The Darkness of Black Friday, 2016

          For weeks I have been getting alerts to the big Black Friday stuff soon to be upon us. On-line, off-line, all types of businesses. Come, buy, big sales, BIG SALES. Fun. Fun? It holds no appeal to me whatsoever. Never has! Is there something wrong with my inner self?

          I have a grandson who was employed by the Target stores. One year he was assigned to open the doors and he described a horrible experience. How rude, how uncaring for others, the throng of people outside waiting, charging forward like a growling monster, fed by avarice.

           Friends who do the Black Friday thing tell me of sane humans snatching a desired purchase out of the hands of someone who was able to claim it before they did. Gone was any feeling of politeness or kindness. It all seems to be, “ I will get what I want, in spite of all resistance----whether that resistance comes from a store employee trying to have some semblance of order or another customer who is seeking the same purchase.

          Black is the correct color to describe this day I think. Solid Black! Evidently the original marketers of this craze felt it was appropriate as well. Darkness has always been associated with the lower regions for centuries. It is associated with the worst characteristics of the human race. Anger, greed, name calling, meanness, cheating, etc.  With all the clamor comes shouting, pushing, shoving, in-your-face attitude. Nope, just not my style.

          After the Day there are reports across the nation of injuries, violence in the store aisles, at the cash registers. People have even been trampled to the point of hospitalization. What happens to the civilized mind that has been taught rules of decent behavior?

          I love people. Friends have described me as a 'people person.' But I don't want them in crowds of grasping, greedy, me-first, me-only quantities. To some this day is considered fun, but not in my imagination. They make plans to be there in the wee hours as the doors swing open and the trampling parade rushes through the entry. Any person standing in their way may be knocked down and stepped on. This sounds like a nightmare, particularly in the opening hours. Later in the day, hours later, when the prices are not so good, but still perhaps somewhat discounted, that might have some attraction. The crowds hopefully would have dissipated and a degree of sanity resumed.

           I don't even look at the advertising, because I know I am not going.  These is not even a temptation. Enough said. I know I am not alone in my feelings, the grocery cashier today expressed her distaste for this same event.  An instant bonding. Lol

Aging Pumpkins and Me

         I thought about calling this little tidbit Halloween Leftovers, but I think the Aging Pumpkin is a better fit.

         This year my jack-o-lantern had a pretty simple face. Just not in the mood for some exotic carving, although I thoroughly enjoyed the creativity exhibited by some of my fell carvers.

Mine had verticle oval eyes, with some eyelash affect in the corner, a curved up and down mouth, rather like the curves on the normal human face. I declined from giving it an open nose, somehow the vertical lines on the pumpkin's skin gave the feeling of the strip of nose at just the right place. This was unintentional but came to mind as I was wondering about the nose. Then I added a widow's peak at the proper place on the rim before placing the lid on top.  All done, I liked it, it shed the right amount of light when I lit the candle placed inside.

        The pumpkin decorated my kitchen cabinet for several days before it started to age. The eyes still looked out, but the lashes became crow's feet. The lovely curl of the lips, pulled inward and took on a rather shrunken appearance. That widow's peak was still in place, still serving as an accent, but it too was turning inward. There were wrinkles up and down the nose as it caved inward. But when I lit the candle it still shown, just a slightly puckered expression.

         Crazy mind that I have, as you may have noticed if you read things I write, I started seeing the aging of all of us in this carved jack-o-lantern. When I look in the mirror these days I see my own crow's feet, my mouth taking on a shape that I had not intended. The lines are turning into deeper and deeper wrinkles, as expected. The widow's peak is a swirl of shining white hair.

         However, the light in my pumpkin still shines, the face still smiles. I hope that my light still shines too, that my smile stays in place, even though not as full and plump as it was in years past. I hope the twinkle in my eyes tells people that this is still me, here, within the changing face.

kit or caboodle?

