Mid-week Holidays

 

Having Christmas Eve and Christmas Day in the middle of the week throws off my mental clock. And when New Years Eve and the Day of the new year follow a few days later it still has not balanced out. Life still feels tilted, even staying home makes me tired. The day after the holiday feels like it should be Sunday, or at least Saturday getting ready for Sunday. I don't kick into daily chores or meal planning, that might be because I ate enough on the specified holiday that my tummy doesn't send out the normal signals. My mental alarm doesn't go off at the right time to get up. It is nice to not be going to work, but it feels like I should be.

The fact that this year our area of the globe is without its normal covering of snow might influence it in some way.  Things already feel like it might be beginning spring, or just shutting down for fall. However, I feel it is more of a holiday impairment.

I am sure I am not alone with these disruptions. There is probably a fancy term for the confused situation. If you know what it is please share that with me. Words can be very fascinating and I am sure this term would be.

Parade of Undecorated Christmas Trees

 This  entry was intended for mid December, but life took some unexpected twists and I totally forgot it.  Hope you can enjoy the read even though 2025 has turned into 2026.

As the colder temperature are coming in the motorcycle traffic roaring down East Highway 36 and through Mink Creek community is hardly noticeable. The traffic that has been greatest in the past two month is that of those vehicles in search of a specific evergreen to grace their homes for the holiday season. Trucks, cars, some pulling a trailer, some taking more than one tree. They come into our canyons to select and chop down the Christmas Tree that meets their individual qualifications to decorate their homes, short or tall, full or slim.

For many families it has become a yearly tradition. Some years it takes place with the people wading in snow to reach the tree of choice. It has not been the case during November of this year, but snow has come more recently.

One observer, sitting for a brief time on his porch in Preston, commented that at least 50 trees had gone past, going south on State Street. Evergreens tied to the top of cars, some stacked on a trailer or in the back of a pickup, another with a lengthy tree tip sticking out of an open car window on the back sear. That observation was in a short amount of time and on only one day. Imagine that amount, plus, for most of the days of November. Many of the vehicles are displaying Utah license plates. As the holiday gets ever closer, the parade continues

Rambling on Small, Simple things

Ramblings on Small, Simple Things

How much do simple things play a part in my life?   When did they come into being, filling or improving a need for every day living?  Many have been in existence a very long time and  we don't even consider when they might have been unavailable.

Lately I've had reason to wonder who was the genius that created a pencil and with it an erasure.   Was it meant to replace the goose quill and a bottle of ink?  We need erasures in many areas of our lives, not just in the writing of the written words or drawings.

The safety pin...safer, with a better hold that a straight pin, assuming that the straight pin would be the forerunner to the wonderful safety pin.  Both have their place,  but there is often an absolute  must for the clasp of a safety pin so that an injury doesn't result.  One reads of encounters from long ago where a hat or hair pin was literally used as a weapon, with harm intended and achieved.  

Old-fashioned popcorn poppers---the thin wire basket with a long handle, that required lots of shaking on the top of a cookstove, fueled by coal or wood.  What a difference from the bag of kernels now placed in a microwave.  The taste doesn't compare, I vote for the past, plus the health involved.

Matches, the old individual wooden stick with a magic flame on the tip.  Again, not talking about a handy little packet of cardboard matches, but the kind that probably replaced a flint.

String-- not yarn,  simple boring string. When I was a child we always had a ball of string handy, plain old string,  cotton strands twisted together that filled many needs.   Tying a parcel to mail.  Flying a kite,  activating a pet toy,  drawing an accurate circle,  fastening any number of things that needed an anchor, etc.   I still have that need, but not the string.

When did a saber become a pocket knife?  And from there, a pocket knife became a screw driver, a can opener, etc. all in one small tool?

Rubber bands,  a stapler,  scissors,  thumb tacks, hammers, pliers, sponges. Especially scissors!! Look around, there are small, simple forgotten-until-needed items that help us manage our lives, no matter how modern and up-to-date we may think we are with our phones and computers.

I have no idea when or where these 'inventions' took  place. There was a need and a thinking mind improved and made it better.  I like recognizing it.

