated and were now on someone’s porch or in their antique collection. Luckily there were enough stainless steel milker buckets that the little milk that Harvey’s dozen cows produced could be kept in the cool water until we used it.
Back on our farm, Tuesday morning was quite busy. We still had the fruit and corn in the drying beds. Dad said it would take a few more hours of sunlight but our main chore was loading things to take to Harvey’s. Dad and Grandpop’s pickups were already loaded. The hay wagon next to the backdoor was getting filled. We tried only moving things of value using the same list that Dad had made for his in-laws. We did take every dresser with our drawers intact. Mom said that would save us the trouble of sorting through them. We left virtually all the other furniture in the house. Even left the computers behind; wouldn’t be much use. But we took Mom and Dad’s hard drive.
“There a lot of files and programs on there that might be useful on Larry’s computer if we ever can spare a little electricity to run it,” Mom said. Other items that we didn’t need were all put in one bedroom so they’d be out of the landlord’s way. We didn’t have to do all the loading by ourselves. Dad’s cousin, Joe, and his boys, Aaron and Dennis, arrived in Dennis’ pickup with one of Harvey’s hay wagons towing behind, so we had a lot of help to get our goods loaded. Of course, we wanted to load all the food and we had to be extremely careful with the jars that we had just canned. It was necessary that they not be jostled so that their seal wouldn’t break; they ended up in car back seats with clothing from our closets. One big item we needed to load was the piano.
“Perhaps not a necessary item,” Dad had said, “But neither Harvey nor Poppop’s house has one and I sure enjoy hearing Mel and Alyssa play the piano. Without radios and record players, I think it will be something that we will find a needed comfort item.” We had plenty of hands and room on the pickup, so we got it loaded.
So the first procession to the new home was three pickups, two hay wagons, three cars and Dad drove his vintage tractor. A Farmall model A built in 1939. We used it in the garden and I loved to ride on the back when Dad was cultivating. One day he was going to teach me to drive it. That’s if we could spare some gasoline. It was his grandfather’s and originally was used on Harvey’s farm before the farm was Harvey’s. It was going back to its original home, just like Dad was.
When we got to Harvey’s, it was a little challenging where to go with everything. My four grandparents were going to sleep in Poppop and Grandmom’s house. Dad’s brother, Jeremiah and his wife were already moved into that house. Mel and I were going to stay there with my cousins, Amy and Lynette. Dad and Mom, Josh and Jake moved into Harvey’s house where Joe and his family had already settled. Harvey had a big house. It even had an extra kitchen upstairs, one that we didn’t need to use as a kitchen but all the items we had brought from home that might be valuable one day, might be of use one day, were piled in there. Everything fit. We could organize it later. The food was stored in the downstairs kitchen, the room closest to the butcher house where the stove was.
We went back home for the second load and it was a bit more challenging. We had everything out of the house that we deemed useful and valuable but then as we rummaged through the sheds, we had to determine what could be useful at the new home as far as tools, bolts, lumber, wire, scrap metals and all those things that you can accumulate on a farm in 20 plus years. But, the men went at it, and soon the pickups and Harvey’s wagon were full again. We collected the dried fruit and corn and packaged it in freezer boxes and other small containers with tight lids that we had amassed while we were packing things from the house. We loaded the drying frame onto the hay wagon so we could use that over at Harvey’s.
When we were almost finished, Norm and Jim stopped in.
Jim said, “Our canning went real well.”
“And there was none we had to throw away,” added Norm. “But we’re still going to run out in a month or so. Do you have any advice?” he asked my dad.
“First,” Dad responded, “I’m glad you could save what you did. I suggest you put off eating anything that is canned until you absolutely need it. In the meantime eat as much fresh produce as you can scrounge. Remember you are welcome to things in the garden here. All the crops growing on this farm belong to Chester Fronheiser; you know where his main farm is don’t you?”
They nodded in agreement. “He has a few cattle and will need help taking care of them and harvesting crops without machinery. Maybe you can trade labor for some of his grain or meat if he decides to slaughter any animals. Also there are many Mennonite farms on both sides of town that have acres and acres of vegetables and some fruit. Produce that no longer has the market where it was originally intended to go. However, they’re industrious and by now have probably determined that they need to harvest and preserve as much of that produce as they can. Maybe, they could use some extra help, in return for some of that food.”
“It would be something to check out while we still have gasoline to drive over there,” Jim said.
“As benevolent minded as they are, I’m sure you’ll be able to work with one of them. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they shared their bounty even if people didn’t have much to offer in return,” Dad continued. “I just hope people don’t take advantage of them.”
“Let’s hope not,” Jim added, “Them or anyone else for that matter.”
“Check on the place here and certainly, use the water. There is wild game around. You might have to learn to trap or shoot. And don’t throw anything away. I don’t only mean food. Empty jars, bottles, cans, plastic bags, old clothing or shoes. No more store to run and get what you need. You just don’t know what you’ll be able to use one day. You know where we’ll be if you really get in a bind. We’d be glad to help you out if we can.”
“Thanks for all the help,” said Jim.
“And the advice,” added Norm, “and good luck at your new place.”
“And good luck to you, too,” we all responded.
As they left it seemed like we had everything in order and were preparing to leave when Mom exclaimed, “Hold it, we’re forgetting the chickens!”
It was no problem; there were only eight. We had a chicken roundup. One feed bag held them all. We had to leave some friends behind, almost left the cats behind. Mom had said no, but when I reminded her that there was milk to spare at Harvey’s, she relented. So on to a new place and new adventures.
Look for Chapter 7 next week… Mort
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Chapter Six - Change at the Dairy
Harvey’s dairy was a pretty modern dairy farm for our area. Harvey and Dad had talked over the situation several times in the months preceding the collapse. The last time a milk truck had hauled away Harvey’s milk, was two weeks before the electricity went out. Harvey hoped that at least that shipment found its way into the food supply. Right off the bat Harvey took two of his more gentle milking cows to Roger, a neighbor over the hill, who had hogs but no cows. He traded them for three dozen piglets. So any milk that wasn’t consumed or fed to the calves was fed to the pigs. Then some was poured into 30 gallon plastic barrels that Harvey had purchased dairy detergent in. Roger came periodically and took the milk, even if it had soured a little for his hogs. Still a lot of the milk produced the last fifteen days had been thrown away.
The first thing Harvey did to decrease his production thereby reducing the waste, and also decreasing the work load, was to divide his producing animals into three groups.
The first group were those animals that would be amiable to being milked by hand as Harvey knew he couldn’t make electricity forever. He only had so much fuel. He picked out a dozen cows that had good temperaments and milked easily by hand. Twelve cows gave a lot of milk; more than Harvey, his family, my grandparents, the calves and pigs could use. But he knew more people would be coming.
The second group of cows, those in late lactation, were not giving an abundant amount of milk, and could, therefore, be immediately dried off, or taken out of production. It was a difficult thing to do. They were used to being milked twice a day. What Harvey and Larry had to do was pen them where there was no water for two days. It was uncomfortable for both man and beast. The cows did a lot of bawling, but it was necessary or they would have felt much worse filling up with milk. By the time our family moved over, they had been successfully dried off, and were content.
