Memorial Day

Hey, a happy Memorial Day to you! (Sorry---in case you stopped by here early this morning and saw only the photos: I had uploaded them yesterday afternoon, intending to add the text in the evening, but my husband whisked me off for a drive to his parents' grave and a stop at Dairy Queen. So, you see, it was all his fault!)

This next Civil War soldier died in 1864. If he had been killed in battle, wouldn't he be buried where that took place? Or, did they ship the bodies home? Otherwise, I wondered if maybe he was sent home wounded and then died.

Next is a photo taken last year on May 19, six days before the devastating tornado storm swept through the area:

Most of the grove behind the cemetery met its demise in the wind last year. This gravestone in a far corner belongs to a 19-year-old woman---"Sada, Wife of Royal Wirth"---who may have died in childbirth. I think my aunt is the one who places flowers there every year, as well as by a few other old stones. Obviously, I inherited my tendency towards sappy sentimentalism.....

Here's another photo from last year.......a tall pine tree guarding over a metal headstone embossed with the clinging-to-the-Cross motif.

Now the tree is gone. I counted approximately 130 rings on the stump.

It was one year ago today---May 25---that the F5 tornado churned across the landscape from Parkersburg to Stanley, Iowa. On May 19 last year, after I left the cemetery, I stopped and took a quick photo of the farm where I grew up, with its landmark round barn.

Here’s a photo taken from the same spot---at sunset a little over a year later---on the evening the tornado came through. The barn’s profile appears a bit altered.

Here's a shot from the day after the storm. Yup, the barn roof was blown away, revealing the silo standing in the center. Darn.....in my whole life, I never thought to take a photo of the inside view of the barn's roof, which was quite an amazing sight to see.....darn.

Just for remembrance sake, here are a few hailstones that fell at our farm as the tornado was enacting its destruction a couple miles to the south.

Ok, you can exit through the old cemetery’s gate (don’t trip over the waving flag’s shadow) to take your leave of today’s blogpost……

Thanks for stopping by! Here’s an article written by an editor at the Waterloo Courier. He and his family live about a mile away from the old cemetery……they lost their house and outbuildings in last year’s Memorial Weekend storm. [Update: The same Courier editor/reporter has a front-page article in today's paper: Feeling Gravity's Pull......about how tornadoes form and gain intensity......it may involve something called "gravity waves".]

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Have a fun a safe holiday!

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Roadside Flower Patrol

I took a walk yesterday morning and found out first hand what a difference a few days can make! Lots of bloomin’ wildflowers have suddenly made their debut for the season, including the Prairie Phlox decked out in their various color tones---whitish to pale pink to lavender to fuchsia.

The name phlox comes from the Greek word for “flame”. Their habitat is in dryish, rocky or sandy prairies and open oak savannas---and roadsides---throughout the tallgrass prairie region. The Meskwaki made a tea of the leaves and used it as a wash to treat eczema. The root was used as part of a love potion……so says Wildflowers of the Tallgrass Prairie by Sylvan Runkel and Dean Roosa. Phlox varieties for home gardens have been adapted from these native species.

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Next we have Golden Alexanders, also called Golden Meadow Parsnip. Early settlers thought this plant would cure syphilis, so says the above-mentioned book and Tallgrass Prairie Wildflowers by Doug Ladd and Frank Oberle. The Meskwaki used the root to reduce fever and ground the flower parts into a snuff used to treat “illness in the head”.

I stumbled upon this nest which appears to be is use by two different birds. Is that possible? Or else a nest hijacking has occurred. I think the bluish eggs belong to Redwing Blackbirds, but the brownish one must belong to someone else. There was a Bobolink hanging around on the fence nearby, but I don’t know what their eggs look like. [Update: The brownish egg may have been left there by a Cowbird, as that is their habit.....read about them here.]

I don’t know what this next one is yet, but am working on it. If you recognize it, please let me know what it is.

This is some type of Mustard or Cress, I think.....

