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Sunday, November 5, 2006
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They all got out and worked hard on Saturday, working with Beaver on getting wood cut for the winter. What a group they made, working very well together, making the shed fill up quickly.

Don, Weston, Wyatt and Ben ran the chainsaws and the rest helped load pieces into the tractor bucket. Eventually, when they got to working from the bottom of a hill back up to the tractor, they formed lines to pass the chunks along, to be placed in the loader. Once the bucket was loaded, Beaver would dump the load into the back of the dump truck.

This "passing the wood" was quite a feat for Leona and Jolene, as some of the pieces weren't what you'd call small! Then the "line" people would come back to the farm with the truck and carry the wood into shed. I was amazed at how much they got done!

Photos © Donna Johnson
Logs dumped from the truck are stacked neatly in the woodshed.

Later in the day, Don got the grill fired up and made two beef tenderloins and a huge prime rib that we'd been saving for this day. What a treat that was! He did a superb job and they were so tasty that Patty declared it to be the best prime rib she'd ever had. That's high praise for our beef and Don's cooking!

Beaver and I thank the whole crew for all their hard work. It was TERRIFIC having each and every one of you here! We look forward to a repeat performance next year...

Photo © Donna Johnson
The Ashby farm wood cutting crew for 2006.

Standing, left to right: Ben Johnson, Jolene Johnson with Brooklynn in front of her, Chris Chap, Wyatt Johnson, Lori Ostendorf, Shawn Ostendorf, Weston Johnson, Leona Anderson, Beaver Johnson, and Eric Anderson. In front are Beaver's dog, Lexie, and Patty and Don Anderson with Ben's lunch-stealing pooch, Buster (only that is a different story).

Photo illustration © Virginia McCorkell; photo of Amy by Larry T. Dake, left.
Photo illustration © Jerrianne Lowther; photo of Brock by Heather Dewey, right.
We rounded up some good helpers for you, Anita! Got any jobs to do?

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I am so excited about being a grandma!

Photo illustration © Virginia McCorkell; photo by Tim Holman
Hunter Timothy Holman manages "finger food" very well.
(Just think of all the fun times in your future, Grandma Peggy!)

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UPDATE -- Aydelotte family arrives safely in California
by Jeff Aydelotte
Antioch, CA

Wednesday marked the end to a very, very, long, grueling drive from Anchorage, Alaska, to Antioch, California. Our time spent in Alaska was very memorable and the friendships we made there will be forever treasured.

Let's Play a Guessing Game: Whenever it is handy to do so, we will run a picture of someone of the subscribers or staff members of our e-magazine. Tell us who you think it is -- we will let you know who was the first to guess it right -- and the correct guess -- in the following week's Bulletin.

(Send us some to run; we will line them up in our staging area to take their turn. Thanks to Ginny McCorkell for sending last week's mystery picture.

Answers to last week's mystery pictures (click here to review them):

I think it is OK for me to do a Guess this week as I am probably the only one of us who remembers being there when the picture was taken, in front of our house, in 1938. I was most likely in the 5th grade, and quite impressed with all the Cheney relatives that met at our house that day. My Grandma Mary Cheney Dake Greer was the hostess at the meeting of that whole family.

The 11th of December
by Larry Dake

"Uh-m ... Checker's got a porcupine needle in his nose," I say into the mike on the two-way radio. The radio sits on our kitchen counter. "Do you copy?"

"Yes, I copy," my boss answers.

"The quill is in pretty deep. What's the trick to getting these things out?" I ask.

I haven't seen my boss for almost two weeks, since I got the pup from him, but I've talked to him on the radio a few times. I've heard that porcupine quills have wicked barbs on the ends of the quill, and that the barbs tear the flesh when you pull them out. In fact, I've heard that they can keep working their way deeper and deeper into the body, where they cause serious damage.

"Just yank it out with a pliers," my boss's voice crackles back over the radio.