The third group of cows were those that were still in decent production but were not the type of cows that you’d want to milk by hand. Either they were ornery or milked hard by hand because their teats were too small or the teat opening didn’t allow a good milk flow. This group Harvey put in a separate area and gave all the calves under two months old to them. The calves suckled those cows so that they didn’t have to be milked nor did they become too uncomfortable because of their udders being filled with milk. Plus the calves no longer needed to be fed by us. These calves grew terrifically on a milk diet and the cows seemed to adapt to it.
On Harvey’s dairy, water was not a problem. He had a creek running right through the middle of the farm, so the producing cows, the dry cows, the cows that were suckling calves, and the heifers all could be partitioned with access to water. Additionally, Harvey had a spring that gushed water abundantly.
“The finest water in the county,” Dad had said once. It was about 400 yards from the houses, however, so for our own use, it gave some carrying.
Feeding the cows was a bit more of a challenge. Harvey had one silo that required electricity to get the feed out. However, it was a sealed oxygen-limiting silo, so they just left it sealed.
“You never know,” Harvey had said, “Maybe one day we’ll get electricity again and we’ll be able to use that feed.”
Fortunately, much of the feed the cows were fed was stored in long plastic bag-like tubes. Larry usually used a skid loader to load the feed into a feeder wagon and with a tractor, would distribute it to all the animals on the farm. In order to save fuel, it took some adjustment on Larry’s part. Harvey, Dad, and Larry knew that the diesel fuel they had would have to be saved for the most important jobs. The one that came to mind was for the combine that was used to harvest the soybeans in fall. The second one was to save some fuel for plowing the vegetable patches next spring, possibly preparing some soil for planting this fall and finally, saving some for a backhoe that Harvey had. You just never knew when the backhoe might be needed.
Larry had to adjust to feeding his cows without using equipment. This was accomplished by moving the fences as close to the tubes of silage as they could so that the feed could simply, though it wasn’t easy, be forked or shoveled over the fence where the cows could eat it. Also, fences were rearranged so that the animals could graze in certain parts of the farm. Larry had two solar powered electric fencers. Fences with a little shocking power, which the cows had been trained to respect, kept them from wandering into the other crops. So, in addition to all the extra work milking and shoveling and forking feed, there were fences to be moved all the time. Fortunately, by the time we arrived, Dad’s brother Jeremiah, his wife, Lois, and two girls, Amy and Lynette, who was my age, had moved back to the dairy. And also Harvey’s cousin, Joe, his wife, Sandy, and their two grown boys, Aaron, and Dennis. When Dad, Jake, and Josh arrived, it really helped Larry out with all the work he needed to do to keep his animals milked and fed.
In the meantime, the crops in the field would have to wait until other things were taken care of. The soybeans and the corn were a couple of months away from harvesting. There was time to plan that, but Harvey did have many acres of hay that were difficult to harvest without using machinery. The solution was to move the fence every few days so that the cows or heifers could graze those hay fields. Again, more labor, but there were many more of us to help now. It was good, however, that the cows were outside more. Normally, during the heat of the day they would be under roof with many fans blowing on them to keep them comfortable. With no electricity it got way too hot inside of the buildings. With all the shifting around of animals on the farm, it also spread the manure around the farm saving more work. The worst situation would have been to have all the livestock at the same spot where their manure would accumulate, thus requiring tremendous amounts of labor to keep the manure hauled away.
Larry also had to feed his cows a little differently. He used to feed for peak production, formulating a ration consisting of his homegrown corn, corn silage and haylage, then adding supplements, minerals and vitamins purchased from the local feed mill. It was no longer necessary to feed such a souped-up ration; the cows produced all the milk we could use. Larry had some of the supplements on hand but the feed mill no longer had supplies available. He also stopped feeding salt to the animals, saving a couple of bags that he had on hand for our own use as it was necessary to preserve any food we would raise or butcher in the coming months.
The local feed mill was also in a predicament. Just a month earlier, Harvey had sold all his wheat harvest to the mill but since the collapse, the mill had no way of paying for the wheat nor did they have a way to sell it. Everything had come to a halt. They said they could have written checks to pay for the wheat, but those checks would have been worthless, so anyone who had brought wheat into the mill was welcome to come and retrieve it. Harvey and Larry brought a portion of their wheat, about 1,000 bushel, back to the farm. They said we could feed it to the cows if necessary. We could feed it to the few chickens that Mom had. We could sow it this fall for pasture or to harvest with the hope that until next July we’d have fuel again. Or, we could possibly use it ourselves for food.
Of course, Harvey wasn’t the only farmer to bring wheat into the mill. They had thousands of bushels of wheat plus corn and oats on hand. Not all farmers had retrieved their grain as Harvey did. Many were from neighboring counties, a much greater distance away and perhaps couldn’t spare the fuel. Or maybe they had no place to store their grain. The owners of the mill allowed those farmers as well as Harvey to take merchandise in return for their grain. Harvey brought an assortment of veterinary medicines, a selection of rubber boots, gloves, a scythe, several bags of hydrated lime and even four bags of seed corn left over from the spring planting. The owners of the feed mill said any remaining grain would be available to the local people for food as they needed it. It was dry and stored properly. They said with no electricity, they couldn’t keep the fans in the storage bins running so they would also have to be diligent about keeping insects out, a harder task with limited pesticides, but they’d do their best.
To be continued… Mort
The first thing Harvey did to decrease his production thereby reducing the waste, and also decreasing the work load, was to divide his producing animals into three groups.
The first group were those animals that would be amiable to being milked by hand as Harvey knew he couldn’t make electricity forever. He only had so much fuel. He picked out a dozen cows that had good temperaments and milked easily by hand. Twelve cows gave a lot of milk; more than Harvey, his family, my grandparents, the calves and pigs could use. But he knew more people would be coming.
The second group of cows, those in late lactation, were not giving an abundant amount of milk, and could, therefore, be immediately dried off, or taken out of production. It was a difficult thing to do. They were used to being milked twice a day. What Harvey and Larry had to do was pen them where there was no water for two days. It was uncomfortable for both man and beast. The cows did a lot of bawling, but it was necessary or they would have felt much worse filling up with milk. By the time our family moved over, they had been successfully dried off, and were content.
The third group of cows were those that were still in decent production but were not the type of cows that you’d want to milk by hand. Either they were ornery or milked hard by hand because their teats were too small or the teat opening didn’t allow a good milk flow. This group Harvey put in a separate area and gave all the calves under two months old to them. The calves suckled those cows so that they didn’t have to be milked nor did they become too uncomfortable because of their udders being filled with milk. Plus the calves no longer needed to be fed by us. These calves grew terrifically on a milk diet and the cows seemed to adapt to it.
On Harvey’s dairy, water was not a problem. He had a creek running right through the middle of the farm, so the producing cows, the dry cows, the cows that were suckling calves, and the heifers all could be partitioned with access to water. Additionally, Harvey had a spring that gushed water abundantly.
