My cousin Dale stopped by to pick up the photos of his parents and siblings. We had a good visit. He is thinking about retiring next summer, he says he needs some quality fishing time and will build a shouse not far from us. ( A shouse is a shop/house combination that is becoming quite popular.) He has a bunch of old farm tractors to work on in retirement.
Brothers; My Dad on the left and Dales Dad on the right. Filling the silo on the farm where I grew up September 1952.
Far Side
I believe the barn was built in the late 1930's or early 1940s by the Lemon family ( a brother to Far Guys maternal Grandmother (Clara Almeada) lived there his name was Loren Lemon and his wife was Florence Graham Lemon.
My parents purchased the farm in the spring of 1952 when my Dad returned from Korea.
Me and the barn in about 1953 or 1954.
Ten years later in 1964.
The barn at the farm where I grew up has seen better days. Soon it will be a pile of rubble and a new barn will be in its place. We had a good visit with Roger when we went over and petted Annie the Border Collie.
Yesterday I took a few photos. It had been on my list of things to do since early Fall and we just didn't get around to it.
I learned many things in that old barn. Never trust Banty roosters would be number one on my list. How to lock cows into their stanchions, how to feed and brush them. How to get rid of lice and how to spray them with fly spray in the summer. How to feed calves milk replacer out of a bucket with a teat and not spill the whole bucket all over because baby calves are aggressive drinkers. How to milk cows by hand and take care of their udders because a cow with sore teats will be a kicker and difficult to milk. How to use a milking machine and a cream separator. That cows peeing will splatter a long way...same goes for poop. Everyone knows their place in the barn except for a new cow. While hand milking you can squirt milk into the mouths of waiting in the aisles kittens or your other baby brother. How to clean out gutters, how to lay down a bed of straw for the calves in the calf pen....how to give sick calves shots of antibiotics. When it is cold in the winter the barn is warmer than being outside. Barns have their own unique smells.
The barn was built by the Lemons most likely in the 1930's... they were relatives of Far Guys ( a brother of Far Guy's Maternal Grandmother). Loren Lemon and Florence Graham Lemon lived there and raised their three children there until they moved to Washington sometime before 1949 when Loren died. My parents bought the farm in the Spring of 1952 when my Dad returned from Korea.
Far Side
My maternal Grandparents had an auction sale a long time ago. Grandpa was going to be 90 years old that July and was done farming. I kept an auction bill and recently dusted off my huge scanner to scan it.
As I recall it was a reasonably nice day for an auction. I bid on many things, mostly I bid against my Uncles so they wouldn’t get too much “stuff” cheap.
Auction Bill
I am not sure what else I bought but I bought the copper boiler.
I suppose I should get some copper cleaner and spiff it up a bit. It holds magazines and oversized rice bags (for cold feet), it sits inbetween the bedroom and the bathroom and yes Chance lays just outside the bathroom door…it is one of his safe places.
I have another boiler it is stainless steel and it holds extra blankets so the grands can grab one when they are here. Not sure where or when I bought that one, maybe I bought both that day. The boilers were always on the stove in the pump house, clothing was probably boiled in that pump house at one time, but all I recall is chickens being scalded in them during chicken butchering time. ( For those of you who don’t know once a chicken has properly bled out, it is dunked into a hot water bath several times until the feathers are easy to pluck.) I can still smell wet feathers just thinking of that old pump house.
I had to laugh at this Auction Bill…I thought my Grandparents drove a Buick. It was a 1973 Buick LeSabre. (In Nice condition for a 20 year old car. It always sat in the garage and never went over 45 or 50 mph.) Apparently no one was driving anymore…Grandpa never drove much Grandma always drove, but since they sold the car apparently she wasn’t driving either…Grandma would have been 82 that year. Sadly they both died in 1995 within two months of each other. Grandpa was 92 and Grandma 84.
Amish from Pennsylvania came looking for farmland a few years back. Farmland was much cheaper in Minnesota than Pennsylvania. They settled in Becker County in Evergreen and Spruce Grove Townships. It seems they came one by one until there was a colony.
One of the farmsteads they bought belonged to my maternal Grandparents. For awhile they ran a bakery out of this farmstead, but the Minnesota Department of Health shut them down. It was rumored that they were still selling baked goods they just had to take their roadside sign down.
From the highway the old garage is unmistakable.
See the old garage behind me?
The Amish work hard and they have a wonderful land ethic. Putting back more than they take out. My Grandparents would be pleased with the way their land is being used.
This is a neighbors field.
The Amish Semi used to haul benches was one wagon hitched to another.
There is another colony near Staples Minnesota. I don’t know if they are related or not.
I have photos of some of the children, they don’t like having their faces showing in photos so those will remain unpublished.
I would like to take more photos of them working in the fields with their horses. Maybe I should put that on my photo bucket list.
There are some signs of furniture for sale and garden vegetables in the late summer. We have never stopped..maybe someday we will.
A long time ago when I was a teenager I belonged to 4-H. It was an activity that I really enjoyed. The first club I belonged to was the Ponsford Panthers, they got too many members and some of us were siphoned off and began our own club called The Thrifty 39er’s. ( I have no idea how we came up with that name.)
One year I took photography as a project. Photography was an easy project, you had goals and filled out your project paperwork, took pictures and put them on a piece of tag board to display at the fair.
I took a number of photos in the pasture.
