The Christmas Story

 

“In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be enrolled…3 And all went to be enrolled, each to his own city. 4 And Joseph also went up from Galilee, from the city of Nazareth, to Judea, to the city of David, which is called Bethlehem, because he was of the house and lineage of David, 5 to be enrolled with Mary, his betrothed, who was with child. 6  And while they were there, the time came for her to be delivered. 7  And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.

     8  And in that region there were shepherds out in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night. 9  And an angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were filed with fear. 10  And the angel said to them, ‘Be not afraid, for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will come to all people; 11  for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord. 12  And this will be a sign for you: you will find the babe wrapped in swaddling cloths and lying in a manger,” 13  And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying,

14  ‘Glory to God in the highest,

                  and on earth peace among men with
                       whom he is pleased.’”

                                            (Revised Standard Version Luke 2:1, 3-14)

Life on the Prairie

Merry Christmas everyone!  Our blog has a different format this week. We each wrote a short piece about Christmas. We hope during this busy season each of you takes time to reflect on the birth of Jesus and the true meaning of Christmas. We hope, too, that you enjoy fellowship with family and friends. We will be back on the prairie for our next post. It will feature Emily, the Kind Suffragette and will post the first week of January. 

My Christmas List

                                                                                                            By Judy

Each Christmas many hours are spent writing lists. I write “to do” list after “to do” list. I enjoy crossing completed items off the list.  I try not to think about the items I constantly move forward to the next day’s list. I make lists of presents to give my children, grandchildren and friends. Children list toys they wish Santa to bring. Santa, of course, keeps his “naughty or nice” list. This year, I made a Christmas list of what I want.

Happiness is on my list. How wonderful our world would be if everybody was happy. I especially wish the people I know happiness. When my children were young and still at home I really wanted them to be happy early in the morning. I’m not necessarily a real morning person, and I didn’t expect smiles and laughter. I just didn’t want grumpy, negative attitudes expressed before I had my coffee. However, now that my children are on their own, I miss those grunted “mornin’” greetings.

I put world peace on my list. Many people will gather for Christmas this year with a son or daughter absent, serving our country so we here in America might live in peace. Families in war torn countries call refugee camps home and are separated from family members. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if simply putting world peace on a list to Santa brought about world peace? “Treat others as you would like to be treated” might be a better place to start.

Food, clothing and shelter for everyone are on my list. The problem is in the logistics. How does Santa get the clothing from my overcrowded closet to all those short women who need sweaters and jeans? How do the leftovers in my fridge get to the starving child in Africa? One of my sons once asked me “where do the people who have no houses sleep when it is cold?” This is a tough request for Santa. It is easy for me to say “I’ll pray for food, clothing and shelter for everyone,” and I do. Still I shop for the perfect Christmas sweater. I decorate the Christmas tree and string greenery throughout my warm, comfortable home. I bake a ham…turkey…pies…cakes, and I make fudge and caramel popcorn. It is not as easy to clean my closet, work in a soup kitchen or shelter the homeless. Hmmm, this might be an item for me to work on achieving rather than asking Santa.

Patience is on my list, too. I would like more patience for store clerks waiting on customers as well as patience for teachers of children waiting on Santa. Drivers need patience, too, particularly those driving on the same highway as I. Mothers and fathers need patience, and perhaps even a certain Nana I’m very familiar with could use a little more patience once in a while.

An extra hour of time each day is on my list, or maybe I should put the ability to manage time better on my list? Either would help I believe, especially if I used it to accomplish some of the other items on this list. If I spent just one extra hour with a lonely person during this busy season, it might be a blessing to that person as well as to me. That one hour, too, might be a start to accomplishing other items on this list. I wish you all a Christmas filled with love and happiness.

Storyteller's Corner

“Tis the Season…”

                                                           by Collette

When my family’s greenhouse operation was up and running, the weeks before the holidays through Christmas Eve were frantic and filled with long, arduous days. Invariably sometime between Thanksgiving and the Sunday following, there was some kind of weather event. If we lost electrical power due to an ice storm, a greenhouse full of poinsettias was damaged in a matter of minutes. Many times we used a gasoline tractor hooked up to a generator to keep the houses warm. We utilized a snow blower to remove snow along the edges of the houses. Ropes were slid back and forth on either side of each building to remove heavy snows from the tops of the plastic covered hoop houses.

