Forever a Farmer

By Donna Gene Stankey and Ramona Hammel

Ralph was finally back on the farm that he so missed. However, after graduation from High School, he decided to go to Cleary College, in Ypsilanti, MI. There he studied accounting. Trouble was accounting jobs were in the cities. So, Ralph decided to help his Pa on the farm instead.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Hunter Reid
• Release date: Oct 17, 2022
• ISBN: 9781958920107

Donna Gene Stankey

Donna Gene and her daughter, Ramona, both grew up on their parent's family farms. Both had moved to large cities for a time, butwere glad to get back to farm life. Their love for this wholesome life style is what prompted them to write and publish these stories about the Setterington family. Donna has since passed away. Ramona lives on her husband's family farm outside of Hudson, Michigan.

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FOREVER A FARMER

Written by: Donna Gene Stankey

Co-Authored by: Ramona Hammel

INTRODUCTION

Forever a Farmer is the last manuscript I have written depicting my Dad’s life. The last year is 1922, which is only four years before I was born. This was the most difficult to write because there were so many details I didn’t know.

I sure thought my Dad had an interesting life. I’m glad I could write these three manuscripts so others can know about our family, both Setteringtons and Brewbakers. I have endeavored to depict farm life as it was before such large scale operations, with all the present day equipment and computer technology, insecticides, and weed killers. Since I was such a tomboy, I always wanted to relate events in great detail. I wonder what Millie and my Dad would think of farming as it is done today.

In the Epilogue, I have included some facts about my relationship with Aunt Balance and Uncle George. They were a large part in my getting to know my grandparents and great-grandparents. They were a very important part of my life growing up.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENT

A very big thank you to Mary Williams, Senior Author Advisor, who stuck with me through tears and laughter and many hours of phone conversations and emails. I couldn’t have done it without her.

Also thanks to Mark De Villar for the amazing cover designs.

DEDICATION

This is dedicated to my friends and family who grew up on a farm. And to all those who love American History, especially those who love life on the farm.

CHAPTER 1

The sun shone brightly drying the results of last night’s heavy dew which had sparkled from every tree branch, each bush, and the grass along the roadside and fields. Ralph gave Pearl her head and she trotted along at a good clip. The fluid movements of the horse filled him with pride. Pearl was not only good-looking. Her bay coat was sleek and shiny. She was fast and this was a distinct advantage for a boy just past sixteen.

Ralph was on his way to Elsie to school. Thus far, he hadn’t minded having to drive the three and one-half miles each morning and afternoon. They had moved back to the farm in March and Ralph was glad they had made the move. It wasn’t that he’d been unhappy living in the town but it was simply that he liked the farm best. Pa had bought more cows and had said he figured they should raise a few more hogs. They already had a suitable flock of sheep. If they increased their herd of cattle some more, they would quite likely need someplace to pasture the sheep come summer. Sheep eat the grass extremely close to the ground and they leave nothing for cows or horses in a pasture of normal size.

Ralph crossed the iron bridge over Maple River where the gristmill stood. As he started up the gristmill hill, he saw Miss Kate Finch turn east from River Road to head toward Elsie. Kate was the seventh and eighth-grade teacher. Ralph had to repeat the seventh grade, because he missed too much school, due to a severe leg injury. So he ended up having Miss Finch as his teacher for three years. She was by far his favorite teacher.

When Kate recognized what rig was coming up the hill, she touched her buckskin with her whip and the horse broke into a run.

Kate chuckled to herself. Pearl hated having any horse ahead of her, so she tried to increase her speed. Ralph held her back until they were a few lengths beyond where the River Road met the main road. Ralph then released the pressure on the lines. Pearl responded instantly. She rapidly closed the gap between Kate’s buggy and theirs.

Kate looked back and saw that Ralph was gaining on her. She stood up in the buggy. She then used her whip on her poor buckskin, and in a most undignified manner, yelled encouragement for him to move faster. Wisps of hair loosened and flew around her face but she paid no attention. Her main focus was on her horse hoping she’d reach the village limits before that young rapscallion overtook her.

Ralph and Pearl continued to gain. Then, Pearl turned out to pass. Ralph held her in check to keep abreast of Kate for a few moments.