Wild Strawberry is next. What is that pencil shaped plant behind it? I’ve seen those all my life, but am not sure of the name. As kids, we called it “snake-grass” and we played with it, pulling apart the sections and putting them back together again. [Update: It is Horsetail..........a living fossil, so they say....]

Not sure what this grass is that appears to be shedding seeds already:

On the way back, I decided to get down to ground level to catch the dandelions from a different angle, and wouldn’t you know, my daughter and her friends came driving along and saw me. What a weirdo they must think I am. Can you spot Betsy, too? She almost blends right in with the fluffy white seed heads.

You may have been bored to death by this post, but I had a great time with it……taking the photos and looking up the flowers in the reference books. As I wandered out there along the roadside, searching for wildflowers, it felt as if I had finally returned home again after a long absence.

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We don't usually do anything special over the Memorial Day weeked......just the usual farm stuff, lawnmowing, etc. My son will get home from Des Moines tomorrow.......he ran in the shuttle hurdle relay at the state track meet on Thursday. (I did not attend.) The boys ran their best time of the year, but did not make the finals. That's ok.....they were excited simply to get the chance to run in Drake Stadium.

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Have a fun and safe Memorial Day holiday! Then summer will be off and running......

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Kitties Have Moved On

Miss Kitty's two kittens have left the nest; their new mother--Becky, by name--picked them up last evening (sniff, sniff.....boohoo). Becky sure looks happy, though!

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Here's two short videos of the kitties having fun with their mama, Miss Kitty, a few nights ago.....(sorry about the background noise; a fan was running to dry the glue on my son's Physics project---a toothpick bridge.). If you only have time to watch one of the videos, watch the second one.

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SkyWatch #45

Welcome to northeast Iowa!  This SkyWatch post is being guest-hosted by Buster……..he is down in the left corner of this first photo:

He and I were out walking last evening under these feathery cloud formations.

Please visit Skyley.com to find the many other links to beautiful sky photos from around the world.

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A Farmer Rests

Yesterday, as gusty winds blew across the fields surrounding our church and cemetery, a farmer was laid to rest. In the last 20 years of his life, he had endured much adversity, but he always was in church on Sunday mornings with a smile on his face. His situation was such that if you thought you were having a bad day, all you had to do was think of him and you’d realize that your problems were miniscule.

He loved cows, though he was forced to sell his dairy herd 20 years ago due to a devastating car accident in which he and his wife were seriously injured and two of their four sons left permanently and profoundly disabled. Several years ago, this farmer was again badly injured in a farm accident, requiring a lengthy recuperation. As if that wasn't enough, he was diagnosed with late-stage terminal cancer just a few weeks ago and passed away last Saturday night, at 62 years young.

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This poem written by the farmer's 13-year-old granddaughter was printed on the back of the funeral folder:

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Little Girl

four years old

on the countryside

waiting on the front porch

picking flowers

catching fireflies

waiting for a tractor ride

and she sees him coming around the bend

she's smiling

its her special time

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Little Girl

nine years old

on the countryside

waiting on the front porch

chasing chickens and

riding her bike

waiting for a game of cards

and she sees him walking up the steps

she jumps up and he shuffles the deck

she's smiling

its her special time

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Teenager

thirteen years old

on the countryside

waiting on the front porch

and she's crying

because her miracle never came

the flowers aren't in bloom

fireflies have died

and there's no more tractor rides

but she remembers those times

and she'll be waiting on the front porch

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oh, I'll be waiting

on the front porch

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I love you, Grandpa!

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Amazingly, my eyes stayed dry throughout the funeral. The lunch serving and clean-up kept everyone bustling about, busy hands masking heavy hearts. Tears came while I took a walk last evening, though…...a good time for that to happen as the warm breeze quickly dried my eyes. The most beautiful cloud in the twilight sky seemed to hover over the deceased’s farmer's earthly home; that little pointer at the lower left of the cloud is directed right at his farmstead. Hopefully, it is a sign of God's care and blessing on the grieving family remaining there.