In the beginning when my husband was still learning about the growth of the plants, we did have a problem or two. We had a request for a particular variety of poinsettia that first year. Although gorgeous plants, these flowers needed to be planted very early in the season because ours did not bloom until Valentine’s Day that year. Thankfully, we never experienced that accident again.

Moving them out and transporting them was the biggest headache of all. In the beginning we used a green utility van to move them to various shops. Unfortunately, its heater was not as good as it should have been. I remember insulating the cargo door with blankets and old bed spreads to keep the north wind from freezing the plants. When my husband had to wear insulated coveralls, boots and gloves while driving, we knew we might be in trouble. He had to break ice off the door to remove them when he got to his destination, and we lost several pots of flowers.

Returning from a trip to Wichita on the old 96 Highway during an ice storm, a semi-tractor trailer stalled at the bottom of one of the many hills on that road. Each time the driver tried to go up the hill, he slid back down to the bottom. Eventually there was quite a lone of vehicles behind him (including our van) waiting to ascend. This was before cell phones, so I kept up on my husband’s progress with a “cb radio” because they were stuck there long enough to worry about whether he might run out of gas.

Despite the travails involving the weather, the beauty of the houses filled with blooming poinsettias was breath-taking. Being able to decorate churches in our area (many times donating the flowers) was such a fulfilling experience. People often sent us pictures of their churches filled with his plants. It was such a gift to be able to grow them. That time was one of my favorite memories about the Christmas season. I hope you take the time to cherish your own memories during this time. Blessings to you all.

 

Life on the Prairie

 

Lindsay

 

Living on the prairie was hard at best.

Surviving the elements was the test.

 

Ranchers came for open range land.

Cowboys were needed for helping hands.

 

Round-up was exciting, held in the spring.

Riding skills cowboys did bring.

 

Ten-year-old Lindsay was just the right age.

Her independence was center-stage.

 

Rustlers and blizzards she did endure.

Triumph and success made her secure.

 

 

Please note the blog posts on the first and third weeks of the month.

Prairie Girls

Lindsay

This is the final time I will be writing to you. I am Lindsay, the independent cowgirl. My brothers and I got caught in one of the first blizzards of the season and nearly didn’t make it home from school. Pa and Hank were able to save us. Other blizzards followed this one, and they destroyed cattle by the hundreds. Any cowboys caught outside died. Several ranchers lost everything as a result of the deep snows and severe cold.

You will have to read my book to see if the M Ranch survives and what happens to my family.

It’s Snowing!

                                                                                                            by Judy

                                                                                                                   

Like Lindsay, I attended a one-room school in Kansas and just as it snowed when Lindsay was young, it snowed when I was young and attending a one-room school. My family did not have a telephone until I was out of grade school nor was there a phone in my school. After a couple of hours of heavy snow falling, though, my dad would come in the Jeep to collect my brothers and me.

There were no official snow days yet, and if it wasn’t Friday, we were all back in school the next morning. We students were happy to have snow. Recesses and lunch hours were now spent playing Fox and Geese or building forts and waging battles with snowballs. Although our coats and gloves were placed near the one stove in the room, we often wore damp coats and gloves home.

However, there was one drawback to a good snowstorm for students attending my one-room school. There was not an inside bathroom. It was at least a mile from the school house. (Well, maybe not quite that far, but it seemed like it in the cold, blowing snow.) I will mention, too, it was not well-built. There were cracks in the walls and a gap between the walls and the roof. These building issues allowed for snow to drift inside and settle on the seat. On cold, snowy days…well, a trip to the restroom was not pleasant.

Killing Storms

Blizzards of the 1880’s

One of the main factors in the decline of the cattle industry in specific areas of the Great Plains occurred from climatic change. Killer blizzards over the years, followed by droughts in the summers, and overgrazing of the native grasses left many ranches in ruins. Thousands of cattle were destroyed in the storms, a couple of hundred cowboys were stranded and lost their lives, and no one bothered to count the number of Native Americans who died.

