by Kristi Indermark
I have really enjoyed getting The Bulletin. We had Kelly and her family over for dinner tonight. Her two children, Nathan (2) and Devan (1), had a great time. We tried to get them along with Jordan to smile for the camera ... but we had trouble.
The kids are crying, laughing, needing a new diaper, hungry, and everything else!!! We are loving every minute of it!
Left: Nathan, Jordan Nicole, Devan; right: Kristi, Jordan Nicole, Nathan, Kelly, Devan.
Falling off the Fence
My dear wife suggested at supper tonight that I write something funny about falling off the fence the other day. Not sure whether she likes it when I make a fool of myself, or if she is getting together evidence to have me committed. Time will tell!
Anyway, a couple days ago I was checking hog feeders (first indication of a feeble mind, nobody who has less than a million hogs is still in the business, except me). A fence divides the two hog yards, with a water fountain in the fence line to serve both yards.
The smart way of crossing the fence is to hop up on the water fountain cover and step across to the other side. The quickest way is to put one foot in the fence mesh, throw the other leg over, catching a fence mesh on the other side, and then step down to the ground. There is an electric fence wire at the top of the mesh fence, but it's never energized, being only there for rare occasions when one of the hog yards gets used for cattle.
Well, I was going with the quick way, and just as I was astraddle of the electric fence, it bit the inside of my thigh. Hard! Knocked me right off the fence. Landed on the back of my head and my left elbow. The ground was hard. It was very hard. See stars and black spots hard.
I staggered to my feet. I was not knocked out, this I know because the hogs didn't pull out my bootlaces or eat my fingers. I immediately remembered that I had temporarily stored a bull in one of the hog yards a few weeks earlier. I also remembered hooking up the electric fence to keep him from having any ideas about jumping out. However, there is something I was thinking about just before climbing up the fence that I still can't remember. Nothing bad has happened, so must not be too important.
After the chewing out I got for not getting around to telling D about my atrial fibrillation problem a few weeks ago, I thought I better confess about this. Told her I bumped my head. Thought that should be good enough. She asked questions. Finally confessed that I bumped it on the ground. Led to more questions. Confessed that I fell off a fence. Then she wanted to haul me to the doctor. I'm still not sure how I got out of that.
So, I have a slightly stiff neck, absolutely no damage to my head that I can discern, and an elbow that shakes off all attempts to bandage the wound, so it will have to heal in the open air.
Day to Day R
With Donna Mae
Jayce insisted he go along shopping to Fergus with me last night. I was on a mission to get just the things I needed and not a lot of extra time to wander the toys department, but he didn't care, wanted to go along.
I will stop here and explain the background on this little story. I used to watch a little girl in my daycare, her name is Jenna. She now goes to preschool with Jayce and they are the best of friends, running to each other with their greetings each time they meet, sitting together on the bus, playing together whenever they have the chance. He came home yesterday, telling me Jenna was sick and not able to be at school, much to his disappointment.
As we arrived in Fergus last night, I opened the back door to unbuckle him from his seat and noticed he had his one hand cupped as though he were holding something. When I inquired to what he had, he informed me, "It's a LITTLE Jenna."
He proceeded to carry "little Jenna" through Target, Home Depot and into Applebee's. At that point I told him he could put her on the table while he ate. He took my advice and did so. When his food arrived he set a french fry on the table, saying, "Jenna is hungry too!"
The part I really got a chuckle from was when I opened the door at home, to a sound asleep little guy, with his hand still cupped in the holding little Jenna position.
The Miss Kitty Letters *
By Jerrianne Lowther
One cat seems relatively benign, compared to the mischief two or more could invent. Miss Kitty has relatively nice manners, though she still requires plenty of supervision. I think she might be teething, as she suddenly has urges to bite things. She's trying to tear up the nice kitty bed she got from Kathy ... a bed that looks like cotton candy and is supposed to keep loose cat hair confined to her quarters, which would be nice.
