I Remember California's Yesterdays

By Xlibris US

The articles in this book are part of a collection produced by my mother, Ruth Vivian (Greathouse) Orzalli, while writing a Bi- Weekly I REMEMBER Column for the Sierra Booster, a Bi-Weekly Newspaper published by Hal Wright in Loyalton California.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781499051001

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I REMEMBER

CALIFORNIA’S YESTERDAYS

Ruth Vivian Orzalli

Copyright © 2014 by John Orzalli.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-4990-5101-8

                eBook            978-1-4990-5100-1

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

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Rev. date: 08/07/2014

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CONTENTS

REMEDY OF CHOICE

COUNTRY DOCTOR

THANKSGIVING IN 1920

GYPSY LIFE

GOOD OLD SUMMER TIME

WATCHES

ELECTION BOARD

THINGS LOVED

VISIT WITH LITTLE BROTHER

THE LEDGER

MAKING THE BED

MOTHERS ARE LIKE THAT

FAR EAST SOUVENIRS

HANG IT ON THE WALL

WRITING INSTRUMENTS

DECORATION DAY

DOLLS

BOOKS FOR CHILDREN

HUMBOLDT COUNTY

HYACINTH BLOOMS

GETTING READY FOR CHRISTMAS

GOING TO THE FAIR

RHUBARB

SMALL GAME TRAPPING

LEGGINGS

FOOD IN A PAIL

CHRISTMAS 1918

THE CHANTS OF CHILDREN

LITTLE GIRLS DRESSED UP

MEN’S FANCY DRESS

SACKS

WALL PAPER

MAKE DO PLAYTIME

HUMBOLDT COUNTY PLACES

GRANDMA ROWLAND

SUMMER WORK AWAY

FOURTH OF JULY

THE GREAT DEPRESSION

BARBER SHOPS

EARLY 30’S

CHRISTMAS 1915

THE ORPHEUM IN SAN FRANCISCO

JUNE WEDDING DAYS

COYOTES

EARTHQUAKES

FIRST DAY AT SCHOOL

MOUNTAIN LIONS

CHRISTMAS PROGRAMS

EDISON’S MACHINE

THANKSGIVING EFFORTS

FOOD PREPARATION

MAMA’S TRUNKS

CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

CATALOG SHOPPING

FAMILY REUNIONS

SUPPORT GARMENTS

NOSTALGIA MAGAZINES

KNITTING

SCRAPBOOKS AND PHOTO ALBUMS

GRADUATION TIME

GOING BACK HOME

IT’S A SHAM

PLAYTIME

SANTA ROSA 1908

MAKING SOAP

BABY CLOTHES

MY WEDDING DAY

COSTUME TO FIT THE TIME

CHILDREN DRESS-UP

MY ARTISTIC ENDEAVORS

SURPRISE BIRTHDAYS

ON THE KITCHEN RANGE

NEW YEAR’S EVE

RUNNING AWAY

MISBEHAVING

SCHOOL DAYS

THE FLU

LONG COLD WINTER

S.O.G.P.W.A.P.I.T.P.B

SPRING CLEANING

MAY DAY

COWS

TRICK OR TREATERS

FLOODS

CAMPING TRIPS

NEW YEAR WATCH PARTY

CAMPBELL HOT SPRINGS

OLD RECORDS

PREPARING THE FEAST

TRAINS

THE OLD REGISTER

PRANKS

FOOTWEAR

FOG

FASHIONS

BAY AREA VISIT

BUTTONS AND COLLARS

HOSIERY

CHRISTMAS PRESENT 1909

FANS

NEEDLEWORK

BORROWED CLASSICS

CHURCH BAZAAR

POEMS

OLD TIME SAYINGS

COMIC STRIPS

WASHING

EASTER PREPARATIONS

IN THE GOOD OLD SUMMER TIME

SUMMERTIME

TRANSPORTATION

REUNION

BABY BUGGIES

GARTERS, SUSPENDERS, SAILOR SUITS, AND THUMB SUCKING

HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

SUBSISTING

IN THE KITCHEN

AUTOMOBILES

BERRYING

RARE SNOWFALL AND BURROS

COVERED BRIDGES

WORLD FAIRS

PRESERVING FOOD

CAMPING VACATION

YESTERDAYS HATS

MAKING HAY

HOME REMEDIES

COUNTRY HOTEL

FAMOUS VISITORS

PORCHES

CREATIVE COOKING

SCHOOL DAYS

FAVORITE FOODS

THANKSGIVING FEAST

VALENTINE’S DAY

MAKING UP

COSTUMING

WATER SAVER

SWIM WEAR

ROCKING THE BOAT

LITTLE HOUSE IN THE BACK YARD

THE DING DONG LADY

SPECTACLES

GIZZARD STEW

HOME TOWN

BEES AND HONEY

STUFF AROUND THE HOUSE

INDEPENDENCE DAY

WINDMILLS

TEACHERS

WASH YOUR HEAD

SITTING IN THE PARLOR

WATER UNDER THE BRIDGE

NOTHING TO PLAY WITH

FOURTH IN A SURREY

DANCE ALL NIGHT

RADIO

WWI

GENERAL STORE

EASTER PARTY

THE PIANO

DANCING

CHURCH

TENT SHOWS

WILLIE

FOOD PROCESSING

ANIMAL ENCOUNTERS

RECIPES

HOUSEHOLD CLEANSERS

PLANTINGS

THE OLD SONGS

IN THE COOLER

PROGRESS !

ROLE MODEL

REDWOODS

DAM CONSTRUCTION

HAIR STYLES

COOKING HINTS

VISITING BACK HOME

TRAVELS WITH RUTH

VIRGINIA HISTORIC TOUR

FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS

