pages 212-221

ATBTbook_212 -221

When dinner was over, and dishes washed and things put away, Jim and I went up to visit with my brother and family. The children were in the middle of the floor happy with all their toys. As we walked in saying, “Merry Christmas,” and to their chorus in return of, “Merry Christmas to you,” my sister-in-law was busy preparing their dinner and wanted us to eat also. We thanked them and said “We’d accept if this were another day.” Jim and my brother had quite a visit. My sister-in-law and I visited while she worked in the kitchen getting her meal ready. “Well,“ she said, “we are sitting out here miles from nowhere but it’s not too bad. We have enjoyed this winter so far.“ She went on busily basting her turkey, that looked fit for a king‘s repast and as I looked from the window said to her, “did you know it is snowing?“ She turned looking also saying “that’s nothing new, I thought it would never stop a few days back.”  “Well we got the same where we were, it’ll be good for your wheat,” I said.  “I hope so,“ she replied and went on setting the table. “Let me do this,“ I said, “you mash your potatoes, I see they are ready.“ I also spied a bowl of ripe tomatoes the folks had given them so I washed and sliced them. “This is quite an oddity for this time of the year,“ I said holding up a tomato. "You are not telling me,“ she replied, “isn’t it wonderful?“ I said, “I’ll say.“ They were about ready to eat when Jim and I thought we should be going. They didn’t like us to hurry off. We thought it best though. When they were all seated, we wished them a Merry Christmas again, and slipped out to their same reply. “Oh, yes, a Happy New Year to,“ we called back tapping on the window as we passed with the snow sifting through my hair.

I made a dash down the hill hitting something slick. One foot went out and found myself sitting in a pile of snow. Jim called out saying, “you might as well coast on to the house that way.” Jumping up quickly, I brushed the snow from my clothes and ran on while he threw snowballs at me for I was plenty cold then. The fire father had crackling so merrily seemed mighty pleasant to one out of the snow. Mother began to prevail on us to spend the night, but we told her there were things in our home that would freeze when the fire was out too long. So she set about to fix up a dish of turkey, etc., for our supper at home. After getting warm we left.

Jim looked at his watch – 5 o’clock on the dot – – darkness already was settling in the canyon as we drove away in our sleigh with the bells jingling and Beauty's trotting right along, in no time we were home.

I took the lap robe and things mother had given us to the house while Jim took care of Beauty and fed the stock. I fixed up the fire, fed the chickens and picked up the eggs, and the lamps were next, getting them ready, one for the kitchen table and the other to the living room. When Jim came in the rooms were quite comfortable so we took off our coats. Jim sat down to read while I fixed our supper from what mother had given us. It might have tasted better eaten at mother's, but this home of ours had begun to grow on us for each time we left. We seemed more anxious to get back, for it belonged to us and we to it. And so homey. At first it seemed like some strange place we had no interest in, we had taken up as our abode for our ties still in my folks home were strong ones. It seemed as though the severing of them was something that couldn’t or shouldn’t have been done.  But it was being done as each day went by that we lived in our own home. They were been severed to the extent it was being forced upon us for this was our life, our home, we had been made one and now we were expecting a little one that would complete the union and make our place of abode a real home even though we loved our parents dearly. We realized more and more we were on our own in this world of uncertainty with cares and trials of unforeseen origin. Settling ourselves down for a winter's evening together after the supper from my mother had given us. We each took up a magazine to look through and read things of interest to us.

The farm magazines usually had a corner for recipes the different homemakers would send in. I would cut out those I like to try out at some future time. Some were excellent. Others we didn’t care for. In fact we liked the plain ones better than those with too much fuss and bother. Those we liked I pasted in a scrapbook and titled, “Recipes.“ Jim had given me a "White House Cookbook,“ but still I like to probe around hoping to Find something different and at times did.  I read until Jim noticed I was showing signs of drowsiness, looking up from his reading saying, “I too am getting sleepy,“ so putting our papers aside, blew out the one light and taking the other with us to the bedroom. Hurrying I got into bed, first leaving the job to Jim of blowing out the light. As the moon gleamed through our bedroom windows making the room still quite light for all of it was near midnight and cold. We could hear the cracking noise with a popping like the foundation settling as houses due in very cold weather especially around midnight or just at dawn and awakening to a cold house in this kind of weather wasn’t very pleasant.

