Odds and ends

Grandson Jonathan came up from Carthage to visit his family and requested my potato soup.  The secret to my potato soup is lots of cream, so I milked Bonnie for four mornings straight.  She doesn't give a lot of milk these days, although as the grass gets greener, her output increases.  Because the winter was so bitter cold, I let the calf have all her milk for two or three months straight and bought our milk at the store.  I'm glad I am not forced to milk my cow come rain or shine.    
For many years, I milked anywhere from two to a half-dozen cows and fed their milk to baby calves, so I was tied down to the milking routine in a big way.  Believe me, we never went on vacation, even overnight; I had to be home for the twice-daily milking.  Not that I really cared, back then; most times we really couldn't afford a vacation anyhow, and Cliff has always been a home body.  And I did love my cows and calves.

(Click on any picture to see it in more detail)

I found this picture from the mid-1990's.  Now, why I was hand-milking a cow when I owned a bucket milker, I can't tell you.  Maybe she had just freshened (had her calf) and I was just getting enough out to relieve the pressure.  Notice my bare feet: see how close the cow's hind foot is to my left foot?  That poor foot was stepped on many times over the years, but that didn't make me wear shoes.  A podiatrist took x-rays of my feet a few years ago and asked, "When did you break your toe?"  
Let me count the times and ways.  I remember over the years how children and adults would ask why I never wore shoes, and I really had no answer except that it's one of my many eccentricities.   I just feel much freer when I don't have to wear shoes.  

Cliff's shop is located in the area where I gardened back then.

This picture was in the previous entry, but I like how it shows all the calf hutches in the background.  I'd pour the milk into a bucket and then pour it from the bucket into half-gallon calf bottles and feed the babies.  I had hangers for the bottles that hung on the panels in front of their hutches, so I didn't have to stand and hold the bottle; I'd just walk along hanging the full bottles, refilling them as needed for the next calves in line (each calf only got one bottle-full).  
There are reasons for the individual houses for calves:  Young baby calves get sick really easily, and if they're cooped up together, germs spread like wildfire.  Another problem is that after they've had their bottle, they tend to nurse on one another, whether it's on the little udders of the heifers or on the umbilical site or one another's ears.  This can cause problems of various kinds.  So I'd keep the calves separate until they were well weaned.  Believe me, I spent a lot of time cleaning those hutches and carrying fresh water and calf starter (grain) to each calf.  It was fun, and I'd love to do it with just one calf again; but not on the scale that I did back then!  

This is my daughter's handsome son, Brett, with one of many Sparky-dogs we've had.  For years, I would consider getting no other breed of dog than fox terriers or rat terriers, and I always named them Sparky.  The breed is highly intelligent, and they'll usually let you know when a stranger is on the property; and yet, they're great with children.  There's a blog I enjoy reading because it has lots of pictures of squirrel dogs, and those remind me of the terriers I've had in the past.

This is Brett again.  Yes, I kept chickens back then, too.  And occasionally turkeys and geese and ducks, and sometimes goats.  When the kids came to visit, they thought they were at a zoo.  


At that time I had a varmint-proof chicken house and pen; even the top of the pen was covered to keep predators out.  That's the only way you can keep poultry around here.  
That's enough strolling down memory lane for awhile.  Looks like I have an application to fill out, and a $57 check to write to the IRS, so I can get a copy of our 1986 tax return.  *sigh*

Back to the 90's

I've been searching for our 1986 income tax records.  As always, I got sidetracked and ended up reminscing and scanning pictures from the 1990's.

Oldest grandson, Arick, with my parents.  Daddy had cancer and lived less than a year after this was taken, I believe.  

Here I am posing with a chow we had back then, Brandy, in front of a garden.  In the far background you can see several individual calf hutches; I'd sometimes have fifteen or twenty at a time.  I also kept calves in the hog-houses in the background, on the left.  

My two oldest grandkids stayed with us for about a month one summer.  Arick kept me hopping, let me tell you.  