Driven by northern winds, the cattle simply started walking south. If they were on the open range they wandered into southern Kansas and Oklahoma. After the thaw, ranchers found them piled up against fences and frozen on top of each other. Passengers on trains were stranded along tracks buried in deep snows at the mercy of the weather for days. Life on the Great Plains stopped until the next thaw. The new cattle kingdom moved from the Great Plains into the Dakota Territory, Wyoming, Colorado and Montana and was funded by foreign interests in many instances.

The following could be useful for additional research:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schoolhouse_Blizzard
http://www.kshs.org/kansapedia/blizzard-of-1886/119
http://www.ksre.ksu.edu/wdl/Climate/cok/index.asp?page=253

Prairie Recipes

Prairie Recipes

This is an older recipe Lindsay might have known about since they used a persimmon to determine the severity of the coming winter.

Persimmon Bars

1 cup persimmon pureed                            1 ¾ cup flour

1 teaspoon baking soda                              1 teaspoon salt
1 egg                                                           1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1 cup sugar                                                 1 teaspoon ground nutmeg
½ cup salad oil                                           ¼ teaspoon cloves
8 ounces chopped dates                              1 cup chopped walnuts or pecans
(about 1 ½ cups lightly packed)                  lemon glaze (recipe follows)

Prepare puree; measure out one cup and stir in baking soda and set aside. In a large bowl, lightly beat egg; then stir in sugar, oil and dates. In another bowl, stir together flour, cinnamon, nutmeg and cloves; add to date mixture alternately with persimmon mixture, stirring just until blended. Add nuts. Spread batter evenly on a lightly greased and floured cookie sheet with a rim. Bake at 350 degrees for 25 minutes or until top is lightly browned, and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. Let cool on a rack for five minutes. Prepare glaze and spread over the cookies. Let cool completely; then cut into bars. Store covered.

Lemon Glaze:
In a small bowl, stir together 1 cup powdered sugar and 2 tablespoons lemon juice until smooth. Spread over cookies.

The following is a fifty-year-old recipe for snow ice cream.

Toni’s Snow Ice Cream
2 eggs, beaten                                             ½ teaspoon salt
2 cups milk                                                 3 teaspoons vanilla
1 ½ cups sugar                                           roaster pan of snow

Blend all of the ice cream ingredients with a mixer. Gradually add snow until the dessert is the desired consistency. Other flavorings may be added just like regular ice cream.

Blizzard

Storyteller’s Corner

Nearly 40 years ago, my soon-to-be-husband and I attended a wedding close to the Colorado/Nebraska border in January. I don’t remember paying attention to the weather forecast, but surely I did. I just knew I was singing in the wedding, so I had to go regardless of the weather.

You guessed it. A blizzard struck the day we were to return home to teach and attend school. We made it to Hayes, and being young, stupid and fearless, thought we could make it to Topeka on I-70. Getting low on fuel, we decided to exit the interstate at Russell, only we turned one exit too soon. We literally came to a stop at the first intersection we encountered due to the driving snow.

As we pondered what to do next, we were startled when a couple knocked on the window. They wanted to know if they could sit in our car to warm up because they were out of gasoline while trying to run their car’s heater. They informed us there was another car at the intersection with us. They, also, asked for shelter, and now the car was full.

I had a laundry basket of clean sheets and towels in the trunk of my car, and we used them to cover ourselves for added warmth. Someone had cookies and snacks we devoured. All the while, the snow was getting deeper and deeper. We discovered the other two couples were returning from skiing and visiting family over the Christmas break, and all of us were teachers except my fiancée.

My attentive husband-to-be had noticed a farm house after we turned off the interstate. He thought he could walk back to it and borrow a tractor to pull our car out and tow us to town. Once again, we thought something that dangerous was a good idea. He set out see if he could get us help.

