This Sunday morning we awoke much earlier than the previous. The boys had cows to milk and feed. Remember Mom and I were on the breakfast crew. And now I had a horse to take care of. Before I did anything else I headed for the barn to check on Brutus. Jake and I led him to the creek for water. There I could tie him under a big willow tree for shade, where anyone could find him if they wanted to haul water, but really when Brutus worked, I wanted to be there, too. Dad and Poppop came over with a third of a bucket of corn and a cake of dry grass hay for him.
“He has grass to eat here all day,” Poppop said. “But it’s good if he has some dry feed in him, too. Oats would be better, but there are none here. Maybe your dad can talk to Butch later about his eating regimen. Watch that he doesn’t get anything with mold on it, especially if it’s dusty. Horses just can’t handle moldy feed like cattle do.”
I hurried into the butcher house to help Mom and Grandma with breakfast. They were making a big pot of oatmeal. Nothing they needed me for, but Lynette and I could set the table. We needed twenty-one bowls, cups and spoons. We scattered a few knives around the table even though we were out of bread. At least now we had some butter to add to the oatmeal. We still had sweeteners for it thank goodness. We had both sugar and brown sugar, which we were supposed to use sparingly. Also there was pancake syrup and Dad’s blackstrap molasses. Then just as the crew was arriving, we brought about five gallons of chilled milk and the last bottle of chocolate syrup from the springhouse. We distributed the milk in six pitchers around the table. There was hot water ready as we had a decent supply of tea bags remaining and a little instant coffee. I guess it was a little bit of everything for everybody.
“I wonder what we’ll have to eat up a Butch’s?” Lois asked.
“Don’t worry,” said Jean, “Butch’s wife Clare is a great cook and hostess. I’m sure she has something in mind or they wouldn’t have invited us. My concern is this: what can Sandy, Mel and I make that will keep until it’s time to eat? A month ago I would have picked up the phone and called her to ask what we should bring.”
“If you make something that needs to stay cool, just put it in containers that can be placed in his horse trough and it will be fine,” Harvey said.
“And how are we all getting up there?” Grandmom asked.
“Larry and I talked about that this morning,” Dad said. “Those who can bike or walk, should do so. The rest of us can ride in Larry’s pickup; it’s only two miles round trip. Won’t take more than a quart of gasoline. That way we can take a bunch of our lawn chairs, a couple folding tables, and load the food, too.”
“Good idea,” said Joe, “And honey,” he said to Sandy, “Don’t fret over what to make. Whatever it is, we’ll eat it, and be thankful for it. In fact, Larry, if you can spare me from the rest of the morning chores, I’d like to stay and give them a hand. It’s only about two and a half hours until we should leave.”
“Go right ahead,” Larry responded, “If everyone else pitches in we can get everything done in time.” I went to help the men as usual. We shoveled feed to the different groups. There was only one fence that needed to be moved. We were done with plenty of time to spare; time enough to run into Grandmom’s house, wash up a little, and put on some clean clothes and shoes. By then Larry had pulled his truck to the butcher house to load up. Sandy, Joe and Lois came out with several big bowls of food.
“Well, what did you come up with?” Mom asked.
Sandy answered, “We took stock and figured we had a lot of cabbage, some peppers, vinegar, enough sugar, salt and pepper.”
“So you made pepper cabbage.” Lois said.
“Right, but just two bowls. We also had cream.”
“So you made cole slaw, too?” Mom asked.
“Right again,” Sandy said. “In the other bowl we splurged a little, opened up a few cans of fruit, added some of the apples from the tree in the back meadow and some dry coconut and walnuts to make a little fruit salad.”
“Sounds right good,” said Dad, just as Joe and Mel came out carrying a couple boxes.
“If you like sour cabbage,” Mel bemoaned. “I hope Clare doesn’t have the same thing. I wonder if she’ll have some meat.”
“If she does, she does,” Mom said. “What’s in the boxes?”
“Four jars of chow-chow in case there’s not enough salad and some tomatoes; Clare might not have any and no meal in August is complete without tomatoes.”
“Ha ha,” Dad snorted, “well let’s get going. Alyssa and Lynette, would you bring the hymns?”
“Yessa,” we answered and went into the house to get a large piece of cardboard on which she and I had used a fat black crayon to write the words to two hymns, one on each side.
“Thanks,” said Dad as he put the cardboard in back of the truck right behind the rear window. “You’ll have to use your side mirrors,” he said to Larry. “I guess no cop will pull us over.” Larry just shook his head. “And Mel, did you practice enough?” Dad asked.
“Yes Daddy, more than enough. You picked simple hymns. For how many people will I have to play piano in front of, fifty?”
“Not quite that many. Are you nervous?”
“A little,” she answered.
“Don’t sweat it,” he said, “you’ll do fine.” People piled on and into the truck. I biked of course and others had started walking. My grandmothers were in the front of the truck and Larry let Grandpop drive. Joe came out of the house with a soccer ball and threw that in the pickup bed before beginning his hoof.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“You never know, “he answered, “there are a few kids up at Butch’s. Do you want to sit around and listen to us talk all afternoon?”
“No, I guess I don’t,” I replied. Joe was a soccer coach. It was probably something he missed. So up the road we went, except for Harvey and Poppop. Dad had told me they weren’t churchgoers. Maybe they were believers; that I couldn’t say for sure. It’s sad when you can’t tell. Or maybe they just didn’t like church. Of course they both had excuses. Harvey said he needed to keep an eye on the cows, especially the one calving. Poppop said there was manuring to do. His sister, my dad’s aunt Mary, had said once that Poppop has been using that excuse to stay home from church since he was ten years old. To each his own.
Crystal View Farm was a beautiful place, well manicured. Of course, no one else had mowed lawns in weeks. Almost everyone stopped when the gas stations ran out of fuel. However people with push reel mowers could still keep after their lawns and Butch had a set of ground driven gang reel mowers that he usually pulled with a tractor. Now he pulled them with a team of Clydesdales and had the lawns looking pretty good.
Clare and Butch’s home had a big front porch facing a nice size lawn which was surrounded by big maple trees. When we arrived, there were already tables and chairs set up for the service. We unloaded ours to add to the configuration. Clare’s piano was in the front room, right next to the door, which was large enough for the boys to easily pull out the piano onto the porch. You couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful day; blue sky with big puffy white clouds, a little breeze and the temperature felt like it was in the 70’s.
When Mel, Lynette and I took our bicycles around the back of the house to park them, we were greeted by a grand surprise. Between Butch’s chicken house and his barn there was a fire going and a spit with a good sized hog roasting away.
“Guess that answers your question about meat?” I asked Mel.
“Answers it well,” she said. Dad, Joe, and Larry had come back to put the bowls of salad in the horse trough and to greet Butch, who was turning the spit skewered into our soon-to-be dinner.
“I didn’t know you had hogs,” Dad said.
“Yesterday morning I didn’t,” Butch answered. “When we returned from your place yesterday afternoon I ventured over to Roger. It’s a five mile trip if you follow the roads, but all I had to do with my team was use the old lane through my woods, cut across one neighbor’s field, another’s lane, and I was there in 20 minutes, no sweat. Roger was kind enough to give me a couple hogs of varying sizes so they become ready for the butcher at different times. In addition to the extra milk we have from the two cows you gave us, I’m hoping I may use some of the corn you have here to feed them.”
“Not a problem at all,” Larry said.
“Oh, I brought some of Harvey’s empty barrels back from Roger, too. Our arrangement is that I can haul them over for him, when we’ve accumulated too much milk in return for some of the hogs he needs to move. He has quite a challenge there, but we can talk about that later. It looks like the others are waiting for us to get started. I’ll stay here to keep this pig rotating; Others will relieve me every ten minutes so no one will miss all the service.”
We headed for the front porch. Just about everyone was seated. Mel took her place at the piano and Dad got started.
“I’d like to welcome everyone here on such a beautiful day. I’m at an advantage here. I know everyone from my family who’ve just come up from Harvey Stump’s dairy and I know everyone else here as they’re part of my church family. We won’t take the time here for introductions, for after the service there will be time for food and fellowship. I encourage everyone to get to know each other then. With everything that has happened in the last several weeks we might be tempted to be thinking a lot about the past. And with uncertainty, we might also be wondering about the future. But for the present, for right now, I’d like you to forget everything else and just focus on God and his Son Jesus Christ for the next 15 to 20 minutes. Let us begin with prayer.”
We all stood as Dad led in prayer. He then introduced the first hymn,
“We praise Thee, O God, our Redeemer, Creator.”
