Pages 307-309

 

Across the Years  307-309

     Our garden from the window where we sat eating, was an added pleasure that we enjoyed, not only the sight, but the good we would derive from it.  My young chickens also were beginning to look more like something for the table than the once fluffy balls of feathery fur.  I would let them out in the afternoons when I could watch them, and more than once they have gone down in the canyon along Shirley Creek to  hunt for bus and worms, and in the nick of time had been recued from the jaws of a coyote, stealthily awaiting to make off with one or more.  For we wanted to be the first to eat them.

                That morning, Jim was harrowing, and Jacki8e was left, saddled at the rack, he wasn’t needed on the two section harrow.  I made a batch of fudge, and with it in a sack I went out to where Jackie was, patting his neck and forehead, slipped the riding bridle bit in his mouth, but my worst troubles were getting the top of the bridle over his long ears, one ear at a time had to be bent way down to get it through the top of the bridle.  It was lucky for me he was short, and stubby, this gave me little effort to get in the saddle, so we took off for the bench with the sack of candy in one hand and the bridle rein in the other.  I did not go up the steep road between the two hills as I sometimes did, because I could reach the bench and Jim quicker, instead I went along Shirley Creek on the north side of it to our wet line, here the road was longer with a gradual climb,  Jackie missed the horses and as we approached the top, here he stopped giving one of his brays, shaking the saddle and me and was about to let out with another, when I jerked on the reins, pulling the bit hard up on his tongue tight behind his chin, a pretty severe bit, Jackie didn’t like it very well, but I patted what the saddle didn’t cover of his small shoulders, telling him that wasn’t necessary.  He walked on obediently until we neared the horses, I pulled up on the reins again just to remind him.  Soon , the horses came to a standstill and Jim helped me off.

                 Tying up the reins, Jim said,  “they need to blow a bit.”  Finding a grassy spot, we sat down to enjoy the candy, while the birds whistled and sailed overhead.  A chipmunk came out in an inquisitive manner to see what it was all about, finally a couple of jackrabbits sailed across the newly plowed ground, heading for our neighbor’s green wheat field, across the fence east.  These jackrabbits would sometimes start on one side or corner of a field, devouring an acre or more before the time of harvest.  There was just enough south breeze to make the day pleasant.  I had left some beans baking in the oven so I knew I would soon have to go back, if we were to have dinner by noon.  Then Jim too said, “ If I am to finish what I have planned for the a.m. and since the horses have had their rest I must be going.”  So we then got up, taking a drink of cool water from the jug.  Jim kissed me and helped me into the saddle , calling back, “Follow me around a time or two and see what a good job I am doing.”   This I did.  It was all fine with Jackie, for he thought he was working too, keeping right in step with the others.  Every once in awhile though, Jim would bring the horses to a halt to pull out a sage brush or two buried by the plow and uncovered by the harrow.  Over the field were little piles here and there waiting to be burned at a more convenient time.  After the  second round, I pulled Jackie into the road by the west fence and made our way back.

                Shirley Creek seemed to murmur welcome May as it rhythmically followed along between its grassy banks, with the meadow larks whistling and swaying from the wild roses that rew along it, like some well worn path, the road up the hill to the house had become, and with the soft warm south wind in my face, I tired Jackie to the rack, and removed the bridle , so he could eat, then hurried to the house for I had been gone a considerable amount of time to find only live coals in the stove.

                Replenishing the fire, I looked at the beans to find them no quite done, shoved more wood into the already burning fire, as my thoughts turned to a pie; with such a good fire I knew I could get it baked before dinner, but what kind should I make?  The dried apples Jim’s mother had sent from Iowa. And here was a jar of raisins.  Now let’s see—butter, sugar, spices, a bit of vinegar, a little soda and crackers—crackers, I thought, I haven’t any—oh well, I’ll substitute with dry bread crumbs.  After it was all put together and slid carefully into the hot oven, again I began to think—Jim doesn’t like raisins, whiy didn’t I leave them out, but it was done and baked to a golden brown when I lifted it out and onto the cupboard.  It made a very tasty looking pie.  My next step was to set the table, soon all was ready.  When I heard Jackie bray and knew Jim was coming, and there they went past the door, with Him riding the lead horse.  He had stopped to let them quench their thirst as they crossed Shirley Creek.  Knowing Jackie needed to drink, Jim took him there also, then removed the saddle and harnessed him, he would do his bit along with the rest in the p. m When I saw him coming toward the house I resolved not to tell him the kind of pie until he tasted it.  We soon sat down, after he had washed up.  The baked beans were delicious looking and tasted the same, with good fresh bread and butter.  When time came to cut the pie.  I made it into small pieces, He said, “that smells good, why such small pieces?” 

“It's rich.” I said, “this is enough.”

Evidently not noticing the raisin he said, “this is good.”

