gold rush

The rush is on to get the crops harvested. It's not as frantic as it would be if they were harvesting later - say in early November or later.

It's a beautiful site to see the corn flowing into the grain haulers. The bushels-per-acre numbers are pretty high this year which is good news for the farmers.

more corn

I'm sure that some readers will sigh and say to themselves, "Oh no, more corn!", but this is a view that holds some kind of magic for me. Being raised in a concrete carpeted suburb of the big city by the lake (Chicago) made me claustrophobic. On Sunday drives in the country with our family (remember those?) I was mesmerized by the open fields of corn and soybeans.

Although this isn't the real big sky country, it's close enough for me.

A friend of mine was visiting from Oklahoma one summer. Weather conditions had created a Godzilla corn crop that year - some stands upwards of 10-12 feet tall. On our way to town I drove her down a narrow back road running through a gauntlet of this huge corn. It was a literal tunnel of corn, green and squeaking. She seemed uneasy and turned to me and said, "I'm going home tomorrow. This corn is scaring me and it's way too green here."

Well, that's a novel way to get rid of a houseguest - drive them through some scary corn!

ghosts

These concrete structures are all that's left of a railroad line that ran through this area. The passage of time has dimmed the realization of how important the railroads were to the development of this country. Towns were made or broken on the decision of where the rails would be laid.

A little further east of here the rail bed is now a jogging and bike path.

rustle

Many people have reported hearing the corn squeak. I have yet to hear that from the cornfield, but you know it's fall when the corn begins to rustle.

It's always windy here in northern Illinois and nothing is more reassuring that the heat of summer will soon be gone that a field full of drying corn.

One of the farmers has started harvesting but it seems awfully early to me, and his corn is somewhat still green. There's a science to harvest and it involves the moisture content.

NOTE: Thanks to all who continue to visit and comment. The posts have been infrequent due to the continuing demolition/remodeling project after the basement flood.

sisterhood of the traveling potato chip can

Do you remember the story of the homesick potato chips?

I had posted a photo of preparations for Garfield Farm Museum's first annual barn sale.



Loyal reader and Florida resident Susan view the photo and zeroed in on the Jay's Potato Chip can, which was a nostalgic reminder of her original home in northern Illinois. It's amazing what little things can trigger memories and emotions. Susan e-mailed me, asking if there was a possibility that I could purchase the can in her behalf. I was more than willing and Donna Neiler and Denise Morgan (pictured below)helped me with my task.




Soon the homesick potato chip can was on it's way to sunny Florida and it's new home with Susan, who would greatly appreciate it's value as an icon of Illinois culture. Yum.....the can was filled with a fresh bag of Jay's chips before it left on it's journey.

Susan was a good sport and agreed to give the can a complete tourist-worthy tour of Naples, Florida. AND she snapped this great photo of the can visiting Naples City Hall.



If you've ever spent time away from the place you consider "home", you'll identify with Susan and her quest for the homesick potato chips!

storefront

This is a storefront that represents small town America. It's in Plano, Illinois but it could be in an one of a thousand communities across this land. It's in stark contrast to the slick storefronts at the "lifestyle" mall about 10 miles from here. I never seem dressed up enough to enter some of those places. Adrienne Vittadini has shuttered her shop at the mall. It seems that the demographics of our community haven't yet shifted fully in her favor. Farm & Fleet is doing quite well just 10 miles east.

Yet looking at the photo I realize that this image exists in large urban areas, just not in the swanky shopping venues. All the little neighborhoods surrounding downtown Chicago have thousands of small independent businesses, many with their own ethnic identities.

I believe I'm dressed just fine to enter this office supply store.

plano

It's been a number of years since I drove through Plano (Illinois, not Texas). A month or so ago I was made aware of a photography contest sponsored by a number of groups; Citizens Against the Sprawlway, Friends of the Fox River, Kendall Citizens for Farmland Protection, Valley of the Fox Chapter of the Sierra Club and Aux Sable Creek Watershed Coalition. The contest is entitled, "What We'll Lose" and the images are to emphasize what will be lost if the billion dollar Prairie Parkway highway project is constructed.

As loyal readers know, this is a subject close to my heart. It is, in fact, one of the premises of my blog - recording a rural way of life that is being paved under by rampant development.