The longer he took the more apprehensive I became about his plan. Finally, we heard the tractor and felt so relieved. The main reason it had taken so long was because the farmer did not believe my fiancée knew how to drive a tractor. (Remember he was the one who started driving one in second grade.) The farmer had followed him with his pick-up, and we climbed into the back covering our heads with the canvas he brought with him to ride to town.

It took two days for my car to dry out because so much snow had blown in through the grill and packed itself under the hood. I missed two days of school, as did the others stranded at the intersection. My future husband has asthma and ended up with frostbite on his lungs. Our decision-making skills have improved over the years together.

Christmas Letter

Dear friends and family,

By Judy

I like to write the first draft of my annual Christmas letter in August, or maybe September, for sure in October. I really must have it started in November. Okay, so we are now in the first week of December, and I have not started it yet. The timing of the writing of this Christmas letter is always an issue for me. Ideally, the end product would be in the mail by the first week of December. That is always the plan. That is never reality.

Oh, I always start thinking about it in August. And I think about it in September and in October. During Thanksgiving weekend I sometimes jot down a fleeting thought about some interesting tidbit of information I want to include in the letter. Some years I have actually composed a paragraph or two of the letter. However, when I am down to the deadline and must get the letter completed (or it becomes a Presidents’ Day letter), I can never find that piece of paper. Some years, too, I can’t find the Christmas cards that were such a good bargain at last year’s after-Christmas sale. (I do have a list of about fifty other reasons for not getting the letter out in a timely manner if you need them.)

Yet, the Christmas season is getting calmer as I age. For one thing, writing one check to each family member is easier than spending hours in crowded stores shopping to find just “the perfect gift.” Writing multiple checks to multiple stores to pay for those “perfect gifts” takes time.”  No, it is not as much fun to watch the ten and under grandchildren open an envelope and pull out a check as it is to watch them rip happy Santa Claus paper off a new doll or truck. On the good side, though, they don’t whine as much when they get a check as they do when they get underwear.  I’ve observed, too, the family members who are over twenty are very satisfied with finding a check in a Christmas envelope.

Well, Christmas is fast approaching, and I’ve got to find those Christmas cards. I need to reconcile my bank account, too, wouldn’t want to give a hot check for Christmas. And, of course, I’ve got to start my Christmas letter to family and friends…. Oh yes, Merry Christmas to all!   

Prairie Life

 

Lindsay

 

Living on the prairie was hard at best.

Surviving the elements was the test.

 

Ranchers came for open range land.

Cowboys were needed for helping hands.

 

Round-up was exciting, held in the spring.

Riding skills cowboys did bring.

 

Ten-year-old Lindsay was just the right age.

Her independence was center-stage.

 

Rustlers and blizzards she did endure.

Triumph and success made her secure.

 

 

Please note the blog posts on the first and third weeks of the month.

Prairie Girls

Lindsay

I am Lindsay. Pa and I have spent part of my first round-up riding along the fence line between the open range and our ranch. One day we discovered the fence had been cut. Pa said someone had stolen our cattle. He showed me one of the rustler’s horses had a broken shoe, and I could see it made a different track than the other horses.

Read my story to find out how my friend Ella and I learn who the cattle and horse thieves are.

Buck
                                   by Judy

I was twelve when my parents finally caved and purchased a horse for my younger brother. Unlike Lindsay, I was not overly anxious or excited to be involved with the day-to-day activities of our family farm. Still, I did realize a horse might lend some excitement to my fairly isolated rural life.

Like most parents, mine did the best they could with the circumstances, knowledge and skills they had at the time. However, I do question some of their parenting decisions. In particular, the decision to have both my younger brother and me ride the horse together, bareback, the fifteen miles from the stockyards to our house. I was twelve, and my brother was nine. 

No doubt the horse was headed for the glue factory before my dad bought him. And yes, he probably was a circus horse who was too old to be in the circus any longer. (At least that is what my dad was told.) But, the problem was neither my brother nor I had ever before been on a horse. Nor had either of us ever paid much attention as how to get from the stockyards to our house. “Just stay on the back roads,” Daddy said as he handed my brother the reins and gave “Buck” a pat on his behind.