Across the road from his farm is farm where too much trouble and sorrow took place several years ago, also; sickness and death causing another top-notch dairy herd to be dispersed and a family scattered. A beautiful farmstead is still there, but those who really cared about it are gone. That makes me sad…..thinking of the departed farmers who had so much pride wrapped up in land and livestock and then the tides of sickness, injury, and death roll in and wash it all away. That's life, I guess.

Sorry to veer into depressing territory in yesterday’s and today’s posts. I need to get a grip and think of something cheery to blog about.

I’m supposed to rejoice that the departed ones are now in heaven…..ok, I’ll try harder to do that. Mostly I miss seeing them around the community and hearing their voices. Their souls have ascended to heaven, so we are taught. That reminds me…...today is Ascension Day and we have a church service tonight in commemoration of that event in the life of Christ. Does your church have an Ascension service?

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Drying and Dying

Besides being superb for chopping rye, yesterday’s sunny, breezy conditions were perfect for drying laundry outdoors, too.  Thank goodness for that, as our dryer still languishes in an unrepaired state.

Lilacs swaying in the wind watched from overhead as I pinned the clothes to the line.  Yesterday was probably the lilacs’ peak day of beauty and fragrance.  It’ll be all downhill from here. 

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Yesterday morning while I was way out in the field videotaping the rye chopping, I happened to look back toward the house just in time to see a FedEx truck leaving our place in a cloud of dust.  Hmm……I wasn’t expecting any deliveries, so had no idea what the driver might have dropped off.

When I got back to the house later, my daughter had just come down from upstairs and she excitedly said, “Do you have my package?”  I didn’t, and I wondered what she was talking about.  She proceeded to tell me she had just received an email from FedEx saying they had left a package for her “at the front door”.  It contained a plane ticket and and other important paperwork for her trip abroad this summer.

We searched the area “at the front door” and found no sign of a package.  We checked around the other doors,  under the bushes by the house, in the garage, in the car, in the pickup……no sign of a package.  The dogs couldn’t have carried it off because they had been out in the field with me.  The gang of cats parked outside the house door were of no help, they simply directed wide-eyed stares at us.

My daughter found the package’s tracking number and I called the FedEx 800 number to explain the problem.  The representative was very helpful and said she would contact the driver to come back to our house or give us a call.  Meanwhile, I worked on getting lunch ready for the guys and Daughter headed to Waterloo to run errands. 

When Husband came in later to eat, I told him about the FedEx truck coming here, but apparently leaving no package.  Right away, he said, “There’s something hanging on the Morton Building door.”  What?? The “Morton Building” is a machinery shed beyond the garage……not near the house at all.  Sure enough, though, the FedEx package was hanging on the shed door behind some long grass.  So that was the “front door” the driver had referred to in the email??  Goodness……was he unable to tell the difference between the machine shed and the house??

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On a somber note, I will be helping at a funeral lunch at our church today.  The deceased was in his early 60’s, seemingly healthy until less than a month ago when he was diagnosed with cancer.  Three Sundays ago his name was mentioned in the church service prayers and now he’s passed away already.  His death doesn’t seem right at all---as if death ever does---he and his family have carried a heavy load over the past 25 years and his sudden tragic death seems to be the ultimate insult added to injury.

Last night a group of us living and hopefully healthy church members met to set up tables for the funeral lunch.  On my way there, I could see the deceased farmer’s fields and farm buildings.  His tractor was sitting behind a shed…..I have no idea if he felt well enough to do any fieldwork this spring.  Our church congregation is not especially close……there are several extended family groups and you don’t know much about the groups you’re not a part of.  I’m guessing that’s typical of a rural/small town church where the same close-knit families have been in attendance for generations. 

My sister’s father-in-law passed away a few months ago and his gravestone has just been installed.  Here’s the inscription on the back of it……the first line of Emily Dickinson’s famous poem:

I didn’t mean to cast a pall on your day.  Have a good one!

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Rye & Lilacs

Today:

Lilacs are in their short-lived prime.......(I wish you could lean in and enjoy a whiff of the lovely fragrance.):

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Today:

Chopping rye.......