NATHAN STANSBERRY

14 Scotland Point Road

York, ME. 03909

October 14, 1999

The following materials are part of a collection produced by my mother, Ruth Vivian (Greathouse) Orzalli, while writing a Bi- Weekly I REMEMBER Column for the Sierra Booster, a Bi-Weekly Newspaper published by Hal Wright in Loyalton California. Hal Wright gave me permission in 1994 to publish any of these columns. He was 91 at the time.

Ruth wrote the columns starting in October 1965 for a period of about 18 years. I believe I have copies of most of the 200 or so columns she wrote. They are all on newspaper clippings she collected. These clippings are quite yellowed from age and the format makes interpretation difficult in some cases. I have tried my best to avoid changing her style. Ruth only went to school though the eighth grade, so was self taught in her writing I talked to her by phone several times from 1991 to 1995 to clear up questions. Most of the questions were generated by typographic errors introduced by the Sierra Booster during the publishing process. She had never been given a chance to proof the typeset of her work before publishing, but always seemed aware of the errors when I asked. Ruth died on July 7, 1995. and amazingly, still remembered details about these columns during my last telephone conversation with her that month.

I have also included a copy of a biography that Ruth wrote for Nathan Stansberry, her grandfather. This biography will help the reader identify the relatives she wrote about in her columns. Ruth’s original work on this biography served as a basis for a California historical article in the Sacramento Bee, a newspaper published in Sacramento California. In 1990, she gave me both a typed and handwritten draft of her work. I have added some comments so that it now contains a history of Ruth’s family through to her death.

John Benton Orzalli

(Identified later as Number Two Son)

REMEDY OF CHOICE

A bottle of Asafetida tablets on display in the doctors’ waiting room sent me roaming down memory lane. No one there could remember just what aliment they were used for except maybe, as The Mister suggested, to keep people at a distance. I know I never took them internally, but did wear a Chunk in a Bull Durham tobacco sack hanging around my neck. All the children in our school wore the same type of necklace in winter so no one minded. Perhaps it got to the teacher, but she never complained - at least in school… What a change in remedies has taken place in the 70 years I can clearly remember. Most noticeable in a pharmacy, according to advertisements, each product Is the best. With all the displays it really is difficult to make a choice… I often wonder how young mothers of today would manage with a few and simple aids. I remember… Castile soap for the bath, followed by a rub with Sweet Oil kept baby’s skin smooth as satin. In case of diaper rash it was soothed and healed with corn starch or scorched flour. The same treatment was used for other baby rashes around the neck and underarm… The chest was rubbed with Camphorated Oil for a cold - Sweet oil warmed in a spoon over the lamp flame or a lighted match soothed an aching ear. The old standby for constipation was Castoria and a weak solution of boric acid cleaned the eyes… Some mothers gave their babies Soothing Syrup (main ingredient laudanum). Mama never did that but she did give Paregoric tea for colic, which also induced sleep… A sister-in-law said a midwife gave her a strip of bacon dipped in whiskey to suck on, when she wouldn’t take her mother’s breast. No bad results that I noted. She was a bit plump but very, very pretty… I never heard of anyone else trying the bacon and whiskey bit but many a wee one I saw sucking away on a Sugar teat. To those who don’t Dig sugar teat, ask your grandma to explain.