Mel played pretty well and as the tune was fairly familiar and with the aid of our sign, the group sang terrifically. It was a good praise hymn, but in spite of Dad’s instructions we couldn’t help thinking of the past and the future when we sang some of the lyrics such as:
“Through life’s storm and tempest our Guide hast Thou been.
When perils o’er take us, escape Thou wilt make us,
Thy strong arm will guide us, Our God is beside us,
And with Thy help, O Lord, life’s battles we win.”
After the hymn, Dad led us in silent confession and then went on: “The scripture I’ve chosen today is from the Gospel of John, chapter 20, verses 24-29, the story of Thomas.”
“Now Thomas (called Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. So the other disciples told him, ‘We have seen the Lord!’”
“But he said to them, ‘Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it.’”
“A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you!’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.’”
“Thomas said to him, ‘My Lord and my God!’”
“Then Jesus told him, ‘Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.’”
Dad continued, “Is it safe to say that no one here is in Thomas’s camp? No, not because you do not doubt. Almost everyone has doubted if just for a smidgen of time since your walk with Jesus began, or during the time before you accepted Christ as your Lord and Savior. That’s not it.”
“You’re not in Thomas’s camp because you have not seen the risen Lord; he did. You’re not in Thomas’s camp because he had to see to believe; you don’t. The last line in the last verse has always had great meaning to me when Jesus said, ‘Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.’ He’s talking about us, about you! We who are not in Thomas’s camp are blessed! Now I’ll renege on my own suggestion about thinking about the recent past and future; it’s hard not to, isn’t it? With what’s happening around us do you feel blessed? Believe me you should.”
“When you lose your job, you are blessed!”
“When you lose all the money you have in the bank, you are blessed!”
“When your retirement checks stop coming, you are blessed!”
“When the gasoline supply dries up, you are blessed!”
“When the electricity goes out, you are blessed!”
“When the food in your refrigerator spoils, you are blessed!”
“When you have to carry water to flush the toilets, you are blessed!”
“When you’re sick and tired of eating oatmeal or tomato soup, you are blessed!”
“When you have to leave your home just to find water to drink, you are blessed!”
“When your back hurts from picking beans, or your arms from shoveling feed, or your hands from milking cows or your feet from walking when you used to ride, you are blessed!”
“When your heart aches from wondering about the rest of our families and friends who we’ve not been able to contact, not knowing how they are faring to the point that you just want everything to go back to the way is was before, you are blessed!”
“Yes and when you see suffering around you, when you are persecuted for your belief in Jesus Christ and even when you suffer the final pain of death, you will be blessed!”
“And why are you blessed? Because the scripture says so, in Jesus’ own words: ‘Blessed are those who have not seen yet have believed.’ Why are you blessed? Because you have not seen, yet you believe! Your faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savoir has made you blessed. And it’s our faith that will pull us through this, will provide through Jesus’ love for us the things we need, will heal our bodies when they hurt, and fill our hearts with even more faith, with hope and with love for one another.”
“Love for one another - brings me to one more additional and somewhat counterpoint. In Matthew chapter 25, Jesus talks about judgment and the separation of the sheep from the goats. Where the sheep are judged as righteous and declared ‘Blessed by my Father’. Does anyone remember what the sheep did to receive the favorable judgment?”
It was quiet for a few moments, and then Ben finally got it started, “When I was hungry and you gave me something to eat.”
“When I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink,” Mom said.
“When the prisoner was visited,” said another.
“When someone was given clothes, and you looked after the sick.”
“And when the stranger was invited in!” concluded Jean.
“Good,” Dad continued, “So when we see someone hungry, thirsty, sick, naked, in prison, or a stranger we are in some sense seeing Jesus. Don’t let that confuse you; it’s not like Thomas seeing Jesus. We are still blessed by believing without seeing, that’s faith. But we are also blessed, again in Jesus’ own words when ‘Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me,’ that’s action. And I have a feeling that in the near future there will be numerous occasions when we will be able to put our faith into action by ministering to the needy.”
“In conclusion, hold steadfast in the faith and be prepared to put it into action then we will continue to be blessed just as Jesus has promised.”
Dad said a short prayer, followed by the Lord’s Prayer and we concluded by singing “What a Friend We Have in Jesus,” and it was the last line that really caught my attention: “In His arms He’ll take and shield thee, Thou wilt find a solace there.” And I thought to myself, up until this point in my life it was my mother’s arms I wanted to be in when I needed solace. Alas, she would not be there forever, but Jesus would and with all the unforeseen things that might soon be happening, it would be His arms I wanted to be in.
To be continued…. Mort
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Chapter Eight - Ingenuity, cont...
“Harvey, Joe, Jeremiah, should we give the boys the go ahead to begin their proposed water projects?”
“Sure,” they answered.
“But,” Harvey said, “keep thinking about the other challenges. The wash machine and wringer, flour mill, oven, lighting for the barn, hay making and manure hauling come to mind.”
“We will,” the boys answered. Josh had gone up to the workshop. He returned pulling a water cart.
“In the meantime,” Jake said, “We can use this cart to bring water to the butcher house.” Josh had built a cart with two high bicycle wheels in the back, two smaller ones in the front on a swivel, and a tongue with a “T” handle that two people could easily pull on. On the cart he had fastened one of the plastic 55 gallon soap barrels with a petcock pointing down and an opening in the top.
“We’ll still have to dip the water from the springhouse to fill this tank,” Josh said. “We’ll have to make a trip every time it gets empty. And in addition to the two pulling, one or two can push.”
“Good job,” Dad said. “Let’s give her a test.”
I went along for the inaugural trip. We had to pick a route that wasn’t too bumpy or too soft so the wheels wouldn’t dig in. I suppose the more we use the same track the easier it will become. As we neared the house we noticed a wagon being pulled by two workhorses coming down the road. I didn’t know what breed they were, but they looked a lot like the horses in the beer commercials.
“What breed are they?” I asked Dad.
“Clydesdales,” he answered. As they drew closer I recognized the driver as Butch from the next farm up the road. Crystal View Farm it was named. I knew him from church. With him was another man I knew from church and who served with Dad on church projects, Ben.
“Hallooo neighbors,” Butch bellowed as he came into earshot. “How are you making out? And what in the world is that contraption you’re plaguing yourself with?”
“We’re ‘making out’ okay,” Dad answered. “But where did you pick up this guy, hitchhiking?”
“Naw, he dropped in yesterday. He’s a paratrooper, part of the UN’s peacekeeping force. Was supposed to land in Iran; missed it by a few thousand miles. Names Ben or Beni-du-howie, something like that. Seems like a nice guy; even speaks a little English and Pennsylvania German. Es sel net recht, Ben?”
“Ja, it’s kind of right,” Ben answered. Almost everyone’s chuckling. We all knew Ben except for Joe, Dennis and Aaron, who looked seriously dumbfounded.
Joe said, “What, a paratrooper, did anyone hear a plane Friday?” We broke up. I don’t know what was funnier, Butch’s introduction or Joe’s crew falling for it. But that was Butch; a man who could be counted on for a laugh and also for help when you needed it.
As Dad and I explained it to Joe and his sons, Butch continued, “Ben and his family have moved in with us along with three other families from church. They like our water.” Butch’s farm was in the same valley as Harvey’s, had the same creek, connecting meadows, and that same vein of water that fed our spring. His spring fed a beautiful, pristine pond, that you could see clear to the bottom and as well as see the fish in it, hence the farm’s name.
A great positive advantage, however, was that they had a ram pump in the meadow. It was probably there for over one hundred years. I can’t explain how it really worked; even Dad couldn’t, but it had something to do with the fact that the water line from the spring had been installed with enough pitch to a pit outside the house that tremendous pressure was created there. The pressure was used to operate some sort of piston in the pump that pushed the water up into the house. Not all the water now mind you, that would have defied Newton’s second law, conservation of energy. Every few seconds the pressure released with an interesting psssst sound when some of the water was freed to flow into the creek. It was always neat to stand there and listen to it. Trick was, once it was started, it needed to keep the momentum going; therefore, it was never turned off. As a result the water was constantly flowing into a horse trough in front of Butch’s barn, where his animals could drink fresh spring water all year long.
“So this contraption,” Josh answered, “is our way to get water to the house until we get a pump installed. It’s too far to run a line from your pump.” Josh and our family knew about the pump set up because Harvey farmed much of Butch’s land for years. In fact the farm had been my great-great grandfather’s once. So our family members had often gotten cool drinks at the horse trough while working there. Now the families that had moved in with Butch could, too.