She has lost her favorite toy mouse a couple of times ... I needed a flashlight and a tomato stake to locate it and fish it out from under the back of the stove. Then it was lost behind the couch for a couple of days before I found it and retrieved it. These exercises require me to sprawl prone on the floor, which tickles her, I think. We've played lots of wild and inventive games of soccer mouse, hockey mouse and tether mouse. A favorite: high speed chasing of light >from the pointer that came with my Carousel projector around varied obstacle courses. (Glad I finally found a use for it!)
Thursday night I had to go out, so I changed clothes and went looking for my cat, to put her in her kennel while I was away. No cat! She couldn't have gotten out of the house, but I sure couldn't find her. I called her and rolled a jingly cat toy across the floor. I rattled her food dish and listened. Silence! I searched all the places I knew, and a few more that seemed highly unlikely. Finally, I opened the coat closet to get my jacket and Miss Kitty moseyed out with a look of smug satisfaction on her puss.
There is separation anxiety to contend with when I try to work downstairs (off limits to pussycats), or outdoors. She sat on my shoulder while I did the last watering of the season and disconnected the hoses for winter. I had to work with one hand and keep a firm grip on her harness leash with the other, to make sure she didn't get lost again. This suited her better than having to stay inside the screen door. Yesterday, I raked up four bagfuls of wet leaves and that takes two hands, so she stayed indoors.
Today, I decided she could come out and watch the leaf raking, as long as she wore her harness and leash, which I secured to the back steps. This worked out better than I expected, though she would have preferred to run free. A little chickadee stopped by the bird feeder and sang its little chickadee, chickadee song. That got her attention. Then a big magpie flew into the tree and started scolding like a crow ... a magpie being, basically, a crow in fancy dress. Miss Kitty was thoroughly impressed.
After raking three bags of wet leaves, and rescuing her once when she tried to jump through the railing and got herself tangled up, I went for the camera, because she looked so perky sitting on the steps. Oh, boy! She knew every trick in the book to avoid posing for a picture ... though I finally got a couple of a "kitty with an attitude," all dolled up with rabies and microchip tags dangling from her harness.
While we were fooling around trying to get a good picture, the mist turned into a steady drizzle and I got to rake the last bag of leaves for today in the rain. We called it a day and came indoors. I wouldn't have thought sitting on the steps was all that much of an effort, but Miss Kitty tucked herself into bed and slept right through dinner. She woke up for some games, eventually, and she's sleeping on my lap now. This week I'll try bundling her into a "frontpack" kitty caddy and see how that goes.
Miss Kitty's web log is here: http://www.jlowther.com/Pages/kitty/index.html
This and That
by Elaine Wold
It's strange that some of the things we had as young kids were not appreciated at the time, nor realize the time and the effort put into some cooking and not especially liking it! We thought it was such a treat to have "boughten bread" for sandwiches in our lunch pail, as we had homemade bread so much at home. Most of the moms baked all their bread in those days. It was a sign of a good cook if she could make good bread.
One day I was so hungry for brown bread like the neighbor lady on our farm used to make and send a load over for us once in a while. What a treat! It came back fresh to my memory when we attended the Harvest Supper at the Bagg Bonanza Farm last fall. The Bagg Farm is on the list of historical sites, and is the only bonanza farm in the country to be in existence and some of it is being restored. They served BROWN OATMEAL BREAD. and what a treat it was!
The lady said it was in the Bagg Farm COOKBOOK, which I bought, and so the other day I thought I would try it. One must remember it's been years since I have baked bread for myself. This made 5 small loaves, (or can be 4 larger ones) ... and I gave all but one away so have to try it again some day. Such comfort food and good memories with it! The original recipe was for a large batch, so I divided it for my batch.
BROWN OATMEAL BREAD
1 cup oatmeal
4 cups boiling water
2 Tbsp. salt
1/2 cup molasses
1/3 cup oil
2/3 cup sugar
2 yeast dissolved in 3/4 cup warm water and 1 tsp. of sugar.
Flour to handle...
Pour water over oatmeal, salt, molasses, oil and sugar. Let cool. In meantime, dissolve the yeast in the warm water and sugar. Then add the yeast mixture to the cooled mixture. Add flour to handle, maybe 8 cups, and more as needed. Let rest 15 minutes. Then knead as with any bread baking, adding enough flour as necessary to prevent sticking. Let rise. Punch down once.