“The finest water in the county,” Dad had said once. It was about 400 yards from the houses, however, so for our own use, it gave some carrying.
Feeding the cows was a bit more of a challenge. Harvey had one silo that required electricity to get the feed out. However, it was a sealed oxygen-limiting silo, so they just left it sealed.
“You never know,” Harvey had said, “Maybe one day we’ll get electricity again and we’ll be able to use that feed.”
Fortunately, much of the feed the cows were fed was stored in long plastic bag-like tubes. Larry usually used a skid loader to load the feed into a feeder wagon and with a tractor, would distribute it to all the animals on the farm. In order to save fuel, it took some adjustment on Larry’s part. Harvey, Dad, and Larry knew that the diesel fuel they had would have to be saved for the most important jobs. The one that came to mind was for the combine that was used to harvest the soybeans in fall. The second one was to save some fuel for plowing the vegetable patches next spring, possibly preparing some soil for planting this fall and finally, saving some for a backhoe that Harvey had. You just never knew when the backhoe might be needed.
Larry had to adjust to feeding his cows without using equipment. This was accomplished by moving the fences as close to the tubes of silage as they could so that the feed could simply, though it wasn’t easy, be forked or shoveled over the fence where the cows could eat it. Also, fences were rearranged so that the animals could graze in certain parts of the farm. Larry had two solar powered electric fencers. Fences with a little shocking power, which the cows had been trained to respect, kept them from wandering into the other crops. So, in addition to all the extra work milking and shoveling and forking feed, there were fences to be moved all the time. Fortunately, by the time we arrived, Dad’s brother Jeremiah, his wife, Lois, and two girls, Amy and Lynette, who was my age, had moved back to the dairy. And also Harvey’s cousin, Joe, his wife, Sandy, and their two grown boys, Aaron, and Dennis. When Dad, Jake, and Josh arrived, it really helped Larry out with all the work he needed to do to keep his animals milked and fed.
In the meantime, the crops in the field would have to wait until other things were taken care of. The soybeans and the corn were a couple of months away from harvesting. There was time to plan that, but Harvey did have many acres of hay that were difficult to harvest without using machinery. The solution was to move the fence every few days so that the cows or heifers could graze those hay fields. Again, more labor, but there were many more of us to help now. It was good, however, that the cows were outside more. Normally, during the heat of the day they would be under roof with many fans blowing on them to keep them comfortable. With no electricity it got way too hot inside of the buildings. With all the shifting around of animals on the farm, it also spread the manure around the farm saving more work. The worst situation would have been to have all the livestock at the same spot where their manure would accumulate, thus requiring tremendous amounts of labor to keep the manure hauled away.
Larry also had to feed his cows a little differently. He used to feed for peak production, formulating a ration consisting of his homegrown corn, corn silage and haylage, then adding supplements, minerals and vitamins purchased from the local feed mill. It was no longer necessary to feed such a souped-up ration; the cows produced all the milk we could use. Larry had some of the supplements on hand but the feed mill no longer had supplies available. He also stopped feeding salt to the animals, saving a couple of bags that he had on hand for our own use as it was necessary to preserve any food we would raise or butcher in the coming months.
The local feed mill was also in a predicament. Just a month earlier, Harvey had sold all his wheat harvest to the mill but since the collapse, the mill had no way of paying for the wheat nor did they have a way to sell it. Everything had come to a halt. They said they could have written checks to pay for the wheat, but those checks would have been worthless, so anyone who had brought wheat into the mill was welcome to come and retrieve it. Harvey and Larry brought a portion of their wheat, about 1,000 bushel, back to the farm. They said we could feed it to the cows if necessary. We could feed it to the few chickens that Mom had. We could sow it this fall for pasture or to harvest with the hope that until next July we’d have fuel again. Or, we could possibly use it ourselves for food.
Of course, Harvey wasn’t the only farmer to bring wheat into the mill. They had thousands of bushels of wheat plus corn and oats on hand. Not all farmers had retrieved their grain as Harvey did. Many were from neighboring counties, a much greater distance away and perhaps couldn’t spare the fuel. Or maybe they had no place to store their grain. The owners of the mill allowed those farmers as well as Harvey to take merchandise in return for their grain. Harvey brought an assortment of veterinary medicines, a selection of rubber boots, gloves, a scythe, several bags of hydrated lime and even four bags of seed corn left over from the spring planting. The owners of the feed mill said any remaining grain would be available to the local people for food as they needed it. It was dry and stored properly. They said with no electricity, they couldn’t keep the fans in the storage bins running so they would also have to be diligent about keeping insects out, a harder task with limited pesticides, but they’d do their best.
To be continued… Mort
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Chapter Five - continued
We got a good night’s rest, got up very early. The neighbors started arriving. Josh got a fire started. The rest of us got some tables set up in the butcher house where we’d have room to work. It was a nice day, a little breeze, temperature in the 60s to start. The sun came out bright.
“Well, let’s get to work,” Dad said. Jim and Hallie had come up. Bill and Marie came down. Of course, Grandpop and Grandma were there. Dad went on, “We’ll start in the freezer in the kitchen and see how that food is.” He opened the freezer door and said, “Well, Alyssa, you were wrong on Saturday. You didn’t have your last ice cream. Here’s a full half gallon, a little soft, but it will be a treat this afternoon.” He threw it into a mixing bowl. “Put it into that blue cooler, the one with the most ice; and here’s a couple of packs of hot dogs, they’re in good shape yet. They’ll keep a day or two in the cooler. Take those along.”
The next thing he found was a couple of packs of fish. He said, “I don’t have any way to keep them, so we’ll eat them today when we get a chance.” There was frozen orange juice.
Jake said, “I’ll mix that with plenty of water in that big orange water cooler and add some of that lemon juice in the cooler before it spoils. We can drink it as we work today. Might as well dump these couple of ice cubes in also.”
There was a pack of soft pretzels. Dad said, “Put that aside. We can figure out a way to heat up those for a snack.”
“That would go well with the ice cream,” Mom said.
“Yeah, that’s true,” Dad said.
Then there were a couple of boxes of raspberries. Those he gave to Marie to go out into the drying beds. “But,” he said, “no hurry with those; we’ll have some more things from the basement freezer. And then finally, there were some peppers. Those went to the butcher house to be used in some of the foods we’d be making.
When we went downstairs Dad got five boxes and labeled them: soup, dry, eat, chili, and chow-chow.
“Chow-chow,” Janice said, “what’s that?”
Janice was new to the area. The area we lived in was that part of southeastern Pennsylvania that Thomas Penn had purchased from the Indians right around 1700. It was the area bordered by the Blue Mountain on the north, the Delaware River on the east, the South Mountain which ran just beneath Allentown and Reading to the south, and the head waters of the Susquehanna tributaries to the west. It had some very fertile ground in it and another section of ridges and valleys that were farmable but somewhat hilly and a little drier, lighter soil. This area had been settled by Germans in the early 1700s and chow-chow was just one of the Pennsylvania German dishes that we ate. Simply put, it was pickled vegetables.