Gosh, Kate, is that all the faster that nag of yours can move? Guess you didn’t have enough of a head start. He flashed her an irritating grin but missed her reply because they were almost to the village limits. He let Pearl pass then slowed her to a fast walk. Kate had done the same thing.

About once or twice each week, these two went through this same process. Kate realized she could never win but she didn’t readily admit the fact even to herself. Ralph respected her all the more because she always tried. When he was away from school, he always called her Kate but in and around school he respectfully referred to her as Miss Finch.

He didn’t know how old she was (she was born in 1864), but it seemed as though she’d been teaching forever. She’d had Blanche in class and Blanche said there were those much older than she who’d been in Kate’s room. Golly, maybe she was near the age of his parents. Anyway, he figured she was getting on in years--of course, anyone past thirty was getting on in years in his estimation.

For her age she sure had a lot of gumption. Ma never wanted a horse to trot for more than a short distance let alone run. Ralph laughed to himself as he thought of the vast difference between his mother and Kate. No way would his mother stand up in a moving buggy to urge her horse to go faster. He could not envision his mother using a whip on an animal either. He was just glad he drove a horse that was fast enough to beat Kate’s buckskin. He thought Pearl had the advantage of being younger than Kate’s horse, but neither he nor Kate had ever spoken of this. At least that poor buckskin had a lot of spunk because he sure gave everything, he had to try to beat Pearl. Guess that horse and Kate made a good pair.

Ralph considered Kate the best teacher he’d ever had. He’d never got away with much in her classroom but she’d never held it against him because he tried. He had given thought to letting her win a race just once but he knew Kate would see through such a ploy, and she’d not appreciate it. She’d like to beat him that much was certain but she wanted the race to be on the up and up. She had once said her head start was his handicap which had made him laugh.

Fleetingly, Rate wondered why Kate had never married. He didn’t recollect hearing her name connected with any men, so he sort of thought she had never even had a beau. Guess maybe she was too independent and didn’t need some man to take care of her. She lived on the farm her parents had settled on. He thought he’d heard they had come from Ohio. Maybe she had felt duty-bound to take care of aging parents. Anyway, even though she was an old maid, he’d never heard anyone make fun of her like they did some others. People often chuckled about Mildred Chamberlin since she and Elzie Call had split up. They often made unkind comments regarding Miriam Downey who they said never dated anyone and just seemed to enjoy working for Mr. Ferguson that also took care of her folks.

* * * * * * * * * *

Since her father’s death, Miney’s niece, Hattie Sickels had written to Miney quite regularly. It seemed that her sister, Mary, wrote less often. Reading between the lines of Hattie’s letters, Miney feared that Mary’s health was deteriorating. Miney and Lorin had spoken of this and Lorin had the same feeling. Yet, Mary’s letters gave no hint that anything might be amiss but that was to be expected. Mary was like their mother and was not one to complain. Miney could not help being concerned. She wished Mary still lived in Elsie where she could see her often. Certainly, was a shame that families had to be separated. She wondered if Mary ever missed her and Lorin.

Since they had moved back to the farm, Ralph no longer went to Sunday School. Most of the time he even missed church. Miney had tried to assert her authority but Millie had intervened. He had said, Since Rate’s sixteen, he’s old enough to make up his own mind ‘bout goin’ to church. Miney knew there was no use to argue. When Millie had that tone to his voice nothing, she said would make him change his mind. She had certainly learned that much over the years.

Sometimes, Ralph drove his mother to church. Although he seldom dressed up to attend services with her. He was perfectly willing to do the driving. Blanche sometimes spent a Saturday night with a girl friend but if she was home, she accompanied her mother. At least Miney derived pleasure from this. She thought that if Millie had attended church regularly like her father and Father Setterington, Ralph would never have rebelled. She often asked Ralph to drive her because she always hoped Ralph would relent and attend services. She wondered if she had somehow done something wrong with his upbringing. She had always attended church regularly and had taken them as children. Ralph and Blanche both had attended Sunday School as well. While they lived in town, they both attended meetings which were held for the young people and had usually participated in the activities for this group. What could she have done differently? She had certainly tried her best.

It had rained Friday night and most of the day Saturday. However, on Sunday morning the sun broke through the few remaining clouds and the world was bright and cheery even though waterlogged in places. Water stood in the fields.

