Saturday, November 17, 2012

Hitched to History


by Michael Hofferber. Copyright © 2008. All rights reserved.

It hasn't been all that many years since horses were the primary mode of transportation all across the West. They not only pulled buggies and wagons, and sleighs in the winter, but they also powered the plows and cultivators that tamed an arid land.
   
Les Broadie remembered well those horse-drawn days. They were as near to him as his well-weathered hands, and as much a part of his life when I met him in 1995 as they were when he was youngster in the 1920s.

After his retirement from raising draft horses and cattle, Les operated Blizzard Mountain Carriages -- a one-man outfit specializing in buying and selling horse-drawn wagons, carriages, carts and sleighs. At the time, we was one of but a handful of American horse-drawn carriage dealers still in business.

Continued at... Hitched to History.

Rural Delivery
Farm Supply
Out of the Past
Artwork: Horse-Drawn Sleigh Ride at Twilight in a Snowy Landscape by Ira Block

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Cold Hardening


by Michael Hofferber. Copyright © 1996. All rights reserved.

Hard frost again last night. My footsteps leave dark impressions on the ground. The breath of the cows rises in clouds as they huddle together like football players at Soldier Field on a December Sunday.
   
Fewer grasshoppers now, I notice. They used to scatter through the wheat stubble on my approach. Only a few stragglers remain. The rest have died or gone off to hide from winter.

The crisp night is giving way to a warm morning glow. It will be an "Indian Summer" sort of day, the kind we missed out on last year when winter dropped in early. Some of our coldest weather came in November rather than January, where it belongs.

Continued at... Cold Hardening.

Rural Delivery
Dark of Winter
The Nature Pages
Artwork: Winter Tree Line I by Ilona Wellman


Saturday, November 3, 2012

Fall Back


by Michael Hofferber. Copyright © 2008. All rights reserved.

After Daylight Saving was first enacted in the U.S. in 1917 (by the same Congress that committed a relcutant nation to World War I and Prohibition), farm organizations lobbied for and achieved its repeal in 1919, overriding a veto by President Woodrow Wilson.

After its repeal, Daylight Saving was still observed in a few states (Massachusetts, Rhode Island) and some cities (New York, Philadelphia, Chicago, and others), but there was no national effort to control the clock until President Franklin Roosevelt instituted year-round "War Time" as a conservation effort from February of 1942 to September, 1945.

Whether Daylight Saving was an effective means of conserving fuel during the war years, or at any time, has never been proven

Continued at... Fall Back.

Rural Delivery
Out of the Past
Clocks and Watches
Daylight Saving Ends
Artwork: Decoupage Art Wall Clock


Wednesday, October 24, 2012

What Logs to Burn


by Michael Hofferber. Copyright © 1996. All rights reserved.

Elm wood burns like churchyard mould,
Even the very flames are cold.

"But Ash green or Ash brown
Is fit for a queen with golden crown.

"Poplar gives a bitter smoke,
Fills your eyes and makes you choke.

"Apple wood will scent your room
With an incense like perfume.

Continued at... What Logs to Burn.


Thursday, October 18, 2012

How to Make a Jack-o-Lantern


by Michael Hofferber. Copyright © 1996. All rights reserved.

First, you start with a pumpkin seed, but not just any pumpkin. Seek out seeds of a Halloween or Jack-o'-Lantern or Spookie variety. You want a pumpkin that matures to the size and shape of your own head.
   
Sow your seed just before the last frost in mounds of soil and manure. And as you plant, reflect on how deeply the roots of pumpkins sink into history. Native to the Americas, pumpkins fed Indian tribes before Columbus landed and gave white settlers in frontier cabins sustenance through cold, dark winters.

Grow pumpkin vines in full sun with plenty of water. When they sprout small pumpkins, pinch off the tips of the vines. When the pumpkins are six inches across, pick all but one pumpkin per vine.

Turn your pumpkins gently in their final weeks of growth so they don't grow flat on one side. If one becomes your favorite, reflecting in its ribbed surface something inside your soul, scratch your name or initials in its skin.

Continued at... How to Make a Jack-o-Lantern.

Halloween
Rural Delivery
Holidays


Artwork: Jack-o-lantern


Wednesday, October 17, 2012

The Stories We Tell

by Michael Hofferber. Copyright © 2003. All rights reserved.

Was it a conscious decision I made to move back to the country, or was it the agrarian genetics in my blood that drew me here? The desire to grow things, to live among animals, to own land and be out in the open is not entirely learned. I am the Frenchman tending his vineyards and a Norse fisherman returning from the sea. I am the Volga German growing tulips and the Irishman cultivating potatoes. When I turn the earth, I turn my soul. I carry memories of many soils inside my skull. Carved into my brain are inclinations I only faintly understand.

Continued at... The Stories We Tell.

Rural Delivery
Second Nature
Out of the Past
Out There
Artwork: Rational Chaos by Philippe Sainte-Laudy


Sunday, October 14, 2012

Silent Sentinel of Crop Protection


by Michael Hofferber. Copyright © 1995. All rights reserved.

He stands alone near the fenceline staring out at the horizon. The breeze that rustles through the dried corn stalks stirs his tattered shirttails. He sways slightly, but keeps a firm grip on his rusty pitchfork with a broken tine.

Since spring planting he's been out there, a silent sentinel of agricultural defense. As the fields were plowed and fertilized, he was watching. He witnessed the first emergence of seedlings and saw the workers moving handlines during the early summer drought.

But now the crop is in and harvest done, and he's still standing there, waiting. I find him unnerving.

Continued at... Silent Sentinel of Crop Protection

Michael Hofferber
Rural Delivery
Out of the Past
Halloween
Artwork: Scarecrow by Susan Savad