I'm thinking, Isn't there something about soaking the quill in vinegar? Or some trick!

"Really! Just yank it out?" I ponder.

"Yep."

"Hm-m. Okay. Thanks." I hang the mike back on the radio.

Just yank it out with a pliers, I tell myself.

Sherry's busy decorating birthday cakes. Amy, age two, is frosting a cookie. Her sister Sarah's on top of the world! Tomorrow's her sixth birthday. She's been anticipating her birthday with great excitement for over a month. She's had her dolls all lined up for the party for a week.

Sarah and Amy fall in tow as I walk back out to the mud room. Checker sits on his rug, a dejected expression on his face. The white quill protrudes awkwardly from the end of his shiny black nose.

"Don't touch it," I warn the kids; "I'll be right back."

I run out to my pickup, without a coat, and rummage around in the dark for my pliers.

I'll just yank it out, I reassure myself.

The Canada geese are honking in the hayfield down below the buildings and a coyote is yipping in the distance. Most of the eight inches of snow we had a few days ago has melted. What's left of it crunches underfoot as I run back to the house.

"Br-r-r-r!" I step back into the mud room and close the door behind me. I kneel by Checker's bed and wrap one arm around him, grip the pliers in my other hand -- and take a closer look at the protruding spear.

Just yank it out! I tell myself, again, to bolster my courage.

I cautiously move the pliers into position. Checker abruptly turns his painful snout away. He senses what is about to happen.

"What are you doing, Daddy?" Sarah exclaims.

"I'm pulling the porcupine quill out of Checker's nose," I say with confidence.

"Why?"

"Because it hurts Checker"

"Why?"

"Because it's stuck in his nose."

"Why?"

I approach the quill with the pliers again.

Just yank it out! I repeat silently.

"Why, Daddy?"

Amy pipes up, "Sit by the funny man!"

Monday night we had driven out to meet the shepherd, Esteban, at his sheep camp. He was a charming and entertaining little man from Peru. Amy sat beside him on his bench and giggled. Then we all laughed and laughed as he talked. We couldn't understand a word he said, but he talked with such expression -- and so fast, moving his whole body, and waving his hands about. Amy wants to go see him again. "Sit by the funny man!" she says.

Just yank it out! I think. Checker ducks the pliers.

"Will Checker cry?" Sarah asks.

"Sit by the funny man!" Amy says.

"Daddy! Will Checker cry?" Sarah asks.

Just yank it out! I tell myself.

"Sit by the funny man! Sit by the funny man!" Amy chants.

"SHER-R-RY!" I holler.

Sherry comes to the door, licking cake frosting from a finger. "Did you want me?"

"Yes," I say, handing her the pliers. "I'll hold Checker."

"What do you want me-e to do?"

"Just yank it out!" I say, indignantly.

Holding Checker tight to my chest, I close my eyes. Sherry quickly grips the quill with the pliers and Checker jerks his head away -- pulling it free. He gives a little yip.

I open my eyes and see that the quill is gone. "See how easy that was!" I say.

***

Sherry wrote a letter home to Minnesota the day after Sarah's birthday: We're just about to meeting. Will write a line on this bumpity road ... We had a fun party at noon yesterday when Larry came home for lunch. We baked cakes, cupcakes, and cookies all day Friday, which are almost gone now -- some are left for Larry's 32nd birthday, today.

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They are made from a mix of wool and angora (rabbit). The wool came from a sheep on some ranch we used to live on, and the angora came from angora rabbits I raised during high school.

After the wool was washed and dried, I sent it away to be carded on a big drum carder. Carding straightens out the wool fibers and gets them all lined up in the same direction in preparation for spinning.

In January I decided I wanted to learn to knit something more advanced than a scarf, so I decided socks would be something fun that would be useful. I started by dying the wool, using Ritz dye. I poured on three different colors, allowing them to blend somewhat, and then steamed the wool to set the dye.

