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  • Noreen 4:36 am on November 6, 2015 Permalink
    Tags: Calvin, , , ,   

    The Workforce 

    This is the time of the year when memories come flooding to me.  The leaves are just about off of the trees, the garden produce has been harvested and stored or canned and the acres of corn and soybeans have been harvested.  So what does go on at a farmyard after harvest and before the snow flies?  No twiddling of thumbs I can assure you.

    EK_0053 (282x400)

    Raymond and Lena’s Workforce: Elvera, Noreen, Calvin and Michael. In the photo: Elvera’s dress was pink taffeta with rhinestone buttons. My dress was aqua with a white eyelet bodice front made by my mom. The boys had on tan plaid zip front coveralls. The memories bring a smile sliding down my cheeks.

    The first order of business was getting the Workforce outfitted with proper attire:  hats, everyday clothes and gloves . . . that fit well.  After school, we would join Dad at the site where logs had been collected since last year at the same time.  We could hear the tractor long before we saw the setup: a huge saw blade setup, run by a rubber belt getting its power from the flywheel on the Allis Chalmers tractor.

    Dad had been cutting logs all the day long into chunks of various sizes.  A wooden flair box wagon hooked to a second tractor was a bit of a distance away, with the amount of cut wood making a huge heap that rose over the sides.  A second flair box wagon was close to the saw and Dad was cutting and chucking chunks of wood into the second wagon with energy as fresh with his rhythm as if he had just started the project and not having been at it for most of the day.

    Elvera’s job was to pull the filled wagon box as close as possible to the west basement window of the house. Myself, Calvin and Michael were in the basement waiting for Elvera to begin tossing the chunks of wood through the window.  Much like a chain gang, Michael and Calvin then threw the cut wood to me where I would begin stacking it, beginning at a point farthermost from either side of the window.  The stacking was an art in itself.  The first row pointing out with the second row lying across, followed by a row pointing out.  So it went.  Two loads a day after school, with the big finale coming over the MEA weekend.  Over a period of time the wood room that was as wide as the house by eight feet deep was filled to the top with neatly stacked wood to tide the family over the winter.  There were a fair amount of crushed fingers or sore toes as the tossing of the wood did get a bit out of hand.  A chunk of wood is heavy, but coming at an appendage via a toss made the impact more severe.  Oh, don’t worry, just to make sure, we also stacked quite a few wagons of wood in the machine shed – just in case the winter was longer and more severe than we had anticipated.  Surprisingly, quarrels were rare.  We just wanted to finish this yearly task.

    Once the sore bodies, fingers and toes were healed over, the Workforce mustered together for their reward.  Those very same wooden flair box wagons were pulled out to the harvested corn fields with Elvera at the helm and the three of us hanging on while being in the wagon.  Elvera would park the wagons in good strategic places.  All four of us began walking the corn rows, each carrying a five gallon pail, seeking and searching for ears of corn that the corn picker had missed.  It was now our turn to chuck ears of corn into the wagon.  With each five gallon pail emptied into the wagon we could see dollar signs. The deal with Dad was, that after the fields had been walked with the wagons holding OUR harvest, Dad would pull the wagons to the elevator in town.  The money from the loads of ear corn was ours to split four ways.  Hooray!

    I can tell you that we counted our stash, we fingered our stash, we planned and schemed.  This was our money to spend on Christmas presents in Hutchinson, most likely at the Ben Franklin or Woolworth stores.  We were rolling in dough.  I have no doubt that Mom and Dad may have added to the pot.  We never were given allowances per say, for being our parent’s social security, aka: workers when work needed to be done, equals a steady benefit.  We all worked together and we generally worked very well together.

    As I said earlier on: the fall season is steeped in memories for me.

    In life, please remember to give and have no memory of it, or take and remember it always.

     
  • Noreen 6:12 am on June 11, 2015 Permalink
    Tags: , Calvin,   

    From A.M. to P.M. 

    There must have been something extra in our coffee this morning.  Dennis was on the rider lawnmower by 9:30 heading to the far portion of the acre.  The threat of the two days of rain that is in the forecast may have spurred him on a bit, and with no dew on the grass it was a perfect fit. I checked my list of what today held for me. I needed to run some errands and pick up several grocery items.

    When I got home, I was using the same threat of rain to get the last of the largest gardens free of extra green stuff.  The dirt was turned black and the Preen was put down.  Now let the rains come.

    Garden Art 001 (400x300)

    Using neighbor Jan’s shed as a backdrop, Calvin’s
    creative ironworks can be enjoyed from our patio. I have often
    thought of painting a scene on the back of her shed.
    As I said . . . a thought.