Unfortunately, due to recent weather related issues here at home I've been unable to schedule the drive down to Plano. But the deadline for the contest loomed large and so with great anticipation I drove down Route 47, planning to spend a morning getting shots and an afternoon and evening editing and cropping. (No other adjustments allowed in this contest).

There are three categories in the contest - Agriculture, Rural (small town life), and Environment. Basically I came back with a few images but in reality, empty handed.

The very sad truth of the matter, and the only "story" I could find to tell was that it's already too late. It appears the genie is out of the bottle and has been for years. Huge swaths of farmland are blanketed with tract homes in subdivisions with names concocted by clever marketing departments. "Churchill Farms" employs a large barn to stake it's claim to the once green soybean field, now covered with a new crop of homes. Strip mall after strip mall line both sides of Route 34 and a large center with a Kohl's and Target have sucked business out of the downtown area.

Driving up and down searching for a viable working farm was an exercise in futility. Corn cribs rusted in the bright sunshine and other farmhouses had obviously been renovated into executive digs. Perhaps I simply didn't drive down the right roads.
The downtown area of Plano had a nice small town feel but my photos seemed uninspired. On to the "Environment" category.

I found a cool spot on the edge of town where there was a one-lane bridge. It crossed the Big Rock Creek and there was an architecturally interesting bridge in the background. Unfortunately the "too late" point was drive home again as this idyllic spot was covered with huge paving equipment, literally belching fire as it puffed it's way across the bridge, black stinky smoke obscuring the lovely view.

I was saddened by the trip and it's implications for those who seek to preserve a culture and a way of life. I'm saddened for the organizers of the photo contest because it appears the fabric of the area has already changed. If the Prairie Parkway is not built how will this narrow swath of land be saved from housing and retail developers?

water

A quick search of my photo archives turned up this photo of "water". At this point it's the best I can do without firing up the external hard drive for pictures of the dam in town.

I didn't know what was in store for me the last time I posted saying "see you in a week." I returned without any interesting images from Hot Springs as my camera decided to misbehave.

On the return trip I stopped for the night in the very small town of Litchfield, south of Springfield, Illinois. This Hampton Inn was a big surprise and a jewel worth mentioning. Litchfield is just off the interstate and lies smack in the middle of millions of acres of corn and soybean fields, so it's not exactly the place you'd expect to find a hotel room that rivals some of the best rooms I've ever occupied. It was beautifully decorated, spotlessly clean and even smelled fabulous. They feature a bed that rivals Westin's "Heavenly Bed".

It's a good thing that the folks at Hampton pampered me on that Thursday night because as I snuggled in luxury sheets the farmer and the farmers son were dealing with some of the worst thunderstorms to hit northern Illinois in many years. On Friday morning I pulled into the driveway feeling all refreshed, which was a good thing because I walked in to find the power had been out and the battery back up pump had been overwhelmed by the deluge of water. Unfortunately the farmer slept through it all or he'd have fired up the generator. Water, water, everywhere..... filling the basement up to 3 inches.

The farmer's son is spearheading the demolition and clean up. I'm on his team and therefore posts might be spotty for awhile. Thanks Betty Western for your concern and the assurances that I do actually have a fan base!

I ask for some good thoughts at this point, but NOT for my family. A flooded basement is merely an inconvenience in our lives. I ask for your thoughts to be directed to the people of Honduras and Guatemala, who are victims of the latest hurricane. They are the ones that have been put in harms way by water. The wonderful people we met on our travels in Guatemala now face a more insidious danger - mudslides or lahars. These terrible events bury entire villages.

In the photo above our tour guide in Grand Cayman (last February) points out the areas damaged from the last big hurricane that tore across the island. I'm assured that Cayman was a lush tropical paradise but the hurricane had reduced it to looking like a scrubby little sandbar.

small town America

Thanks for coming along with me to Hannibal, Missouri. The town is a good ambassador for small town America.

I always love visiting a place for the very first time. I feel an enthusiasm for new experiences.

Tomorrow morning I'll be leaving on another field trip, this time back to Hot Springs, Arkansas. You've visited there with me before, but perhaps this time I'll come back with new images and interesting experiences to share.

See you in a week!

bride

When we left the hotel to attend the Mark Twain performance, the employees were putting the finishing touches on preparations for a wedding reception. When we returned later in the evening the party was in full swing.