Photos © Sarah Steinhauer
Dyed wool, left; hand carding, right.

Then I decided to add some angora to make the yarn softer and fuzzier, so I blended this into the dyed wool by carding it with hand carders, being careful not to blend the colors together too much.

Photos © Sarah Steinhauer
Carding white angora with dyed wool, left; spinning yarn, right.

The next step in the process was spinning the yarn on my spinning wheel and plying two strands of yarn together to make a strong yarn. After spinning the yarn, I washed and dried the yarn to set the twist and preshrink it.

Photos © Sarah Steinhauer
Washed and dried yarn, left; knitting a sock, right.

Then the knitting started. I didn't really have a set pattern, but I found a book called The Twisted Sisters' Sock Workbook, meant for those knitting socks with handspun yarn. It had some guidelines to follow, depending on how thick your yarn is and how big your foot is. It took a few false starts before I got them to come out in the right size! I knit these socks from the toe to the heel to the cuff. I kept knitting until I ran out of yarn and they ended up to be just below the knee length.

Photos © Sarah Steinhauer
Knee-length socks, left; shorter blue socks, right.

Actually, this was my second pair of socks; my first pair was blue, also done by the same process. They are both very warm socks! Now I've just started spinning wool for another experiment. I am going to try knitting a purse and then felting it. We'll have to see what happens!

OK, that's probably a lot more than you wanted. You can either say that, yes, they were knit using handspun, hand-dyed yarn, or go into more detail using my long explanation and extra pictures!

Photo Editor's Note: Our motto is, "Anything worth doing ... is worth overdoing!" :)

Travelogue t

Bound For Phoenix
by Weston Johnson
Maple Grove, MN

"We could use
A hand full of wheel
And a day off
And a bruised road
However you might feel
Tonight is real."

The sounds of Wilco drifted out of my speakers as I pulled onto Interstate 35, headed south. I couldn't have said it better myself, fellas. After months of anticipation, it was hard to believe I was on the road to Phoenix. Yet there I was at 4:30 on a Friday afternoon, with a hand full of wheel.

I had left work at 4 o'clock, planning to drive until I was too tired to continue. I wasn't sure how long that might be. It had been a long week. I had spent my evenings boxing up what was left of Coni's possessions at her house and bringing them to my place, one carload at a time. It was a project I wanted to finish before I left for my trip and I was able to get it done. But as a result, I hadn't started packing for my trip until 10 o'clock on Thursday night. I wasn't sure about the wisdom of leaving for a long road trip on five hours of sleep, but I figured Dr Pepper, loud music and the excitement of being on the road would carry me for a while.

By the time I reached Ames, the sun was setting over the Iowa cornfields, which had been reduced to stubble by farmers' machines over the previous weeks. As I continued toward Des Moines, the lights of small towns and high school football fields were often all that could be seen in the darkness.

I reached Des Moines at around 8 o'clock and stopped for gas and food before setting out for Omaha, then Lincoln, where I encountered my first adventure of the trip. The speed limit on rural Interstates in Nebraska is 75, and I had grown quite used to this speed by the time I hit Lincoln. Unfortunately, the limit was reduced to 65 on the outskirts of town, then slowed again to 55 through the center of the city. It was hard to keep my car from exceeding that snail's pace, and soon my speed had drifted up to 63. How do I know it was exactly 63, you ask? I'll get to that in a minute.

As I drove through Lincoln at the fairly reasonable speed of 63 miles per hour, I suddenly noticed red and blue lights flashing in my rear view mirror. "Oh come on! I was only going 60-something," I thought as I pulled to the shoulder. I hadn't accounted for a speeding ticket in the budget for my trip.

As I began to ponder the amount of the fine imposed on speeders in the great state of Nebraska, the state trooper approached my car and informed me that I had been driving 63 miles per hour in a 55 miles per hour zone, before asking for my license and registration. I retrieved my license and began rummaging through my glove box. Let's see, insurance papers, a Twin Cities map ... hey, there's that CD I was looking for! But no registration.