COUNTRY DOCTOR

Early this week I received a note from a cousin who resides in Humboldt County (California) enclosed was a post card addressed to me, postmark dated Nov. 8, 1918, Newport News, Va., Stewart Branch. It read, Dear Niece - I received your letter a few days ago that Merrill was sick but I received a letter from Carrie saying he was all right, but you had not heard from Phil. I think he will be home pretty soon. Love to all, G. S. (George Stansberry) Camp Stewart, Newport News, Virginia… the card is from an Uncle - Cousin Babe wrote she has no idea how it happened to be among her belongings… Uncle George was in Headquarters Company, 12th Infantry, U.S. Army. Phil (Older Brother) had also been in 12th Infantry until being shipped to Siberia in the spring of 1918… Uncle George did come home soon but Phil was on the high seas on his way home one year from the postcard date… The only thing I remember Uncle George telling us about his stay at Camp Stewart was loading a ship with bales of cotton. How come soldiers were doing the job, I was too young to care to ask. Perhaps the dock workers were on strike… Merrill (Little Brother) mentioned, had indeed been very ill with pneumonia. I remember old doctor Van Male coming, in his model T Ford, and staying all night. He and Mama soaking woolen squares of material in hot turpentine and lard to poultice Little Brother’s chest and back. I also remember how we all rejoiced when his fever broke. The labored breathing became even and when he coughed it was not the strained and hacking we had heard for near 24 hours… I said. Old doctor Van Male - I doubt he was past fifty, but he did have a bald pate, wore loose, shabby clothes and smelled strongly of tobacco. I never saw him smoke so it must have been he either chewed or dipped snuff. Everyone miles around depended on Doc Van Male. He was a native of Holland and how he came to be in a Spot in the road like Challenge, I have often wondered in later years. Only three things I clearly remember of him, helping him in the birth of a child, his second wife having chickens roosting in the kitchen and his grandson sometimes riding with our Number Two Son on their way to and from the University of Colorado".

THANKSGIVING IN 1920

Recently, while peeling squash for cooking to make pies, I was thinking, How silly to peel, cook and sieve squash, when a can of pumpkin, all processed is on the store room shelf, when Out of nowhere I remembered Thanksgiving of 1920. …That was one to remember - we roasted the largest bird of all my years cooking. I am confused as to the correct weight, but do know it was somewhere between 28-32 pounds… Usually, by November there were only Family at the saw mill - Mother-in-Law, Father-in-Law, Brother-In-Law, his wife and two children, yours truly and my husband (yes, we all lived in one house), but this year additions were Older Brother and Mother-In-Law’s two nephews… No roaster could hold that turkey so after stuffing, Mr. Tom was settled in a summer Biscuit pan measuring at least 16 x 16. While roasting in the cool oven, he was basted every half hour with butter and pan drippings. When taken from the oven he was really beautiful to behold… Winter time we ate in the kitchen but at 12 noon, November 28,1920 we all sat at one of the long tables in the Boarding House dinning room. The tables and benches there were not the usual boarding house rough, thrown together furniture, but quite neat. Father-in-Law was a fine cabinet maker. I often remind Number One Son his grandfather was the builder of the old Mission San Jose Catholic Church altar. I read recently another church had been built in the locality so suppose the other stands beside the ruins of the Spanish Adobe Mission as another historical landmark… Back to the dinner - we womenfolk were up before 4 a.m. - Mother-in-Law to make a batch of her delicious potato yeast bread - and get the turkey in the oven. (A no-no now, it had been stuffed the evening before). Sister-in-Law and I had tasks too numerous to mention, but right on time we loaded the table with platters of turkey dressing, mashed potatoes, gravy, baked hubbard squash, canned tomatoes (hot with sugar and bread cubes) blood sausage (in a special dish), creamed carrots, cranberry relish, hot bread, pickles and jelly, topped off with pumpkin and raisin pie… After dinner, plates were cleared away, and all snack food assembled at one end of the table. By bed time not much remained but turkey carcass for next day’s soup stock… Strange I remember that day and dinner so clearly when in spite of shoving wood into the fire box of the huge double oven stove, for near eight years, I can’t remember from whence it came… I can’t remember there being a handyman that either cut or carried in wood. I suppose it was cut into stove lengths on a box factory machine at the mill, but how it got to the kitchen is an unanswered question. I know of no one around, who was there then, who could tell me - So unless I have another memory flash the Gathering of the fuel" will forever remain a mystery..

