pages 250-253

Pages 250-253

                Jim did the chores and unsaddled Jackie, who did his usual stunt of rolling over several times to scratch his back where the saddle blanket had rubbed, Jumping up quickly,  shook himself vigorously to remove the dirt he had ground in his hair, laying his ears back, with a mad look in his sometimes soft brown eyes, pushed his way to the rack where the most hay was.  What he lacked in size made up for the by acting the part.  This gave us a good laugh and still laughing left Jackie to his own game while we walked, arms around each other to the house.

                Early that morning I had put a pan of white beans in the oven to bake.  I always liked to have them bake slowly for some hours.  We walked into a delicious aroma, filling the kitchen.  I opened the oven to find them an appetizing brown.  Jim said right off, “it’s suppertime for me, let’s eat. “  I set the pan of baked beans in the middle of the table, placing the other food around it.  When the meal was over, Jim said.  “we must do this more often.”  And wondered how I had fixed them.

                “Well,”  I said, “a recipe I found in a farm paper --- two tablespoons brown flour, ½ teaspoon dry mustard, ½ cup of dark syrup, ½ cup of tomato juice.  Salt and pepper.  Then pour ½ cup of boiling water into the stirred mixture.  Pour over and stir into beans.  After they have been cooked for awhile on top of the stove, put them in the oven to bake with strips of meat on top.

                Later Jim seated himself to write some long overdue letters while I mended some clothes.  We worked for some hours at our separate task.

                For some nights we had failed to hear our friend, the coyote.  We thought perhaps he had gone to another part of the country, but when Jim came to bed, the weird howl split the silence of the night as it fell on our ears.  He had either returned or had been keeping his mouth shut.  When they howl they point their nose straight up at the starts, almost sitting on their haunches with their mouth as wide open as they can get it to emit their howl.

                We somehow enjoyed it.  It seemed to break the monotony, especially at night.  This continued at intervals as though he was lost and lonely.  As day broke over the horizon, he gave one last long yap and as the sound died away, he disappeared with it into obliteration, for the day at least.  Jim said, “I’ll bet he’ll have sore tonsils for awhile.” “Or he probably won’t be back for awhile,”  I commented.

                Jim did chores, and thinking it time to halter Nig again, had taken the whip and halter and had gone into the corral.  From the sound of his voice I know he was having trouble.  Rushing out I saw Nig standing on his hind feet striking with his front.  I knew Jim wouldn’t give in.  He’d make him do what he started out to do.  Nig wasn’t in the mood but after squealing, fighting and striking for some time, became sensible, putting his head in the halter at the last command and pop of the whip.

                Buckling it around his throat.   Jim lead him out to the hitch rack to brush, curry and talk kindly in order to get a little of the fire and wild nature that had accumulated from a few days of rest out of this once range animal.  He was not turned out with the rest when they were let out of the corral.

                Jackie and he had been pals before we bought them and he wasn’t leaving him now.  Starting several times with the others, then would whirl and dash back.  Jim said, “Jackie, you are going off with the others.”  Try as we may he would evade us, coming back to stand by Nig as if for comfort.  A lasting friendship, perhaps started when colts, so thus they stood as Jim and I drove away, looking back just as we were about to drive out of sight and could see they were still there.

                On through the narrow sage road. Beauty got into a fast trot. It wasn’t very cold, but we had on our winter coats and a warm lap robe tucked in around our feet and legs for the ride of about two miles to get out mail.  The crisp air brought color to our cheeks, a glorious feeling for young folks so full of life and vigor.  Idaho was noted for its healthful climate.  A young fellow lived in a cabin on the mountainside that had come from Washington.  Doctors said one lung was gone and the other badly affected,  only a short while to live, coughed badly, but married a lady with a homestead, had several children and lived for a good many years.  A healthy, wonderful place to live if one liked solitude, for one found plenty of that.

                Gazing in the sky for a moment to watch the feathery clouds float lazily over our heads in the sky of beauty and color of peaceful blue for the mountain slopes were always bathed in a ghostly mysterious azure blue haze that was constantly before our eyes with snow glistening like a crown of jewels from their top.  All was so exciting and enchanting for this was our Idaho.

                Even to the lazy croon of a coyote who sang us a song at the close of each day, a bedtime tune and awoke us with his soft yapping at the dawn of a new one.  There were many things to live for and be thankful for.  Her inland mountain placid lakes, meandering down. One too finds a rock strewn rill from a lazy inland lake.  One shouldn’t ask for more when we view these beauties from Gods’ hand, like jaded pines on mountainsides, a masterpiece that none but God can do.  Could one ask for more or why would one want well trod busy streets when all this was for the taking.

                My mind continued to drift while I continued to think of all this and more.  God had planned for those who loved it some thousand years or more.  Lofty hills and mountains left to adore, I thought in a hazy way while Beauty trotted along.