I gave the trooper a hopeless look and he said he would go back to his car and run my license, then return for the registration card, which by now I knew full well I had absentmindedly filed in my cabinet at home instead of keeping it my car like a normal person would do. When the officer returned, I explained that I didn't have my registration papers, that I must have filed them back home.

"Have you been pulled over lately?" he asked.

Silly question. If I had been pulled over lately I'd have known full well where my registration was.

"No, not for a long time," was my honest reply.

I guess he figured since I wasn't drunk and was doing no real harm, he'd take pity on me. He issued a warning for speed, and gave me a postcard.

"When you get home, have a law enforcement officer sign this card to prove your car is registered, then mail it to me... Or if you don't get around to it, don't worry about it."

Easy enough -- I think I'll choose option B! I merged back onto the freeway, making a mental note to try very hard to avoid being pulled over again. The next police officer may not be so understanding!

Thankfully, the rest of the first day's drive was rather uneventful. I reached Grand Prairie, Nebraska, at midnight with a solid eight hours of driving under my belt. I pulled off the freeway and found a hotel. As I mentioned last week, it was not the finest of establishments, but after a very long day, it felt good to get some rest.

To be continued...

It is so peaceful and quiet out there, I hate to leave at times.

I told them I would do it under one condition, only: if there were wedding plans in order. (I think they then moved the date up to have my lawn service.)

The mowing season is over for this year; now I have begun to negotiate a contract for next year. Knowing it is not easy to get anything out of "lake folks," I decided to make another proposition. But before I could get back to make my offer, I got their final offer, for which I was happy. Now, for this year, it is free fishing and free gas for the lawnmower. How could I go wrong on a proposition like that!

Seriously, I enjoy getting out and driving the tractor. I was practically born on a tractor and tractors were part of my life.

You heard of the old saying, "keeps Grandma off the streets"; well, I guess this applies to Grandpa as well. And March next year I will hit number 80. I don't intend to just sit and take it easy. Maybe in the coming years I will change my mind, but for now I plan to keep on doing what I like and can do. (Lord willing.)

Who knows? I may want to retire, but there will be time for that up the road, too.

For now it's full speed ahead!

This Week's Special Days
November 7---Election Day
November 11---Veterans Day

This Week's Birthdays
November 7---Thomas Roland Mellon
November 7---Sandra Kay Miller Smith
November 10---Argyle Anderson
November 11---Allison Aydelotte (9 years)
Happy Birthday!

More November Birthdays
' 
November 2---Gert Dake Pettit
November 2---Brianna Susan Lehtola (5 years)

November 12---Patty Anderson Henderson
November 14---Marian Miller
November 17---Zachary Myron
November 17---Mark Andrew Johnson
November 19---Tyler Swenson
November 21---Alex Jo Marie Sigman (2 years)
November 21---Amy Elaine Printz (2 years)
November 23---Jessy Wolff
November 26---DeLoris Anderson
November 27---Shalana Kay Weiland (10 years)
November 30---Aaron Stahlecker

November Anniversaries
Z
November 16---Argyle and Kathlyn Johnson Anderson (43 years)
November 26---Ben and Heather Henderson (2 years)
November 29---Kurtis and Jeni Larson (2 years)

Miss Hetty's Mailbox:

Dear Miss Hetty,

Time brings changes, we hear. Well, for proof you can see, there is 63 years between these two pictures, and needless to say, changes. We were invited to a birthday dinner for both Rich and Verlaine Weiland, whose birthdays are in October. I was glad to have a picture taken with my little brother, Richard, again. He consented to me sending this to Miss Hetty.

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Keep Us Posted!

Please drop Miss Hetty a line and tell us who, and what, we've missed. And how about a report (photos welcome) of YOUR special celebration?