So we opened up the second freezer. Everything was nice and cool. Some was still a little frosty.
“Looks good,” Norm said.
Janice added, “I think our freezers will be alright when we go at it tomorrow.”
“Let’s hope so,” Jim said.
The first thing Dad grabbed was four or five loaves of bread. “Won’t spoil right away,” Mom said. “It’ll last us a while or we can share it if some of you need some.”
Dad found four packs of beef. We sent them out to Josh. He said to start boiling them in the largest canner that we have. We had one that held about twenty quarts. He also found about six pounds of hamburger. That went to the butcher house also.
He said, “I’ll show Mom what to do with that when we get out there.”
We found a few packs of sausage. Mel took that out and put it in the coolers. “That’ll last a day or two,” Mom said.
There were quite a few boxes of tomatoes. Dad split them up between the “soup” and “chili” boxes. Then he found blueberries, strawberries, and more raspberries. They all went in the “dry” box. He found peas. They went in the “soup” box. There were sugar peas. One went into the soup.
Mom said, “The rest we can eat with our meal tonight, with that fish.”
Then we found broccoli. Normally, we don’t put a lot in soup but we can’t eat it all today. So, we threw it in. We found cauliflower.
“That’s very good in vegetable soup,” Mel said. So we threw it in that box except for two packs Dad grabbed.
He said, “It’s good in chow-chow, too.”
Then, we found a couple of packs of chicken. Mom said, “We’ll cook that for our noon meal. I can use some of the corn and make soup and throw in these two packs of frozen pasta.”
Some of the remaining corn went into the “soup” box and the rest we’d have to try to dry. The last thing we found was a package of unbaked bread. Mom put the five loaves on a tray, covered it with a towel, and set the tray on a stool near the stovepipe behind the stove and out of the way.
“There it should have enough heat to make it rise, then Pop can figure out how to bake it,” Mom said. So all the things in the freezer were distributed and it was time to get to work.
Marie, Bill, Dad and I carried the fruit and the corn up to the dryer setup. We had to open every box and pour them on the screen carefully. We didn’t
want fruit all over the place. We had room for a few bags of corn and then
the screens were full. He laid the next grid overtop and then we put the glass panes on top.
He said, “You might be bored, Alyssa, but you have to keep your eye on this a little bit. We don’t want a lot of flies or birds getting after this, even though it’s protected by the glass. We’ll just let the sun do its work. Also the boxes and lids need to be washed to put the dried fruit into when it’s finished.” Oh boy, I thought, more work.
Back in the butcher house, Grandma had cut up some onions and Mom had started frying the hamburger with some onions added and some of the peppers. The beef that Josh was cooking was pretty well done. He fished it out. Grandpop and others sat at the table and de-boned it. When the chicken had been cooked, they de-boned that also.
Dad threw the soup vegetables and some of the onions into the beef broth with the tomatoes; it made the kettle pretty full when the meat was added. In the second biggest pot we had, Mom kept dumping the hamburger in as she fried it. Josh had another kettle going with the kidney beans, so as they were cooked, they were thrown in with the hamburger and tomatoes, and soon, there was a batch of chili being made.
“I still don’t remember,” Hallie said, “How to make chow-chow.”
“We’ll get there, Dad said, “But first we’d better can this hot vegetable soup and get that out of the way. What’s important in this canning process is that you get it very hot, boiling, if you can. Then carefully stirring so it doesn’t stick. The second thing is to put enough salt in, to keep it preserved.”
So he added salt to the soup. He added salt to the chili. When the soup was good and hot, we started putting it in the clean jars. It was an assembly line. Norm and Jim filled the jars and passed them to Bill and Mom who put the lids on. Janice wiped them off and Dad and Jake carried them outside where a table was set up all by itself.
Dad said, “It’s also important that once the jar lid is tightened, that you do not disturb the jars much so they can seal properly. Remember, if any of the lids don’t seal, you have to eat those in short time because the bacteria will grow and spoil the soup and make it unfit to eat.”
In due time, the vegetable soup was canned. It gave nineteen jars. By then, the chili was hot. We used the same system to jar it. It yielded eighteen jars. It gave us room on the stove. Mom’s chicken concoction was ready to eat. We had brought enough tables out to work on and now to eat on. Dad threw the soft pretzels on a cookie tray, covered it with aluminum foil and set it on top of the stove. It was around noon, so we dug in. When most of us were finished eating I went and got the ice cream. It was more like a milkshake but it tasted good, especially with some warm soft pretzels.
After lunch, Mom checked on the bread rising behind the stove and said,
“This has risen enough, but how are you going to bake it?”
Dad said, “I’ll use a grate from the kitchen oven, lay it on top of the stove plate, and place the bread on the grate, and cover it with the lid of the big roasting pan that we have. It should work like an oven as Josh has the fire going strong yet.” Made it pretty hot in that butcher house. Fortunately, we could have all the doors and windows open and there was a big shade tree above it and like Dad had predicted, it was a much cooler, drier day.
“Now,” Dad said, “Let’s get started at this chow-chow.” It took a few more pots. We put the vegetables in separate containers. Dad continued, “With chow-chow you have to be careful not to overcook them. You still like them a little crisp. So as all the vegetables were heated to the right tenderness, they were poured back into the large canner. In a separate pot, Dad made the broth for the chow-chow. It was two parts water to two parts sugar to three parts vinegar. He added celery seed and pepper and of course salt. When the vegetables were all cooked, the canner was placed back on the stove, the broth added, and the whole mixture brought to a boil.
We went back to the assembly line process again with one addition. Mom said, “Before you close the jar lids, you should make sure there is at least one inch of juice above the vegetables.”
Hallie said, “I think I got it now.”
Dad said, “I hope none of you have too much trouble when you try this yourself.” It gave another eighteen jars of the chow-chow.
Next, we went after the dried fruit. Must have been about three in the afternoon. “Not quite dry enough,” Dad said. “We’ll have to let the sun work on it. Some might have to finish tomorrow. In the meantime, let’s get the containers with tight lids ready.”
“While we’re waiting,” Dad said, “I have some announcements to make. First of all, I’d like to thank everyone for helping today. Please take a couple of jars of your labor home with you. I wish you luck with emptying your freezers and preserving the food. We’ll try to help as much as we can, but starting tomorrow, we’ll be moving.”
“What,” said Mel, “We’re moving?”
“Where?” Jim said.
“And why?” Marie wanted to know.
“We’re moving to the farm my parents live on, Harvey’s dairy farm,” Dad answered. “They have a good running spring and have about 130 head of cattle to care for. I’ve previously talked it out with Harvey. They have a lot of work to do and they need our help. What with taking care of my parents and all the cattle and the crops that need harvesting. My brother, Jeremiah, and his family are already there, and Harvey’s cousin, Joe, is there, too.”
Moving, I thought to myself. This is the only place I’ve ever lived. I think Mom and Dad lived here over twenty years. But, I did miss milk and we’d have plenty of that at Harvey’s dairy. I always loved being around cows and calves. Harvey’s wife Jean and I were good friends and I loved being at the farm with Poppop and Grandmom. So, I guess, we have to leave our old homestead.