GYPSY LIFE

The Mister and I celebrated our 45th wedding anniversary by taking a trip to Fallon Nevada. As we drove along the highway (at the lawful speed) cars with trailers behind and numerous types of campers topping pickup trucks, whipped by. Seen also were acres of mobile homes. It would take master mathematicians to figure just how many acres are covered by these homes with wheels…I thought -How different than when I was a child. Then only sheepherder and Gypsies lived or traveled in a house on wheels’…I often remark I wouldn’t be interested in a mobile home. The Mister and Little Brother answered with, That’s no wonder, it would take two - one to live in and one to hold your quilt pieces and other hobbies materials. Well, I do get rather disgusted with myself for getting so involved with my hobbies but guess - like the young people say I’m just doing my thing…I remember seeing the Gypsy wagons that made up a camp in Great-grandma’s field. We children were fascinated with the Gypsy mode of life - clothing, food, dancing, music and so on, of course we were warned to view them from afar - they might steal us. It was several years before I figured out doubtless we needed have no fears on that account, who would want to steal children of parents whose finances were no greater than that of the Gypsy group - and maybe less…Mama told us she too, when she was small, was fascinated by the Gypsies and made up dreams of being stolen by them, or traveling afar and finally being sold to childless rich people who lavished her with every luxury. I doubt her dreams of luxury were extremely lavish, until she was fourteen and Grandpa moved to Eureka, her only glimpse of the finer things of life were via a catalog. Purchases for daily living were at a country store or from the peddler wagon… but I suppose to someone who had to carry water a long distance from a spring, not only for regular use but to do laundry for a family of nine, plus hired help, to be able to turn on a tap and get running water would be considered a luxury… Not that grandpa was a poor man - in fact he was considered a prosperous farmer - But in those days money wasn’t spent (by many) on anything so foolish as piping water, even to a stand by the back door - especially when there were seven children to do the job of water carrying…I remember seeing the Gypsies cooking their one dish meals in a black kettle hung on a tripod over the open fire. Mama said there were never any meals cooked in that manner at her home but on wash day she and her Brothers carried water to fill a huge black kettle hung over an outside fire. Tubs were put on benches and all the washing was done outside in summer… I think Gypsy food and that eaten by Mama and her sister and Brothers differed only that theirs was cooked in separate pots for each meal whereas in the Gypsy camps all went into the one black kettle…Like the Gypsies, Mama and her friends lustily sang songs, but they never had the wild Rumanian rhythm of those sung by the Gypsies and even tho’ their quadrilles and polkas were quite brisk, they could compete in no way with the wild abandon of the Gypsy dancing…Mama often said regardless of race, background or surroundings, people were much alike in their ways and like and dislikes. My observing thru the years have led me to believe she was right. As Kipling wrote, ‘The Colonel’s lady and Rosie O’Grady, are sisters under the skin’… if Mama were here now she surely wouldn’t recognize a Gypsy if she saw one - and neither can I.

GOOD OLD SUMMER TIME

Highlight, to me, of the recent Plumas-Sierra Rural Electric Cooperative dinner was the performance of the Reno Banjo Band, especially audience participation. It brought to mind earlier times when everyone joined the fun of sing-alongs. Remember Watch the bouncing ball?. One song in particular, In The Good Old Summer Time took me back many, many years to the summer I was four. Papa bought a new harmonica - not the usual ten cent model - but a Tremold Concert (my old catalog lists them at 65 cents)…Papa was an unusually fine harmonica player (and whistler) so all summer long neighbors gathered almost every evening to hear him play and whistle, and to sing along with Mama - In The Good Old Summer Time, After The Ball, Over The Waves, Only A Bird In A Gilded Cage, School Days, Sidewalks Of New York, Sweet Rosie O’Grady - and many more. Songs that are still familiar, in fact, youngest grand daughter has a book of them she plays on her mini-organ… I took a few turns at the instrument (when no one was around). That too, brought back memories of practice on my tall, black walnut organ, and playing for Sunday school classes and church services - all pleasant memories… Mama loved to sing.