And, bagging the chopped rye, which will be fed to the cows later in the year.....(Do not, I repeat, DO NOT lean into those spinning power-take-off shafts!):

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Have great afternoon!

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P.S. - I enjoyed this article about prairie plants from Sunday's Des Moines Register.

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Journey To Orchard

Did you know there is a tiny town by the name of “Orchard” in Iowa? The DOT map lists the population there as 88. My mom, my sister, and I visited there on Sunday during our cemetery tour. Maybe its location was a factor in Orchard remaining small in size……it sits on a county road, a few miles off the beaten tracks of busy highways 218 and 9. The railroad runs through it, northwest to southeast, however.

As we neared Orchard from the east, we slowed up for Mennonite girls on bicycles, then steered sideways to allow farm implements nearly as wide as the road to pass by. A well-kept-up Congregational Church with a nifty bellfry welcomed us once we entered the city limits.

Reminders of the past sat along Main Street……several old, abandoned storefronts. The Orchard Farmers Co-op appeared to still be doing business, however.

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Our reason for visiting Orchard was to find the local cemetery, of course, which was not a difficult task. It was waiting quietly for us just west of town, amidst trees and farm fields.

We were looking for the grave of Elihu Orchard who had married Mary Blue, a sister of my mother’s great-grandmother, Emma Blue Wilkin. My mother’s father’s middle name was Elihu, bestowed on him in honor of his great-uncle. In the printed Wilkin history I have, it states that Elihu Orchard was known as “Uncle Tip” because he had fought in the Battle of Tippecanoe, but obviously, that is incorrect because Tippecanoe took place in 1811 and Elihu Orchard wasn’t born until 30 years after that. Perhaps his father, Moses Orchard, the founder of the town of Orchard, had taken part in that battle. Or else, Elihu’s nickname originated for a different reason. He was a soldier in the Civil War and the family history says he was involved “in the siege of a Spanish fort and Blakly Mobile”, whatever that means. (That can be Sempringham’s puzzle to work on, if he wishes.)

That’s my mom!

This next photo of a child’s gravestone is being included because of its design……the fallen bird with one wing up against a cross. That’s what it appeared to be, anyway. I’d not seen anything like that before.

By the time we were done wandering around the Orchard Cemetery, the afternoon was still young enough that we decided to attempt finding Riverside Cemetery in Charles City. After asking for directions, we found it easily, and what a sprawling and well-cared-for place it is, located on 49 wooded acres along the east bank of the Cedar River, north of downtown Charles City. There was statuary in the old sections of the cemetery……too bad the faces are so mottled……these statues evidently were in vogue as cemetery decor back in the early 1900’s.

We were looking for the grave of Emma and Mary Blue’s mother, Catherine VanAmberge Blue Trussler, who had come to Iowa from New York State. There wasn’t enough time for us to do a thorough search for her stone, though, because the cemetery is so immense. The caretakers’ office has all the grave locations on file, but it isn’t open on Sundays.

There were some unusual gravestones there……these final photos show three that have a tree or log theme:

Someday, maybe I will return to Riverside Cemetery to do a more in-depth search.

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Mom, Sis, and I truly had a wonderful day together---lots of laughter and reminiscing. The weather was pleasant---almost warm---with sunny skies overhead.

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[P.S. – Emma Blue was married to Minard Artemus (Art) Wilkin who had a photography business in Charles City back in the 1800’s. His father, Ira Wilkin, worked with daguerreotypes in various places in the Midwest. I would love to find an old photo with either of their names on it. If you ever find one, may I get a copy of it? Please, pretty please!]

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Have a great day!

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Cuttin' Thru The Rye

Raw---blurry, even---footage of what’s happening on the dairy farm today: Husband is cutting the rye. Tomorrow---weather permitting---the cut swaths of rye will be chopped, blown into a silage wagon, and then blown into a plastic bag. The bagged rye silage will be fed to the cows later in the year.

(I don't know why the above text decided to link to the photo.)

Here’s a video. There was a strong wind blowing, so turn down the volume to avoid hearing the annoying noise from that.