Deliveries, Then and Now

  I am the daughter of a man who delivered mail to a rural ranching area back in the days when his first days as a mail-carrier was on horseback or by wagon and a team,  and his parents had the mail contract for the area prior to his. The job carried responsibility and commitment to being well done. He shared a number of stories of the excitement and the challenge of fulfilling that idea that "the mail must go through."  His area covered 60 miles, picking up mail at a town post office located on the railroad, that had brought the mail that far via the rails.  He also delivered to some ranches between the official post offices, the one by the railroad and the one ranch that was designated as a post office in the ranch country, about sixty miles north. When he could afford a Model T Ford that became his means of conveyance, but still the mail got delivered, rain or shine, blizzard or toast.

Delivery was important.  When I now hear of the delivery of Fed Ex or UPS, or even businesses of a purchased product,  it is often beyond belief, and these who are responsible even have our modern GPS to guide them to the recipient's homes by the addresses on the parcel or item.   I hear of packages being left off at the neighbor's, some left at the door of a nearby church, one left in a barn, and  quite often outdoors where the supposed delivery is subject to whatever weather might come before its whereabouts is discovered. These are  just samples of the ongoing problem. It seems that the GPS might get the drivers somewhere in the vicinity of the correct address, but then it is left up to the actual human to make the correct connection.  Occasionally a language barrier contributes to the situation, compounding the difficulty of landing items at the right place. 

It could be taken as amusing, but only if you are hearing the story, not if you are anticipating the arrival of an item in order to move forward.  We think of ourselves as modern, up-tp-date, etc.  but this is not much of an example of progress.  Just my opinion.

Revolving weather

 

It has been  a while since I have posted on this site.  The writing has been going on, if not literally, at least mentally.  When I finally think this would make a good post, it seems to fall flat, and I know you don't want too much dullness.   One would think as a retiree I would live a life of intentional leisure, but it is not what I have accidentally chosen.  No complaints,  life is good, but quite  different from those that I recall witnessing with my own grandmothers.  Perhaps my own perspective has broadened as I have gotten solidly in that role. 

I have told you that I am a Jill of multiple interests.  It has always been so.  One interest has been history and genealogy.  I was one of those kids who always wanted a story from the true life of my adults when they were younger.   When I requested this from my Dad his response was a grin and the question, "you mean when I was a little girl?"  In this teasing way I heard lots of stories.   I gave some thought to teaching history as my career, but was directed in a different direction that was every bit as good for me and I hope for my students.

As a historian I am regularly looking into the past one hundred years or so of the everyday life of the residents in the western part of the United States. As I write about it in my newspaper columns I have had current residents give me feedback and one that is interesting is the  frequent comment about weather.   People always wonder why I notice reports of weather in my historical research

 Number one, I have been a farm wife for 63 years and weather is a big part of the daily ins and outs of an agricultural life, today just as much as it was a century ago. The first thing to note as the day begins, the weather report that is heard before calling it a day, in order to prepare for the next day's labors.  #2, it is interesting to see the repeats of droughts, blizzards, hurricanes, volcano eruptions, tidal waves, etc. over the period of a whole century. At the present time it may sound like a certain weather pattern is the first  that has ever happened and perhaps is so threatening, yet when one looks back over 100 years, usually it has happened more that once in those years past—and we got through it.  Perhaps  not without loss, but survived, sometimes even thrived, as the world recovered.  #3  Weather is a world-wide item, what happens on the other side of our mother earth  will very likely  affect  our immediate surroundings, given some time, and the winds, currents, sun and storm move around our revolving globe.   How can we  humans feel like we are in charge?   Only in our imagination, regardless of our efforts when it comes right down to it.  Just my opinion. 

Simple learning that Lasts

 We are always learning, even though we may be unconscious of the effort.   Lately I am reminded how often some of the simple, early  messages  are ever useful in my life. At the time I didn't realize I was learning important things for my future. 

 How about the multiplication tables?  I don't think they use that tool any more, but I haul it out of my mental file regularly for all sorts of tasks requiring measurement.  Simple division is another one.  I am glad that old-fashioned math works for me in my life, not sure I could manage the new versions.