Shortly before her death I heard her singing The Old Rugged Cross, not in the strong contralto of her youth, but still sweet and harmonious… Not long ago I read, or saw on TV, that band concerts were being held in some city squares. It made me happy that the trend might be in the direction of such wholesome entertainment…I remember how lovely it was to sit in the park and listen to the strains of the local band playing waltzes, two steps and Sousa’s marches. The program always either beginning or closing With The Star Spangled Banner… The Mister laughs at me when I won’t turn to look at a certain courthouse in a nearby county. I remember the bandstand there and listening to the band music on hot summer nights… I can’t abide the thought of that ugly, modern building being built on the site that was willed to the City - To be used for all time as a city park. In some way that portion of the will was set aside which reminds me of some of Papa’s words of wisdom—if someone is clever enough he will find a way to twist the law to his way of thinking… Of course this statement really has nothing to do with the good old summer time theme. In a way, but it will do for the closing of this I remember… p.s. turned on TV - saw and heard Sail In Concert on Folsom lake - good listening.

WATCHES

Recently I was given an unexpected gift. Seems Aunt Lotus had heard me say I couldn’t wear my wrist watch because the pressure made my hand go numb. Being the dear person she is, she bought for me a lovely little watch and neck chain… Seeing it I remembered a watch Aunt Carrie wore when I was very young. She pinned it on the left side of her shirtwaist or dress with a small gold platted fastener in the shape of a bow. She wouldn’t have been in complete attire without the added accessory… Some ladies wore watches on chains then - but still pinned them on their waist or dress. Some had family member pictures on the inside of the case cover. The younger ones may have let them hang - I can’t remember - But I do remember the vest pocket watches worn by the men with a chain that fastened on one end to the watch. In the opposite pocket was either a pen knife (for cleaning the finger nails) or an ivory toothpick. In the center of said chain was the watch charm, often depicting a lodge emblem…I remember seeing the men taking a watch from their pocket and snapping it open to check the time. Watch fobs were also the thing, way back then - Fancy ones of silk faille, with slide or charm. Others plain or braided. Sometimes, the latter of hair, for work, fobs of leather were the usual - for durability, no doubt…I gave Number One Son my step-father’s railroad type. They were quite close, I thought it would please him and it did. It is displayed in a glass dome on the fireplace mantel… Number Two Son inherited a watch of the same type which had belonged to his paternal great-grandfather. It also is on display under a glass dome… The Mister’s silver Waltham watch is one of the conversation pieces on our mantel - A present from a cousin via Little Brother… Papa always carried a thin open faced silver watch in his trouser watch pocket. The Mister had one of gold. He carried it for several years until I put it thru the laundry too many times - now it’s an heirloom in the strong box. We never knew what became of Papa’s watch. All that was sent to Mama, of his belongings, were his knife and the pack of Bull Durham he was holding in his hand when killed. Who of the old timers doesn’t remember the Dollar Watch (Ingersoll)? With the trend toward ruffle trimmed shirts, bold colors and designs, in coats and trousers and yes, vests, I think vest pocket watches with chain and charm would be very attractive. Even more so if the gentleman were sporting heavy side-burns and a neat mustache…As Mama and Grandma would have said, they would be Cutting quite a caper. Now is it Far out - or is that passé?