'Many Thankse
Everyone!

Miss Hetty

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Maybe it was because of that first picture of a special sunrise one frosty morning. Marci captured that one of a kind picture just at the right moment. Not often a picture I send in is appropriate for that coveted first page picture.

I was so touched at the story of Jake. A pet can be an important family member, and losing Jake so suddenly will be difficult to adjust to -- even Tate will keenly miss Jake. It was wise to have determined to "put him out of his misery," with all those injuries.

For Weston to have attended the ACC conference in Arizona would have filled a lonely void in his heart, and it was something he and Coni would have participated in together. The pain of loneliness does not go away soon.

Funny how we can allow our minds to drift past the results of the hurricanes when the people involved are still facing the damage and clean up. Thanks, Steve and Marian, for sharing your situation with us. Mother Nature has renewed the landscape as much as she can. Do you have any pictures of new growth of nature there?

It was quite a surprise to see Twila Jo and family returning to California, leaving the Alaska they were just getting to enjoy next to the grandparents. Seeing the picture of the huge U-Haul and six children made it no small matter to head out all those miles in uncertain weather at this time of year. We wish them well.

Well, here is a rousing applause for Miss Kitty finally getting her turn at the keyboard. It's been so long since we heard her side of the story of the Lowther household. To hear what the frozen north is like about now was interesting to us here in Minnesota where the leaves aren't even totally off the trees yet. It's expected to be 60 here tomorrow and then turn very cold. So, we hope to finalize our yard for winter if we can if it is such a nice day. We can see the snow out that window past Miss Kitty. Wish we were heading into spring.

As I was typing this, the following e-mail just came from Jerrianne in Alaska: It's snowing like crazy here ... but it could turn to rain this afternoon and then back to snow tonight. I'm not going ANYWHERE -- except to the kitchen to make breakfast!

So, the Matriarch has Don's nice warm boots on. Could anything be nicer than a roomy pair of sheepskin slippers on cold feet? No reason why they can't be your dress up as well as dress down, and anything else that will make a Minnesota winter more bearable for you, Dorothy. When we get older and less able, we find it easy to change our attitudes toward things. I noticed your footstool was one Don made ... and I knew it was your feet with the purple dress hem showing, Dorothy. Actually, your slippers look brand new.

So, Ben has a new dog, Jack. We likely will have another update on him as time passes.

I was so glad that it appears we have a new "About" page in The Bulletin. I especially loved this week's biography of Blanche, as she became a dear and special friend, easy to become attached to when Marjorie and I were in their home so much. She was so quiet and efficient, very thoughtful and always wanting to serve just however she could. We would know Jim still misses her keenly. As folks get older they need one another even more, but often one is left alone. I am so glad to have the opportunity to be a companion to Roy, whose beloved Edith died of cancer, leaving him alone almost 15 years ago. He is a very dear man, and I respect him highly for his honesty and standards and kindness.

I haven't the slightest clue as to the GUESS pictures this week.

LTD Storybrooke -- You DID write for us! Thank you. Clever title to your story. Come Crazy, Go Crazy. Very fitting, as you read the story. To remember all those minute details is a gift, Larry. We "got the picture," just from your words. You were fortunate to find a medicine from the nurse phone call that made such a difference for you.

We were not expecting to get a Travelogue from Tom and Lou Miller. What scenery in the background! California must contribute to keeping young in appearance as well as heart. My sister-in-law, Anita Weiland, has a special fondness for Tom and Lou, as she often mentions, so it was very nice reading this Travelogue about them. I can't remember ever meeting Tom, Sr.

The last photo looked like the work of a professional dish stacker. Was that frog added later?

I don't know how 34 pages went so fast. They keep getting better and better -- and we just turn over the last page of The Bulletin and start looking for the next one. Have to wait a whole week, though, as this is only Sunday afternoon.

Beautiful day here in MoundsView, Minnesota.

Betty Droel

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