“Yeah, they like our water,” Butch continued. “These families have a dozen kids and they like milk, too. That’s what brings us here. Do you have some to spare? We brought some eggs to trade.” Butch had seven horses, about 50 chickens, and a few beef cows with calves. Harvey’s cows were the premier dairy breed – Holsteins – black and white with a large boney frame and bred for milk production, but they were probably had the most contentious attitude of all the breeds. Butch’s cows were bred for meat, were shorter and rounder, and through crossbreeding came in many colors – solid red, white, tan, gray, roan, and some just had white faces. “How are the cows treating you?” Butch concluded.
“The cow business has been a challenge,” Harvey said, “we’re milking twelve cows right now, two each for the five boys and me. With six of us going at it, it only takes about 45 minutes to milk, carry the milk to the springhouse and wash up the milk buckets. Gives us more time for feeding and moving fences. I’m glad you came down though; saved me a trip. I’ve been meaning to talk to you. We have two of our top notch cows due to calve next week and a heifer that looks like she might calve a little later, too. They’ll provide us with even more milk than we can use. There’re two real gentle ones in the string that I think you and your guests should be able to handle. Didn’t you try milking those goofy cows you have?”
“Yes we did, yesterday afternoon and again this morning. Didn’t go too well, did it, Ben?” Ben shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“They’re only used to being suckled by their calves; couldn’t adapt to us. And by the way they’re not goofy, they’re just not black and white and nutsy like yours,” Butch concluded.
“Okay,” Harvey said, “to each his own.”
“Larry,” Harvey continued, “why don’t you and a couple of the guys round up the two cows that we think will work well for Butch and company; you know the ones. They are both accustomed to halters, right?”
“Sure do, Pop,” Larry answered, “And yes they are.”
“I think they’ll trail behind your wagon alright. A few of us can go behind you to help,” Harvey said to Butch. “In addition to any feed you might have, feel free to start pulling corn for them, and as it seems we might not be able to harvest the hay I have growing on your farm, let them graze in it. But only twice a day, when the dew is off, about an hour at a time. You have plenty a people to tend them. These two will behave well for your crew. Meanwhile let’s carry the eggs to the springhouse and fill a jug of milk for their lunch. If all goes well, tonight they’ll have fresh milk.”
While the men went to the springhouse I ran into the house to tell Mom about Ben. You see, Mom and Ben shared two passions. They both liked me and starlight mints. I found her stash of the red striped peppermint candy, grabbed one for Ben and we both headed back out to pay our regards to him.
The men were back with the milk and the boys had two cows tied to the back of the wagon.
“Here’s some butter for your crew, we successfully made some this morning with an ice cream freezer. It was our first attempt; it’s a little soft and maybe salty, so I hope you like it,” Mom said.
“Thanks,” Ben said, “and for the mint.”
“And for the milk and cows,” Butch said.
“And you for the eggs,” Dad said.
“But trading’s not a necessity,” Harvey added. “There’s plenty of milk and cows.”
“I know,” said Butch. “But I wish there was something I could do for you.
I got it!” he exclaimed. “My horses. You can use my teams to bring your harvest in. In fact, you could use one right away to pull that funny water cart of yours and other things around the farm. We lost my seventh one’s partner a year ago, it was rough on him; he could use a change of venue and a challenge to up his spirit. Alyssa, you like horses don’t you?”
“I sure do, and I always wanted one!” I blurted out.
“Then he’s yours, if it’s alright with your father?” One look at my eyes and Dad had the answer to that question.
“Not a problem and thank you,” Dad said.
“Yes, thank you, Butch,” said Mom and I, “We’ll take good care of him.”
“Are you a horse man?” he asked my dad.
“Never, but my dad was. He can help, plus Harvey and Larry are really good with their livestock.”
“That I know,” responded Butch. “Then it’s settled. His name is Brutus by the way, but don’t let the name scare you. He’s very gentle and obedient. He’s also old, so he won’t be able to pull heavy loads. Keep them light and only a few a day. He’ll want to do more, that’s his attitude, but you have to take care with him.”
“We will,” Dad said, “As he’ll become a valuable part of this operation.”
“Then jump on the wagon, Alyssa. You and the boys can lead him home. At some point, when you and he are more familiar, you’ll even be able to ride him. I’ll still be around to help you. Is there anything else we can help you folks with?”
“Sure,’ said Aaron, “We’re looking for a wash machine wringer and a flour mill.”
“Well,” said Butch, “Nothing immediately comes to mind.”
“But we’ll work on it,” Ben added. “Oh, we almost forgot.” He looked at my dad and asked, “Would you do Sunday services for us tomorrow? We’d appreciate it.”
“Sure,’ Dad answered, “Where and when?”
“Up with us,” Butch said. “About eleven; we’ll lunch afterward. Maybe do a little fishing in the pond. Everyone’s invited.”
“Thank you,’ said Mom. “We look forward to seeing everyone.”
We completed the livestock swap and brought Brutus home. He was immense.
“He’s too big for you to handle by yourself,” Dad said. “Make sure one of us men is with you when you move him. For the time being anyway, until I’m sure you can do it safely.”
We seemed to take to each other right quickly. Poppop gave him a good look over; he seemed as thrilled as me to have him. Together with Josh and Dad we pulled a couple of carts of water over, then found him a spot in the now empty dairy barn for overnight. It took everything for me to not stay with him. But eventually I found my own bed and finally fell asleep much different than I had woke up. I was now a horse owner.
To be continued… next week - chapter nine
“Sure,” they answered.
“But,” Harvey said, “keep thinking about the other challenges. The wash machine and wringer, flour mill, oven, lighting for the barn, hay making and manure hauling come to mind.”
“We will,” the boys answered. Josh had gone up to the workshop. He returned pulling a water cart.
“In the meantime,” Jake said, “We can use this cart to bring water to the butcher house.” Josh had built a cart with two high bicycle wheels in the back, two smaller ones in the front on a swivel, and a tongue with a “T” handle that two people could easily pull on. On the cart he had fastened one of the plastic 55 gallon soap barrels with a petcock pointing down and an opening in the top.
“We’ll still have to dip the water from the springhouse to fill this tank,” Josh said. “We’ll have to make a trip every time it gets empty. And in addition to the two pulling, one or two can push.”
“Good job,” Dad said. “Let’s give her a test.”
I went along for the inaugural trip. We had to pick a route that wasn’t too bumpy or too soft so the wheels wouldn’t dig in. I suppose the more we use the same track the easier it will become. As we neared the house we noticed a wagon being pulled by two workhorses coming down the road. I didn’t know what breed they were, but they looked a lot like the horses in the beer commercials.
“What breed are they?” I asked Dad.
“Clydesdales,” he answered. As they drew closer I recognized the driver as Butch from the next farm up the road. Crystal View Farm it was named. I knew him from church. With him was another man I knew from church and who served with Dad on church projects, Ben.
“Hallooo neighbors,” Butch bellowed as he came into earshot. “How are you making out? And what in the world is that contraption you’re plaguing yourself with?”
“We’re ‘making out’ okay,” Dad answered. “But where did you pick up this guy, hitchhiking?”
“Naw, he dropped in yesterday. He’s a paratrooper, part of the UN’s peacekeeping force. Was supposed to land in Iran; missed it by a few thousand miles. Names Ben or Beni-du-howie, something like that. Seems like a nice guy; even speaks a little English and Pennsylvania German. Es sel net recht, Ben?”
“Ja, it’s kind of right,” Ben answered. Almost everyone’s chuckling. We all knew Ben except for Joe, Dennis and Aaron, who looked seriously dumbfounded.
Joe said, “What, a paratrooper, did anyone hear a plane Friday?” We broke up. I don’t know what was funnier, Butch’s introduction or Joe’s crew falling for it. But that was Butch; a man who could be counted on for a laugh and also for help when you needed it.
As Dad and I explained it to Joe and his sons, Butch continued, “Ben and his family have moved in with us along with three other families from church. They like our water.” Butch’s farm was in the same valley as Harvey’s, had the same creek, connecting meadows, and that same vein of water that fed our spring. His spring fed a beautiful, pristine pond, that you could see clear to the bottom and as well as see the fish in it, hence the farm’s name.
A great positive advantage, however, was that they had a ram pump in the meadow. It was probably there for over one hundred years. I can’t explain how it really worked; even Dad couldn’t, but it had something to do with the fact that the water line from the spring had been installed with enough pitch to a pit outside the house that tremendous pressure was created there. The pressure was used to operate some sort of piston in the pump that pushed the water up into the house. Not all the water now mind you, that would have defied Newton’s second law, conservation of energy. Every few seconds the pressure released with an interesting psssst sound when some of the water was freed to flow into the creek. It was always neat to stand there and listen to it. Trick was, once it was started, it needed to keep the momentum going; therefore, it was never turned off. As a result the water was constantly flowing into a horse trough in front of Butch’s barn, where his animals could drink fresh spring water all year long.