 "Thirty days hath September, April, June and November,,,,etc."  That is another one. Think of the nursery rhymes that provides guidance, still, in behavior:  "one, two, buckle your shoe; three, four, shut the door; five, six, pick up sticks,"  and so on.

 The chants that went with learning to jump rope were a bit nonsensical, yet often held some instruction, as our nimble feet managed to miss the twirling rope.  Learning to count as the steps got higher and higher, was an accomplishment in more than one way, totally disregarding the exercise gained in the process. 

These simple tools and many others have spanned the years and continue to be helpful.  I don't need to wonder if the app on my phone will change or a new program come up with something beyond my understanding.   There is no need for constantly changing passwords.  It is a comfort to have something so enduring in the ever changing world of today.

A History chain, unplanned

 That title for this rambling of my thoughts sounds like it is going to be full of wisdom, etc.  That is not my intention.  It is simply that I am preparing to make a shift in some of my activities and it is causing questions to come my way.  Those questions have prompted this entry.  

    I have been the secretary of the County's Historical Society Board for the last six years.  It is a group of half a dozen individuals  who endeavor to come up with projects that will help the county citizenry, all ages, to become aware of what a rich historical heritage is claimed in this area.  It is interesting that the majority of the board are people who moved here as adults rather than having it as their home grounds. Now I am resigning, not because of lack on interest, but my age and problems connected with that limit what I can do to enhance the activities of the board.  I have not publicized my intentions, but I have given notice to those who need to find a replacement.  

    A question at our last gathering was that of when did I become interested in history.  My answer does not apply to this area, but the 'subject' as a whole.  Long ago I realized that I have had the interest my entire life.  As a child I was always pleading for stories about my Dad's life when he was little.  He would teasingly respond with, "you mean when I was a little girl?" and then I would get to hear stories of his growing up a 'real' cowboy on a ranch.  When my grandfather passed away I was 10 and there was a time that I got to sleepover on a regular basis with my grandmother.  She had been an emigrant from Lancashire, England when she was 19.  I sought more stories of her youth and life in the "old country."

    In high school my interests scattered out and I realized that I was 'a Jill of all trades' in the sense that lots of things appealed to me.  I loved English classes, I was good in Math,  music classes, art classes, etc., including history.   At this point my parents were looking into their own genealogy and I discovered that my father's lines took us back to the beginnings of the United States, the Puritans, Quakers, in the 1600's. Fascinating stuff, but I tucked it into a mental corner of my brain and went on with other  adolescent things.   However, one of my favorite leisure reads was that of history based fiction. Through the years I became more and more involved in tracing my ancestors past, not just their names and birth, but what they did, where they moved, when, etc. so that I could eventually weave a story together and get the feeling of knowing them.

    I got married, became a mother, drug my children to genealogy centers, until they became too many to haul.  History on hold, again. In 1981 the editor of the county newspaper phoned me and asked if I would be willing to write the rural news column for the paper.  With some reservations I accepted and he was pleased with my approach.  Weekly I gathered info from my village and contributed to the paper, hoping to make it interesting as well as true.  I really didn't think of it as being 'history.'    It was  just a fun sideline, a way of keeping me updated on my community.  I continued to write it, along with other news stories here and there, when I started to work full-time, teaching at the local high school.  Not history, family and consumer sciences, which I loved.

    Some years later I was given the opportunity to be the Ward Historian for our local congregation of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  The former historian was suffering some health issues and when I started looking at the past  entries in her ward history I recognized that she had been taking excerpts  from my weekly news columns  to tell the history of the ward.  She gave full credit to me, but I had no idea it was being done, or perhaps I would have made adjustments.  

      It has been a long time commitment to recording local history.  Upon my retirement from teaching, my editor suggested I write two more columns for the newspaper, both historical.  There are times I feel I know way more about the last 150 years than I do the present happenings around me.  I added the activity with the county historical board, and now, with that role in the past I will continue being a historical journalist.  A position I simply fell into, but definitely a part of me.  I  now intend to do more on my personal family history.  My audience is shrinking but it will  still give me enjoyment and these true tales will be there for  family members.  Maybe one of them will be bitten by the history bug, it can be contagious.