Rate had said he would drive Miney to church. Blanche had stayed over to Fern’s and would meet her mother at church. Rate sat in the buggy, rather impatiently waiting for his mother. As usual, she was running behind. Rate often wondered why it was that his mother was never ahead of time, seldom on time, always a few minutes late. He’d never delivered her late for church only because Pearl was fast and she could make up the time. He suspected that if Ma drove herself, she quite likely would have been late on more than one occasion since she always drove the safest, slowest horse.

Miney came out of the house in a rush, climbed into the carriage, and settled back in her seat. "I know I’m a trifle late but I think we can still be there in time for the beginning of services, don’t you?’’

I guess so, Rate answered since his mother seemed to expect a reply.

Rate had long ago trained Pearl to respond when he scuffed his foot on the floorboard by surging forward to run. He did this now and Pearl leaped forward. Rate had momentarily forgotten that there was a large puddle just where the driveway turned into the road. The buggy had only recently been newly painted, and Ralph did not want to get it splattered with mud.

He yelled, Whoa! Pearl stopped dead still.

Miney, who was not expecting such a sudden stop, had not been hanging on or even bracing herself. Rate watched in dismay as with a little scream, his mother sailed out of the buggy onto the front wheel then slid on down into the mudhole. Pearl stood patiently waiting for another command. Rate quickly fastened the lines and moved to help his mother.

Gosh, Ma, I’m sorry. I never thought this would happen. Are you hurt? Here, let me help you.

Miney was soaked with the muddy water. Her hands were covered with mud. Rate took her hand and helped her to her feet and propelled her off to the drier ground. Her good shoes squished with each step and mud clung to the sides of them.

Why did you stop Pearl? And why did she start off on a run? Must you always do something wrong?

I said I was sorry. I never intended this to happen. I just didn’t want to get the buggy splattered with mud.

"You just never intend anything. In your opinion keep the buggy clean but it doesn’t matter about your mother. I guess I had better get changed. You certainly made it impossible for me to go to church today. It’s a good thing Cap and Flo, Richard and I aren’t scheduled to provide special music until next Sunday.

Miney had a very nice soprano voice, but she also had been blessed with what was termed perfect pitch. She could look at a music note on a song page and sound that particular note which would coincide exactly with that note if struck on the piano. Not many people had this ability. Cap and Flo Rummel and Richard Fizzell had formed a quartet with Miney and they often provided special music for a Sunday church service.

Miney had gone a few steps further when she partially turned and said, I suppose you know that you still have to pick up Blanche after service?

Reckon so. Rate sounded somewhat resigned.

Miney flounced off to the house. She did look kinda funny and Ralph was tempted to laugh. However, his face looked completely innocent when his mother gave him one more disgruntled look just before she went up the steps to the porch.

Miney wasn’t angry she was just upset. Would the time ever come when Ralph didn’t cause some sort of trouble? She had thought by now he would be more responsible. Well, perhaps responsible wasn’t the proper word. Ralph did his work well and in that respect, he accepted responsibility well. It was just that all these unforeseen problems seemed to arise with a degree of regularity. She had thought that as he grew older incidents such as this would cease. My, it had certainly been a blessing that she had had Blanche. She felt she never could have coped with two like Ralph.

Millie looked up from the newspaper when Miney came into the dining room, banging the screen door behind her. She had already removed her shoes on the porch and carried them in her hand.

What happened? You look like something the cat drug in.

Miney explained. Was that a glimmer of laughter in Millie’s eyes? While he spoke placatingly, Miney had a suspicion that Millie thought the whole episode was funny. Men! The Setterington men certainly had a strange sense of humor.

Miney’s day was ruined. She’d have a time soaking the mud out of her dress and on Sunday too. She couldn’t leave it until wash day tomorrow or the mud would stain the dress. Of course, her petticoat, bloomers, and stockings were wet too. Later, she’d try to impress Millie that he should haul some gravel from the pit up on the Ridge Road so there could never be a recurrence of this disaster--for disaster was how Miney viewed the situation. She was just lucky she hadn’t broken some bone as she thought bitterly. She did have a tender spot on her side and she wondered if the spot would be black and blue come tomorrow, not that she expected anyone to care except perhaps her daughter.

Millie bought a couple more cows that were due to freshen in June. That brought their total to eight. They had room for a couple more but Millie decided he’d buy more hogs instead. He figured he and Rate could go out separately looking for feeder pigs. If they each bought eight or ten that would quite likely be as many as they could comfortably handle.