“So this contraption,” Josh answered, “is our way to get water to the house until we get a pump installed. It’s too far to run a line from your pump.” Josh and our family knew about the pump set up because Harvey farmed much of Butch’s land for years. In fact the farm had been my great-great grandfather’s once. So our family members had often gotten cool drinks at the horse trough while working there. Now the families that had moved in with Butch could, too.
“Yeah, they like our water,” Butch continued. “These families have a dozen kids and they like milk, too. That’s what brings us here. Do you have some to spare? We brought some eggs to trade.” Butch had seven horses, about 50 chickens, and a few beef cows with calves. Harvey’s cows were the premier dairy breed – Holsteins – black and white with a large boney frame and bred for milk production, but they were probably had the most contentious attitude of all the breeds. Butch’s cows were bred for meat, were shorter and rounder, and through crossbreeding came in many colors – solid red, white, tan, gray, roan, and some just had white faces. “How are the cows treating you?” Butch concluded.
“The cow business has been a challenge,” Harvey said, “we’re milking twelve cows right now, two each for the five boys and me. With six of us going at it, it only takes about 45 minutes to milk, carry the milk to the springhouse and wash up the milk buckets. Gives us more time for feeding and moving fences. I’m glad you came down though; saved me a trip. I’ve been meaning to talk to you. We have two of our top notch cows due to calve next week and a heifer that looks like she might calve a little later, too. They’ll provide us with even more milk than we can use. There’re two real gentle ones in the string that I think you and your guests should be able to handle. Didn’t you try milking those goofy cows you have?”
“Yes we did, yesterday afternoon and again this morning. Didn’t go too well, did it, Ben?” Ben shook his head and rolled his eyes.
“They’re only used to being suckled by their calves; couldn’t adapt to us. And by the way they’re not goofy, they’re just not black and white and nutsy like yours,” Butch concluded.
“Okay,” Harvey said, “to each his own.”
“Larry,” Harvey continued, “why don’t you and a couple of the guys round up the two cows that we think will work well for Butch and company; you know the ones. They are both accustomed to halters, right?”
“Sure do, Pop,” Larry answered, “And yes they are.”
“I think they’ll trail behind your wagon alright. A few of us can go behind you to help,” Harvey said to Butch. “In addition to any feed you might have, feel free to start pulling corn for them, and as it seems we might not be able to harvest the hay I have growing on your farm, let them graze in it. But only twice a day, when the dew is off, about an hour at a time. You have plenty a people to tend them. These two will behave well for your crew. Meanwhile let’s carry the eggs to the springhouse and fill a jug of milk for their lunch. If all goes well, tonight they’ll have fresh milk.”
While the men went to the springhouse I ran into the house to tell Mom about Ben. You see, Mom and Ben shared two passions. They both liked me and starlight mints. I found her stash of the red striped peppermint candy, grabbed one for Ben and we both headed back out to pay our regards to him.
The men were back with the milk and the boys had two cows tied to the back of the wagon.
“Here’s some butter for your crew, we successfully made some this morning with an ice cream freezer. It was our first attempt; it’s a little soft and maybe salty, so I hope you like it,” Mom said.
“Thanks,” Ben said, “and for the mint.”
“And for the milk and cows,” Butch said.
“And you for the eggs,” Dad said.
“But trading’s not a necessity,” Harvey added. “There’s plenty of milk and cows.”
“I know,” said Butch. “But I wish there was something I could do for you.
I got it!” he exclaimed. “My horses. You can use my teams to bring your harvest in. In fact, you could use one right away to pull that funny water cart of yours and other things around the farm. We lost my seventh one’s partner a year ago, it was rough on him; he could use a change of venue and a challenge to up his spirit. Alyssa, you like horses don’t you?”
“I sure do, and I always wanted one!” I blurted out.
“Then he’s yours, if it’s alright with your father?” One look at my eyes and Dad had the answer to that question.
“Not a problem and thank you,” Dad said.
“Yes, thank you, Butch,” said Mom and I, “We’ll take good care of him.”
“Are you a horse man?” he asked my dad.
“Never, but my dad was. He can help, plus Harvey and Larry are really good with their livestock.”
“That I know,” responded Butch. “Then it’s settled. His name is Brutus by the way, but don’t let the name scare you. He’s very gentle and obedient. He’s also old, so he won’t be able to pull heavy loads. Keep them light and only a few a day. He’ll want to do more, that’s his attitude, but you have to take care with him.”
“We will,” Dad said, “As he’ll become a valuable part of this operation.”
“Then jump on the wagon, Alyssa. You and the boys can lead him home. At some point, when you and he are more familiar, you’ll even be able to ride him. I’ll still be around to help you. Is there anything else we can help you folks with?”
“Sure,’ said Aaron, “We’re looking for a wash machine wringer and a flour mill.”
“Well,” said Butch, “Nothing immediately comes to mind.”
“But we’ll work on it,” Ben added. “Oh, we almost forgot.” He looked at my dad and asked, “Would you do Sunday services for us tomorrow? We’d appreciate it.”
“Sure,’ Dad answered, “Where and when?”
“Up with us,” Butch said. “About eleven; we’ll lunch afterward. Maybe do a little fishing in the pond. Everyone’s invited.”
“Thank you,’ said Mom. “We look forward to seeing everyone.”
We completed the livestock swap and brought Brutus home. He was immense.
“He’s too big for you to handle by yourself,” Dad said. “Make sure one of us men is with you when you move him. For the time being anyway, until I’m sure you can do it safely.”
We seemed to take to each other right quickly. Poppop gave him a good look over; he seemed as thrilled as me to have him. Together with Josh and Dad we pulled a couple of carts of water over, then found him a spot in the now empty dairy barn for overnight. It took everything for me to not stay with him. But eventually I found my own bed and finally fell asleep much different than I had woke up. I was now a horse owner.
To be continued… next week - chapter nine
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
CHAPTER EIGHT - INGENUITY
Saturday started out a little overcast and cool. Perhaps a reminder that even though there were four weeks of summer left, fall would not be far behind. After the chores were done, the boys presented their plan to bring water to the butcher house and furnace. Josh was the chief presenter.
He said, “We decided to use the pump from Larry’s weed sprayer. It has high capacity, is fairly new, and is self-lubricated. It’s direct driven, by power-take-off now, but we can easily install a sprocket on the main drive shaft and rig up a bicycle to spin it by pedal/people power. We thought we’d set it up halfway between the spring and the butcher house, pitching the water line downhill to the pump so gravity would help to get the water started. We can build a little shelter around it so whoever’s pedaling would be out of the weather.”
“We know we’ll have to flush and reflush the pump several times to make sure there are no residual pesticides in it,” added Larry. “In fact, we might even disassemble part of it to make sure.”
Josh continued, “We think we should use a narrow diameter line, no bigger than one inch. We’d be sacrificing volume by using a small line so it will take more time to pump, but to our advantage the weight of the water in a smaller line will be less, requiring much less power to pull and push the water. It appears there is enough one inch plastic line in the barn. When we get nearer to the butcher house, we can switch to regular metal piping and tubing, some of which Dad brought from our old house.”
“What do you plan to store the water in?” Harvey asked.
“I’m getting to that,” Josh responded. “We had to really strain our brains to decide. We wanted to have a large capacity tank, so it would not be running empty all the time. Our two largest tanks are the sprayer tank itself at 500 gallons and the milk tank at 1000 gallons. We are recommending that we install the milk tank in between the butcher house and the furnace, high enough so the water feeds by gravity out of one end into the heating tank in the furnace for hot water and out of the other to an outlet into the butcher house for cold. We know it will be quite a project. We’ll have to use the backhoe to move it and lift it into place. And we’ll have to build a good base to support it. Its capacity was not the only determining factor in our decision, however. It is well insulated to keep the milk cold, so we reasoned it would keep the spring water cooler until we used it. But more importantly it should prevent the water from freezing in the winter.”
Dennis chimed in, “Our intention is to further insulate the outside of the tank and enclose it to protect it from both the sun and wind. We’d place it in the east side of the enclosure, and then in the rest of the enclosure we’d like to rig up showers. We can scrounge up enough piping to do that and both hot and cold water are right there. The shower room would have the furnace on one side and the butcher house with its stove on the other, so it should stay pretty toasty.”