ELECTION BOARD

After casting my vote and chatting with members of the election board last week, I came home to ponder on my experiences at elections thru the years… I began serving as soon as I reached 21, it being a small community there weren’t too many who wanted the job of sitting all day and far into the night. I remember the voting polls were the I.O.O.F. Hall - Can’t remember the names of any of the others, but do remember one was a man and heard it said many times he had been inspector since he was 21, and I know he stayed on the job until he died at 78…Several years later I moved to Nevada City and as it was too late to change registration I drove back to Oregon hill (over the old Bullards Bar Road) to serve on the election board. Other than board members, votes cast were four… Voting hours then, I think, were sun up ‘til sun down - or maybe I am confusing the time with farm workers. Altho’ I do believe that was dawn ‘til dark, anyway, I am sure the pay was six dollars… Again I might be mistaken, but think then, the entire ballot was disqualified if even only one mark was erroneous… In Sutter County I served at three precincts - The Church at O‘Banion Corners, which was destroyed by the flood of 1955; Franklin Corners Church, built by a community literary group. Now being used for a chicken house (which I resent - having worked my fingers to the bone, literally speaking, to help put it back to its former glory after years of abuse). Finally, the Native Daughters Hall, Sutter, at the foot of Sutter Buttes, world’s smallest complete range of mountains… Memories are dim on previous elections, but Sutter, being more recent, holds numerous recollections such as the sweet old lady who always asked for my assistance when voting. I knew no other members of her family then, but fifteen years ago (almost) her granddaughter became my daughter-in-law… Once a man threatened to fight the entire board - we wouldn’t permit him to vote. How could we - his name wasn’t on the register. He was finally persuaded to take his complaint to the County Clerk. Never knew the outcome… The inspector was a heavy coffee drinker, so it was stop for coffee every fifteen or twenty minutes. When I took her place, not being a Coffee mouth, as my German friend Anna says, coffee breaks came ten minutes at the end of the hour, cruel? Maybe, but it sure cut down the tally time at the end of the day… One dear lady had the habit of falling asleep. There were so many complaints I had to speak to the County clerk. I hope the lady never knew it was I who had her dismissed. She was a friend and fellow church member… In my latter years there, election day was meeting date for the Masonic Lodge. They served us a hot dinner, a welcome change from cold food carried thence in a dinner pail or paper bag. Also, my last two times on that board, an extra crew came in at closing time to assist with vote tally. No more getting home by dawn‘s early light, after delivering returns to the County Clerk‘s office. One such time, I was getting home just as The Mister was leaving for work. Several times when I was going home from the all night counting in November, even tho‘ the car was unheated, I opened the window so the cold air would help me keep awake… Service was short in Sierra County, fine with me. Tho‘t my days (and nights) of election work were over when I left Sutter (if I thought of them at all) but did enjoy being introduced to pleasant folk and a delicious frozen turkey dish eaten with the Sierraville Board… I can remember twelve Presidents, can’t claim the honor of counting votes for all of them. At my age can’t help wondering how many more. In all my years of election experiences I will have to say I never served at a school election. Shame on me, I had to be shown every time the proper way to display the flag outside the polling place - and I always felt silly - Calling out to an empty street, Hear ye, hear ye, the polls are now open.

THINGS LOVED

A song heard frequently is all about Things loved - which set me thinking along the same lines. As usual, when getting up in years, our youth is clearest in our memories… Being grandma’s favorite reference to me was That child will never live to grow up - she eats too much, perhaps I’d best start with food… I know like is the proper word for other than people, but I sure loved Uncle George’s pie crust apple dumplings and tapioca pudding, Mama’s stewed chicken and drop dumplings, kernels of partly popped corn, ground and eaten with creamy milk and sugar, and snow ice cream (snow, cream and sugar with a dash of vanilla)… Others I loved were beef tea (when I was feeling puny), Great Grandmother’s hot bread, spread with freshly churned butter, lettuce leaves and tomatoes sprinkled with sugar, Yerba Buena tea, huckleberry dumplings and slices of raw potatoes Papa fried on top of the stove lids… Oh, there were many other things I loved like racing with Papa. I tho’t he let me win. Now I know Old Baldy in his twenties, was no match for frisky, young Dolly when it came to a gallop… I loved Papa to stand at the foot of the stairs telling the Brothers and me jokes, and when he was away, Mama’s stories - make believe and real life ... especially we loved those of when she was young which really wasn’t far in the past. When I was seven, she was only twenty-nine… when older I loved sitting on a log along the river bank fishing for trout and, in the spring, hunting in the woods for the first lady slippers, madonna and tiger lilies and trillium, and planting my fairy garden… I loved rushing home from school to have supper ready by the time Mama came home from work… Have a scar on one of my fingers by such rushing. Tried to cut kindling with a butcher knife. The knife missed the block of wood and sliced my finger - but I sprinkled sugar in the wound, applied a bandage and had a cake baked and frosted to surprise Mama… I always loved the ocean - walking barefoot on the beach or standing to let the waves pull the sand from beneath my feet. I still love the ocean but now I only do a bit of feet splashing and sitting with my back against a log or rock remembering when I hunted for starfish, anemones, periwinkle shells or, north of Eureka, moonstones and bits of amber… I loved teaching Sunday school classes, vacation bible school and young people groups, pinning awards on boy scouts when their parents were not in attendance, taking part in programs and attending State Board P.T.A. meetings and conventions… I loved riding on trains and coastal trips by steamship… Many, many, other things I now find too difficult but I can still love walking under the trees on Randolph Hill, tending my house plants and watching the changing views of Sierra Valley from our kitchen window… I still love to hear the tea kettle singing, and sitting in my easy chair, plying needle or hook, making Pretties for family and friends. When all the things I have planned are completed, just maybe, I’ll go back to an earlier love - reading. A promise I make myself every spring and fall.

