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