Harvey Stump was Dad’s second cousin. Harvey’s father and Dad’s father farmed together until Poppop retired and Harvey’s father had passed away, then the farming had all fallen to Harvey.
“So,” Dad continued, “tomorrow will be another busy day as we start trucking things over to the dairy farm. Plus, finish up these dried fruits. We also need to empty Harvey’s and my dad’s freezer, like we did today. Harvey ran his generator a few times to help get the farm work done before the help started arriving, so the food could go a few days longer. But please,” he said to the neighbors, “Don’t hesitate to stop and ask us for help if you need it. We’ll leave you a couple screens and panes to help you dry some things. And you’re still welcome to the water here. The landlord will be moving here in a few days. He lives in town; limited water supply. I think he, his daughter, and son-in-law will be moving in here. And, by the way, don’t hesitate to check on my garden. Keep picking the vegetables as they ripen. You’re welcome to them. However, the top three rows are shell beans. Don’t worry about those. Let them dry on the stalk. That way, they’ll keep through the winter and could possibly be used for seed next spring. It doesn’t matter if they turn brown. We’ll stop back and check on them every week or so. Again, I need to thank everybody for the help today.”
We all said our goodbyes although we’d probably still see each other over the next couple days.
“I’m going to miss you,” Marie said as she gave me a big hug and fought off tears.
I didn’t fight them off as easily. I sobbed, told her I’d miss her too. Then I thought a bit and said, “But we’re not moving to Ohio. We’ll only be five miles away. Our bicycles travel that far. Don’t worry; we’ll get to see each other.”
To be continued… wonder what’s going on at the new place… Mort
“Well, let’s get to work,” Dad said. Jim and Hallie had come up. Bill and Marie came down. Of course, Grandpop and Grandma were there. Dad went on, “We’ll start in the freezer in the kitchen and see how that food is.” He opened the freezer door and said, “Well, Alyssa, you were wrong on Saturday. You didn’t have your last ice cream. Here’s a full half gallon, a little soft, but it will be a treat this afternoon.” He threw it into a mixing bowl. “Put it into that blue cooler, the one with the most ice; and here’s a couple of packs of hot dogs, they’re in good shape yet. They’ll keep a day or two in the cooler. Take those along.”
The next thing he found was a couple of packs of fish. He said, “I don’t have any way to keep them, so we’ll eat them today when we get a chance.” There was frozen orange juice.
Jake said, “I’ll mix that with plenty of water in that big orange water cooler and add some of that lemon juice in the cooler before it spoils. We can drink it as we work today. Might as well dump these couple of ice cubes in also.”
There was a pack of soft pretzels. Dad said, “Put that aside. We can figure out a way to heat up those for a snack.”
“That would go well with the ice cream,” Mom said.
“Yeah, that’s true,” Dad said.
Then there were a couple of boxes of raspberries. Those he gave to Marie to go out into the drying beds. “But,” he said, “no hurry with those; we’ll have some more things from the basement freezer. And then finally, there were some peppers. Those went to the butcher house to be used in some of the foods we’d be making.
When we went downstairs Dad got five boxes and labeled them: soup, dry, eat, chili, and chow-chow.
“Chow-chow,” Janice said, “what’s that?”
Janice was new to the area. The area we lived in was that part of southeastern Pennsylvania that Thomas Penn had purchased from the Indians right around 1700. It was the area bordered by the Blue Mountain on the north, the Delaware River on the east, the South Mountain which ran just beneath Allentown and Reading to the south, and the head waters of the Susquehanna tributaries to the west. It had some very fertile ground in it and another section of ridges and valleys that were farmable but somewhat hilly and a little drier, lighter soil. This area had been settled by Germans in the early 1700s and chow-chow was just one of the Pennsylvania German dishes that we ate. Simply put, it was pickled vegetables.
So we opened up the second freezer. Everything was nice and cool. Some was still a little frosty.
“Looks good,” Norm said.
Janice added, “I think our freezers will be alright when we go at it tomorrow.”
“Let’s hope so,” Jim said.
The first thing Dad grabbed was four or five loaves of bread. “Won’t spoil right away,” Mom said. “It’ll last us a while or we can share it if some of you need some.”
Dad found four packs of beef. We sent them out to Josh. He said to start boiling them in the largest canner that we have. We had one that held about twenty quarts. He also found about six pounds of hamburger. That went to the butcher house also.
He said, “I’ll show Mom what to do with that when we get out there.”
We found a few packs of sausage. Mel took that out and put it in the coolers. “That’ll last a day or two,” Mom said.
There were quite a few boxes of tomatoes. Dad split them up between the “soup” and “chili” boxes. Then he found blueberries, strawberries, and more raspberries. They all went in the “dry” box. He found peas. They went in the “soup” box. There were sugar peas. One went into the soup.
Mom said, “The rest we can eat with our meal tonight, with that fish.”
Then we found broccoli. Normally, we don’t put a lot in soup but we can’t eat it all today. So, we threw it in. We found cauliflower.
“That’s very good in vegetable soup,” Mel said. So we threw it in that box except for two packs Dad grabbed.
He said, “It’s good in chow-chow, too.”
Then, we found a couple of packs of chicken. Mom said, “We’ll cook that for our noon meal. I can use some of the corn and make soup and throw in these two packs of frozen pasta.”
Some of the remaining corn went into the “soup” box and the rest we’d have to try to dry. The last thing we found was a package of unbaked bread. Mom put the five loaves on a tray, covered it with a towel, and set the tray on a stool near the stovepipe behind the stove and out of the way.
“There it should have enough heat to make it rise, then Pop can figure out how to bake it,” Mom said. So all the things in the freezer were distributed and it was time to get to work.
Marie, Bill, Dad and I carried the fruit and the corn up to the dryer setup. We had to open every box and pour them on the screen carefully. We didn’t
want fruit all over the place. We had room for a few bags of corn and then
the screens were full. He laid the next grid overtop and then we put the glass panes on top.
He said, “You might be bored, Alyssa, but you have to keep your eye on this a little bit. We don’t want a lot of flies or birds getting after this, even though it’s protected by the glass. We’ll just let the sun do its work. Also the boxes and lids need to be washed to put the dried fruit into when it’s finished.” Oh boy, I thought, more work.
Back in the butcher house, Grandma had cut up some onions and Mom had started frying the hamburger with some onions added and some of the peppers. The beef that Josh was cooking was pretty well done. He fished it out. Grandpop and others sat at the table and de-boned it. When the chicken had been cooked, they de-boned that also.
Dad threw the soup vegetables and some of the onions into the beef broth with the tomatoes; it made the kettle pretty full when the meat was added. In the second biggest pot we had, Mom kept dumping the hamburger in as she fried it. Josh had another kettle going with the kidney beans, so as they were cooked, they were thrown in with the hamburger and tomatoes, and soon, there was a batch of chili being made.