What do I post for this  entry?   Should I change the name of the blog---it is a bit confusing to the modern mind most likely.  I have batted around a dozen names for this blog, wondering if I was biting off more than I could, or should, chew.  The idea appealed, then waned as my self-doubts set in.  They have a way of doing that, don't they?  Like snakes doubt slithers into a person's consciousness, insidiously, then  curl and wait to make their strike on a person's emotional, inner self.  Unless a person is firmly situated that strike takes its toll.
          At the beginning  this blog was an exciting goal, but as time went by I was filled with those  negative thoughts---"What on earth do I think I am doing?  I am not able to write enough to hold people's interest in a blog!  Who would want to read the ramblings of my brain?"   Then I had a "friend" who verbally questioned my writing abilities, so that inserted another negative wedge to the idea.
         I am always thinking of things to write.  Sometimes it is about my way of life(a farm wife), or grandmothering, or the turkeys that cross the road,  qualities of people that I love, or maybe not so much.  On and on, that is the way my mind works.  The best ideas come when I am "empty-headed," the mental me not in gear.  I already keep a journal, so this effort won't qualify as that.  It will be just stuff that pops up, out of my whole "kit and kanoodle."
           I nearly decided this was a bad idea, and then my closest fans ( my children) encouraged sufficiently and put me back on the track.  Since this started as a read by invitation type blog I know I will be encircled by friendly people.  However, I am not sure just who to invite.  I do want your comments and please don't think it is necessary to be praiseworthy.  At least four of you are English teachers, retired or active, but I know you won't have that red pencil poised in hand.  For that I thank you.  Some of you enjoy writing yourself and I love reading what you write.  I hope you will feel the same about this.  And so, here I am.
              Now I am wondering if I posted this, or something similar, earlier.  So goes the aging brain.

A farmer/rancher's Spring

Can't believe it has been so long since I blogged on this site.  I have had plenty of blogging thoughts going around in my head, just never took the time to post.  This is where I would truly like to write and share, but it seems I am writing everywhere else:  newspaper, genealogy, class stories, family epistles, Letter to shut-in friends...  Oh well, for you few who read it I hope you enjoy this one.

Spring in the Agricultural World.      By Claudia Erickson, a farm wife.

           In this part of the nation the earth has had a rest during our cold months. When the ground starts to warm, the snow has melted and sunny days happen with more frequency the person who has chosen agriculture as his way of life always goes through an annual time of reawakening himself.

           Since the calendar was flipped to March the man who loves the land has likely been making the rounds at the auction circuit. There is a lot of speculating and planning that goes on at these various sites. Some auctions are due to a farm being sold, lock,stock and barrel, with an estate from the death of the owner. For a farmer who is just too tired to take on the task any longer everything goes: lots of equipment, tractors, pickups, office supplies for the farm business right on down to the household items like kitchen furniture and bookcases, Sometimes there is a feeling of sadness that goes with the sale. Other auctions might be a collection of farm necessities: equipment, tools, supplies that may be someone's surplus and another person's need. Pallets of nuts and bolts, twine, yard tools, the list goes on, often with surprising items. It can be very entertaining when the auctioneer gets up on the block to make a sale. Then it is,” going, going, gone.”

          This is the time of year for new birth, lambs, calves, little porkers, all with the plan of as much time as possible to gain in weight and health looking to the day the critters go to market. When the spring weather is cold it hampers both the owner of livestock and the animals. Even with the protection of a shed lambing and calving operations are doubly hard in sub-zero temperatures. The farmer becomes an around-the-clock midwife to the mothers in his herd.

           The list of things to be accomplished crowd the owner's brain as though he had been a computer gone from shut down to,”good morning, world.” Any machinery or tractor still needing a checkup after the winter are brought into the workshops and given a thorough going-over. Parts are ordered and the repair shops hum with activity, whether the place is at an implement dealers or the farmer's own workshop. Repair and maintenance, these are so important to an operating ranch/farm.