 I always kept the kindling and wood handy though so it could be quickly done, then back to bed until the house warm, work with no wind breaks it was sometimes quite unpleasant, especially when the sun begins to rise from behind those lofty snow-covered peaks.  Soon though the fires were drawing up the chimney and I shut the damper so some of it would circle around the rooms. Then set about to make cracker biscuits. I rolled the dough out real thin, cutting it in inch squares, piercing each with a fork, placing them in a square baking pan to bake. We used to drop them in our coffee. With it we had a whole cracked wheat mush cooked slowly for half an hour. We made the cracked wheat ourselves by cleaning the wheat good, then grinding it through our coffee mill, then with a couple of soft fried eggs, a little liquid smoke sprinkled on them while frying, we had a nourishing breakfast. We needed it that morning for I think it was the coldest we had had that winter and while we were eating the wind came up, whistling around the corners of the house, drifting the snow that was loose enough to be picked up by the wind.

Shirley Creek below our home was almost drifted full in places. These large drifts would last until warmer weather or a Chinook wind would start them thawing with a spring freshet to finish the job. Our home was quite warm though. Hardly any wind ever got in around doors and windows. Father and brother had done an excellent job when building it.

Some days later January, 1914 came in like a lamb with not even a tiny breeze and the sun shone all day from sunup to sunset without even a cloud to mar its bright rays. From then on the days that lay ahead for almost a week couldn’t have been better.

 Then one evening at dusk our friend the coyote took up his unearthly somewhat of a crying, yapping from a distant hillside. We knew that another storm was in the making. He was still at it when we awoke at dawn. So we figured, "we better go for our mail before another storm sets in,“ Jim said, for that morning was still nice, but cold.

So after breakfast we hitched Beauty to our sleigh runner buggy with the bells jingling and took off for the post office at Sublett. For we lived in Cassia county. In fact Cassia county was on this side of the old Snake River and Minidoka on the other and while there we picked up my folk's and brother's mail also. We had quite a load with magazines and etc.  The folks had sent for something for there was a large cardboard box for them.

We kept Beauty trotting right along for our faces were getting mighty cold. In fact my nose felt almost frozen when we arrived at my folk's place, and did it feel good to get in a warm place. Mother's dinner she had cooking really smelled wonderful. Some of those nice large heads of cabbage father raised last summer. When about done mother added corn meal dumplings, making something extra good for I was hungry for things like that. I don’t mind saying I ate plenty and then some.

 My sister had gotten another new piece of sheet music through the mail and she was already trying it out. Father was glad to get his papers for like us they hadn't gotten their mail for a while. In the big box were two part wool double blankets, very nice. "Now we should sleep warm,“ mother said. “Yes, I think so,“ and I went on to say Jim’s folks had sent us a couple of nice double blankets to sleep between and we were really making use of them. We did not stay long after dinner for our fires would be out and I hated so to go in a cold house and shiver until the stove or fires warmed up.

When we started to leave mother fixed up a box of each for us to take along. Father put them in and with our lap robe tucked in, we were off with the jingle of the bells echoing over the frozen snow that crunched beneath the Beauty's feet and the sleigh runners as we rode along. We hated that job of opening the gates on these kind of days, but I got it done and we were soon through them, jingling along by our neighbors on the hill. We saw them look from the window and waved. At our own gate I was glad that was the last one for those cowboy gates are sometimes hard to shut and took almost more strength that I had to get that wire loop over the top of the post.

Home at last. I left Jim to take care of Beauty while I took the mail in and fixed the fires. It seemed good to be in our own home by a warm fire. The mail and papers were always a welcome treat and the good things my folks gave us were most enjoyed. We sat reading for a while until chore time when I went out to do what little there was to be done. Finding I had time on my hands, I cut and added more wood to the pile. Then I filled the box in the house and was in for the night.

Days were short and dusk came early so I thought I’d get the lamps ready for it was then almost too dark to read well. I set one on the living room table leaving one on the kitchen table. Then I set about to prepare our evening meal. Jim said he wasn’t very hungry and neither was I after the good dinner we had had at our folk's. I fixed something light and placed it on a tray, taking it into the living room where we ate. After cleaning away the dishes, I sat down to read also.

The clock from the library table ticked loudly in the silence of the room. The tea kettle also added in its bit, hissing in a whistling like manner as it steamed and boiled away on the living room stove. Here I sat in the stillness of it all, deep in what we were reading. When finally the calm put us in a sleepy mood, deciding it was bedtime, retired, leaving the tea kettle singing away as the fire died out with the clock ticking the silent hours away. We retired only to hear from some lonely hillside our friend, coyote, sending out his weird howl in the still wee hours of the long winter night. Our storm did not come as our friend seemed always to predict.