In addition to the large ballroom the lobby was being pressed into service as overflow space and wedding cake was being laid out on tables for guests to help themselves.

I was tempted....but instead I grabbed a quick shot of the lovely bride. Dark conditions and no flash creates a dreamy effect that's interesting.

Mark Twain Himself

"I like a good story well told. That is the reason I am sometimes forced to tell them myself." - Mark Twain

On our recent trip we spent a pleasant Saturday evening in the Planter's Barn Theater in downtown Hannibal.

Veteran stage actor Richard Garey has put together a compilation of Twain material and presents it in a one-man show entitled, "Mark Twain Himself." The barn is charming and the set is beautifully crafted. There's coffee, tea and cookies to enjoy during the show.

Garey worked for over 4 years to close the deal on the property, once a livery stable behind the hotel which is no longer standing. I admire the entrepreneurial spirit which drives this type of venture.

Garey deftly portrays Twain's humor and wit and nothing compares with live theater.

Apart from his books, Twain made a good living on the lecture circuit and this show reflects that part of his career.

midwesterners

No trip to Hannibal, Missouri would be complete without a ride on a Mississippi riverboat. Included in our "Passport" ticket was an leisure afternoon aboard the Mark Twain. The weather was perfect and the river was beautiful. There isn't really much to see besides some islands and the grain barges headed to New Orleans.

We sat in a small forward area on one of the upper decks. The space was just large enough for 4 chairs and after a short while this couple came and sat down. This is Vicki and Joseph Miller from St. Louis. We had some good conversation and I discovered that they come to Hannibal a couple times a year, just for a weekend getaway. They join a large number of people who travel with their pets. Their cat was along for the trip.

It didn't take long to discover that Vicki and Joseph are two of those people who exude a generous spirit. We much enjoyed our time shared on the deck of the Mark Twain, the men drinking beers and the ladies concurring that THE drink is Tanqueray and tonic. Cheers to the Millers!

apothecary shop

Visits to historical spots such as the Lincoln Museum in Springfield, Illinois or Mark Twain's boyhood home bring a realization that in those days many children did not survive their childhoods.

Mary Todd Lincoln lived in mortal fear for her children after one of her sons died. She pretty much kept them prisoners in their own home.

Samuel Clemens mother attempted to keep the children inside during a virulent outbreak of the measles in Hannibal, Missouri. Samuel Clemens, a young boy at the time decided that enough was enough, and that he was tired of the drama and suspense. He marched up to the house of his friend, who was bedridden with measles, effectively exposing himself to the disease. He did catch the measles and was very sick.

Pictured above is the restored apothecary shop with sold the patent medicines his mother poured down his throat. It was mostly alcohol I'm told.

the weaver

While in Hannibal we walked into a storefront and found Nancy Lee Kaufman hard at work on her loom. Her shop was filled with beautiful items including jackets and ruanas.

The tags on her items read "Santa Fe & San Diego", so I asked her if she also had shops there. She's been out west for 30 years or so and has just recently returned to the midwest, relocating her base of operations.

We chatted for awhile and Nancy told me that it was time to leave the vast expanses of the west and envelope herself as she put it, "in the nurturing qualities of the midwest."

We were lucky to find her at work that day, because her shop hours are by chance or by appointment.

cave art

Many years ago visitors into the cave did so by torchlight or lanterns. These forms of light created sooty residue on the upper surfaces and this residue in turn provided a "scratch board" for artists to render their work.

This is a pretty good representation of Samuel Clemens, a.k.a. Mark Twain. Our cave tour guide Sean told us that there were over 500,000 signatures in the cave. And one mans graffiti is another archaeologists historical record. Caves must be a natural spot for graffiti because man has been created art in caves for a very long time. A cave in Lascaux, France is a very good example. Talent abounded way back when.

When I think about it, more recent signatures have a graffiti tone to them, but something happens when a signature is dated 1853.....it seems more legitimate. Why is that do you think?