           Cultivating the fields includes a multitude of strategies. Harrows level and clean up the sleeping winter fields. It is time for spring plowing, for attempting to get the eternal crop of rocks removed from the cultivated land. Decisions are made about planting, which seeds and which fields. There is an urgent effort to get the seeds drilled into the earth so that the spring rains can give them the extra boost needed for a good start before irrigation sets in. And then begins the never-ending war on weeds. Not to be outdone, the weed population loves a good headstart and the landowner knows it is another season of finding the best way to deal with that ever-present challenge.

             Much of this revolves around the promise of water available for the coming growing season. The local water boards have their meetings and plan for cleaning out the canals and ditches that bring the water close to the land. The plans need to be put into action before the greening growth becomes an impediment to the flow of that source for all life, water.

             The sun gets up earlier, and earlier, and so does the person who counts himself fortunate to have chosen this way of life and all the joys that come from living it.

End of 2015

       I have had cause to consider my feelings about the winter season.   Last year it just didn't arrive in our neck of the woods.   We needed it, but it didn't come.  In the spring we were rescued by sufficient rainfall to keep our waterways flowing and filling our reservoirs.   Still, we had missed those winter months.
         Winter isn't an easy season in terms of  daily life.  There is the shoveling,  the coping with the cold, the added dangers of driving on slick, icy roads.   Indoors or outdoors there is extra demands.  If indoors, in our case we need to keep our wood fire going in order to heat the home.  That brings in bits of wood to clean up,  ashes to be cleaned out,  messes on the freshly scrubbed floors.  If outdoors a person needs to consider how best to stay warm with extra wraps, adequate gloves, hats and footwear.  One walks carefully on icy surfaces, the likelihood of falling down increases.  Just breathing can be challenging as that cold dry air hits the respiratory system.
         Driving takes more concentration, a few different skills.  There is always the possibility of becoming stuck in the snow, as well as whirling out of control on the ice.  Personally, I always pack some material in the trunk of my vehicle that can help me get added traction if I need it.  I was raised in snow country and trained to  travel with some snack items, just in case I should get stranded, and have a blanket, another just in case.
         Still, even in my advancing years, I like winter.  The outdoor beauty, the sparkle of snowy hillsides, the intense blue of the sky against the white environment.   The loveliness of a moonlit night during the winter never fails to trigger my asthetic senses.
          Different types of birds arrive and are active around our home during the winter months.  These are survival birds, tough enough to stay despite the cold.  The aquatic varieties  are beautiful skimming across the top of our leaden colored pond, surrounded by mounds of snow on the banks.  The wildlife stop in regularly, even when unwelcome, mostly looking for a snack of some type.  I see deer walking down the road  as they go about their nightly inspection routine, checking out our haystacks first and eventually when all seems calm, venturing into our orchard for any reachable fruit left on our trees, or perhaps something left out for our cat that didn't get consumed.
           Even as a house keeper there are some advantages to my winter.   My refrigerator space expands greatly because I can use the garage and front porch to keep food cool every bit as well as the electrical appliance.  I don't need to add ice to any water based beverage.  Ice water comes straight from our faucet.
            I love the sounds of children playing in the snow.  Sledding, skating, making snowmen, just rolling around in it.  They giggle, they shout, and they wear themselves out.  Even snowball fights are better than sand being tossed in the air.  The damp duds they wear for play dries out and  a warm cup of cocoa puts everything right in short order.
           Lastly, I enjoy having the end of the day arrive when darkness descends along with the dropping temperatures.  I feel like I can be at rest a little earlier, not concerned so much about the required tasks of the day.    I can read, or write, or ....whatever my fancy is at the particular hour.  Yes, winter has an appeal all its own for me.  

Veterans' Day, the Armistice

        Nov 11, 1918, the signing of the Armistice, brought to an end World War I. When General John J. (Black Jack)Pershing of the US Army undertook the Meuse-Argonne offensive the objective was to cut the German railroad lines feeding the Western Front. The battle lasted 47 days and engaged 1,200,000 American troops. The heavy fighting in the Argonne Forest resulted in those killed and wounded being 10% of the total, a huge amount. As a result of this endeavor the end of the war was in sight. The Germans and their allies had finally had enough.