Several days later when a wind came up, filled with snowflakes, the light fluffy kind, for the day was extra cold with the wind and snow adding to its bitterness. We stayed close to the fire and I only went out when necessary, we spent the day getting some of our long overdue letters written for when the sun set toward evening the wind went down but the snow increased and by morning much warmer with a new layer of snow on the old. The sun did its best to brighten up things so we wouldn’t feel too badly towards this lonely somewhat forsaken valley for it was more or less that way. 

That morning Jim and I put the sleigh bells away and put the wheels back on the buggy, then hitched Beauty up and went to mail our letters and pick up the week's mail and also took my folk's and brother's mail to them. They were all glad to see us and wondered how we made it through the cold spell. Fathers said he thought we were over the worst of it and all of us hoped so. I said, “I think this was worse than last winter.“

Mother would have us eat dinner with them saying, “you don’t know how much we miss you.“ “Well, that goes for us too,“ I answered. I went in and played the piano a while to keep my fingers in practice. Then my sister played some of the newer pieces she had been practicing on. They were very beautiful. Jim commented as we all sat listening while she played. She really played well. She always took more interest in it then my married sister or I. It seem to be her life, spending so much of her time at it.

When we were back in our own home, the sweet strains of those pieces still rang in my ears. I went around humming them for a while, saying to Jim, “If I had a piano I could sit down and play those pieces.“ “Maybe someday,“ he said.

That day was soon gone. Jim sat reading by lamp light out loud from a most interesting story we had been following from week to week in our once a week newspaper that came from Kansas. It put thoughts and imagination in our minds, somewhat living in it, as he read along giving us something to break the monotony of being alone.

The next morning was nice so we are rose a bit earlier to go visiting with some of our neighbors who had often visited us. Somewhat farther down in the flats they had a three room up and down board house. He and Jim worked together railing his and our sagebrush. He and his wife and two children lived there and his mother, a very large woman, but nice and pleasant. They were all wonderful folks and immediately she set about to get dinner, saying, “You will not leave here without eating with us.“

Jim and the man went outside to look around and to plan spring work of railing and plowing. Jim’s leg was feeling so good now he only use the crutch slightly. I could see his wife was expecting and while the men folk were out, I broached the subject to her and wondered just where I could find a nurse for that occasion. “Why! Mother,” she said, (Meaning her husband’s mother)" is about the best I know. She always took care of me and most of the expectant mothers around.“ After dinner I asked her, saying I figured about the first part of July. “Well, that’ll be fine. I have to take care of my son's wife, but I can take care of both of you because she’s in May.“ I thanked her and said I was sure pleased. She was an exceptionally nice woman and seem so kind. She said she would stay 10 days with me or longer. “That’s fine,“ I replied.  I'd count on her. Then her daughter-in-law spoke up saying, “I know you’ll have good care.“

Jim and the man had gotten through talking then came back in. They had had little snow in the flats, nothing compared to what we had in the foothills or bench land. It seemed much warmer for the sun had done its best that day to make amends for some of the bad days. And, as we got ready to leave toward evening, the man said, “I believe our weather has broken, looks like we might have a good spell for a while.”  “Hope so,” Jim replied, waving as we drove away.

Meadow lark‘s were swinging and singing from the tops of the sagebrush as we drove along as though they too are putting in their bid for spring to hurry to the snowy area. “Wasn’t that rhubarb pie grand she had?“ I asked Jim. “But wasn’t everything? Where could one find more warm hearted or generous folks? Hospitable should be their name and you know what? He told me anything he had in the way of tools or even his horses, I could borrow – – now, that’s what I call a neighbor,“ said Jim. “They are really down to earth or the salt of the earth people“ I replied, then I told Jim of my plans to have his mother care for me when the time arrives. “Wonderful,“ Jim answered, “and I don’t believe you could have picked a kinder hearted person.“ “Well I have that feeling too.“

Jim pulled up on the reins and Beauty took off on a faster trot over the narrow sagebrush road.  Dust of twilight was gathering and with the cold mountain air chilling us made us want to get to the shelter of our own home. The idea of putting the buggy wheels on worked out well for sleigh runners would never have made it. Then two, the snow was lighter in places due to the drifting. The time passed rapidly. Soon we were in our yard.

Beauty was unhitched with an extra pat and a feed of grain. I hurried in to fix the fire while Jim fed the stock. After all chores were done we were in for the night in our warm comfy home with much to talk about. 