The Lascaux painting is awesome but the scratch image of Clemens is pretty good too especially considering it was about 10 foot up the rock face. And no, Sean didn't let us out of his sight long enough to "sign" the cave, and that's definitely frowned upon so there won't be many entries from 2007.

spelunking

The farmer and I are of two minds when it comes to travel. We love eco-travel and adventure travel. One of our trips involved leap-frogging around Central America in a Cessna Caravan. Over a number of years we've been able to visit most of the major Mayan ruins in North America. With some connections we visited a small site that is not accessible to the public.

But we also love the good old fashioned touristy travel of our childhoods - think roadside attractions and alligator wrestlers. The trip to Hannibal, Missouri contained a few of those elements including a tour of Mark Twain Cave, alternately known in the brochures as Tom Sawyers Cave.

Hannibal has their limited number of attractions very well organized and if you visit Mark Twain's boyhood home first you can buy a "passport" that will save you some money and provide you with tickets to several combinations of attractions.

Pictured here is our cave tour guide, Sean. The young people who work these jobs, including the tour guide on the Disney World Jungle ride, have developed a way to combat the boredom of their jobs - they build a repertoire of really bad jokes. The Disney World tour guide almost found himself pitched overboard by the boatload of really cranky tourists who'd endured Disney's famous "hidden line". You probably know what I'm talking about.

We really don't mind the bad jokes but we're always looking for some good information to go along with the attempts at humor and Sean skillfully provided that.

Mark Twain cave is very different from other caves we have visited, most notably Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. Twain's cave is a series of twisting passages with no large open spaces. The formations are interesting and the air was nice and cool.

This sign says, No Smoking - No Dogs. What it doesn't say is "No Parents with Tiny Children and Strollers". Yes, as you can imagine a very small child would not be happy with the cave experience. And a stroller in the cave??? What are you thinking?

Mark Twain cave is worth a visit if you're in the area.

discovery

Our recent trip to Hannibal, Missouri unearthed a surprising and unexpected discovery.

As a child I witnessed a cultural phenomenon that was being observed each day in the northeast Tennessee town of Clarksville where my grandfather lived. It's called a "Buzzard's Roost". What it consists of is a fluid group of men, upper middle age and older (those with some time on their hands) who meet every day at a predetermined location. The purpose of the "roost" is to provide a spot to chew the fat, discuss the weather, politics or whatever strikes their fancy.

The buzzard's roost in Clarksville was a low wall that surrounded the county courthouse. The men sat along the wall and did whatever roosting buzzard's do. When I say fluid I mean that men come and go at different times and the mix is changing throughtout the day. Most at that time were tobacco farmers or tradesmen. My grandfather was a carpenter.

Times changed, life got faster and buzzard's roost and the old cultural habits died. I don't think there's been anyone sitting on that courthouse wall in many, many years. I was pretty sure the phemonenon was dead. Perhaps there was a cultural anthropology student that had done a thesis on the subject.

After a morning spent touring Tom Sawyer's cave just outside Hannibal, we returned to town and ducked into a small bar/restaurant for an early lunch. It wasn't quite 11:30 and the place was empty except for a motorcyclist and these three men.

It took me under 30 seconds to recognize the fact that I'd stumbled upon an artifact - an honest-to-goodness buzzard's roost! The conversation followed the roadmap set down by cotton and tobacco farmers. Within 10 minutes another man joined the group, slipping easily into the framework.

I'd witnessed Illinois dairy farmers meeting up for breakfast after morning milking but that wasn't a true buzzard's roost. This was the real thing at a place called "Rumor Has It". How perfect is that?

time travel

After two days in Galena, Illinois, I returned home and repacked to head out to Hannibal, Missouri with the farmer. It's a nice drive from our home, probably what's referred to as a "one tank trip". Being located in Northern Illinois there are alot of interesting places to visit that require only one tank (or thereabouts).

When you head west out of Springfield, Illinois you'll have the road to yourself. Hannibal is tucked along the bank of the Mississippi just across from Illinois. It's the boyhood home of Samuel Clemens, better known by his pen name, Mark Twain.

Time travel books, with their promise of transporting you to another place and time were always fascinating to me. Unfortunately time has also done unkind things to the vivid imagination I once enjoyed as a child when my mind could efficiently transport me to a saddle on a Palomino, riding alongside Gene Autry. No one could convince me that it wasn't so.

But still it's fun to try and imagine you're watching Clemens run in the front door, past this desk with it's quill and ink and Bible.