I was kinda close to the cattle with my Mom’s Brownie Flash Camera. Of course I could run faster back then..and our Mama cows were quite tame..except if you got too close to their calves.
1967 that was the year that I was a Sophomore in High School. We had a good crop of calves that year.
That was the summer I learned about persistence.
One of the bred heifers ( first time Mama) had a complicated birth. I think the calf was too big and died. The cow was a mess..the birth did something to her spinal cord or nerves…she couldn’t stand or walk on her own. We took her food and water and cleaned her area..she wasn’t in the pasture.. we moved her over by some piece of equipment where she would have some daytime shade in the farm yard. Every day sometimes twice a day my Mom would get out the tractor and we would hook up to the makeshift sling around the cow and lift her in the air until her feet touched the ground. Little by little she gained use of her legs, it wasn’t a pretty sight but she learned how to walk again..then I think she was shipped off. Back then it was bad enough to lose a calf..you didn’t want to lose a cow too.
I always liked to watch the calves in the pasture..they would kick up their heels and run like the wind..and then return to their Mamas. If they were gone for too long the Mamas would start bawling and the calves would usually come a running.
The old pasture January 14 2013.
The old pasture has changed over the years..it is primarily Oaks now..back in the 1960’s there were a number of pines in the pasture:)
We went to pick berries at my cousins. He and his wife live on the farmstead where my Maternal Grandfather was born and raised. I always call it Great Grandmas place..because she was the one that farmed there.. for many years she also took care of my Great Grandfather who had rheumatoid arthritis. He died before I was born so I always associate Great Grandma with that farmstead.
Picking berries in one of my Great Grandmother’s fields I always listen for sounds. Sounds that she may have heard..the Red Winged Blackbirds..children laughing..then there was this clop clop swish swish sound and then an aroma. I was intent on picking my containers full as fast as possible in the midday sun. Sweat was rolling off my nose in huge plops. I held the container almost at arms length so I could pick with one hand and steady the container with the other and not ruin any of the berries with sweat. I want to eat them next winter!
The clop clop swish swish with aroma..that aroma is what my cousins children call “buggy poop.” It was the Amish and their every other Sunday…they were either going or coming from church.
I wished that I had brought my camera into the raspberry patch…I didn’t ..but I did get some photos on the way home.
The swish swish sound was the buggy tires on the loose gravel that was on one side of the road.
The berries were plentiful. I am not convinced that we have enough for the whole winter yet. I may have to go back again on a cooler day.
I don’t make jam and I don’t make sauce. I freeze them in single layers on cookie sheets and then package them up into servings. They will be great next winter:)
Far Guys Paternal Grandparents were farmers. They began farming on this farm in 1916( I think..I hope I have that year correct.)
I am not sure what year this aerial photo was taken. I found this photo in one of the albums that I scanned last winter. It was either spring or fall when this photo was taken. The trees along the drive were small..they were either Elms or Ash and I remember them as large trees that were taken down one by one.
Far Guy said “Where is the outhouse?”
Barn, pigpen, machine shed, chicken coop with the white trim and the outhouse(little tiny white building) and a garage.
If the outhouse had been moved from it’s spot behind the house then the claw foot bath tub and the stool and sink must have been working! Grandma had a window in her bathroom, you could sit on the stool and look out the window.
Look at the big garden space out behind the house. Grandma grew enough vegetables for everyone in the family. When you stepped outside the back step in the spring air the smell of lily of the valley and then lilacs would greet you. Later in June the Lady Slippers would be blooming next to that step.
Lots of good memories tied up in this place. Boys left for school, work and war from this home. They brought back their wives and children, who it turn brought their children. We can still go over to the farm and visit. It is still in the family Far Guy’s Uncle lives there:)
I was a farm kid, so of course I was in 4-H. I had a steer one year. I halter trained him and practiced leading him around I even practiced washing him but we didn’t make it to the fair. If you took animals to the fair, you were expected to stay there and take care of them. Fair time was always a busy time on the farm. We could spend some time at the Fair but not all day long. After that disappointment I had different projects..baking and photography…things that could be left at night by themselves.
We had a county wide winter program called Share the Fun. All of the 4-H Clubs came up with some sort of entertainment to “Share the Fun” One year I was it..I twirled my baton. What fun..if you were half way decent you might get asked to the County Fair and I was.
My Mother took a photo of me twirling..even though it looks like I am about ready to jump into the air, I can assure you I kept my feet on the ground.
The photo is marked Frazee 1964. I was thirteen years old that year. I was a member of the “Thrifty-Thirty Niners” 4 H Club. We were a brand new club that was organized because another club on the prairie that was so popular as a club that it got too large. I loved being part of the prairie group..even though I cannot remember their name... Prairie Partners?? Prairie something..I think.
One year we had a skit for share the fun. We all had parts. I played the part of a rotund old man dressed in red long johns complete with a beard and a pillow stuffed belly. I had a couple of lines..I don’t remember them either but I had to come on stage and scratch my big old belly and say my lines…apparently they were funny lines because everyone laughed. Then I walked off stage scratching my butt. And the crowd roared.
Back to the twirling. My Mother made me a real cute white corduroy short skirt that was lined in red satin, it twirled too. ( I must have had some kind of red satin shorts or fancy panties under that short skirt.) I wore a red blouse and red knee socks and white tennies. Fetching I am sure.
That is the extent of my stage appearances. A twirler and a old fat itchy man:)