 After supper we settled down to reading which was always a great source of pleasure. Whenever I'd get tired of reading, Jim was glad to read from a book or some continued story from a magazine to while the hours away. We were blessed with many idle hours during those winter days surrounded by the four walls of our home. Catalogs filled many hours. We called them “wish books.“ I would sit thumbing through its many pages with plans for this and plans for that. Before I realized it I had picked out and furnished all six of our rooms complete with rugs, curtains and pictures. I always pictured some large mountain scene with waterfall or lake on the north side of our living room over the library cable, but it never became a reality. Neither did the things I so lavishly dreamed our home furnished with, but it was fun while it lasted, planning, packing, matching or coordinating or harmonizing each set of furniture and everything to match for each of the rooms. Of course there were things we needed and did order. A package through the mail was always a delight to one living so far from a town as we were.

The days slip by whether there was anything exciting or just plain living. The ones I disliked most were washdays with an old fashioned wash or rub board to do all of it on. Before I could get at it I had to draw water by the bucket full from the cistern and heat it in a wash boiler on the stove for the warm water to do it with. Having never done a washing alone those days became a bore. I did them because I detested dirty clothes more so. It was even less fun on cold wintry days to hang them out. I just loved to take them in though and to fold the clean, sweet smelling clothes to put them away in a basket to iron.

The next job was the ironing with those old-fashioned flat irons. Some had removable wood handles. Some iron handles fastened to the iron. I can feel my hand burning now for I never seemed to get enough folded cloth between that iron handle and my hand. You set them on the kitchen range to heat. Every time you took an iron off, you had to put in more word. Then wash your hands to prevent soiling the clothes. The best way I’ve found to get an ironing done in a reasonable time was to have irons by the numbers.  I finally managed to get six of them from my mother and Jim‘s mother. Some of the neighbors used to borrow one another’s irons. When they took them home, would leave theirs so the other neighbor could do the same.

Life was somewhat of a merry-go-round, but I can’t recall one that didn’t seem to like it until they were at wits end and had to move away. Even then they would come back sometimes and try it again hoping against hope.

We had all somehow become cemented to that country as well as our land and home whether spacious or humble. It made no difference, and always willing to share with a neighbor. Some would build just one large room until money and time would permit them to partition it off into several rooms. We always tried to thank the Lord for all our blessings whether big or little, to take life as it came and went each day.

Having started our life that way, our very first meal, breakfast, that we had the morning after the night before we had returned from Albion as bride and groom, we returned thanks giving God the credit for his watchful care over us through the journey of that dark night and asking his help through the days and weeks ahead.

We used to read the Bible once a day, most generally at evening time. We never grew tired of the stories for they were more inspiring than the time before.

We had established a way whereby we could be happy with life complete even though alone for one is never alone when God is their friend and comforter.

Days continued to go by. January was slipping fast. We were still living in a world of white for the long days and nights were still cold and the snow a blessing for the next wheat crop. Off on the hillside our coyote thought he’d help take the loneliness out of the night with its continuous yapping. We retired, the screaming of a night bird from the canyon fell on our ears. Happy and healthy, dismissed it all from our mind, sleeping soundly until daylight. When the wind whistling around the corners of the house awakened as to what was going on outside. A warm Chinook had come up, cutting and melting the snow. We were glad for it, but the wheat would be better could it lay dormant a while longer under the snow. It continued to blow throughout the day with a fierceness that goes with those winds. Toward evening little streams of water trickled here and there wiping the valley clean of snow.  By mid-morning a lot of snow had been removed. And as the wind died away we could hear the beating rain coming back from the wind. But the raindrops soon subsided, turning into soft flakes of snow that did not last until noon. The next day the sun came out to destroy any notion they had of remaining. From then on the snow melted in the daytime, freezing at night. It gave us the notion we might have an early Spring. We liked to think that way.

When February did arrive the snow was gone and fairly warm in the middle of the day. I helped Jim get his barn finished so he wouldn’t have that to do when spring work came. The man he had grubbing sagebrush had accomplished much, but he and the neighbor we had visited planned to get at the railing as soon as weather permitted. It railed better in February and March while the ground was still somewhat frozen.