    We have organized some of our garden art a bit differently this year.  My brother, Calvin, had a creative knack with wrought iron-looking steel and his welder.  In times past I had his garden art items placed in multiple places.  This was the year to use them as a very unique type of fence.  Dennis and I had not counted on very dense Maple tree roots to keep us from the ultimate setting, but we are very content with our efforts.

    Snuggles's Hamock (400x300)

    Snuggles finds the most interesting places to
    disappear to. I would imagine the mesh of the lawnmower
    bag makes a good hammock.

    During the day of me working in the garden, Snuggles and Butter Ball kept taking turns keeping me company.  If I thought they had given up on me, all I needed to do was look for either a yellow tail or a white tail peeking out from under a perennial.  It is amazing that two four-legged critters can be used as enough company to keep me going to the very end.  All tools got tucked away and now the waiting game begins to see when the rain starts and how much we end up getting.  As I headed to the house from the backyard, Butter Ball was already choosing which of the rocking chairs he was going to grab a nap in.  Snuggles had disappeared and I backtracked to seek and search until I found him.

    The close of another successful day on Stauffer Avenue and I think I can speak for Dennis as well as myself . . . putting our feet up this evening is going to feel really good.

     
  • Noreen 3:30 am on July 13, 2014 Permalink
    Tags: Calvin, Esther Schafer,   

    Priceless Treasures – Part 1 

    I am now in the portion of my basement sewing area that I pull from on a regular basis for my projects.  The next best thing to having a grocery pantry is a stash of sewing and handwork supplies that are just a set of stairs away.

    Many individuals have added to my stashes.  For some, the craft project that looked like it would be a shoe in once the supplies were purchased realized that the investment of time and energy just wasn’t their cup of tea.  Have I ever turned down items that have been brought to me by disillusioned consumers?  No.  The memory of limited resources in my childhood have made a permanent impression in the gray matter located between my ears.

    Before I was even a teen my Mom introduced me to the wonderful world of darning socks.  She would hand me the wooden potato masher to assist in stripping the socks with holes in the heels.  The hole was positioned over the flat portion of the masher and the mending of the socks proceeded.  There was no option of throwing socks away with holes that had rubbed in their heels well after the cushion within the shoe was worn away.  Even Kevin was the proud owner of hand-mended socks at a time when he stayed with his Grandma Lena in the mid 1980s.  There is something in the “need for thrift” that remains during times when it may not have to be adhered to as stringently.

    I know I have more paper for various types of use, including correspondence, than I need.  I know, who writes letters anymore?  To me the stash of paper goods represents to me that I have choices when a need arises.  As a child the red covered wide lined tablet with the Indian on the front was only for things that were required for school.  At home when Calvin, Michael and I wanted to draw pictures or keep score in a card game, our choice was an array of scraps of wallpaper that Mom had saved. It could have been from a wallpapering project in our home or perhaps from a project my Mom helped with at one of my aunts.  Regardless of the print on one side the back was ours to use and enjoy.  I was a World War II baby and resources were measured very carefully.

    Thread Treasure

    It’s hard to share this treasure as needlework and thread crocheting is not done by many. I have been crocheting out of this bin since the early 70s when my mother-in-law Esther Schafer no longer needed them. It’s hard to make a dent in it as it represents a lot of lineal feet.

    So . . . there am I.  Bargain pricesWhen I have choices in the items I can use to create projects I do not have to first visit a retail store. I cherish that.  When the idea for the next creative project hits, I shop my stashes to make it work.  Needless to say the value of some items in my stashes are out of this economical world.

    It’s also very rewarding to share what I have with those that may be in need.  My children consider my basement sewing and craft area as a “one stop shopping area.” If I have it, anyone can leave with the wares in hand and . . . I have also been known to deliver.  Today was just such a day.  I had extra and someone remembered that I had offered it via a visit.  It made my heart sing to see the new owner of what I had to share leave the premises.  The new owner wore a smile that made it feel as if it was a million dollar sale.  My Dad advocated that giving and sharing is done not until it hurts but it until it feels good.

    In life, please give and have no remembrance of it, or take and remember it always.

     
  • Noreen 12:00 pm on February 1, 2013 Permalink
    Tags: Calvin, , , ,   

    The Voyage 

    Right about this time last year I set sail for a voyage to a healthier life style for myself. I have extended my boarding pass and will continue on the trip. There have been a few more ports of call than I had anticipated but the good news is that I have not had to turn around and begin from my initial starting point. It’s got to be either this or better and I am on board for the better. As the voyage continues I find it is smoother sailing if I keep very busy. (More …)

     
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