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Post by patience on Oct 13, 2013 7:31:17 GMT -6
CHAPTER 58 June 2015
Saturday everyone was up early and loading up to go to market. Ronnie had loaded his things the night before and had taken his truck and wagon to Gerald Tomes place to be centrally located for others. Ronnie had his usual assortment of herbs, some smoked hams and pork shoulders, 4 buckets of lard, and some fresh vegetables from their huge garden. He was looking for a couple good tires for his farm wagon and some quantity of salt, which would probably have to come from the grocery and be paid for in money. He was also going to shop for a battery for his tractor. Gerald wasn't going to town, but entrusted a load of 10 gallons of good Concord grape wine to Ronnie to sell. (Bring your own bottles.)
Ed Wilson loaded a couple 100 pound bags of corn meal and two of wheat flour, packets of garden seeds, several dozen eggs, and a plastic barrel filled with dried beef. Joann had fresh vegetables including some onions and garlic. They would take dollars, but preferred silver. Joann wanted some cloth or clothing she could alter to fit her and Ed. She was going to town, but Ed was staying home to watch the place.
Ed's son Mike had added an assortment of reloaded ammunition (not for sale without usable empty brass), a sign advertising blacksmithing and welding, two of his hand cranked clothes wringers, some hand forged garden trowels and hunting knives. He would take good steel in trade for up to half the value of things he had made. His wife Laura wanted some shoes for herself and sewing notions, mostly thread.
Alicia, Sophia, Emily, and Chris were going mostly to buy, but Chris had his bottle of antler buttons, sorted by sizes. Sophia had baked some pies to trade in their last aluminum pie plates, and Emily had a bottle of dried Goldenseal. Alicia was hanging onto fidgety 2 year old Logan who needed shoes. She had 6 dozen eggs to trade and wanted some butter. They had silver coins to trade, too, and wanted any textbooks or reference books she didn't have.
Mel Sawyer was going, but taking nothing to trade, and didn't say what he wanted.
Charlie Allen told Todd to buy him some coffee, and gave him $20 in paper money. By 7:00 AM they were on the road, making about 20 miles an hour with Ronnie's truck in 3rd gear. The group was cheerful, but just a little wary. Trouble had died down after a new County Sheriff had been elected and he had no tolerance for thieves and other troublemakers. His influence was mostly in town, however, so everyone carried guns, even the girls who had learned how to shoot pretty well with a rifle. The trip was uneventful, though, and the market was already bustling when they arrived.
A tour down the aisles at the fairgrounds had Alicia a little shocked at how poor everyone seemed to have become since her last trip. The goods offered were pretty rough and too many people were dressed in worn out and ill fitting clothes. Some weren't very clean, either. All were polite and businesslike, though, and hawked their wares with some dignity.
Only one woman had some books, and the prices were low. Alicia made a deal for a cardboard box of hardback books. Some of them were old novels, but the package price got them for almost nothing. The best of the lot was an Oxford unabridged dictionary, an old home medical book, and a pair of thick green volumes titled The Lincoln Library which was a compact encyclopedic set. She gave 2 dozen eggs and a dollar for the lot. The woman seemed glad to get it. Apparently, books were not selling well. Alicia inquired for more books and was told the woman had a lot at home. Alicia got directions and would visit her on the way home. She carried the heavy box back to Ronnie's truck and stowed it in the bed.
Ronnie was doing a good business selling sliced ham and pork shoulder by weight. He had found some old newspaper somewhere to wrap it in. He already had a pair of tires for his wagon. Joann was busy measuring out cornmeal and flour with a quart Mason jar, and selling seeds by the packet. Sophia had only sold one pie, and was a little discouraged. Alicia told her to wait until near lunch time and offer it by the slice. The girl perked up and looked around for something clean to dish up the slices. She got some newspaper from Ronnie and set about cutting a couple pies.
Christopher was nowhere to be found for a while, then showed up with a proud grin. Alicia asked how he was doing?
"Real good! I traded off my buttons for a set of kitchen knives and a hatchet. I didn't want those, but another man did, and he had fishing stuff. I got a bunch of sinkers and hooks and line, and traded that for 4 boxes of .22's I wanted! I kept some of the fishing stuff, too. Matthew told me how to make floats, so I didn't buy any of those."
"Sounds like you have this trading thing figured out," she told him.
"I figured out that I had to trade around until I could get what I wanted, and that was the best I came up with."
Alicia and Laura found that clothing and sewing items were scarce and expensive. There were a few old shoes, but nothing they could use. Disappointed, they traded for what they could find of their needs and were talking to Joann about it.
Joann said, "Ed has a cowhide and two deer hides down at the tanner's he should be getting back before long. Maybe we can figure out how to make some shoes for your boy."