“Oh, yes,“ he said, “I’ll have to have another piece, it takes me back to my boyhood.”  Well for once I have found something he likes with raisins, I thought.

                After the dinner we rested for a while, and when Jim went back to his work I got out the sewing, I had planned on finishing for some time and was still working at it when I heard Jim returning, for the day was most spent and the sun beginning to fade into the west.  The horses were quite sweaty from the results of their work, each being glad to be free of the heavy harness and to roll at will, then Jim would curry away the dusty sweaty hair, for each one was shedding his long hair, getting ready for summer, except Jackie, he seemed to cling to his thick, soft long coat of hair, making it hard to curry.  I went to care for my chickens while Jim finished his chores.  Then, picked up an arm full of wood, and fixed the fire to prepare our evening meal.  With this over, we settled ourselves for the evening, but did not remain long before retiring, looking out of the door just before retiring we could see a few clouds had gathered, a rain would be a blessing, the soil badly need a shower, as well as all plant life, so we retired hoping, and along about midnight, rumblings of thunder awakened us, with lightning flashing in our bedroom windows,  It was somewhat alarming at times, then a wind filled with dust and trash scattering all about, and another peal of thunder, with more flashes of lightening then the rain came pelting on the window panes, just a sudden spring shower to refresh nature’s flowers, trees and grasses and most of all the soil.  It only lasted through the night, but we awaken at dawn to a reinvigorated world, everything seemed so clean, so fresh smelling and cool, and when the sun came up shedding its light over valleys and mountainsides, flowers seemed to burst forth in multi-colors and glorious hues, causing plant life to take on a greener tinge.

Pages 304-306

 

Across the years pages 304-306

     Back at our home in time for noon lunch, which I prepared, having two sets of dishes to do instead of one because of leaving the breakfast ones unwashed.  As I did so, I thought of the nice visit and things we had talked about.  It was things like this that kept one from being lonely and gave a person something to occupy their thoughts for days to come.  Him was busy looking over the mail, when I went into the living room.  We both decided to rest and take the afternoon off and catch up on our reading for there were several stories we had laid away planning on a rainy day to do just that.   The afternoon though was far from rainy, not even the skies gave a hint of rain, little whirly pools of dust, driven about by quick flashes of wind, still at times flickered around over the valley,  then  one would whisk past my kitchen door, leaving the floor covered with duct.  There were days I would go with Jim, leaving the house nice and clean only to return finding floors, chairs, and tables plastered with dust.  Giving me the job of cleaning the house all over again, for that was part of life as a dry farmer’s wife.

     Our garden looked good, their roots were in heavy, rich soil, that did not dry out readily, one could see though a rain would benefit it much.  I took a hoe, worked around and among the healthy hearty looking plants that up to now had had the moisture needed, for growth.  I got a certain amount of pleasure from working among the fresh green plants that meant as the summer progressed there would be things there to pick and eat, which was always a treat in most countries and especially in an arid country.  Here Jim found me when he came to dinner.  I had become so engrossed I completely forgot about the noon lunch, and rushing in, hurriedly washed my hands, preparing a lunch from leftovers,  Looking out of the door, later, to call him, saw he had not only fed but was unharnessing the six work horses, freeing them of their toil for the day.  Each doing their regular stunt of rolling, with his three times over as always, then back to the rack to eat before going off to graze. 

   When I walked toward him, he said, putting his arms around me,  “We are going visiting.

     “Good,” I replied.  “I think I know where.”

     Then laughing, we returned to the house to eat our lunch and get ready.  Beauty was all hitched, so it did not take long to do the extra things before leaving.  This day had been no exception, we thought as we drove through the fate, out into the section, going only a short distance west before turning into a diagonal road heading southeast, here we were traveling through our neighbor’s desert homestead, that lived up on the hill south of us, this was somewhat of a rough unkempt road.  In those days one could take up or file on a hundred and sixty homestead and also a hundred and sixty desert claim as we had done, making them three hundred and twenty acres of land all together, part farmed, with the desert for grazing if not good enough for farming.  Beauty trotted along, skipping the brush in the center of the road.  She had been a track horse and had such a nice way of lifting up her feet to sidetrack the sage.  Here we stopped to visit with my neighbors awhile, as we drove by.  The winding road was running almost straight east now and facing us some distance away was father’s tall green wheat field and on each side of the road the spring wheat field of our neighbor and here again the road led us over the hill down into the canyon where my brother’s and father’s homes loomed ahead of us, and as usual before we could get through the second gate, Toby was on hand to greet us, barking and jumping at Beauty’s head and the buggy while we whistled and talked to him and just as sudden like, he whirled and with his white feet and tail, contrasting the black, he was off to the house to giv4e warning og out coming, but they had already seen us though the front window. 