Millie and Rate left right after dinner. One headed north and the other headed south. However, Rate arrived back at the farm before his father.

He had six sleek white pigs. He felt quite satisfied with his purchase, and he wondered what kind of luck his father was having. He put the pigs in a pen and gave them feed and water.

It was much later when Millie returned. He had a total of fourteen pigs. When he asked Rate how much he’d paid for the six he bought, Rate told him and he burst out laughing. Boy, I think you got taken. I got these fourteen for the same amount. Thought you had more sense than that.

Rate said nothing. It smarted to have his father make fun of him but he’d be damned if he’d let Pa know. Besides, he thought his pigs were heavier and looked better. As he carefully scrutinized them, he thought Pa’s pigs looked more than a little scruffy--all fourteen of them. He was certain that he wouldn’t have purchased them even if they had been dirt cheap. So much for he and Pa thinking alike. Guess when it came time to take the pigs to market, they’d see who had made the best purchase. Course, even then, he’d not expect Pa to admit those fourteen had not been a sound buy.

Since Horatio had raised objections, Millie never played cards of any kind. He and Miney no longer went regularly to Grange meetings since the men played cards and even some of the women were learning to play. However, Millie thoroughly enjoyed a good game of checkers. Most often he played with Cash Waldron but since Rate was older they often played in the evening. Millie had to admit that Rate’s game was improving. Millie always won but it was getting much more difficult to beat the lad.

Rate and Millie sat hunched over the checkerboard held on their knees. Their chairs were drawn up by the north door of the dining room to get the fading evening light. Both had been quiet, intent on the game. Each had taken his time to make a carefully thought-out move. Millie moved a checker. Ralph coked up at his father, eyes alight, as he reached to make his next move. Millie realized he had made a blunder and Ralph was going to win. He knew from the glint in Rate’s eyes that the lad knew he had the game won. Millie spread his legs and let the checkerboard and checkers fall to the floor. Rate burst out laughing.

What’s the matter, Pa? Couldn’t stand the thought of losing?

Who said I was gonna lose?

I did. You know I had you beat all fair and square.

Can’t prove it one way or the other.

Only because you intentionally upset the board.

Why Rate you don’t think it was accidental?

No, and neither do you. Ralph laughed again while he started picking up checkers. Darn Pa anyway. Like Pa always said, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush. He should have known Pa would squirm out of losing somehow. At least Pa knew he was beaten even if he wouldn’t admit it. This thought gave Rate a certain degree of satisfaction.

The summer was passing quickly for Rate. He helped Millie with a lot of the farm work but he still had time for his friends and time to enjoy himself. He sometimes took Pearl swimming below the dam. In the shallow water, she’d lie down and roll. He often kicked off his shoes and went in the water with her. In the deeper water, if he hung onto her tail she’d pull him while she swam. That horse seemed to enjoy these moments as much as Rate did. During the summer, Rate wore no underclothes and he went in the water overalls and all. It was too near the road to swim in the raw. Besides, when the weather was hot, the cool water felt really good and he knew the overalls would be nearly dry by the time he reached home.

Rate and Curly Sherman had made plans for the Fourth of July. They decided they’d begin celebrating early by tossing dynamite, beginning one minute after midnight. They’d been able to get hold of two sticks of the explosive, some caps, and a length of fuse. Since each stick was about a foot long they could cut them in pieces one inch in length and have about twelve pieces each to throw. They had plenty of fuses and both had a pocketful of matches so they were well prepared. They figured this project could occupy them for a couple of hours if they waited for a little between each explosion.

The eve of the Fourth found both boys down on the river flats ready to begin. They kept track of the time, and Don threw the first piece as soon as his watch showed it was past midnight. They laughed at the resulting explosion.

Makes a dang good firecracker, don’t it Rate?

Sure does agreed Rate as he tossed one of his pieces.

Bet no one else has begun celebrating yet.

Curly, I think you are without a doubt right about that. Don’t know if anyone else would have thought of using dynamite either.

Guess that just shows we’re smarter than most, said Curly with a laugh. He then tossed another piece of dynamite. Course I don’t suppose a lot of the fellows could have got their hands on a stick of dynamite. Where’d you get it?

