Category: Other Posts

One week of weather in the 60’s and the 70’s and we are all very spoiled! It is lovely to go outside and not break a sweat or have to catch a breath, as the cold air sears your lungs. Today it is in the 30’s again…and yes, I will take that over the year we spent in Duluth, Minnesota.

Duluth is a beautiful city on the shores of Lake Superior. I loved it from the standpoint of that lake. It was just like being on the ocean, where I have always wanted to live. I think I spent almost every day…a part of a day, down at the lake. We lived just a few blocks away, which would not have been impossible to walk.  But with four children trailing behind like little ducks, along a very busy road…just didn’t happen.

You could stand on the shoreline there, and close your eyes, listening to the waves lap at the rocks. Some days the wind would push big waves in, and it was almost like the ocean. The view across the lake was very much like the ocean…water to the horizon. Every once in a while, a huge barge would pass, and the children always thought that was great. We had picnics there, many walks, and sometimes just drove around the little park situated on the shore.

A few days ago, someone shared a video they had made of the ice-stacking on Lake Superior, taken in Duluth. Yes, we did see it in person, while there. It is pretty fantastic and a bit scary. Very loud! This video made me think of our year there, and winter always comes to mind. I usually enjoy winter from the standpoint of cooler weather, the snow is very pretty, and you have a little downtime before the growing season begins again. Our winter in Duluth was a test of my endurance.

It seems as though I would be exaggerating if I said it snowed every day that winter, but it wouldn’t be by much if I did. If it didn’t snow all day, it snowed for part of the day or looked like it was about to snow. We lived in the city and we had to keep our sidewalks clean. The two oldest girls and I pretty much kept a rotation going to keep them clean. If you didn’t do that, you were slinging some pretty heavy stuff! Of course it always snowed on Saturday night. The first few Saturdays, I made sure the van was cleaned off and ready to go so we could leave for church more easily. Sunday morning would arrive, van buried. So, I stopped cleaning it off the night before and just got up early. The drive to church was a challenge as well. Since we lived close to the lake, everything was uphill from there, including our church. Clear roads…no such thing. They were snow-packed the entire winter, which, if you had good tires, made it a little easier to get around. Now, if you noticed, I said ‘I’ a lot in that past paragraph. If my husband had been home that winter, he would have at least cleaned off the van in the mornings for church and shoveled a path to it. But he worked for JB Hunt that winter, out of Missouri. He wasn’t home a lot for all the fun.

So, when I think of winter, Duluth comes to mind. Spring doesn’t happen until about June, when the ice is finally gone from all the lakes. So, I will take the thirty degree weather we are having now. A little snow storm wouldn’t be unwelcome either. You know, to just get a bit of a feel before spring and summer begin. But, if you get a chance, watch the video below. The ice-stacking is pretty fantastic!

I had posted on this last week, but for some reason, I wasn’t meant to post that day. I tried several times to save my draft, upload pictures and post, but WordPress was not going for it. So, we will try again.

I happened across this picture of an old wagon. It made me think of Colorado, old mining towns there and the way people used to live. We have come a long way from the days of a cabin, hauling water and an outhouse. And believe me, I really appreciate all of our modern conveniences in those areas!

Fast forward to when my family was living in upstate New York, just after I was married. My parents had Percheron horses. They were beautiful…black and very tall. They had two mares they used for driving and a stallion. Max was the stallion and he was a gorgeous horse, with a really rotten attitude. (He may have been gelded by the time my parents purchased him, but he still thought he was a stallion, if that was the case!) I remember more than once, my brother coming in from cleaning stalls or grooming, with a black and blue shoulder from where Max had taken a ‘nibble’.  When my family showed horses at the fair, they always had a sign posted, “I Bite” in front of Max’s stall. You guessed it…someone always had to see if that was true. The horses spent much of their time in their stalls at the fair with their backsides to the door, especially toward the end of the week when they had had enough ‘smiling’ for the crowds. As big as Max was, he could whip around and bare teeth quicker than you could blink. Thankfully, no one was bitten, but Max sure tried several times and scared the pants off a few people.