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Meet Me In Grundy Center

You may be familiar with “Solomon Grundy, Born on Monday……”, but have you ever heard of Grundy Center, Iowa? The town of 2500 is the county seat of Grundy County, home to some of the best farmland in the world, so they say.

I was in Grundy Center last Friday afternoon and evening for the district track meet. Raindrops began falling shortly after the field events commenced at 4 p.m. I was umbrella-less, having somehow managed to forget mine at home.

That absent-mindedness provided the perfect excuse for a brief foray into Grundy’s downtown, where I found a $2 umbrella at the locally-owned drug store. You get what you pay for---the umbrella proved to be uncloseable, once opened---but it did keep my head and shoulders mostly dry for the next few hours. Before heading back to Spartan Field, I snapped a few photos near the limestone courthouse. This statuary gal resembles her famous counterpart who stands in New York Harbor. The face seems quite different, though…..maybe they are distant cousins.

It behooved me to not waste much time downtown, or I would miss seeing my son run and jump, but here’s one more architectural feature along Grundy Center’s main thoroughfare:

I hustled back to the track meet and for the next several hours this was the view above my head:

Oh, look, its our friendly, neighborhood Earth Science teachers. They had forgotten their umbrellas, too, and had just bought these blue ones at the Dollar General Store on the edge of Grundy. Haha……I got a better deal than they did…..their umbrellas cost $5 apiece! Smiley-Guy on the left used to drive the milk truck which comes to our farm every other day; he and I would often discuss field rocks and prairie flowers. Then, all of a sudden last year, he decided to put his college degree to use and become a science teacher. How could he do such a thing! I miss our conversations.

You say you haven’t seen enough evidence of the alleged rain at the track meet……well, this next shot is offered as more proof. By evening’s end, my shoes and pant-legs were thoroughly mud-caked.

At this district meet, first and second-place finishers in all events earn a trip to the state track meet in Des Moines. One of the relays my son was in came in second by .03 seconds, though to my eyes it looked like they were third. Apparently, the eyeballs don’t have it when it comes to calling close races. The relay boys are ecstatic….they’ll be headed to Des Moines in a few days, and if I can find my way there, too, you’ll have to tolerate a blog report from Drake Stadium.

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Accompanying me to the track meet were four baskets filled with wet laundry. I gambled that a town the size of Grundy Center would have a laundromat and I was not disappointed. The only question in my mind was: What brand of farm implements were sold in the past here in Petersen's building?

Standing under several towering larch trees in the City Park was this one-room schoolhouse, labeled “Colfax #9”. It is also known as “The Herb Quick School”. John Herbert Quick grew up in Grundy County in the mid-to-late 1800’s and eventually authored several books. From childhood days, he had dreamed of being a writer: “I cannot remember when things that I saw and experienced did not appeal to me as the stuff of writing.” (Sounds like a blogger-wannabe.)

On my way to Grundy Center, I had dropped my daughter off at UNI for her Camp Adventure lifeguard training. After the track meet, I picked her up at Jimmy John’s Sandwich Shop on “The Hill” near campus. Yeah, the scene is somewhat blurry, but what do you expect with “Extremely Fast Delivery”!

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I'm writing this on Sunday night after a long day of cemetery-touring; a report about that will be filed in the next post. There’s just never-ending excitement around here. Have a nice day!

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THEOLOGY ON A TOMBSTONE

Today, my mom, my sister, and I will spend time prowling around in cemeteries…….weather permitting.  We’ll be hunting for gravestones of long-passed family members; now is a good time to do that, with Memorial Day approaching.

Old cemeteries are fascinating places……quiet and peaceful, too.  I enjoy pondering the tombstones, with their displays of meaningful artwork.  Below is an engraving that sums up Christian---and, more specifically, Lutheran---theology in a single scene.  Clinging to the Cross of Christ.  It graces an old gravestone in a Lutheran cemetery near Readlyn.  This was the first time I’d seen this particular design used. 

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Have a pleasant Sunday!  If you have any extra warm weather sitting around gathering dust, send it to Iowa!

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