VISIT WITH LITTLE BROTHER

Reminiscing with Little Brother during his recent, lengthy visit brought back memories by the score… First, to send us on a trip down memory lane was the mention of a quotation we heard from Mama and Grandma when some one was slow in Getting the point, Pshaw, they don’t know b– from bull’s foot. Guess we weren’t so smart either. Neither of us got the connection between a bee and a bull’s foot for many years… Brother also remembered a place we lived that Mama always called the Maderone Ranch. We children corrected her repeatedly, but no matter - she never said Madrone… he also recalled he and Mama, one dark night, walking along the road - Mama carrying a lantern in one hand, and long stick in the other, waving it to and fro in front of her in case a rattle snake might be crawling in the dust… that lantern I remembered well - home made, a large coffee can with a square cut out of one side, a hole in the bottom and a wire bail - a small candle fitted in the hold, gave only a feeble light. But comforting nevertheless on a dark night… I remember when Number One Son was very young, my step-father made such a lantern for him from a baking powder can. Son, altho’ leery of the dark was very brave when he could carry his little lantern… Little Brother remembered Mama taking him to the river to fish with his hazel bush rod, twine line and bent pin hook. He said he liked turning over rocks hunting for hellgrammites much better than fishing. Mama always took along a book or pencil and paper, the latter to jot down ideas for newspaper fillers… like today’s instant poets and song writers she could come forth with a story or rhyme at a moment’s notice and no matter how tired she might be she never refused to tell us a story… Little Brother spoke of seeing Papa cleaning excess fat from animal skins, with a drawing knife, after they were pulled over a stretching board. That I haven’t thought of for several years… he also recalled the time the ram chased him up a small peach tree and how he tried over and over to climb it again but never could… he remembered how he would beg me to read to him, when I was forbidden because of eye trouble, then as he put it breaking his neck to tell on me. I really was a tattle tale, wasn’t I, he said… I showed him a poem sent from Anaheim by a Sierra Booster reader because I wrote in one I Remember I could remember only the first few lines. He added the ending we learned, when they were crossing a little brook - a lily white duck came and gobbled them up - and that was the end of one, two, three - the rat, the mouse and little Froggee. All of a sudden I remembered - off he set with his opera hat - and on the way he met a rat. Pray, me. rat will you go with me - kind Miss. mousie for to see - blank - when they arrived at mousie Hall - he gave a loud knock and gave a loud call - pray Miss. mouse are you within - yes, kind sir and sitting to spin. More blank. Perhaps some time thanks to the help of the Anaheim reader or others, I may have the complete song (poem)… Brother is much younger than I but there were many things he remembered I had long forgotten. It was really nice being with him to remember".