I'm very glad there are people committed to preserving the past. It allows us adults to attempt to imagination flying once again.

new technology

I remember many more antique stores in Galena when we visited 10 years ago. There didn't seem to be as many. But I was taken with the display in this window.

Unfortunately I'm old enough to remember when television was the latest technology and we owned a TV just like this one. You can't see it in this shot but this TV was actually working and tuned into one of the major networks!

Other items in the window bring back memories - Sea Monkeys for example. There's a Moses Action Figure and a Rosie the Riveter figure too.

historic preservation

When we visited Galena about 10 years ago it was apparent that time had taken it's toll of many of the old and historic structures. Preserving history and restoring properties takes time and money. On this trip to the town it was apparent that good fortune has allowed investors to invest both in projects aimed at saving and upgrading the older buildings.

Galena is not in need of a fancy fitness center because historic preservation can be hot, body building work.



Of course you realize I do not, as a rule, post photos of partially clothed men, but this was the scene as a building was being restored. My point is that this work is actually healthy for you, so call today and get involved in a preservation project near you.

Another reason why there's no need for a gym in this town lies in the lay of the land. No stair stepper is required when groceries need to be carried up this sidewalk.



Here is a glimpse of the streets, preserved in time. First is a brick street appeared:



... this is the cobblestone, which had to provide quite a ride in a horse-drawn wagon.

who's buried in grant's tomb?

Galena was once home to General Ulysses S. Grant. He was born in Ohio and arrived in Galena in 1860 after retiring from a military career. The plan was that he would join his father and brothers in business, but Grant was not a shopkeeper. In 1861 he left to command troops in the Civil War and upon his return the citizens of Galena presented the General and Julia Dent Grant a fully furnished home on the east side of the river. They made this town their home until 1868 when Grant was elected President. As she left for Washington, Julia Grant vowed never to return the what she considered a rough-and-tumble, uncivilized town.

The house was left standing with only sporadic visits by General Grant. In 1904 their children donated the home to the city with the stipulation that it be maintained in memory of their father. Grant's home is unusual in the fact that it is filled with original furnishings, down to the salt shakers.

Follow the link to view the home. For some reason I didn't take a photograph! It is a modest home in comparison to some of the ostentatious mansions overlooking Galena from the hillside. Here's one of the beautiful examples of Galena architecture:




This hints at the challenges facing homeowners on a day-to-day basis.

The answer? No one is "buried" in Grant's Tomb. Ulysses and Julia are "entombed" in Grant's Tomb in New York. There was a possibility that he would be buried in Galena as it was one of the spots he requested. His wish was to be laid to rest in one of three spots but NOT Washington.

galena territory

Last week I visited two different Mississippi River towns. On Wednesday and Thursday I joined seven of my neighbors on an excursion to Galena, Illinois. Although technically not on the Mississippi it still qualifies as a river town.

As a midwesterner, with the mindset that we're the middle child, it's difficult to wrap your mind around the fact that we were once considered America's far northwest territory.

Galena is named for the ore and lead ore is what drove it's growth. The town stands along the Galena River which connects to the Mississippi a few miles west. Steamboats would dock in Galena to ship the ore to farflung places.

The fortunes of Mississippi River towns have risen and fallen, mirroring the flooding and drought along the river. Ore was discovered and played out, leaving the community scrambling to reinvent itself many times over. Some of the river towns have not fared so well, but Galena and Hannibal, Missouri laid claim to some famous residents and a thriving tourist trade was nurtured.

There's an energy that pulses through these communities and I found myself having difficulty describing the feeling. Luckily I picked up the most recent version of Mark Twain's biography, edited by Charles Neider. Neider sums it up pretty well in the introduction to the book:

"(the book) .... is the product of a highly original yet representative mind and it brings back the tone and flavor of an America which was young and optimistic, a homespun, provincial America but an America with greatness in its heart. Thoreau's America may have contained many lives of quiet desperation. Mark Twain's decidedly did not. The midwestern and western frontiers were not the America of Concord and Boston."

Here's a portion of the main street. The white building on the left is made of cast iron, the pieces brought up river from St. Louis.

in search of the perfect piece of pie

As I have said before, here at the farmers wife we spare no expense to provide you with an authentic midwest experience.