Let rise again, then form into loaves and let rise to double again. Bake at 350 degrees. Mine took 30-35 minutes, or until nicely browned. Cool on cooling rack. I like to brush the crust with butter to soften it. Enjoy!
Oh, to have the gift to put those amusing things down in print -- the old times of hand gas pumps, of whitewall tires, of vacuum windshield wipers. To awaken the nostalgic memory of one who's been there -- icy sheets to crawl into on a winter's night, stoking the pot bellied stove that burned North Dakota lignite coal. On a cold night, 20 below, one would postpone making a call of nature until morning.
You were burning in front and froze what was behind you. Warming half-frozen fingers on a cow's tits at morning milking, leaning your shoulder against her flank for warmth. Getting the eggs out of the nest before they froze and burst; and digging kindling out from under a snowbank.
Try putting chains on the '31 Chevy when it's 20 below and you have to get to town to get groceries. Pulling the old Chevy with one horse to get it started, same ordeal again tomorrow, Then, getting stuck in the half mile driveway into school where the old pot bellied school stove was plastered with mittens drying out during classes. Our dinners were brought to school in an old syrup pail. No hot lunch program -- except what we set on the stove to heat up!
But there is also another side: swimming in the Antelope Creek's moving water -- downstream from the cattle feed lot. Firecrackers and watermelon and ants invading your picnic dinner. Baseball games in blistering heat but, please, don't ask me to work in this weather!!!!!
It was the good old days.. Honestly, I don't think they were so bad. We learned and have made good use of the experiences we never will forget.
Farming was simple then, compared to today. I drove a 1927, 10-20 McCormick Deering tractor that Dad bought for $225. at an auction. We used it quite a few years. Steel rear wheels and rubber front.
Dad made over farm machinery from horse machinery, a disc and drill, I recall. Money was hard to come by. I remember taking old machinery apart to get bolts for repairing use. I guess you would call those experiences the "School of Hard Knocks."
Editor's Comments &
Mine, that is!
I have long ago reached this conclusion: I make a much better Grandma than Mom -- I first became aware of this phenomena when one of my sweet grandkids told me, "You are the nicest Grandma in the whole world." Now, truthfully, which one of my kids gave me that kind of loyalty?
I know one thing for sure: I entered motherhood vastly underqualified! I don't remember being allowed to help Mom with either of my younger siblings (I guess it is fairly evident why -- after I let Gert slide off the bed while I was supposed to be watching her) I really didn't get in a whole lot of practice on my niece and nephews either -- it seemed like there was always someone else to take the diapering, feeding, and soothing of babies in hand.
So, as I say, I came to motherhood with little actual experience, depending instead on book learning. (I had put in lots of time reading every book I could find on the proper care of infants -- it all looked fairly easy -- though it seemed that no two books agreed on how it should all be done.)
I am glad now that Blanche and Lois had gone the way of motherhood before I entered that scary place. I remember Lois telling me that before she had her first two she had made the statement to one of her girlfriends, or cousins, or such that, "None of my children will be allowed to climb on our furniture." As Lois repeated this little nugget to me, Carol was busy climbing on the davenport while Stanley jumped from the chair to the davenport in a good game of "Follow the Leader."
As we had a good laugh, I got the thought right then that child discipline might not be quite as easy as authors had led me to believe. But, come on, if you want sweet grandchildren, you have to be willing for a little screaming at your kids to set them straight. I guess it is a good thing we all enter parenthood thinking we will be careful and never make the mistakes OUR parents made with us.
And then there is the health care issue: Now I was sure I had THAT in hand. We young mothers had all told each other what was best to be done for various common problems. The very most important, probably, was to talcum the baby good after her bath. (This is Donna we are talking about, she being my first, and therefore the trial case.) And then, after you changed the diaper, use a damp wash cloth for cleanup and then talcum again. Then, of course, if she got diaper rash -- use zinc oxide.