Pa usually has some around. He won’t miss the dynamite but he might miss the caps. But he’s not likely to be using any dynamite until next spring.

When they had used all their pieces of dynamite they went to their respective homes. Ralph was to pick Don up by midmorning to go into Elsie for the festivities.

When Rate arrived at Sherman’s the next day, Don was not waiting for him as he expected. His friend was never one to keep him waiting; therefore he went to the house to ask Mrs. Sherman where his friend was.

Ralph, I’m not sure what is wrong but Don is sick. He couldn’t keep his breakfast down. I’m afraid he won’t be going anywhere with you today. You can go up to see him if you like.

Rate went upstairs to see his friend. Don was pale and his freckles stood out more prominently than usual. He looked miserable.

How daya feel?

Rotten. Ma says I gotta stay in bed. Don’t really feel like being up, so I didn’t argue. Gosh, Rate, I felt fine last night.

Curly, I’ve heard old-timers tell that some people get sick from handling dynamite. Maybe that is what’s wrong. You handled a dozen pieces.

If that’s it, why aren’t you sick? You look fit as a fiddle, he complained.

It just didn’t affect me. Not everyone has the problem. Pa has handled plenty of dynamite and it never bothers him.

Don’t seem fair. We both threw the stuff, so it’s not fair that I’m sick an’ you’re not. Curly looked at his friend like it was Rate’s fault he wasn’t sick too.

Guess that’s life, suggested Ralph philosophically.

The boys talked for a short time then Rate left to go to Elsie for the day’s celebration. He was pretty much on his own now that he was sixteen but he’d meet the family for dinner. Ma always packed a basket with plenty of good food. He thought his folks enjoyed the holiday as much as anyone. Farmers worked hard all year, seven days a week; therefore, they needed a break now and then. A time when they could enjoy being with friends to watch some sort of entertainment.

Rate wasn’t sure if Blanche would be with them or not. Blanche and Elzie Call had gone together for only a short time and a few weeks ago she had begun going out with Ollie Bensinger. Rate didn’t know if she was going to be with Ollie today or not. Seemed kind of odd that Elzie Call had quit going with Mildred Chamberlin and had started keeping company with Blanche for such a short time. Ralph knew that Elzie and Mildred had not got back together and that fact had given the old busybodies around town something to talk about. Now, there was Ollie, who had been keeping rather steady company with Mildred Barrett but now he was squiring Blanche around. Oh well, Ralph figured it was none of his business. He thought Ollie was an odd duck and wondered why his sister wanted to keep company with the likes of him.

Blanche’s birthday was the 5th and she turned twenty-one. Miney hated to admit that her daughter was an adult, capable of making her own decisions without consulting her mother. It seemed such a short time ago that she had been young and dependent on Miney in so many ways. At least she and Blanche got on well. She’d heard other women complain that when their daughters got older they became estranged and they no longer seemed to confide in their mothers. She could be thankful that Blanche was not like that. Blanche still shared her thoughts and Miney tried not to be judgmental even if she didn’t always agree with Blanche’s line of thought. Times were changing and her daughter reflected a more modern way of thinking.

It was July 6 and Miney had a phone call from her niece, Hattie Sickels. She informed Miney that her mother, Mary, had gone into the hospital yesterday, scheduled for surgery today. Mary had died on the operating table. Miney wasn’t sure what the surgery was for. She only knew that Hattie said that when they cut Mary open the blood just ran and there was nothing the doctors could do. Hattie understandably was distraught so Miney, quite unlike her usual self had refrained from asking questions.

Goodness, Mary had not lived quite a year longer than Jap. Now, Miney and Lorin were the only ones left. The thought made Miney feel very much alone. One just never knew how much time on this earth was one’s total allotment. Some never made it past childhood like Millie’s sisters and brother. Mary was fifty-seven which was not all that old. Of course, her father had died very young but Ma had lived to be seventy­ six. Lorin was almost six years older than Mary yet her health seemed good.

Mary would be brought back to Elsie on the weekend. Hattie and Frank had not had time to make all the arrangements before Hattie called. Miney dreaded the thought of another funeral for one of her family. Still, she was glad Mary would rest in the Village cemetery instead of some faraway place like her sister, Ettie. There was some small comfort in that. At least she would be able to go to the cemetery any time she wished and flowers could be placed there on Decoration Day.