“I still don’t remember,” Hallie said, “How to make chow-chow.”
“We’ll get there, Dad said, “But first we’d better can this hot vegetable soup and get that out of the way. What’s important in this canning process is that you get it very hot, boiling, if you can. Then carefully stirring so it doesn’t stick. The second thing is to put enough salt in, to keep it preserved.”
So he added salt to the soup. He added salt to the chili. When the soup was good and hot, we started putting it in the clean jars. It was an assembly line. Norm and Jim filled the jars and passed them to Bill and Mom who put the lids on. Janice wiped them off and Dad and Jake carried them outside where a table was set up all by itself.
Dad said, “It’s also important that once the jar lid is tightened, that you do not disturb the jars much so they can seal properly. Remember, if any of the lids don’t seal, you have to eat those in short time because the bacteria will grow and spoil the soup and make it unfit to eat.”
In due time, the vegetable soup was canned. It gave nineteen jars. By then, the chili was hot. We used the same system to jar it. It yielded eighteen jars. It gave us room on the stove. Mom’s chicken concoction was ready to eat. We had brought enough tables out to work on and now to eat on. Dad threw the soft pretzels on a cookie tray, covered it with aluminum foil and set it on top of the stove. It was around noon, so we dug in. When most of us were finished eating I went and got the ice cream. It was more like a milkshake but it tasted good, especially with some warm soft pretzels.
After lunch, Mom checked on the bread rising behind the stove and said,
“This has risen enough, but how are you going to bake it?”
Dad said, “I’ll use a grate from the kitchen oven, lay it on top of the stove plate, and place the bread on the grate, and cover it with the lid of the big roasting pan that we have. It should work like an oven as Josh has the fire going strong yet.” Made it pretty hot in that butcher house. Fortunately, we could have all the doors and windows open and there was a big shade tree above it and like Dad had predicted, it was a much cooler, drier day.
“Now,” Dad said, “Let’s get started at this chow-chow.” It took a few more pots. We put the vegetables in separate containers. Dad continued, “With chow-chow you have to be careful not to overcook them. You still like them a little crisp. So as all the vegetables were heated to the right tenderness, they were poured back into the large canner. In a separate pot, Dad made the broth for the chow-chow. It was two parts water to two parts sugar to three parts vinegar. He added celery seed and pepper and of course salt. When the vegetables were all cooked, the canner was placed back on the stove, the broth added, and the whole mixture brought to a boil.
We went back to the assembly line process again with one addition. Mom said, “Before you close the jar lids, you should make sure there is at least one inch of juice above the vegetables.”
Hallie said, “I think I got it now.”
Dad said, “I hope none of you have too much trouble when you try this yourself.” It gave another eighteen jars of the chow-chow.
Next, we went after the dried fruit. Must have been about three in the afternoon. “Not quite dry enough,” Dad said. “We’ll have to let the sun work on it. Some might have to finish tomorrow. In the meantime, let’s get the containers with tight lids ready.”
“While we’re waiting,” Dad said, “I have some announcements to make. First of all, I’d like to thank everyone for helping today. Please take a couple of jars of your labor home with you. I wish you luck with emptying your freezers and preserving the food. We’ll try to help as much as we can, but starting tomorrow, we’ll be moving.”
“What,” said Mel, “We’re moving?”
“Where?” Jim said.
“And why?” Marie wanted to know.
“We’re moving to the farm my parents live on, Harvey’s dairy farm,” Dad answered. “They have a good running spring and have about 130 head of cattle to care for. I’ve previously talked it out with Harvey. They have a lot of work to do and they need our help. What with taking care of my parents and all the cattle and the crops that need harvesting. My brother, Jeremiah, and his family are already there, and Harvey’s cousin, Joe, is there, too.”
Moving, I thought to myself. This is the only place I’ve ever lived. I think Mom and Dad lived here over twenty years. But, I did miss milk and we’d have plenty of that at Harvey’s dairy. I always loved being around cows and calves. Harvey’s wife Jean and I were good friends and I loved being at the farm with Poppop and Grandmom. So, I guess, we have to leave our old homestead.
Harvey Stump was Dad’s second cousin. Harvey’s father and Dad’s father farmed together until Poppop retired and Harvey’s father had passed away, then the farming had all fallen to Harvey.
“So,” Dad continued, “tomorrow will be another busy day as we start trucking things over to the dairy farm. Plus, finish up these dried fruits. We also need to empty Harvey’s and my dad’s freezer, like we did today. Harvey ran his generator a few times to help get the farm work done before the help started arriving, so the food could go a few days longer. But please,” he said to the neighbors, “Don’t hesitate to stop and ask us for help if you need it. We’ll leave you a couple screens and panes to help you dry some things. And you’re still welcome to the water here. The landlord will be moving here in a few days. He lives in town; limited water supply. I think he, his daughter, and son-in-law will be moving in here. And, by the way, don’t hesitate to check on my garden. Keep picking the vegetables as they ripen. You’re welcome to them. However, the top three rows are shell beans. Don’t worry about those. Let them dry on the stalk. That way, they’ll keep through the winter and could possibly be used for seed next spring. It doesn’t matter if they turn brown. We’ll stop back and check on them every week or so. Again, I need to thank everybody for the help today.”
We all said our goodbyes although we’d probably still see each other over the next couple days.
“I’m going to miss you,” Marie said as she gave me a big hug and fought off tears.
I didn’t fight them off as easily. I sobbed, told her I’d miss her too. Then I thought a bit and said, “But we’re not moving to Ohio. We’ll only be five miles away. Our bicycles travel that far. Don’t worry; we’ll get to see each other.”
To be continued… wonder what’s going on at the new place… Mort
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
Chapter Five - Calculated Moves
The sun woke before we did on Sunday morning. No matter, we had enough time to get everything done that needed to be done. Only a little water to carry. It was a hazy morning, still kind of sticky, but Josh got the fire started anyway. When the stove was good and hot, Mom made eggs. They had brought bacon yesterday from Grandpop so we used that up. Mel made toast on the hot stove plate, used up the oldest bread. We still had plenty of butter and jelly. No milk, though. I missed that.
I said out loud, “I wonder when I’ll be able to have Cocoa Puffs again?”
Dad answered, “Oh, that might be sooner than you think.”
We had plenty of time to get ready for the church service. I put my swim suit on under a nice loose shirt and shorts. Everyone else dressed casual.
Soon Jim, Hallie, Norm, Janice, and their children arrived with their water jugs. Hallie also had a picnic basket.
“Just some things for lunch after church,” she said.
So we all joined the procession. I took my bicycle. Dad had put a Bible and a hymnal in my saddlebags. Everyone else was on foot. Right down the middle of the road we went. No traffic to be concerned with. When we got to Marie and Bill’s, there was an interesting nice smell. Bill had started a charcoal fire.
Jim said, “Ah, there’s an interesting way to cook. Didn’t think of that one. I think I have a half a bag in my garage, too.” The others were soon there. Tom, Louisa, AnnMarie, and Jeff, Jeff’s parents, and some others I didn’t even know from the neighborhood. John was there too, with his wife, Sarah.