So, back to this post. My parents purchased a market wagon, similar to the one pictured above. When they brought it home, it also looked much like the one above and maybe even worse. They wanted to use it for the driving class in the fair, but you couldn’t show with it looking like that. Enter my brother, who is very talented in many ways. (I really hope he doesn’t mind me sharing those talents on here every now and then). He took that wagon apart, right down to the nuts and bolts. Stripped, sanded and painted it again. The colors my family used at the fair were black and gold, so those were used on the wagon as well. When he was finished, it was really beautiful, as you can see from the pictures below.

The first one is at the Cobleskill Fair, my father showing with Bonnie and the second is with my parents and Bonnie. Even though the wagon was really pretty, it still was one bumpy ride! I could not imagine going across the country, no roads either, in something like that as so many did. Put all your belongings in the back…that was downsizing for sure!

My family won many ribbons with their horses over the years. I never showed, but I know from observing that it was a lot of work, very time-consuming and one tiring season! When the horses arrived home after their month or so of ‘showtime’…they were thrilled. It was fun to watch them get back to their paddocks, running, rolling and doing all that they could not, while they were all dressed up.

When I saw the picture of the old buckboard, worn and forgotten, all the above memories flooded my mind. I don’t know what happened to that wagon my brother spent so many hours making beautiful. The horses have been gone for many years now, all the tack, made by the Amish, sold and hopefully being used by others.  But the memories remain…and it’s nice to take them out and remember every now and then.

Anyone that has known me for awhile, understands my love of the Civil War era. The time period leading up to it is one of my favorite in history. It is probably because of the clothing…mostly. If I had lived in that era, unfortunately for me I would not have been one of the women lounging on the veranda, sipping a Mint Julep. My relatives came from Norway and Sweden, (at least the ones I can track) and they settled in Minnesota. They were poor farmers and I have seen pictures of great, great, etc. grandmothers sitting on the porch, in a rocker, wearing hob-nail boots and smoking a corn pipe.  That ends my romantic Gone With the Wind dream right there!

I do have a great imagination…probably what led to the writing thing. After I saw Gone With the Wind the first time, I had to have a hoop skirt. I didn’t think they made them anywhere anymore and if they did, I certainly couldn’t have afforded one on my paper girl money! Besides, my parents would have thought I lost my mind. So, I took apart several wire hangers, not an easy task, mind you and then I stretched them into circles. I think I made around three or four in graduating widths. I hooked a couple together to make them longer…and I had my hoop skirt! I draped a sheet or two over the top and proudly showed my siblings. I’m sure they thought I was crazy as well! My father said something to the effect of pretty ingenious, but a waste of hangers and time and if I had so much on my hands, maybe I needed more chores. I of course thought I looked gorgeous and Scarlett O’Hara had nothing on me!

As I have posted before, I was absolutely thrilled when I learned they had a spring ball in a town close to our town. We were attending jam sessions in this town almost every Friday night for while. So when they offered Contra Dance lessons before the ball, I was in! January and February of that year I sewed non-stop. First my daughter’s ball gown, then mine, three vests for my husband and son, string ties as well. Our two youngest daughters were not old enough to wear the hoops, but they dressed for the era as well. Of course all of this took much research . I loved it! I also learned that you could buy hoop skirts and they really weren’t that expensive. Wal-Mart had some great patterns on sale. Our second oldest and I were about as authentic as you could get for the 21st century…and it didn’t cost very much either. It was a dream come true.

The night of the ball arrived. Our oldest daughter, expecting our first grandchild, took many pictures for us. We piled our dresses, literally, into our mini van and headed to the ball. It was such a fun night! My husband probably hated it, but he really was a great dancer. He could remember all the steps I couldn’t and he was very gracious when I messed up. Not to mention he looked wonderful as well.

For me, it was a dream come true. We only went to two balls. The first one was in the winter and we kind of just put together our outfits. I had skirts I had made years before and I made a blouse to go with the black and white flannel skirt I wore. With all the petticoats beneath, we stayed nice and warm.

I do wish I could go back and live during that period of history for just a short time. I would have certain criteria of course. Before the Civil War, I would have had a grand mansion on the east coast, (way too hot for me in the south!) and on and on in my perfect world. But dreaming is what makes life more bearable at times. Sometimes our dreams become reality…but that’s for another post!