Earlier in the week I spent two days in historic Galena, Illinois along the Mississippi. Today I am in Hannibal, Missouri, the boyhood home of Mark Twain. We must pack in enough experiences to last us through the long and cold winter and create fair weather memories while we can.

Sorry, there's no way to post pictures at this time but be assured that there are some interesting things to report and see from here on the mighty Mississippi. River towns seem to share some qualities.

We had dinner this evening at Lulabelle's Restaurant and B & B. It was once a bordello and now provides hospitality of a different nature. The bus boy was a curious person, wanting to know where the diners were from. He talked about the growth of St. Louis, 100 miles to the south, and stated his hope that some of the development would reach his little part of the world. I suggested that he enjoy the lovely and peaceful little town that he calls home. But you know what they say about the bright lights of Paree.....or Chicago.

big boys - big toys

It's my belief that everyone needs a hobby. Heck, I have one, or two. Around here there are some boys who have big toy hobbies. Not far down the road is a landing strip and staging area for the Fox Valley Aero Club. They fly impressive radio controlled aircraft of all kinds. Their hobby isn't quite as impressive in size as the steam powered boys. We'll visit them again later this summer - with their behemoth coal-burning, steam spitting tractors, steam shovels and threshers.

This gentlemen is making last minute adjustments to his plane before takeoff.



Most of the planes are rigged with their own miniature crew.



This plane is shaped like a yellow bird and comese complete with a tiny tweetie bird pilot with a scarf around his neck.



We were impressed with the jet. Yep, sounded like a jet and was fast, fast, fast.

pied piper of barbecue

There's not much that can pass for barbecue north of the Mason-Dixon line and even less in this part of the midwest. Here's an authentic entry into the barbecue world not far from my house.

I was driving down La Fox Road when I detected the aroma of hickory wood smoke - yep, I smelled the operation before it came into view. It's hard to miss Larry Hopper's custom made barbecue trailer - it's BIG RED. The truck's red too, as is Larry's shirt, which can only mean one thing - he's a Razorback fan. The farmer and I knew immediately that we were in for an awesome pulled pork sandwich. I know, I know, those of you from Houston or Kansas City will argue with me but my Tennessee and Florida panhandle roots proclaim and pulled pork is the grail of barbecue.



Here's Larry himself, lifting the lid on his specially made, water-cooled smoker grill. I'm so hungry just looking at this image. Hopper's also serves the Texas variety of barbecue - beef brisket. Some Texans, relocated here during a company merger, have already sniffed out his operation and become good customers.

Within the next few months Larry and his crew will build out a storefront in Campton Center, the location of yesterdays farmer's market. He needs to work fast because I cna't imagine him cooking barbecue in our winter conditions.

UPDATE:
We stopped for barbecue on the way through Wasco on Sunday. The pulled pork wasn't quite ready yet so I made good on my promise to myself to try the brisket.



I apologize to all the Texans, whose judgment I doubted. WOW - I think I'm a convert.

farmers market

We're deep into the farmer's market season. Almost every town has a market or two and this one is just starting up at Campton Center in the little town of Wasco west of St. Charles.

There were only 3 or 4 vendors this day and they were being challenged by the high winds which were threatening to launch their canopies airborne. Unfortunately that left them at the mercy of the sun and one woman's beautiful chocolate covered strawberries were soon in meltdown mode. Locally produced, hormone free beef was also available at this market so if you're in the area check it out on Saturday mornings.

field of dreams

We haven't checked in on the corn in awhile. It's progressing nicely and surpassed the traditional benchmark of "knee high by the 4th of July". The recent heat was needed for the development and there has been a good amount of precipitation to keep things green.

My stepfather was quite a character, traveling the back roads of the U.S., always in search of the perfect piece of pie. His mother experienced every farm woman's nightmare when, at age 12, he fell into a threshing machine and lost his leg. His life was a series of physical challenges. As a chemical engineer he was severely burned in an industrial accident.

At the end of his life he loved nothing more that to sit in a chair on the porch of his home in Coal City, Illinois and watch the corn grow.

"Quite meditative," he would say.

I agree.

cool down

It's a good thing there were enough photos from the barn sale to last a week. The weather had turned stinking hot and I had no intention of venturing out to take photos or do anything else for that matter.

Heat gets on my nerves and I wonder how I survived four years in Texas with a car without air conditioning!