            At the time of the peace signing these years of conflict, 1914-1918, were called “the war to end all wars.” For two and a half years the battle was waged  in Europe. On one side were the Central Powers: Germany and Austria-Hungary and later Turkey and Bulgaria. On the other side were the Allied Powers: France, Britain, Russia and later, Italy. America's leaders attempted to stay out of the mammoth squabble. In the spring of 1917 US President Woodrow Wilson, a man known for his desire for peace, declared us in, another ally to the Allied Powers.

           It took months to raise the United States Army. Men across the nation were required to register for the draft. Training, housing, outfitting, transporting across an ocean did not happen overnight.  So far I have only read the draft card of my maternal grandfather, an immigrant from Sweden. I am sure that there were  many more in my family lines since the other ancestral side had been in this country since the 1600's in New England, Virginia, North Carolina.

           I honor this day, Nov 11, because it is the day set aside to think, to consider those possibilities of what my life might be like had not others over the generations chosen to do their part to keep this country free and to offer these freedoms to other countries. WWI was not the end of war in any way, the Armistice just offered a break for our world before another began.

         I admire a dear friend who was part of taking the beach in Anzio, Italy, in WWII. My husband's uncle has a grave site in Manila, the Philippines, losing his life in an air-battle in the Pacific Theater of that war. My genealogical research has informed me of a British cousin who served in the RAF during the time of the Blitz across the ocean. Other Brit relatives share how life was for them during that horrendous time.

           Wars continued, lives lost, with often not many years between hot spots warring throughout the globe. I remember how I felt when the news came that an older cousin had been killed by a sniper's bullet in the Korean Conflict. My husband was trained and served as a medic in between Korea and Vietnam. Friends, neighbors, relatives have been part of the Vietnam War.

          Genealogical research has shown me ancestors who were part of the Civil War in this nation. Some even came from those with the Quaker beliefs, feeling that as citizens of this country there is an obligation. I have records of a great great great great great (5x) grandfather who was a lieutenant in the Revolutionary War. I am sure there was more than this one ancestor of that time period involved. All of these warriors provided something that helped to make my life what it is today. I am grateful to them, and for others like them, in this country and abroad. Freedom is a priceless commodity.

The Seasons

        I am a person who still enjoys living where there are 4 seasons.  Around here it has been fall as usual, putting up apple juice, drying, did some great apple syrup, jelly, pie in a bottle. Plums were plentiful, both wild and domestic varieties. Grass kept growing, always needing mowed, weeds doing well. Garden, tomatoes, have been good this year, perhaps a little small in size this year.  

         For some reason, not complaining, the box elder bugs have been less this fall.  Generally they are covering the southeast side of our house and getting in every crevice and open spot they can find.  It has been nice to have their reduced amount, would that it could last for a few years.  The wasps, too, have not been as obnoxious or thick.  I am sure a farmers almanac could answer these wonderings of mine.

     It has been a strange fall season.  Nice temperatures longer than usual.  The hay fields busy growing a 4th crop weeks after the haying equipment has been cleaned up and put to rest in the shed.  Leaves staying green, along with the grass and the fields.  Deer out munching on the fresh alfalfa instead of raiding the storage in the barn.

      Now, November, the leaves have finally come down.  The whole community is carpeted with yellow and gold.  We have had quite a bit of rain, but no snow until the end of last week, and then it was only a skiff.  The first morning the white clung to the roofs, the fence posts, the upper side of the orchard branches, but the ground was too warm and no white appeared.  The next day the skiff arrived, but gone by noon easily.  Our mountaintops are staying white but the snow line didn't move down until last night.   

         Dark comes early now with Daylight Savings Time taking a rest.  With the dark came big feathery flakes, floating earthward.  They kept coming until everything was covered nicely and then the silence reigned, adding to the feeling of softness.  It is time for the change of the season, time for the flakes to fall and nourish the ground.  Not an easy season for man and beast, domestic or wild, but one that should be welcomed.  It is all part of the plan of our existence.