When everyone was there, we all sang “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands”. It went well, without hymnals, but you repeat a lot and it’s a song that even the un-churched are familiar with. Dad led us in prayer, praised God, prayed for forgiveness, and thanked Him for all the things that He does for us. We prayed especially for those people that were struggling. There certainly were many who were worse off than we were. Jim and Hallie sang a duet, “How Great Thou Art”, and then Dad got his Bible and read a scripture, Psalm 121.
“I lift up my eyes to the hills where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth.
He will not let your foot slip. He who watches over you, will not slumber.
Indeed, He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you. The Lord is your shade at your right hand.
The sun will not harm you by day nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all harm. He will watch over your life.
The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.”
Dad kept his comments short. He stressed that Jesus would take care of us and that we needed to trust in Him. To end the service, we all sang “Jesus Loves Me”.
Bill went in the house, came out with a whole box of hamburger patties. He said, “I know I shouldn’t have opened the freezer, but Marie and I really wanted to share these. We all deserve a treat today.”
Hallie said, as she grabbed her picnic basket, “I have been saving a big bag of potato chips. Don’t know when we’ll have those again.”
“And,” Marie said, “I also had good hamburger buns.”
“Well, get to work then,” said Norm. “Get those babies frying.”
Bill said, “I opened the freezer quickly. I knew where the hamburgers were, grabbed them, and closed it. And as you can see, they still have a little frost on them, not frozen solid, but still really cold, so I think the food in there will be fine for a day or two more, until we learn how to preserve it. Are you still planning on doing that tomorrow?” he asked my dad.
Dad said, “Bright and early tomorrow morning. We need to get an early start so we don’t run out of light in the evening. Like I said before, if you want to come, lend a hand, and learn, hopefully you can save some of your own food in your own home. Don’t bring any along. I’m sure we’ll find some things in the freezer that we’ll have to eat as there won’t be a good way to preserve it. So, in addition to the work tomorrow, we may also have a feast. And please, everyone bring a couple empty jars so you can each take some with you.”
While Bill threw the burgers on the grill, and the mothers were getting together the rest of the fare, some of the kids and myself got into the pool. It wasn’t even noon yet but the water was warm. It was another hot, sticky day. John left and came back several minutes later. He had a five-gallon bucket full of ice and a gallon of lemonade and a gallon of tea. He said, “As I have my freezer running, I can spare the ice and just make more. We all deserve cold drinks today.”
“Thank you very much,” Marie said. “I sure like how everybody pitched in to make this little meal for us.”
“Sure is hot,” Jim said.
“Yeah, but not as hot as last summer,” Hallie answered. “Remember last summer, some of the trouble in California, the tremendous heat? Even around here.”
“Yeah, we remember,” Norm said. “And remember all that talk about global warming, that it was our misuse of fossil fuels that caused all of that.”
“Well,” Hallie said, “Did you see that Al Gore movie about the environment?” No one had, except Hallie, I guess. She continued, “It was something. It was kind of compelling. Maybe if more people or at least people in power that would have had the foresight or capability of developing alternative energy, this collapse might have been prevented.”
Jim said, “This collapse that we just experienced could not have been prevented simply by solving our oil dependency. There were other factors that contributed, right?”
The question was directed toward my dad. He said, “Probably, there were circumstances that were already set in motion and really hard to reverse. One thing was the strain of the war with Iraq. Even though it was ending, the budgetary strain was too hard to overcome. Then adding the high cost of energy on businesses and on the government itself really put tremendous pressure on the dollar.”
Norm added, “And the fact that that our dollar wasn’t backed by anything of value like gold or silver. That had to have a lot to do with it, also, didn’t it?”
Jim said, “I’m pretty sure you’re right Norm. But the Chinese abandoning the dollar in favor of the euro had to be the final nail in the coffin.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Dad said. “Either way, now that we aren’t driving and burning fossil fuels, if Gore is right, global warming will be reversed and our summers will be cooler and wetter.”
“Yeah right, if Gore is right! I’ll believe it when I see it,” Janice added. “And our winters will be colder and snowier so we’ll have to work harder to stay warm.”
“If just working keeps us warm, no problem; we won’t run out of work to do,” Marie said.
Bill added, “So maybe a couple smart moves on the administration’s part, and I know that’s an oxymoron, could have prevented the collapse. Maybe we’ll even have our electricity back and oil available by winter.”
“There are a lot of maybes in life,” Mom said, “But we play the hand with the cards that we’re dealt. I’m tickled to death by the way we’re all cooperating and making a go of it.”
Soon the burgers were ready. Janice had a pack of cheese. Someone had brought some of Dad’s tomatoes; another had some lettuce, so we had California cheeseburgers. Didn’t remember when I had those last. The adults ate first. We got out of the pool to eat then while some of the adults took their turn and jumped in. It must have been around one PM when the sky started getting black to the west.
Jim said to my dad, “It looks like that rain you talked about is coming. We’ve got the farthest to walk, we’d better get started honey,” he said to Hallie.
“Yes, looks like you better get going,” said Marie. “Thanks for the potato chips.”
“Jim answered, “You’re welcome, and you for the burgers, and for having us here, and for the refreshing dip in the pool.”
“And,” Norm added, “For those ice cold drinks, John.”
“No problem,” answered John. “And please, let me know if anyone needs anything. I might be able to help.” As the storm clouds thickened, everyone headed out.
“See you tomorrow,” Hallie said to us as they hurried down the road.
“Bright and early,” Dad answered.
We were home before it started. I’m not sure if Hallie and Jim made it. They lived a good half-mile down the road, but soon a nice steady rain started. It lightninged and thundered some, but not too close, and it wasn’t terribly windy. Within a half an hour, it was over, and the sun shone brightly in the western sky.
Josh looked at the thermometer and said, “It’s only 72 degrees now; must have dropped twenty degrees from the storm. Nice, cool, dry air moving in.”
Just then, a pickup came up the road. It was our landlord. Dad and he talked a bit. There was a lot of motioning over at the water hydrant and the old springhouse. Then they were looking in and around a few of the sheds on the farm. Took a walk into the cellar. He gave a wave to all of us and went on his way.
“What was that all about?” Josh asked.
“We were just discussing how we could run the water into the trough in the springhouse so it would work as a cooler. Getting the water in is easy. We have plenty of hose, plastic pipe that we could rig up, but someone will have to figure out how and where the water could drain from it. Maybe you could look at it tomorrow if we get our other work finished.”
To be continued… Mort
I said out loud, “I wonder when I’ll be able to have Cocoa Puffs again?”
Dad answered, “Oh, that might be sooner than you think.”
We had plenty of time to get ready for the church service. I put my swim suit on under a nice loose shirt and shorts. Everyone else dressed casual.
Soon Jim, Hallie, Norm, Janice, and their children arrived with their water jugs. Hallie also had a picnic basket.
“Just some things for lunch after church,” she said.