This is how happy I look after finding morel mushrooms.  Nice outfit I'm wearing, eh?  

I wish my backside looked like that nowadays.  I was babysitting Arick while his mom finished school, and I walked every day back then.  Arick loved it.  


The more I look at these old pictures, but more I realize why my knees are bad.

Old photos

I've been familiarizing myself with Iphoto, and in the process I've made a few trips down memory lane. One thing I noticed was that I have had Jersey cows in my life quite a bit, and have the pictures to prove it.

Cliff with our son Jimmy, 1967. That was my dad's Sears Suburban lawn mower, which we have now; it still runs.

This is me (was I really that slim?) with a registered Jersey heifer, "Donna's Generator Joy". Her sire was the top Jersey bull of that time. This wasn't long before she had her first calf.

I don't recall which cow this one grew up to be. I do remember the Waylon Jennings T-shirt I'm wearing there, though. I loved Waylon, and still do! May he rest in peace.

This is from the period when I was raising twenty-five to fifty baby calves a year. I had eight or ten calf hutches like the ones in this picture; that's my two oldest grandchildren, Arick and Amber, with me.

There I am with all the grandchildren I had in 1991. The dog is our old Chow, Brandy. Arick and Amber are each holding a baby goat.

good times

I've been looking through photos again, most of them from the 1998 through 2002. The pictures aren't the quality we get from digital, but the memories they evoke are still pleasant.

In the last half of the '90's, Cliff and I spent lots of time at antique tractor shows. We took our camper everywhere, taking in the tractors and steam engines. That's me (knock-knees and all) at Midwest Old Thresher's Reunion in Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. We've been there several times, and in my book it's tops. A show in Rollag, Minnesota, is another one I'd rate highly.

Grandson Arick accompanied us to most of the shows.

Granddaughter Monica couldn't do much with my old guitar back then; she's getting pretty good though, these days, as you can tell in this video.

When she's in tenth grade, the music teacher at school has a class for guitar students she'll be able to attend. I can hardly wait!

Oops, skipping up to 2002, that's me and my daughter-in-law with a couple of the girls in back.

Here's an earlier trip to Worlds of Fun with the daughter and her two girls. I used to love that place; now you'd have to pay me a pretty penny to get me to go.

As you look at this picture, keep in mind that my husband doesn't do well with heights. So there must have been something that really needed tending to, for him to take this kind of risk; he can't remember what it was, though. My two oldest grandchildren are joining in the fun. To be honest, this picture makes my stomach hurt a little. This looks so precarious!

This is my son's youngest, Lyndsay. She was born in 2000, so this must be from 2001. She went to sleep hugging her corn-on-the-cob.

Haaaa!!!!

I was poking through the many pictures my cousin has added to our family tree site and came upon this one, a photo I had never seen. I'm glad I now have it, because it reminds me of all the years I milked cows.

It must have been taken in 1991 when Pauline, her husband, and their youngest daughter visited us. That's my mom's pickup truck parked in front of the mobile home in which she lived (our renters live there now).

For years I milked by hand, but by the time this picture was taken I was using bucket milkers. Cliff built that cart for me to transport all my stuff to the barn.

I never, ever wore shoes at home. The only reason I wear shoes these days is the curse of plantar fasciitis.

Yep, that's the real me. In 1991.

Thanks for the laugh, Pauline. When Cliff gets up, he's going to love this!

Just a few more

Me, age 16, it says on the back; I think I might have been younger.

No wonder I didn't date back then.
My daughter, probably age 16.
My son, displaying his temper.

My mom's parents are in this picture, but both their faces are blurry (Grandma has a red "X", Grandpa has a black "X"). Picture was taken around 1899.

Can you imagine all those kids packed into that tiny schoolhouse?

My paternal grandpa as I remember him.

Various old pictures

My daughter and I spent at least an hour yesterday going through old photos, looking for baby pictures of her son, Brett. In the process I found pictures I had forgotten about. They're all entirely unrelated, but some of my family might get a kick out of them.