Jim and I had been having trouble with our teeth and would make a trip to Rupert to get them worked on and also lay in a supply of groceries. We could not put it off long for our teeth had begun to really ache. That morning after breakfast as we drove towards sublet for our once a week mail, Black Pine Mountain in all its majestic loftiness loomed before us. The sun glistened on the snow like a jewel in the crown, fitting perfectly, as a monarch in superb splendor. It stood weathering the elements through ages and ages since time began. It stood for time immortal, clad in fir and pine trees with aspens at its base. In the fall the gold of the aspens would blend with the green of the fir and pine making one gorgeous ray of color.  Here each autumn the Indians would trek for miles over a somewhat long difficult journey from their reservation in search of pine nuts that were concealed in each of the many petals that made up the pinecones. Here they would come, old and young alike. Squaws with papooses in woven baskets hanging from their backs. They came to gather and to pack back, to their lodges or teepee, goodies for the Indian children to enjoy through the long winter months. When at times snow would lay on the ground around their closely clustered Indian village so I gaze in wonder silence thinking.

It was good for something besides scenery. The birds that lived and nested among their branches to raise their young. The deer that found obscurity in its denseness, solitude and a quiet swishing sound, deep in its depths.  I was somewhat lost in my wonderings of a mountain many miles from us with the cool refreshing springs and creeks. With it all an ideal watershed for catching and holding the winter snows that fall, gradually letting it melt and trickle down its sides, nourishing all vegetation it came in contact with. For ages this had gone on as each year came and went.

Deep in my thought Jim nudged me saying, “Were you dreaming? This is it.“ He gave me the reins as he got out of the buggy and went into get the mail. He found the folks hadn’t gotten theirs so he picked it up also.

They were very happy to see us and to get their mail. We did not get out saying we wanted to go back and prepare for our trip to Rupert, but mother insisted we have dinner. The temptation being too much, Jim alighted helping me out. It did seem good as always to be home and the aroma of mother's good cooking. My sister came from the living room where she had been reading and proceeded to set the table while I helped.

Soon seated father asked Jim to return thanks, which he did. While eating, my brother came down. He figured we might have brought the mail. After the mail our parents decided they would not try to keep us, so soon we were on our way.

Shirley Creek rushing madly on, full to almost overflowing from the melting snow, it was a very beautiful day. The sun doing its best to warm up the thawing valley. The birds swung and swayed from bushes along its banks, trying desperately to add a note of spring with their merry singing as we drove along. It was still a bit on the chilly side with all of the spring-like feeling we had stored up within us in a make-believe manner.

May would be plenty soon to think about spring in the high altitude for the snow was still deep higher up in the hills, in mountains, canyons and small ravines. The mountain peaks had given no hint whatsoever of relinquishing any of their crowns of sparkling white. It was gradually melting though for the white snow did not show up quite as low down, but the whispering pines and fir were still sparkling and bedecked with its glistening ornaments. The heart shape aspen leaves still slumbered beneath the trees along with the spring flowers that so hastily made a blanket for them last fall when they drifted down after the many frosts had turned them a golden color. And later and ashen hue.  Then fluttering down to Mother Earth to protect nature’s flowers through winter’s cold months. 

Soon back in our own home with evening coming off. The sun was slowly sinking in the west like a ball of gold over the horizon. We ate our supper in the living room by a glowing fire for the shades of night had already lowered casting it’s darkness over the valley. The weird cry of the coyote penetrated our ears from the canyon below our house. Jim said, “he’s getting bolder coming in that close to warn us and approaching storm.“ About that time. We heard a clawing noise on the side of the house as though something was desperately trying to climb to the roof and would keep falling down. We listened close hearing a faint meow. We knew it must be one of our neighbor's cats for we had none. Then we figured it all out. The cat had been hunting ground squirrels and the coyote had come upon it, chasing it to our house for coyotes are death on cats.

If you want to catch coyote just fix a good strong wire cage on top of a high post, fasten a cat in it. Then set several coyote traps partially hidden with a small amount of dirt over them around the post. This is what one of our neighbors, an old timer in the trapping business, told us. We never did try it.

We heard the cat several times more and judged the coyote must have been quite close from the effort, so we opened the door calling “kitty, kitty,” several times. When something in a bushy like form dashed through the light shining from the door, we could not see if he was holding anything in his mouth. Nor did the kitty come for our call, but that was the last we heard of both so we settled ourselves once again to our own spooky story, leaving the cat, and coyote story to the dark of the night.

After reading for another hour or so while the fire in the stoves slowly died to embers, we bid the hills and wide-open spaces around us good night and retired. I couldn’t help but wonder if the poor kitty became a supper for the coyote.  I think I still had it on my mind when my eyes closed in sleep for Jim said I called, “kitty, kitty” twice in my sleep.

Next morning when we went to look we definitely found signs of coyote tracks and tracks of the cat beside the house where he climbed up several times and fell down.

The groundhog did not see his shadow for that day was cloudy and we were thinking for sure the days ahead would stay nice so we could make that much planned trip to Rupert.