At first my brother and I were excited to be on such a great adventure. Sure, the sun was hot, but we had on shorts and light-weight shirts. As farm kids, we most always had our straw hats on and did so that day. (I’m grateful now for my mother’s insistence I always wear my hat.)  Buck was well-trained and heeded our uncertain commands. I don’t remember how long it took us to get home, but we did somehow and did not get lost on the country roads. I do remember it was a long, hot summer afternoon, and neither my brother nor I smelled very good when we arrived home.

While it was over a week before either one of us went for another ride on Buck, we spent many more pleasant afternoons riding that old horse. Turns out, perhaps buying a horse for my little brother wasn’t such a bad parenting decision after all.

Prairie Recipes

Chuck Wagon Fare

The following includes chuck wagon terms a cook needed to know:

Wreck pan: the pan where the cowboys put their dirty dishes after eating.

Squirrel can: a large can where the boys scraped the food scraps after eating.
Cook’s last job of the evening: he must point the tongue of the wagon toward the north so the herd could “follow the tongue” the next day.
Gut robber, greasy belly, and biscuit shooter: name given for the cook.
Coffee recipe: use a handful of coffee for every cup of water.
Possum belly: the name for the rawhide apron attached to the underside of the chuck wagon where wood or buffalo chips were stored for making fire.
Why the cook threw dirty dishwater under his wagon: kept the cowboys from sleeping in the shade under the wagon. (Chronicle of the Old West)

Whether a cook and his chuck wagon were any good was often determined by his biscuits. If he couldn’t make a flaky biscuit in a cast iron skillet over an open fire, the cowboys were in trouble. The following was a good recipe to use.

Buttermilk Biscuits

2 cups flour                                                 ½ teaspoon salt

4 teaspoons baking powder                        5 tablespoons lard or shortening
1 teaspoon soda                                         1 cup buttermilk

Sift flour, baking powder, soda, and salt together. Cut in lard until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add buttermilk, stirring until mixed. Turn out onto floured board; knead slightly. Roll out about ½ inch thick; cut with floured biscuit cutter. Place in cask iron skillet with lid. Bury in coals until done.

An older recipe for breakfast might have included this one:

Slapjack

Take flour, little sugar and water, mix with or without a little yeast, the latter better if at hand, mix into paste and fry the same as fritters in clean fat.

Historical Fact

Open Range and Cattle Rustling

When the cattle industry began on the Great Plains, the factor that made it all possible was the open range. Land not granted to the railroads or to homesteaders remained free, and its use was available to everyone. That meant the grazing on the grasslands cost the cowboy or rancher nothing. It allowed cattle to roam like the buffalo before them for profit.

The invention of barbed wire and the encroachment of homesteaders wanting to fence in their farms was part of the end of open range. With the decimation of the buffalo herds and the relocation of plains’ Native Americans, many saw less need for open range. The killer storms and blizzards of the 1800’s were the death knell for the cattle industry in Kansas and other Great Plains’ states.

Another disadvantage of the open range was the problem of livestock rustlers. Unemployed gangs of cowboys and other ruffians took advantage of cattle herds or horses grazing far from ranches. This was a prevalent practice then, and it even occurs today as cattle prices fluctuate and rise. Pre-1900 might have meant a lynching if a rustler was caught.

The following sources will provide more information.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ranch
http://www.archives.gov/education/lessons/barbed-wire/index.html
http://www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cattle_raiding

Horses, Not for Me

Horses, Not for Me

When I was in kindergarten and the first grade, I had a tall friend who loved horses. I mention tall because I was (and still am) very short. During recess every day, we played horses. She was the “mama horse” and I was her “baby horse.” I don’t think she ever got to have one because she lived in town.

I, however, ended up with one, or I should say, my sister had a horse. Her name was Tilly, and my experiences with her were always bad. Troubles culminated the day she stopped dead in her tracks and threw me over her head.

Luckily, I wasn’t hurt, but that was the end of any future relationship with Tilly. I was always secretly a little afraid of her. (I was short; she was tall.) She managed to founder twice and survived both incidents. Maybe that’s why she became so cantankerous. My sister and brother could handle Tilly, but I chose not to climb right back in the saddle.