This was our Christmas card one year. The big black Holstein/Brown Swiss cow was the last milk cow I had on the place. I raised her from a baby.

That's me and grandson Arick on a roller coaster at World's of Fun.

On the back of this picture it says, "Grandad Allen standing up... brothers". Since it was written by my Aunt Ruth and she calls him grand-dad, I would assume that's my great-grandfather... my dad's grandpa. This is my mom with grandson Arick, who is 23 years old now. Judging by the box in the foreground, I think this is when he and his mom were getting ready to go to Germany to join my son. This is my dad's first wife, my sister's mother, as a child. She died giving birth to my brother. I don't know what I'm doing with this, and there's no name on the back. But due to the baby's resemblance to my grandson Arick (see above) and the date written on it, I think it's my ex-daughter-in-law. Arick's mom.

This is my son, Jim; I thought it was right out of basic training, but he commented: "That would have to have been after Germany because the white looking cord is a German Marksmanship medal, and the red and green one was a unit award from 3rd Infantry in Germany. I'm guessing that was when I came back because we had to wear the dress uniform to travel back then."

various old pictures

I don't have any real interesting blog material this morning, so I'll share some ancient pictures I have scanned and stored on my computer.
My mom's Aunt Nellie. I don't know for sure what side of Mother's family tree she's on; but I've milked many a cow in my time, and I can tell you that's a very gentle animal that doesn't have to be put in a stanchion and given grain to keep it from walking away.
My mom and her siblings, with their mom looking on at the left. I wish Mother hadn't written on the front of the picture. As a child, I thought it very strange that baby boys wore dresses in the olden days. This must have been taken before my Uncle Leo was born.

Keziah Allen, my dad's grandmother (I think).


On the back of this picture it says, "Bud Allen and Uncle John Allen". This tells me they're in my dad's family tree somewhere; that's all I know.

Walking down memory lane

I haven't accomplished much today. This happens every time I start going through old boxes of pictures and keepsakes. I find pictures I had totally forgotten about; I read letters written to my mother before I was born, and even some of her school papers from the 1920's, much of it nibbled on by mice until you can't make anything out. I make myself throw lots of things away because you just can't keep everything.

Cliff and our son Jimmy (now aged 41) mowing the yard.
Jim, standing in the baby crib that's behind me now, as I type this. The baby crib I can't make myself get rid of.
That's a very young me. A farmer used to give me his orphan lambs to raise. I had a nice little flock started... three females and a male... until the neighbor's German Shepherds killed them one night.
Yes, I did use a wringer washing machine back in the early 1970's. My daughter has some bubbles on her head in this picture, put there by her brother. Pedal harder, Jimmy!
That's Cliff's youngest sister (the one we ride motorcycles with these days) and my son on our first milk cow, Suzie. Nothing shook Suzie up. Nothing.

Has it really been so long ago? How did I get this old? I still remember what it felt like to hold my children in my arms.

I need to stay out of those boxes.

A blast from the past

In the process of moving, I unearthed a group of pictures from 1978 to 1980. I have very few pictures from that period, so I was elated to find these.
That's me on my horse, Lad, around 1980.
If I had to choose one dog to keep forever, it would be Suzie. How we loved that mutt. We think she crossed the highway chasing a rabbit and was struck and killed by a car. Cliff and I returned from a walk to find her lifeless body beside the road. We'd had her for perhaps four years. The kids loved this three-wheeler. The daughter's best friend, the local Baptist preacher's girl, broke her arm riding this thing. And tried to cover it up from her family. And then lied about how it happened so she wouldn't get in trouble with her parents for riding the three-wheeler. I spilled the beans.
My mom always made the kids unique birthday cakes. This was my son's "keep on truckin" cake. Must have been around the time of "Smokey and the Bandit". We had a friend named Tom with an in-ground pool back then. I think both kids learned to swim there.

That's Cliff with his mom and dad and siblings. Both parents have long-since passed, and also his brother Warren (bottom right).