For sniffles and coughs there was always baby aspirin and cough medicine -- sometimes Nyquil, Vicks Vaporub, and a steamer -- with Vicks in it. A tummy ache might be cured with a couple drops of peppermint on a sugar cube. It is only after I finished with all five of my unsuspecting progeny and my children started raising their kids that they started assuring me that most of what we had used when they were growing up was outdated and sometimes downright dangerous!
(And, really, I do know it was -- the Nyquil had far too large a percent of alcohol, aspirin can cause Reyes Syndrome, talcum breathed into the lungs is certainly unhealthy.) I hope the innocence with which I did all of this "Witch Doctor" medicating will be forgiven me. Maybe the love with which I did it helped protect my kids. I hope so, anyway.
I am tired of confessing all of my foibles, so I think I will continue this in the next issue. Dear Grandchildren, just keep thinking I am the best Grandma ever, because it took lots of tempering to get me where I am! See you next week. Like we say down here... The Good Lord Willing and the Creek Don't Rise.
Grandma Dorothy Anderson
Just thought you might like to know: There is a Dentist in St. Cloud named Dr. Pull. I might have to go see him, as I developed a toothache today!
A priest and a pastor from the local churches are standing by the side of the road, pounding a sign into the ground, which reads:
The End is Near!
Turn Yourself Around Now
Before It's Too Late!
"Leave us alone, you religious nuts!" yells a driver as he speeds past.
From the curve ahead, they hear screeching tires and a big splash.
The pastor turns to the priest and asks, "Do you think the sign should just say 'Bridge Out'?"
A Perfect "Put Down" to Use in Case of Emergency
supplied by Ben H.
"Man, I need you like a fish needs a bicycle!"
Jayce was just playing with a baby on the floor. Baby Evan sneezed and Jayce exclaimed, "EWWWW, he BLESSED ON ME!"
+ LETTERS TO THE EDITOR?
Thank you. Looking forward to receiving the next Bulletin -- enjoyed every word. Love the pictures! Puts faces to names. Hope all is well there. Prayers for Becky.
We just got home from a sharpening trip to find all our tomatoes and flowers gone from a very hard freeze. Guess it got down into the teens one night we were gone! Winter is close. Burr!....
Thanks for The Bulletin
again -- interesting as usual!
I have a couple of comments... First, to Hetty: No matter what your boss tells you, we enjoy your snooping (and reporting), so keep it up!
Secondly, what do you mean by a car that is "ugly green"? I drove what people referred to as "an ugly green car" for 15 years, but I thought it was a "beautiful spring green"! Beauty is in the eye of the beholder!! :)
Miss Kitty and I quite enjoyed receiving The Bulletin
and we wrote an update for you. (Which I am using as an essay! DMA.)
A Hearty Thank You
I would like to thank everyone for the prayers, and
for keeping me in your thoughts. It means a lot to be remembered.
Maro and kids, thanks for visting me in the hospital. Lori, Chris, Weston,Wyatt and Jolene, and Ben, thanks for the flowers. Last, but not least, I am very thankful my mom stayed with me -- it truly meant a lot. Thank you so much, Mom!
THE EDITOR ------------------------------------- Dorothy M. Anderson
ST. CLOUD CORRESPONDENT ----------------- Douglas A. Anderson
ASHBY CORRESPONDENTS ------------- Donna and Beaver Johnson
SOCIETY COLUMNIST ----------------------------------- Hetty Hooper
PHOTOGRAPHER-CORRESPONDENT ------------------ Wyatt Johnson
ASSISTANT FOOD EDITOR -------------------------------- Elaine Wold
REPORTERS AND CONTRIBUTORS ---- Any one that sends anything
for publishing in THE BULLETIN
QUOTATION FOR THE DAY: Some folks wear their halos much too tight...
EDITOR'S POLICY: If you wish to subscribe to The Bulletin, simply send me a statement of that fact. If you wish to keep receiving it I hope you will contribute to one of the columns that are running in this family epistle (at least occasionally!). My e-mail address is email@example.com
This Bulletin is copyright Dorothy M. Anderson; the contents are also copyrighted by the authors and photographers and used with their permission, and the contents are not to be used for any commercial purposes without the explicit consent of the creators.