Josh concluded, “Aaron’s working on a sieve to install on the end of the hose in the springhouse, so no critters like snakes, mice or frogs clog it, and we also realize that the line will have to put under ground to prevent it from freezing this winter. Another chore for the backhoe. So… what do you think?”
Harvey and Dad must have been thinking. You couldn’t see the wheels turning inside their heads nor was there any smoke coming out of their ears, but both of them were rubbing the beard on their chins.
Dad spoke first. “You all did a great job of thinking this project through. I only have one suggested change that I’ll mention later.” He turned toward Harvey and said, “But first I need to know if it suits Harvey to use his milk tank. Isn’t there a chance that we will get electricity again and then the tank will be needed to refrigerate the milk, especially if the milking herd increases toward its former numbers?”
“Yeah, I’ve certainly been pondering that,” Harvey responded. “Right now, my thinking is that we’ll take really good care when disconnecting the tank, while moving it and while repositioning it. Enough care that the whole project could be reversed in the future. Larry’s a co-owner here. Do you agree?” he asked Larry.
“Of course I had more time to think about it, and I’m OK with it. You put it well Pop,” Larry said. “Good care must be taken. We needn’t rush it either. We have water in the meantime. And thanks for your confidence.”
He turned to Dad and asked, “What is your suggestion for the project?”
Dad answered, “When Harvey’s and my grandfather lived here, before the wells were drilled, the water was pumped from the spring to the house by a pump in the cellar. Back then even that old pump was able to pull the water all the way across the meadow. Before you go too far, why don’t you just lay your lines on top of the ground and try your pump from the butcher house itself or from the cellar, where it might be even lower than the spring. That way the people doing the pedaling do not need to worry about the weather.”
“And besides,” Harvey added, “the meadow floods once or twice a year, then your pump and pedal contraption would be under water.”
“You’re right,” said Larry, “we forgot about that. We’ll definitely try it your way first. Additionally we’d like to move one of the hot water tanks from either the milk house or one of the houses. The tank in the furnace only heats about 35 gallons. The other tanks are 60-80 gallons. We have the materials and the know how to tie it into the system; it would help a lot with showers and laundry. We agree it’s doable, but what we haven’t agreed on is how to heat Harvey’s house.”
“It’s a dilemma,” Jake said. “Dennis and I keep looking and looking at it. We just can’t figure out how to drive that circulator pump in the furnace mechanically.”
“And if we come up with a way to make enough electricity to run the circulator pump, and it takes a lot, we’d have electricity to pump water, too. We could use the shower in the house. Then all this design and work to bring water to the butcher house becomes unnecessary,” Dennis said.
“But we haven’t figured out a way to make electricity, so we’ll have to come up with something else,” Aaron said.
“We can build a wood stove for the house out of a 55 gallon drum or other materials around the farm,” Jeremiah said.
“Or we could get our coal stove from the old house,” Josh said. “Right Dad?”
“Well, not exactly. I left that for the landlord; it was the only heat in that house.” Dad responded.
“You what!” Josh exclaimed, “What did you owe him?”
“I didn’t owe him anything. I guess I made a heart over a head decision. Something we all need to remember to do once in awhile. And I didn’t just give it to him. He’s giving me a couple things in return.”
“Like what?” Josh asked.
“Oh, we’ll see when I come back from our next trip over there. It’s kinda like that ‘player to be named later’ in a baseball trade.”
Joe jumped in, “I can see where we all need to step back at times and remember there are others in worse shape than we are. Our problems aren’t the worst in the world and can be overcome. The solutions won’t always be perfect. We will have disagreements, but things will work out.”
“Dennis,” he went on, “I’m wondering; couldn’t the hot water be circulated anywhere in the circuit? I’m not sure I’m phrasing that right. Do you know what I’m asking?”
“Yes I do,” Dennis answered. “And I think you’ve solved the problem. If we eliminate or bypass the circulator pump in the furnace and install one in the heating line somewhere in the house and use another pedal/people drive, then we can keep the hot water circulating around the house.”
“It’s a lot of pedaling when it’s cold,” said Josh.
“Another way to stay warm,” Harvey chuckled.
“Only until we figure out another way to drive the pump, like animal power or steam,” Aaron said.
“I like your positive thinking,” Jake said, “but we’ll still need a pump.”
“I know,” Aaron answered, “one thing at a time. Let’s get the spring water here first. We’ve time to find a suitable pump for the house.”
“But I have to come back to the possibility that just maybe,” Dennis said,
“we might come up with a way to make enough electricity to power both pumps, so we can shower in the house.”
“You just don’t give up, do you?” Aaron snapped.
“Boys! Knock it off!” their father yelled.
“It’s all right, Joe,” Harvey said, “they’re thinking. And as with most dilemmas there are two or more opinions. The boys are just defending their opinions with passion. We need passionate thinkers. Think of all the people you worked for or worked with who lacked those qualities. Dennis, you just go right on trying to find a way to make some electricity for the farm. Although,” Harvey continued, “even if we could make enough electricity to keep the showers in the houses operating, would we want every Tom, Dick and Harry who might join us traipsing into our house for a shower?”
“What do you mean,” Larry asked, “By ‘join us’?”
“What I mean,” Harvey answered, “Is that we have food, water, shelter and fuel. Four things a lot of people don’t have. And they’ll soon be out looking for some. People are going to find it here. We’ll share or trade with them, then some will move on; others may want to stay. We’ll only know a few of them; the rest will be strangers. I’d rather have them using outside shower and bathroom facilities instead of our home unless they’re ill, elderly, or otherwise incapacitated.”
“I see,” said Larry. “How many people might join us?”
“We just don’t know,” Dad interjected. “Let’s not dwell on it, but let’s recognize that as we come up with solutions to our challenges that the solutions might have to meet the needs of more than just the 21 people who are here now.”
To be continued… Mort
He said, “We decided to use the pump from Larry’s weed sprayer. It has high capacity, is fairly new, and is self-lubricated. It’s direct driven, by power-take-off now, but we can easily install a sprocket on the main drive shaft and rig up a bicycle to spin it by pedal/people power. We thought we’d set it up halfway between the spring and the butcher house, pitching the water line downhill to the pump so gravity would help to get the water started. We can build a little shelter around it so whoever’s pedaling would be out of the weather.”
“We know we’ll have to flush and reflush the pump several times to make sure there are no residual pesticides in it,” added Larry. “In fact, we might even disassemble part of it to make sure.”
Josh continued, “We think we should use a narrow diameter line, no bigger than one inch. We’d be sacrificing volume by using a small line so it will take more time to pump, but to our advantage the weight of the water in a smaller line will be less, requiring much less power to pull and push the water. It appears there is enough one inch plastic line in the barn. When we get nearer to the butcher house, we can switch to regular metal piping and tubing, some of which Dad brought from our old house.”
“What do you plan to store the water in?” Harvey asked.
“I’m getting to that,” Josh responded. “We had to really strain our brains to decide. We wanted to have a large capacity tank, so it would not be running empty all the time. Our two largest tanks are the sprayer tank itself at 500 gallons and the milk tank at 1000 gallons. We are recommending that we install the milk tank in between the butcher house and the furnace, high enough so the water feeds by gravity out of one end into the heating tank in the furnace for hot water and out of the other to an outlet into the butcher house for cold. We know it will be quite a project. We’ll have to use the backhoe to move it and lift it into place. And we’ll have to build a good base to support it. Its capacity was not the only determining factor in our decision, however. It is well insulated to keep the milk cold, so we reasoned it would keep the spring water cooler until we used it. But more importantly it should prevent the water from freezing in the winter.”
Dennis chimed in, “Our intention is to further insulate the outside of the tank and enclose it to protect it from both the sun and wind. We’d place it in the east side of the enclosure, and then in the rest of the enclosure we’d like to rig up showers. We can scrounge up enough piping to do that and both hot and cold water are right there. The shower room would have the furnace on one side and the butcher house with its stove on the other, so it should stay pretty toasty.”
Josh concluded, “Aaron’s working on a sieve to install on the end of the hose in the springhouse, so no critters like snakes, mice or frogs clog it, and we also realize that the line will have to put under ground to prevent it from freezing this winter. Another chore for the backhoe. So… what do you think?”
Harvey and Dad must have been thinking. You couldn’t see the wheels turning inside their heads nor was there any smoke coming out of their ears, but both of them were rubbing the beard on their chins.
Dad spoke first. “You all did a great job of thinking this project through. I only have one suggested change that I’ll mention later.” He turned toward Harvey and said, “But first I need to know if it suits Harvey to use his milk tank. Isn’t there a chance that we will get electricity again and then the tank will be needed to refrigerate the milk, especially if the milking herd increases toward its former numbers?”