Thankfully big black clouds approached from the north this afternoon. A cold front swooping down from Canada perhaps? Thunderstorm soon broke out, sending the Chihuahuas skittering in all directions with each thunderclap.

This was the beautiful view from my office window, looking like a watercolor painting. And yes, the air is now as cool as the view.

barn sale treasures

There were lots of treasures at the barn sale, including lots of bikes parked in the barnyard.



Stacks of skis lined the walls of the barn, versions for snow or water.




Inglenook Pantry from Geneva provided food and drink for the busy shoppers.



This end table is one of those "should have's"....should have bought it for my daughters college apartment.



Here's another item I pondered over - a container of Tinker Toys. Fortunately the Tinker Toys found a good home. Later in the day I spotted a former customer of mine (an octogenarian) clutching them on his way to the checkout tent. Larry was surprised that I remembered him. It wasn't difficult as he was the only customer to ever sit at my desk and quote poetry!

pitching in

Everyone pitched in to make Garfield Farm's Barn Sale a success. Here's Jerry Johnson (pictured on the right), Executive Director of the farm, helping a customer load furniture.



Assistant Site Manager Thomas Hillier took time away from his responsibilities at the farm to help at the sale. He's just carried a large box of books to the checkout for a customer. Thomas is always cheerful and willing to answer questions.



The staff and volunteers were happy as customers lined up to pay for their items. The customers were equally happy to find special treasures. This woman found a large jar of marbles and her husband got a globe.

teamster

On the day of the barn sale Chuck Bauer helped out directing cars into the grassy side yard that served as a parking lot for the day.

He probably looks familiar to you because he's been pictured here before, working in his capacity as a teamster, for the Garfield Farm Museum. In the context of the museum and Chuck's duties a teamster is an ox driver and not a a member of a labor union. Garfield Farm was originally a teamster's inn.

He saw the cameras around my neck, figured out my identity and introduced himself. We were able to chat a bit between the rush of cars and I learned that although one man could drive the oxen it too two people working together to actually plow a field.

It's amazing to watch Chuck in action. The combined weight of the oxen is thousands of pounds and the teamsters direct them with voice commands and a goad. The goad does not serve as a whip, but a visual or touch clue that supports the voice command.

If you ever have a chance to watch a teamster in action, don't miss it. Even better, check out Garfield Farm's calendar and make plans to participate in the ox driving class next year. A urban dweller who took the class a couple years ago said that it was on her list of 100 things to do before she died!

making things happen

Somebody once said to me, "If you want to get something done, ask a busy woman to do it."

Here are two busy ladies that make things happen. On the left is Donna Neiler, a board member for the Garfield Farm Museum. She got plenty of energy and I was amazed at her ability to keep the hoardes of shoppers behind the orange cones until the magic 9 o'clock hour. This is unheard of in the annals of garage/estate/barn sales. The early birds are very persistant, but Donna runs a tight ship! She's got alot of good ideas and the ability to put together a team to bring those ideas to life.

On the right is Denise Morgan, who was the person in charge of sorting, displaying and pricing. Her and her volunteers worked up to 12 hours per day and put together a very well organized sale. The original plan was to display all the merchandise in the machine shed, but with the flood of donations the sale spread to the cattle shed and horse barn also.

More than one person at the sale had wonderful things to say about Denise's efforts. She impressed alot of people.

Next we'll meet some of the volunteers, including a teamster who is not a truck driver.

ten dollars and twenty-five cents

Here's what $10.25 bought me at the Garfield Farm Barn sale.

Three beautiful vintage tablecloths. The fourth one eluded me as a woman snatched up before I could grab it.
A nice white embroidered handbag. I have plans on further embellishing the bag.
Seven hand etched crystal champagne glasses. Yes, seven is an odd number but I can fill in with the 40 or so other hand-etched glasses I own. Did anyone say obsession?
A vintage aluminum donut maker in it's original box. Made in Manitowoc, Wisconsin. I promised Garfield's education director Patty Kennedy that I'd make her some donuts.

It has occurred to me that "the farmers wife" is filled with images of barns and cornfields and lacking in photos of the people who work hard to make our community what it is. Check back tomorrow when I introduce you to the people who organized the sale and some happy customers too!