THE LEDGER

This week I had the Mister get down an old book from a closet shelf - Hadn’t thought of it for several years. It was first a country store and hotel ledger, then Aunt Carrie filled blank pages with her diary… Mama took over, pasting clippings of many items, mostly recipes. It was from this book I took my first cooking lessons, beginning at age eight… First dates of the ledger are June 1858. Last diary entry, Aug 12,1891. No way to determine Mama’s first entry but I found many items of interest. Hopefully readers of I Remember may agree. Will pass on a few… June 29.1858 G. Harris - one night and team $1.00.. b. Sears, dinner 50 cents.. g. Toby feed for pack train, $6.00.. e. Davis, dinner and horse feed 75 cents… store columns - Oct. 1858 - boys shoes $1.25..butter 20 cents lb.. one-half bushel beans $1.25.. 20 lb. Potatoes 60 cents.. 25 lb. Oats 42 cents… closing accounts for year - Nathan Stansberry $515.65, (my grandfather). Such prices are hardly conceivable in this day and age… diary entry - . 11,1890 - clear today. Papa ploughed… Feb. 14,1891 - snowed today. Pa commenced feeding the cattle… Sept. 8, 1891 Mrs. Bosworth visited (Mrs. Bosworth was the midwife with Mama when I was born)… Sept. 11,1891 Grandma Rowland came (my favorite grandmother)… the location of these happenings was between Bridgeville and Blocksburg, Humboldt County, California. Snow very unusual (then) in that area…One of the first recipes is in Mama’s handwriting - boiled dressing, I still make it - one tablespoon each sugar, mustard, oil or butter, stir until smooth, pinch of salt in 3 eggs add to above. Add one half cup vinegar, 1 cup milk, cook in double boiler to smooth paste, stirring constantly. Keeps to two weeks… Kentucky ash cake - mix a small amount of cornmeal in either water or milk, a pinch of salt. Open a hole in a hot bank of ashes in the fireplace. Place the naked dough therein - cover, bake 30 min. You will have as sweet a piece of cornbread a palate could desire. The ashes can be easily brushed off. (I hope so)…three weeks vinegar - one-half cup full brown sugar, one qt. Water, boil until sugar is dissolved. Add 1 gallon rain water. Put in two gallon jar. Toast three or four slices of bread to golden brown, spread with one cake compressed yeast. Place on surface if water, cover with clean cloth, put in warm place. In three weeks you will have good vinegar. (Sounds to me like hootch)…

MAKING THE BED

An old saying - The kitchen is the woman’s domain wasn’t so as I remember our sawmill. Most summers a man cook Ruled the roost. We couldn’t make a sandwich without his permission. Even I, who made all the cakes and pies, wouldn’t have cut a slice of either between meals… In winter it was even worse - the men used the kitchen for a club room. If we wanted to put wood in the stove they had to be shooed off their wood box perch. We had to ask them to move themselves and cards from the table so it could be set for meals, the long sink was cluttered all day with empty stained coffee cups, the sugar bowl constantly needed filling - Seemed the can of milk and cookie jar were always empty. For sure the kitchen was not the woman’s domain - But the bedroom - now that was a different story - not a man in the family would have dared lay a finger on a honey comb counterpane or lift a pillow sham, nor would he have considered using one article of the toilet set that held the place of honor on the commode (toilet set stand)… Yes, the bedrooms were ours, and each woman in the house spoke of them as such… Daily the beds were stripped to the mattress which was turned (weekly the springs were gone over with a feather duster), each sheet, blanket and comforter was put back in place and smoothed without a wrinkle, the white counterpane laid over all, exactly centered, then pillows plumped, set against the scrolled, wrought iron headboard and covered with stiffly starched, embroidered pillow shams… I often stood back, looked at the bed and tho’t How beautiful. Even then when iron bedsteads were Just bedsteads not conversation pieces, I loved them - so lovely- white with shiny brass trim… Only one room had a brass bedstead -just tubular, not spectacular like the thousand dollar one I saw recently on TV. But that room, like the others, had a bureau and commode with its toilet set and I don’t have to search my memory to picture one like it - Large flowered bowl, hot water pitcher, small pitcher for drinking water, soap dish, hair receiver, brush vase and mug - I can climb my stairs, turn into the bedroom on the right and there it is ... Hasn’t been used for more than twenty years, I know. To put water in any of the containers would be sacrilege… The set is complete right down to the setting - a commode with splasher back, high swinging looking glass, towel bar with pink edged towel (which nobody better use). The commode was originally purchased for the boarding school at Notre Dame Convent in Marysville near a hundred years ago, is my guess. The boarding house part was being phased out when I