“Yeah, I’ve certainly been pondering that,” Harvey responded. “Right now, my thinking is that we’ll take really good care when disconnecting the tank, while moving it and while repositioning it. Enough care that the whole project could be reversed in the future. Larry’s a co-owner here. Do you agree?” he asked Larry.
“Of course I had more time to think about it, and I’m OK with it. You put it well Pop,” Larry said. “Good care must be taken. We needn’t rush it either. We have water in the meantime. And thanks for your confidence.”
He turned to Dad and asked, “What is your suggestion for the project?”
Dad answered, “When Harvey’s and my grandfather lived here, before the wells were drilled, the water was pumped from the spring to the house by a pump in the cellar. Back then even that old pump was able to pull the water all the way across the meadow. Before you go too far, why don’t you just lay your lines on top of the ground and try your pump from the butcher house itself or from the cellar, where it might be even lower than the spring. That way the people doing the pedaling do not need to worry about the weather.”
“And besides,” Harvey added, “the meadow floods once or twice a year, then your pump and pedal contraption would be under water.”
“You’re right,” said Larry, “we forgot about that. We’ll definitely try it your way first. Additionally we’d like to move one of the hot water tanks from either the milk house or one of the houses. The tank in the furnace only heats about 35 gallons. The other tanks are 60-80 gallons. We have the materials and the know how to tie it into the system; it would help a lot with showers and laundry. We agree it’s doable, but what we haven’t agreed on is how to heat Harvey’s house.”
“It’s a dilemma,” Jake said. “Dennis and I keep looking and looking at it. We just can’t figure out how to drive that circulator pump in the furnace mechanically.”
“And if we come up with a way to make enough electricity to run the circulator pump, and it takes a lot, we’d have electricity to pump water, too. We could use the shower in the house. Then all this design and work to bring water to the butcher house becomes unnecessary,” Dennis said.
“But we haven’t figured out a way to make electricity, so we’ll have to come up with something else,” Aaron said.
“We can build a wood stove for the house out of a 55 gallon drum or other materials around the farm,” Jeremiah said.
“Or we could get our coal stove from the old house,” Josh said. “Right Dad?”
“Well, not exactly. I left that for the landlord; it was the only heat in that house.” Dad responded.
“You what!” Josh exclaimed, “What did you owe him?”
“I didn’t owe him anything. I guess I made a heart over a head decision. Something we all need to remember to do once in awhile. And I didn’t just give it to him. He’s giving me a couple things in return.”
“Like what?” Josh asked.
“Oh, we’ll see when I come back from our next trip over there. It’s kinda like that ‘player to be named later’ in a baseball trade.”
Joe jumped in, “I can see where we all need to step back at times and remember there are others in worse shape than we are. Our problems aren’t the worst in the world and can be overcome. The solutions won’t always be perfect. We will have disagreements, but things will work out.”
“Dennis,” he went on, “I’m wondering; couldn’t the hot water be circulated anywhere in the circuit? I’m not sure I’m phrasing that right. Do you know what I’m asking?”
“Yes I do,” Dennis answered. “And I think you’ve solved the problem. If we eliminate or bypass the circulator pump in the furnace and install one in the heating line somewhere in the house and use another pedal/people drive, then we can keep the hot water circulating around the house.”
“It’s a lot of pedaling when it’s cold,” said Josh.
“Another way to stay warm,” Harvey chuckled.
“Only until we figure out another way to drive the pump, like animal power or steam,” Aaron said.
“I like your positive thinking,” Jake said, “but we’ll still need a pump.”
“I know,” Aaron answered, “one thing at a time. Let’s get the spring water here first. We’ve time to find a suitable pump for the house.”
“But I have to come back to the possibility that just maybe,” Dennis said,
“we might come up with a way to make enough electricity to power both pumps, so we can shower in the house.”
“You just don’t give up, do you?” Aaron snapped.
“Boys! Knock it off!” their father yelled.
“It’s all right, Joe,” Harvey said, “they’re thinking. And as with most dilemmas there are two or more opinions. The boys are just defending their opinions with passion. We need passionate thinkers. Think of all the people you worked for or worked with who lacked those qualities. Dennis, you just go right on trying to find a way to make some electricity for the farm. Although,” Harvey continued, “even if we could make enough electricity to keep the showers in the houses operating, would we want every Tom, Dick and Harry who might join us traipsing into our house for a shower?”
“What do you mean,” Larry asked, “By ‘join us’?”
“What I mean,” Harvey answered, “Is that we have food, water, shelter and fuel. Four things a lot of people don’t have. And they’ll soon be out looking for some. People are going to find it here. We’ll share or trade with them, then some will move on; others may want to stay. We’ll only know a few of them; the rest will be strangers. I’d rather have them using outside shower and bathroom facilities instead of our home unless they’re ill, elderly, or otherwise incapacitated.”
“I see,” said Larry. “How many people might join us?”
“We just don’t know,” Dad interjected. “Let’s not dwell on it, but let’s recognize that as we come up with solutions to our challenges that the solutions might have to meet the needs of more than just the 21 people who are here now.”
To be continued… Mort
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Chapter Seven - Pow-wows (continued)
Friday afternoon the women had their own pow-wow, with a few men contributing. All four of my grandparents were there, of course Mom, Jean, Lois, Sandy, Amy, Lynette, Mel and I. Dad was there, too. Lois was a nurse and the dominant one in the group; she had been coordinating the meals and giving a lot of the orders.
Mom had said to me, “This is Jean’s place and it could make some conflict with Lois being so bossy.” Mom, however, played the peacemaker, kept her ear tuned to the situation and had to tactfully step between them now and again. So far things had been amicable.
Unlike Dad and Harvey the night before, who had laid out the challenges for the boys, today Lois asked us, “What are our challenges?”
“Well generally” Sandy said, “our responsibilities are food, laundry, bathroom and dishes.”
“So far so good,” said Lois. “We have hot water; we have quite a bit of laundry soap, dish soap, and bath soap. Why don’t we tackle laundry first? The boys did a good job of getting us hot water. We still have to carry water but I hear they’re working on that. We have plenty of wash lines and Poppop’s working on clothes pins. Jeremiah told me last night that the boys
are trying to convert one of the wash machines to mechanical drive. I don’t know how they’re going to power it, but we’ll see.”
Mom said, “I think we should ask them to build some kind of wringer, too, like our parents had when they started out. We wouldn’t have to squeeze them out by hand then.”
“Good idea,” said Sandy said, “I’ll say something to Aaron and Dennis.”
“Okay,” said Jean, “that should cover laundry for now. The next biggest item is food. At this point, we have a lot but conservation is the name of the game. Not only for food, but backing up a little bit, with soap, too.”
“It really helps,” Mom said, “if we prewash the dishes and pots and pans in good hot water before we put them in the soap water. That takes a lot of the grease and dirt off first and requires a lot less soap that way.”
“Mel said, “I think it’s really efficient for us to be eating our meals all at one spot. There are 21 of us. It sure saves time in both preparation and clean up to have it all at one place.”
“And,” said Amy, “I like how we can take turns cooking; where one group does breakfast, another group does dinner, and a third group does supper.”
I was on the breakfast cooking crew with Lynette, Mom and Grandma.
Lynette added, “It’s also good that we all don’t have to do dishes every meal.” This had been accomplished by dividing the work so that each of us only has to do dishes once a day. I was on the supper dishes crew with Mom, Jean and Lynette. Our placement had been Dad’s idea, so that Lynette and I could join him and the other men immediately after eating breakfast and dinner to help with the cows, in the garden or in the fields. Not that I was always anxious to work in the garden or move fences, but I loved working with the cows. Another benefit was that after supper Dad, Poppop, and Grandpop would often help with the dishes, too, lightening the load for our crew.
“I’m glad you like the way it’s working,” said Lois. “So, I guess, we’ll continue to do it that way.”
“Now,” Mel said, “the menu’s a different matter. I’m getting sick of tomato soup.” Of course, Dad loved tomatoes, and according to him, soup was just another good way to enjoy them. Fortunately we still had a few boxes of crackers. Dad could enjoy his soup without crackers, so he’d share his with Mel and me. It made the tomato soup a little more tolerable.
At this point, much of our menu was milk-driven. We still had supplies of cereal and that large bag of oatmeal that we could eat with milk, but those would be gone sometime. We also had some boxes of pudding. It was hard to chill in the springhouse, but that, too, would run out in the near future. We had quite a bit of tapioca which Mel loved to make, but at some
point, we’d run out of sugar. I’m not sure how we’d like it without sugar. We also had eggs to use in the tapioca pudding and other types of custard. We probably should save the pudding, tapioca and sugar for cooler weather; none would spoil until then. With plenty of milk on hand, we could also make milk gravy.