Soon we were there.  Jim handed me the reins and went in to get the mail, and came back with ours and also our folks. We had not seem them for some time.  This would be a good chance for a visit.

                It didn’t seem long until we were there.  Toby came bounding down the lane as usual, barking and with his white tail like a sail, almost jumping into the buggy.  Hearing Toby’s bark, the folks came out to investigate as we drove into the yard.  They were happy to see us.  My sister came as we got out of the buggy and all went in together.

                Mother had dinner cooking on the stove,  She began by saying “We’ll be having dinner soon, you must stay.”  We needed very little coaxing for mother’s dinners were always good.  She seemed to have that knack.

                Father and Jim visited in the living room.  Mother brought out some goods and sewing she had been doing, talked of her turkeys and how many she planned to set.  Father with his seed books was  already planning a big garden.  My sister had several pieces of music she was practicing on.  While she played them I assisted mother with taking up the dinner and setting the table. It was nice to be home again.

                My brother came down for his mail.  Said his family was doing fine, none had been sick.  I thought that good with three children.  We walked later to their place for a short visit, and found them cheerful and happy.  The children playing outside seemed to be having any amount of fun.   We talked to them awhile before going in.

                My sister-in-law, sitting at the sewing machine, was making some clothes for the children.  The house was neat and clean with the east son streaming in through the windows made a pleasant atmosphere.  Turning from the machine the four of us visited.  The talk was mostly of wheat, gardening and etc.

                My brother was working on cabinets.  As my sister-in-law put it, “we just had to have extra space for storing things.”  We did not visit too long, returning to our folks, stopped a few minutes there before starting on home.

                The sun showed signs the day was waning.  Beauty trotted along out of the lane up the hill heading for our own home.  Jackie brayed and galloped up the hill to meet us, then trotted along behind.  Nig was still standing quietly at the rack.  Jim went over, stroked his neck and side and rubbed his nose gently while he talked to him, removing the halter, gave him a last pat on the hip.  Then Jackie and Nig took off to find the others, only to meet them coming back, for evening was approaching and they knew feeding time was near.

                Jim hadn’t more than unhitched Beauty when they were all there waiting.  Well Jim said, “it’s a little early, but since you are all here I’ll just feed you,”  I heard him say as I started for the house carrying the mail and sack of things mother had given us.

                This had been a pleasant day and an experience  I thought to myself.  Upon entering, putting what mother had given us on the cupboard and the mail on the library table, there were several letters.  One from his folks in Iowa, my married sister and others, also magazines and papers.  I turned to rekindling the fires for they had been out long enough.

                Supper prepared, Jim came and I said, “we will eat now.”  He said,  “It’s a bit early, isn’t it?” “yes” I replied,  “but thought it best to do this before starting at that stack of mail.”  He said, “oh, I guess the stock had something in mind too for they came early also.”  I laughed and poured the hot tea.  Jim returned thanks for we always thanked the Lord for our good fortunes.  And there were a good many we could praise him for.

                Jim thought the potato cakes had an extra good flavor and called them a tasty morsel.  “Oh, that’s a recipe my neighbor gave me—a bit of flour, bread crumbs, salt, pepper and poultry seasoning , mix all together, put in enough water to  make into soft cakes for frying.  I think the poultry seasoning gives the extra taste you like,”  I said.

                Soon over Jim sat himself down to looking over the mail.  Fist reading his folks letter, a newsy homey letter all about the county and folks Jim had grown up with.  He read aloud while I cleaned away the table.

                There were more Sunday School papers his folks had saved and sent.  The stories in them were always interesting, intriguing and morally  good.  I finally got around to my sisters letter.  It was an entertaining letter all about the children, what her husband was working at.  Their minds were still made up to sell and go back to Montana.  It was much warmer in Portland, but they were homesick to go back.  Thought they’d be seeing us about the first of May and would come to Rupert and we could come for them.  “That’s sometime away yet,” Jim said, “but , we’ll make plans to that effect.”  They had three boys now.  It would be fun seeing all of them again.

                When we had looked over all the mail, Jim turned to the continued story we liked so well and read until it was hard for me to keep my eyes open longer.  Finding myself dropping off to sleep several times , got ready for bed while Jim finished out the chapter.  The sun had set clear, tomorrow would be a good day.  We were anxious for spring.

                The days seemed to pass slower than usual though.  There were times when the grey days of winter were still with us.  The sun had set in a wealth of gold that evening for we had watched it and the next day was nice.

                We were up early as usual.  The sun came up flooding the valley with its sunny rays filling each nook and cranny, filtering through cracks, shining brightly through windows, God’s blessing to the earth.  It was such a lovely morning.  I heard Jim singing at his chores---“Spring is coming over the hill”—a favorite of his he had learned as a boy.