So we all joined the procession. I took my bicycle. Dad had put a Bible and a hymnal in my saddlebags. Everyone else was on foot. Right down the middle of the road we went. No traffic to be concerned with. When we got to Marie and Bill’s, there was an interesting nice smell. Bill had started a charcoal fire.
Jim said, “Ah, there’s an interesting way to cook. Didn’t think of that one. I think I have a half a bag in my garage, too.” The others were soon there. Tom, Louisa, AnnMarie, and Jeff, Jeff’s parents, and some others I didn’t even know from the neighborhood. John was there too, with his wife, Sarah.
When everyone was there, we all sang “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands”. It went well, without hymnals, but you repeat a lot and it’s a song that even the un-churched are familiar with. Dad led us in prayer, praised God, prayed for forgiveness, and thanked Him for all the things that He does for us. We prayed especially for those people that were struggling. There certainly were many who were worse off than we were. Jim and Hallie sang a duet, “How Great Thou Art”, and then Dad got his Bible and read a scripture, Psalm 121.
“I lift up my eyes to the hills where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of Heaven and Earth.
He will not let your foot slip. He who watches over you, will not slumber.
Indeed, He who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord watches over you. The Lord is your shade at your right hand.
The sun will not harm you by day nor the moon by night.
The Lord will keep you from all harm. He will watch over your life.
The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.”
Dad kept his comments short. He stressed that Jesus would take care of us and that we needed to trust in Him. To end the service, we all sang “Jesus Loves Me”.
Bill went in the house, came out with a whole box of hamburger patties. He said, “I know I shouldn’t have opened the freezer, but Marie and I really wanted to share these. We all deserve a treat today.”
Hallie said, as she grabbed her picnic basket, “I have been saving a big bag of potato chips. Don’t know when we’ll have those again.”
“And,” Marie said, “I also had good hamburger buns.”
“Well, get to work then,” said Norm. “Get those babies frying.”
Bill said, “I opened the freezer quickly. I knew where the hamburgers were, grabbed them, and closed it. And as you can see, they still have a little frost on them, not frozen solid, but still really cold, so I think the food in there will be fine for a day or two more, until we learn how to preserve it. Are you still planning on doing that tomorrow?” he asked my dad.
Dad said, “Bright and early tomorrow morning. We need to get an early start so we don’t run out of light in the evening. Like I said before, if you want to come, lend a hand, and learn, hopefully you can save some of your own food in your own home. Don’t bring any along. I’m sure we’ll find some things in the freezer that we’ll have to eat as there won’t be a good way to preserve it. So, in addition to the work tomorrow, we may also have a feast. And please, everyone bring a couple empty jars so you can each take some with you.”
While Bill threw the burgers on the grill, and the mothers were getting together the rest of the fare, some of the kids and myself got into the pool. It wasn’t even noon yet but the water was warm. It was another hot, sticky day. John left and came back several minutes later. He had a five-gallon bucket full of ice and a gallon of lemonade and a gallon of tea. He said, “As I have my freezer running, I can spare the ice and just make more. We all deserve cold drinks today.”
“Thank you very much,” Marie said. “I sure like how everybody pitched in to make this little meal for us.”
“Sure is hot,” Jim said.
“Yeah, but not as hot as last summer,” Hallie answered. “Remember last summer, some of the trouble in California, the tremendous heat? Even around here.”
“Yeah, we remember,” Norm said. “And remember all that talk about global warming, that it was our misuse of fossil fuels that caused all of that.”
“Well,” Hallie said, “Did you see that Al Gore movie about the environment?” No one had, except Hallie, I guess. She continued, “It was something. It was kind of compelling. Maybe if more people or at least people in power that would have had the foresight or capability of developing alternative energy, this collapse might have been prevented.”
Jim said, “This collapse that we just experienced could not have been prevented simply by solving our oil dependency. There were other factors that contributed, right?”
The question was directed toward my dad. He said, “Probably, there were circumstances that were already set in motion and really hard to reverse. One thing was the strain of the war with Iraq. Even though it was ending, the budgetary strain was too hard to overcome. Then adding the high cost of energy on businesses and on the government itself really put tremendous pressure on the dollar.”
Norm added, “And the fact that that our dollar wasn’t backed by anything of value like gold or silver. That had to have a lot to do with it, also, didn’t it?”
Jim said, “I’m pretty sure you’re right Norm. But the Chinese abandoning the dollar in favor of the euro had to be the final nail in the coffin.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Dad said. “Either way, now that we aren’t driving and burning fossil fuels, if Gore is right, global warming will be reversed and our summers will be cooler and wetter.”
“Yeah right, if Gore is right! I’ll believe it when I see it,” Janice added. “And our winters will be colder and snowier so we’ll have to work harder to stay warm.”
“If just working keeps us warm, no problem; we won’t run out of work to do,” Marie said.
Bill added, “So maybe a couple smart moves on the administration’s part, and I know that’s an oxymoron, could have prevented the collapse. Maybe we’ll even have our electricity back and oil available by winter.”
“There are a lot of maybes in life,” Mom said, “But we play the hand with the cards that we’re dealt. I’m tickled to death by the way we’re all cooperating and making a go of it.”
Soon the burgers were ready. Janice had a pack of cheese. Someone had brought some of Dad’s tomatoes; another had some lettuce, so we had California cheeseburgers. Didn’t remember when I had those last. The adults ate first. We got out of the pool to eat then while some of the adults took their turn and jumped in. It must have been around one PM when the sky started getting black to the west.
Jim said to my dad, “It looks like that rain you talked about is coming. We’ve got the farthest to walk, we’d better get started honey,” he said to Hallie.
“Yes, looks like you better get going,” said Marie. “Thanks for the potato chips.”
“Jim answered, “You’re welcome, and you for the burgers, and for having us here, and for the refreshing dip in the pool.”
“And,” Norm added, “For those ice cold drinks, John.”
“No problem,” answered John. “And please, let me know if anyone needs anything. I might be able to help.” As the storm clouds thickened, everyone headed out.
“See you tomorrow,” Hallie said to us as they hurried down the road.
“Bright and early,” Dad answered.
We were home before it started. I’m not sure if Hallie and Jim made it. They lived a good half-mile down the road, but soon a nice steady rain started. It lightninged and thundered some, but not too close, and it wasn’t terribly windy. Within a half an hour, it was over, and the sun shone brightly in the western sky.
Josh looked at the thermometer and said, “It’s only 72 degrees now; must have dropped twenty degrees from the storm. Nice, cool, dry air moving in.”
Just then, a pickup came up the road. It was our landlord. Dad and he talked a bit. There was a lot of motioning over at the water hydrant and the old springhouse. Then they were looking in and around a few of the sheds on the farm. Took a walk into the cellar. He gave a wave to all of us and went on his way.
“What was that all about?” Josh asked.
“We were just discussing how we could run the water into the trough in the springhouse so it would work as a cooler. Getting the water in is easy. We have plenty of hose, plastic pipe that we could rig up, but someone will have to figure out how and where the water could drain from it. Maybe you could look at it tomorrow if we get our other work finished.”
To be continued… Mort
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