Lois said, “We have all these fresh vegetables to eat and all this milk. I sure wouldn’t mind if we could get some butter produced.”
“Well,” Sandy said, “I guess none of us has a butter churn, but does anyone have a homemade ice cream freezer, one that we can crank, or the boys can set up with a mechanical drive? We could try to make butter that way.”
“That’s a great idea,” Grandmom said. “Our ice cream freezer is crank-driven, so we can make butter. We’ll have to experiment a little to see how long to churn it and how much salt to add to make it work.”
Poppop chimed in, “Remember, we have to use cream, so we have to separate that somehow.”
Jean said, “We’re always stirring it into the milk we use now. We’ll just have to skim it off instead; maybe someone could come up with a separator some day. We can also use the butter for frying. I doubt if the men will come up with a way to squeeze oil out of the soybeans, but you never know. Eventually, however, we will do some butchering, then we’ll have lard and beef tallow for frying.”
“But butter is better,” shot back Mel. “It will absolutely improve the tomato soup!” Everyone chuckled.
“What can we use the buttermilk for?” Sandy asked.
“Well,” Mom said, “we can still drink it. Some of us were used to drinking skim milk anyway.”
“Or,” Lois said, “we could use it in baking.”
“Baking,” Jean said, “we haven’t done that for a while. Do you think the men can make some sort of oven using this stove?”
“I hope so,” Dad answered. “We’ll get them working on it, but what about leavening?”
“Oh,” Jean said, “Larry has a 50-pound bag of bicarbonate of soda that he used to put in the dairy ration. You know it as baking soda. He gave that to us knowing we might be able to use it.”
“And,” Mom said, “I think we also have some yeast in our supplies, but only a little.”
Sandy said, “There’s a recipe for Friendship Cake. It’s like sourdough where you keep feeding the yeast and only using part of it when you bake and you save the rest for more stock. I think you can perpetually keep the yeast growing that way.”
“That’s a great idea,” Lois said. “I’m pretty sure I can find that recipe but we need flour to keep the yeast growing and, for that matter, for any baking. We don’t have a lot. We’ll run out sometime.”
“Yes,” Jean said, “but there’s a lot of wheat in the barn.”
Grandpop said, “Sounds like another job for the boys to come up with a mill or a grinder to make flour.”
“I imagine,” Dad said, “We can come up with something. We’ll put it on the list.”
“It will be whole wheat flour,” Grandmom said.
“That’s good,” said Poppop, “it’s healthier for us anyway.”
“Then,” Mom added, “the final thing that we need to remember as far as food is concerned, is that we need to stay on top of things in the garden or in the fields, so that we use up fresh items in our cooking before they spoil.”
“That’s correct,” said Lois. “Conservation. We need to save the food that’s canned, dried, or in good packages for later use and use the fresh items as soon as possible.”
“Let’s talk about bathroom facilities now,” said Sandy. “We’re carrying a lot of water for flushing the toilets although the boys are working on a solution for that.”
I said, “I can pee outside like the boys do.”
“Yewh,” said Lynette and Amy.
Mom said, “I don’t know if you have to do that Alyssa, but every little bit helps.”
“Beats carrying all that extra water,” I answered.
“I don’t know,” said Jean. “Maybe at some point we’ll build an outhouse. But in the meantime, we might have to stop using the toilet in the house and use a bucket as a toilet instead so we only have to carry that out a few times a day instead of carrying all that water in the house.”
“Wait a minute,” Sandy interjected, “We’re carrying water in anyway to take baths. We just have to dip it out of the tub and use that water to flush the toilets. Buckets we have, let’s just remember to not let the bathwater down the drain.”
“Why sure, that’ll work,” Jean said. “Let’s talk about showering now.”
“Yeah, I sure do miss them,” Mel said. “I mean, when we wash in the tub we have to carry both hot and cold water.”
“I think,” Dad said, “The boys are working on a plan to build a shower room in the space between the outside furnace and the butcher house, so it would be warm in the wintertime and you wouldn’t have to carry the water.
It might be a trick to get it blended so that it’s not too hot or cold, but they’re working on it. They’re also trying to rig it up so that the overflow, the used water, would be caught to use to flush the toilets.”
“Well, I hope they figure that out,” Lois said. “I wouldn’t mind having a shower again.”
“Tell you what’s on my mind,” said Amy, “We’re going to run out of toilet paper too.”
“Ouch!” said Grandma, “Corn cobs are a pretty rough option.”
“Oh that’s very true,” said Mom. “We have to save any paper we have; tissues or paper towels may not be used for other purposes. We might have to use newspaper eventually. Any paper must be saved them for toileting.”
“I guess no one knows how to make paper or tissues?” I asked.
“No,” Mom said, “I don’t think anyone in this crew does. At some point, we’re going to have to use cloth. We brought with us the cloth diapers that I used when you were a baby. We can cut those into smaller pieces and use them to wipe, then they’ll have to be washed separately, perhaps the last thing we do on laundry day. We wouldn’t want to cut all of them. We might need some for babies.”
“Hey!” Lois exclaimed, “No one here is having a baby, are they?”
There were blank stares all around, so Sandy answered, “It doesn’t appear so, but you never know; none of us are getting our prescriptions filled now.”
“Plus,” Mom said, “others might join us over the next few months. Some could be expecting. We also can cut up other pieces of clothing if we need to, like some of our husbands’ holey tee shirts that they love to wear.”
“Those thick diapers can be cut for sanitary napkins, too,” Jean added. “We’re sure to run out of them, too.”
“Enough talk, already,” Grandma said. “It’s time to get supper started. Who’s on the cooking crew tonight?”
Lois said, “It’s Grandmom, Amy and I.”
“What’s on the menu?” Dad asked.
“Boiled cabbage and tomato soup.”
“Oh, boy,” sighed Lynette. “I can’t wait.”
After supper, Lynette, Amy and I were sitting outside with my dad and uncle Jeremiah.
Jeremiah said, “I saw Orion for the first time Wednesday morning.”
Dad said, “That’s great. I saw it this morning.”
Orion is an ecliptical constellation. It lies on the imaginary circle in the sky that the sun appears to travel on as we revolve around it. Unlike the North Star and the Big Dipper, which at our latitude can be seen every night of the year that’s not cloudy, about three months of the year we cannot see Orion because the sun appears in the sky at the same time. Sometime starting in late July, Orion rises early enough ahead of the sun that it can be seen before dawn. Orion is the hunter and our family treats it as a good omen, an announcement that hunting season will soon arrive.
“I guess we’re not sure how this hunting season will pan out,” Dad said. “With everything else going on, it sure makes me feel good to see Orion, even though we don’t know exactly where this year will take us.”
“Exactly,” Jeremiah answered, “seeing Orion brings me comfort, knowing that some things just don’t change.”
To be continued.... Mort
Mom had said to me, “This is Jean’s place and it could make some conflict with Lois being so bossy.” Mom, however, played the peacemaker, kept her ear tuned to the situation and had to tactfully step between them now and again. So far things had been amicable.
Unlike Dad and Harvey the night before, who had laid out the challenges for the boys, today Lois asked us, “What are our challenges?”
“Well generally” Sandy said, “our responsibilities are food, laundry, bathroom and dishes.”
“So far so good,” said Lois. “We have hot water; we have quite a bit of laundry soap, dish soap, and bath soap. Why don’t we tackle laundry first? The boys did a good job of getting us hot water. We still have to carry water but I hear they’re working on that. We have plenty of wash lines and Poppop’s working on clothes pins. Jeremiah told me last night that the boys
are trying to convert one of the wash machines to mechanical drive. I don’t know how they’re going to power it, but we’ll see.”
Mom said, “I think we should ask them to build some kind of wringer, too, like our parents had when they started out. We wouldn’t have to squeeze them out by hand then.”
“Good idea,” said Sandy said, “I’ll say something to Aaron and Dennis.”
“Okay,” said Jean, “that should cover laundry for now. The next biggest item is food. At this point, we have a lot but conservation is the name of the game. Not only for food, but backing up a little bit, with soap, too.”
“It really helps,” Mom said, “if we prewash the dishes and pots and pans in good hot water before we put them in the soap water. That takes a lot of the grease and dirt off first and requires a lot less soap that way.”
“Mel said, “I think it’s really efficient for us to be eating our meals all at one spot. There are 21 of us. It sure saves time in both preparation and clean up to have it all at one place.”