Ralph had come into the house rather quietly for him. Even now, he often closed the screen door with a bang. Miney sat in her rocker, her crocheting in her lap but she was staring out the window and her hands were idle. Ralph knew this was unusual. When she turned her head at his approach, he noticed her reddened eyes and knew she had been crying.

Ma, what’s wrong?

Oh, nothing. I was just thinking about your Grandma Smith. Two of her daughters died a lot younger than she did. You know, Ralph, Ma was the most mild-mannered person I ever knew. She never lost her temper. I recollect that one time Pa’s boys were all home sitting together on the edge of the porch. They were joshin’ each other as boys will. I can’t remember which one made an unkind remark about Jim. Ma had come onto the porch and had heard what he said. She walked over and nudged him slightly with the toe of her shoe and chided him for being unkind. She never even raised her voice. I’m afraid I’m not much like my mother. Would you believe I still miss her?

Guess so. I know Blanche and I often speak of her. We miss her too, partly, I guess because she was so different from Grandmother Setterington. Sometimes, I have a hard time remembering much about her. What I remember best is seeing her sitting in her chair drawn up by the window so she could see to knit or patch. She was always taking off her glasses when I came in. She never yelled at me for anything, he added with a note of nostalgia creeping into his voice.

Your Grandma Smith never yelled at anyone. It was your Grandpa Smith who made us toe the line, although it always seemed to me that he was more strict with Ettie and me than he was with Lorin and Mary. Maybe it was because they were older. Guess there are times when I miss both of them.

Miney sighed and picked up her crocheting. Ralph knew the conversation had ended. He felt Ma simply wanted to be alone with her thoughts.

Ralph went into the kitchen, took a couple of cookies, and headed back outside. Ma sure looked sad. He supposed it was because Aunt Mary’s funeral would be this weekend. He knew Ma dreaded it.

Blanche had been dating Ollie Bensinger regularly. Occasionally, they saw each other during the week, always on Saturday night and often on Sunday after­noon. Ollie was a farmer and his weeks consisted of long hours in the field. He lived only a couple of miles away from his mother.

Blanche was enjoying her summer at home immensely. On Saturday nights she and Ollie often went dancing. Blanche knew her mother didn’t approve; therefore, at home, she seldom spoke about dancing. However, several years ago, Pa had told her she could play cards and dance, so at least one parent had given approval. Blanche knew that with or without her parent’s consent at twenty-one she would quite likely have done just as she pleased anyway. She was old enough to make up her own mind. She’d never let her life be run as Pa had always let Grandmother and Grandfather run his.

On occasion, Ralph came into the parlor in Elsie where the young people congregated but Blanche had said nothing. She was certain Ma didn’t have a notion that was where Ralph was spending a good portion of his time. Dancing hadn’t appealed to Ralph but he was getting pretty good at pool and he liked to play cards. Blanche wasn’t sure Pa would think it proper for Ralph to do these things; consequently, she said nothing to get her brother into trouble. Blanche knew that Pa was always more lenient with her although she had never understood why. Now that she was older, she often realized that much of the time both Pa and Ma actually treated Ralph unfairly. Her brother certainly did his work well and without complaint but it seemed that neither Ma nor Pa recognized this. They just didn’t give Ralph credit for much of anything. Sometimes, she even felt a little resentful because they showed so much partiality. She wondered if Ralph blamed her but if he did, he never showed it in any way. He really was a pretty good brother even if he did like to tease. However, she felt she could hold her own in that category.

It was a nice summer’s evening, not too warm, with not a cloud in the sky. As usual, Ralph had given Pearl her head, and she had settled into an easy trot. Don Sherman was with him and was going to stay the night. The boys often stayed at one place or the other because they were seldom apart on a Saturday night.

They stabled Pearl and came quietly into the house so they wouldn’t rouse Miney who had finally quit asking, That you, Ralph? every time he came in past dark. There was a lamp on the dining room table, turned down low but giving enough light for the boys to see the lunch that had been placed on the table. It was cold chicken and a generous piece of the pie. He looked at Don and a small, devilish smile appeared on his face.

What say we see if this food is any good? Blanche and Ollie should have been home before this. It’s not our fault they’ve stayed out so late, is it?

"How’re we to know your Ma didn’t set this lunch out for us? Don’t see no name