Giving Thanks

Reasons to Give Thanks

                                                                             By Judy

Fall is my favorite season and Thanksgiving is one of my favorite holidays. I have listed below some of the reasons I like Thanksgiving.

·        I am not required to sew or purchase a costume for myself or anyone else.

·        I am not required to purchase a special Christmas outfit for myself or anyone else.

·        I do not have to purchase presents for anyone.

·        I do not have to put a tree in my house.

·        I do not have to hide chocolate eggs in my yard.

·        Unlike the 4^th of July, Thanksgiving is not dangerous. There are no worries about anyone losing a finger while shooting off a pumpkin pie.

·        Pumpkin pie and whipped cream

·        Pecan pie

Probably the best reason I enjoy Thanksgiving, though, is that my daughter hosts the meal. She is a planner and organizer and has hosted our Thanksgiving family gathering for some years now. Early on, she put all the information on a spreadsheet, and there is little variation from year-to-year. One of my jobs is to make the dressing for the turkey. Pretty easy job when you compare it to cleaning the house, setting up the tables and chairs, enduring the crowded grocery store while purchasing the turkey and many other items needed to prepare the feast. Oh yes, there are many good reasons to enjoy Thanksgiving.

I am lucky, too, in that I have many reasons to be thankful. Some are listed below:

     ·        My Church

     ·        My family

     ·        My friends

     ·        A warm, comfortable home

     ·        I live in a free country

     ·        Green bean casserole

     ·        My daughter hosts the Thanksgiving dinner

  

Yes, it is easy for many of us to enjoy Thanksgiving and to name the many things we are thankful for. But there are many…far too many…who will not sit down to an abundantly-filled table. There are many also who will not spend the day in a warm home surrounded by those they love. As we give thanks, let us also remember to pray that someday they, too, will have reasons to give thanks. And, let us remember to share our blessings.

Life on the Prairie

 

Lindsay

 

Living on the prairie was hard at best.

Surviving the elements was the test.

 

Ranchers came for open range land.

Cowboys were needed for helping hands.

 

Round-up was exciting, held in the spring.

Riding skills cowboys did bring.

 

Ten-year-old Lindsay was just the right age.

Her independence was center-stage.

 

Rustlers and blizzards she did endure.

Triumph and success made her secure.

 

 

Please note the blog posts on the first and third weeks of the month.

Prairie Girls

Lindsay

My name is Lindsay Martin, and I am an independent cowgirl on the prairie in the 1880’s. Ma and Pa own the M Cattle Ranch. Charley and Layne, my brothers, work on the ranch after school. They got to go on the annual spring round-up when they were ten-years-old. Now that I am ten, I want to go along, too. I want Pa to teach me everything there is to know about ranching.

I’ll tell you more next time about my adventures on the ranch.

 

 

“Round ‘em up, Move ‘em out”

                                                                                                By Judy

 

Like Lindsay, I helped my family with our cattle. Most of the time our beef cattle were in pastures on the south side of the highway. Several times a year the cattle were moved to the pasture on the north side of the highway. I use the term highway, but actually it was just a narrow, blacktopped road. At most it was traveled by only one or two cars an hour. Still, moving the cows to the north pasture required my assistance plus help from my grandpa, dad, two brothers, my dog, Red, and sometimes even my mother.

 

The process began by placing a couple of bales of hay in the back of our old WWII army jeep which had been painted red. The cows followed the jeep with the hay in it to the gate of the pasture. Directly across the road was a gate to the destination pasture. My brothers, grandpa and I were stationed on the highway to stop cars and to prevent any livestock from taking a “road trip.”  When the gates were opened, Grandpa drove the jeep through the first gate, across the highway and through the second gate with the cattle following. My dad and Red were behind the cattle to push any laggards on their way. 

 

My family moving cattle in Kansas in the 1950’s was much easier than the round-up Lindsay experienced in the 1880’s. One thing that hasn’t changed in Kansas, however, is that on a family farm all the family works. The weather has not changed either. The sun is still as hot in the summer, and the winters can be as cold as they were in Lindsay’s time.