   The smoke rose freely from the chimney, laden with the smell of the burning quaken aspen, and mother’s cooking from the kitchen was even more pleasant, for she was roasting a chicken, with dressing, and my sister had made a cake, and my married sister had made a potato salad.  I knew right now I would enjoy this supper.  The grandsons were having more than their share of fun with their grandpa.  Their mother said, “They probably won’t sleep good from too much excitement.”
  So she made them sit down for a while to calm down.

    Toby was never allowed in the house, but the boys just couldn’t hear of him staying outside, they fell for him all over, so he enjoyed the privileges of the house to lying on the nice soft carpet or just sitting, staring at those he liked.  He would go over by father, for he knew he would get a pat on the head and his ears scratched, there he would sit as though nothing else mattered.

     We could hardly wait when mother announced supper and everyone was seated.  Jim was aske to return thinks.  Then the food was passed, but instead of chicken, it was roasted cottontail rabbit, with gravy and dressing and just as good.  They were the little wild rabbits that lived and played along Shirley Creek,  sneaking many a good meal from father’s good vegetables.  It seemed to be better than the ones last year.  Toby sat back, wishfully waiting and when we had finished, mother took out a pan of scraps, when the cats tried to help themselves too, a fight ensued until mother gave the cats their food separate.  The grandsons got quite a kick out of the episode.  We had such a wonderful time visiting until a late hour, when all joined together in a songfest of the many and varied pieces, with my sister at the piano.  My father, brother and Jim sang bass, my sister-in-law alto while the rest of us just sang soprano, with the grandchildren sitting around playing or trying to join in, thus it was much later than we thought when Jim and I set out of the door to return to our home, with a full moon beaming down on us, stopping to listen for a moment to the quiet stillness of the canyon, when all of a sudden it was broken by the yapping of those everlasting coyotes, some distance off.  Toby came out to bark and answer while he continued his serenading.  Stopping only once in a while to listen for Toby’s bark.

     The May night air was chilly in this high altitude.  Everyone stood around shivering while we got in the buggy.  Beauty was plenty anxious to take off, just the touch of the reins and she was in a trot making the night air much cooler.  Jim put his arms around me, drawing me close, said, “Isn’t this moonlight night grand?”

     Mother’s old rooster had crowed for midnight before we left and mother had said,
we’d have you spend the night, if we had more bedrooms.”  We replied that home was but a short distance and so it was, for but a short while and we were there.  Jackie greeted us as usual and as we went in, closing the door to the lonely world around us, the night birds’ cry from the canyon fell on our ears, in a somewhat shriller tone, the hills picked it up, and the echoing sounds, were repeated, like being bounced from one hill to another in the quietness of the early wee hours, for it was one=thirty a.m. before we retired. 

    Soon asleep, it seemed only moments when the dawn did come stealing over the horizon to bring a new day and then all of a sudden the canyon seemed to come alive with birds, the soft cooing of the turtle dove, wafted on a spring breeze, with the questioning cry of other birds winging over the canyon, some with their sweet throated note, other were quit as they swayed and swung from the tops of bushes.  I stole quietly to the edge near the corral, there I silently stood, taking in this part of the doings of another day.  For the world around us was only a stage where mother nature enacts her performances.  There the wild roses were leafed and budding, with flowers of all description springing forth from the earth, to bloom profusely in due time, dew drops hung from the plants as a mist seemed to hover above them, with Shirley Creek singing its early morning song.  Here at its edge grasses grew thicker and greener.  As I stood thus, a cottontail rabbit or two hopped along, pausing to nibble the lush grass.  With only the snap of a twig or crunch of a shoe, they scampered away, through the underbrush to their holes in the side of the hill, there to await an all clear sign before returning.  For some time I had stood viewing this scene being displayed before me.  Now I knew it was time to go back to the house and get breakfast ready, for Jim had been gone for some time now to round up the horses and bring them in. 

     Looking to the east of me, I saw he had forgotten to remove the corral poles , so the horses could go in.  Quickly taking them down, I hurried back to the house.  The kitchen range was still hot with the teakettle slightly boiling, but just coals remained; using some dry sage tops, soon had it roaring up the chimney closing the damper to hold the heat where I needed it, proceeded to prepare our breakfast, it was not long until it was ready and Jim came with the horses.  I stepped out to head them, so they would go in the corral.  A meadow lark’s trill from the corral post split the morning air with his shrill note and continued at it until Jim began to imitate him, then he would trill and listen for the answer.  This went on all the while Jim haltered, fed and threw the harness on each horse.  Finally I suggested we eat or breakfast wouldn’t be fit to eat.  He then started off on a dog trot, saying he’d beat me to the house.  “Sure,” I said, “but you won’t after a while.”  To this he laughed and waited for me, then grasping my hand firmly, we walked on side by side to the house.