“And,” said Amy, “I like how we can take turns cooking; where one group does breakfast, another group does dinner, and a third group does supper.”
I was on the breakfast cooking crew with Lynette, Mom and Grandma.
Lynette added, “It’s also good that we all don’t have to do dishes every meal.” This had been accomplished by dividing the work so that each of us only has to do dishes once a day. I was on the supper dishes crew with Mom, Jean and Lynette. Our placement had been Dad’s idea, so that Lynette and I could join him and the other men immediately after eating breakfast and dinner to help with the cows, in the garden or in the fields. Not that I was always anxious to work in the garden or move fences, but I loved working with the cows. Another benefit was that after supper Dad, Poppop, and Grandpop would often help with the dishes, too, lightening the load for our crew.
“I’m glad you like the way it’s working,” said Lois. “So, I guess, we’ll continue to do it that way.”
“Now,” Mel said, “the menu’s a different matter. I’m getting sick of tomato soup.” Of course, Dad loved tomatoes, and according to him, soup was just another good way to enjoy them. Fortunately we still had a few boxes of crackers. Dad could enjoy his soup without crackers, so he’d share his with Mel and me. It made the tomato soup a little more tolerable.
At this point, much of our menu was milk-driven. We still had supplies of cereal and that large bag of oatmeal that we could eat with milk, but those would be gone sometime. We also had some boxes of pudding. It was hard to chill in the springhouse, but that, too, would run out in the near future. We had quite a bit of tapioca which Mel loved to make, but at some
point, we’d run out of sugar. I’m not sure how we’d like it without sugar. We also had eggs to use in the tapioca pudding and other types of custard. We probably should save the pudding, tapioca and sugar for cooler weather; none would spoil until then. With plenty of milk on hand, we could also make milk gravy.
Lois said, “We have all these fresh vegetables to eat and all this milk. I sure wouldn’t mind if we could get some butter produced.”
“Well,” Sandy said, “I guess none of us has a butter churn, but does anyone have a homemade ice cream freezer, one that we can crank, or the boys can set up with a mechanical drive? We could try to make butter that way.”
“That’s a great idea,” Grandmom said. “Our ice cream freezer is crank-driven, so we can make butter. We’ll have to experiment a little to see how long to churn it and how much salt to add to make it work.”
Poppop chimed in, “Remember, we have to use cream, so we have to separate that somehow.”
Jean said, “We’re always stirring it into the milk we use now. We’ll just have to skim it off instead; maybe someone could come up with a separator some day. We can also use the butter for frying. I doubt if the men will come up with a way to squeeze oil out of the soybeans, but you never know. Eventually, however, we will do some butchering, then we’ll have lard and beef tallow for frying.”
“But butter is better,” shot back Mel. “It will absolutely improve the tomato soup!” Everyone chuckled.
“What can we use the buttermilk for?” Sandy asked.
“Well,” Mom said, “we can still drink it. Some of us were used to drinking skim milk anyway.”
“Or,” Lois said, “we could use it in baking.”
“Baking,” Jean said, “we haven’t done that for a while. Do you think the men can make some sort of oven using this stove?”
“I hope so,” Dad answered. “We’ll get them working on it, but what about leavening?”
“Oh,” Jean said, “Larry has a 50-pound bag of bicarbonate of soda that he used to put in the dairy ration. You know it as baking soda. He gave that to us knowing we might be able to use it.”
“And,” Mom said, “I think we also have some yeast in our supplies, but only a little.”
Sandy said, “There’s a recipe for Friendship Cake. It’s like sourdough where you keep feeding the yeast and only using part of it when you bake and you save the rest for more stock. I think you can perpetually keep the yeast growing that way.”
“That’s a great idea,” Lois said. “I’m pretty sure I can find that recipe but we need flour to keep the yeast growing and, for that matter, for any baking. We don’t have a lot. We’ll run out sometime.”
“Yes,” Jean said, “but there’s a lot of wheat in the barn.”
Grandpop said, “Sounds like another job for the boys to come up with a mill or a grinder to make flour.”
“I imagine,” Dad said, “We can come up with something. We’ll put it on the list.”
“It will be whole wheat flour,” Grandmom said.
“That’s good,” said Poppop, “it’s healthier for us anyway.”
“Then,” Mom added, “the final thing that we need to remember as far as food is concerned, is that we need to stay on top of things in the garden or in the fields, so that we use up fresh items in our cooking before they spoil.”
“That’s correct,” said Lois. “Conservation. We need to save the food that’s canned, dried, or in good packages for later use and use the fresh items as soon as possible.”
“Let’s talk about bathroom facilities now,” said Sandy. “We’re carrying a lot of water for flushing the toilets although the boys are working on a solution for that.”
I said, “I can pee outside like the boys do.”
“Yewh,” said Lynette and Amy.
Mom said, “I don’t know if you have to do that Alyssa, but every little bit helps.”
“Beats carrying all that extra water,” I answered.
“I don’t know,” said Jean. “Maybe at some point we’ll build an outhouse. But in the meantime, we might have to stop using the toilet in the house and use a bucket as a toilet instead so we only have to carry that out a few times a day instead of carrying all that water in the house.”
“Wait a minute,” Sandy interjected, “We’re carrying water in anyway to take baths. We just have to dip it out of the tub and use that water to flush the toilets. Buckets we have, let’s just remember to not let the bathwater down the drain.”
“Why sure, that’ll work,” Jean said. “Let’s talk about showering now.”
“Yeah, I sure do miss them,” Mel said. “I mean, when we wash in the tub we have to carry both hot and cold water.”
“I think,” Dad said, “The boys are working on a plan to build a shower room in the space between the outside furnace and the butcher house, so it would be warm in the wintertime and you wouldn’t have to carry the water.
It might be a trick to get it blended so that it’s not too hot or cold, but they’re working on it. They’re also trying to rig it up so that the overflow, the used water, would be caught to use to flush the toilets.”
“Well, I hope they figure that out,” Lois said. “I wouldn’t mind having a shower again.”
“Tell you what’s on my mind,” said Amy, “We’re going to run out of toilet paper too.”
“Ouch!” said Grandma, “Corn cobs are a pretty rough option.”
“Oh that’s very true,” said Mom. “We have to save any paper we have; tissues or paper towels may not be used for other purposes. We might have to use newspaper eventually. Any paper must be saved them for toileting.”
“I guess no one knows how to make paper or tissues?” I asked.
“No,” Mom said, “I don’t think anyone in this crew does. At some point, we’re going to have to use cloth. We brought with us the cloth diapers that I used when you were a baby. We can cut those into smaller pieces and use them to wipe, then they’ll have to be washed separately, perhaps the last thing we do on laundry day. We wouldn’t want to cut all of them. We might need some for babies.”
“Hey!” Lois exclaimed, “No one here is having a baby, are they?”
There were blank stares all around, so Sandy answered, “It doesn’t appear so, but you never know; none of us are getting our prescriptions filled now.”
“Plus,” Mom said, “others might join us over the next few months. Some could be expecting. We also can cut up other pieces of clothing if we need to, like some of our husbands’ holey tee shirts that they love to wear.”
“Those thick diapers can be cut for sanitary napkins, too,” Jean added. “We’re sure to run out of them, too.”
“Enough talk, already,” Grandma said. “It’s time to get supper started. Who’s on the cooking crew tonight?”
Lois said, “It’s Grandmom, Amy and I.”
“What’s on the menu?” Dad asked.
“Boiled cabbage and tomato soup.”
“Oh, boy,” sighed Lynette. “I can’t wait.”
After supper, Lynette, Amy and I were sitting outside with my dad and uncle Jeremiah.
Jeremiah said, “I saw Orion for the first time Wednesday morning.”
Dad said, “That’s great. I saw it this morning.”
Orion is an ecliptical constellation. It lies on the imaginary circle in the sky that the sun appears to travel on as we revolve around it. Unlike the North Star and the Big Dipper, which at our latitude can be seen every night of the year that’s not cloudy, about three months of the year we cannot see Orion because the sun appears in the sky at the same time. Sometime starting in late July, Orion rises early enough ahead of the sun that it can be seen before dawn. Orion is the hunter and our family treats it as a good omen, an announcement that hunting season will soon arrive.
“I guess we’re not sure how this hunting season will pan out,” Dad said. “With everything else going on, it sure makes me feel good to see Orion, even though we don’t know exactly where this year will take us.”
“Exactly,” Jeremiah answered, “seeing Orion brings me comfort, knowing that some things just don’t change.”
To be continued.... Mort
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