Sophia sold out her pies fast at lunchtime. Most people had brought food with them to eat, but no deserts. She netted a can of baking powder, some soda, and some money. The money went fast when she found a pair of shoes that fit her, just a little bit big so she could wear them for quite a while. She had enough money left to buy a couple pounds of sugar and she came home with 4 of the aluminum pie plates.
Ronnie's lard was a popular item, but most people had to go somewhere to find containers to carry it home. He had warmed the metal buckets by their campfire so he could pour the lard into a quart jar for measuring, then into the customer's container. It also gave the customers the chance to smell the heated lard and know it wasn't rancid. He could have sold more, and promised to have more the next week.
Alicia bought 2 pounds of butter from Gloria Barnes, and promised to buy from them regularly. Kate had sent some braided rugs to sell that Alicia looked over closely. She decided she could make them, and would try it with the girls. It was time they began to put together a Hope Chest for themselves.
It had been a good day at the market, and after stops on the way home Alicia was very happy with a pile of books and copy paper she'd bought from the book seller. Todd bought coffee for Charlie Allen and some for himself. Mel visited the pharmacy and grocery, coming out with small parcels. Ronnie got the salt he wanted, but had to go to the grain elevator where they sold bags of salt for animal feed.
The group was pleased with how things went, and were talking about it on the trip home, paying less than full attention to their surroundings. __________________
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Post by idahobob on Oct 13, 2013 11:25:56 GMT -6
Uh oh, not paying full attention to their surroundings?
Bad situational awareness.
I see something not nice about to happen.
Bob III
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Post by patience on Oct 13, 2013 17:19:46 GMT -6
I cut trees all day at the BOL, clearing to put an RV trailer in there, so no story tonight. Instead, here's some pix of the story locale, from Mike Wilson's backyard looking at Ed Wilson's trailer location, right behind the big brush pile. The trees average about 70 feet tall there. This shot reminds me of Robert Frost poem, "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy evening": "...The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep." Here's a shot out Ed's front door taken in late autumn when the leaves are off. That daylight through the trees is overlooking one of the many 300 ft. deep hollows in the area. On a clear winter day, you can see about 8 miles from there.
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Post by patience on Oct 14, 2013 14:35:04 GMT -6
Chapter 58, cont'd.
Ronnie slowed down and shifted to second gear as he turned onto the ridge road. The gravel was rough and bumpy, so anything over 10 miles an hour was out of the question. He idled along, munching on the last of his lunch. A light wind from behind them made the air almost still on the wagon, then became a cross breeze when the road turned.
The dogs came out of the woods from several places at once, and there were a lot of them. They smelled the hams, lard, and cooked food on the wagon and gave chase. All of them were very thin, starving animals crazed by hunger. Chris spotted two wild eyed dark colored dogs leaping out of the brush and almost onto the wagon. He grabbed for his rifle and slid the safety off as he swung toward the pair, now behind the wagon, but gaining on it. Ronnie seemed to be unaware of danger and continued to drive slow.
Mike pulled out his pistol and shot at the same time as Chris. Two dogs gave up the chase, one falling dead and the other stumbling off into the bushes. The others on the wagon tried to respond and aim at the dogs, but were hampered by other people in the way. From the bed of the truck, Alicia finally got her .22 in action as they rounded a turn and she could see 3 dogs not in line with the wagon. She fired at them without effect for a moment, but one faltered as it was hit and fell. Another slowed and headed for the trees.
Chris heard his rifle click on an empty chamber and scrambled for another magazine, dropping the empty on the wagon. Mike was firing at a big dog near the back of the wagon, faster than the others and ready to jump aboard. He got one shot into it as it jumped, then kicked it off the wagon. It fell hard, but got up and started to chase again, limping on one front leg. Mike dropped his magazine and yanked another from his belt pouch, slamming it home and cycling the Glock in time to shoot past Chris' head at one trying to jump on the side of the wagon.
Reloaded now, Chris searched for a target and saw one limping on his side of the road, the wagon bounced and his first shot missed. The second one did not, and that dog went down. Only two dogs remained in pursuit. Mike got up on one knee and steadied his shots as best he could, hitting one in the head that tumbled end over end then lay still in the road. Chris was firing at the other one and did some damage, as he put round after round into it. It slowed to a walk, then stopped and fell on it's side by the ditch.
Throughout the shooting, Ronnie had seen what was going on and was afraid to stop, lest the dogs get on the wagon or truck. He couldn't drive fast enough to outrun them without risking people falling off the wagon, so he continued as he was, trying to miss the worst bumps. When the shooting died down and there were no more dogs in sight Ronnie was near Mel's driveway. Mel had been in the cab with him and advising him, but was unable to get a clear shot at any of the dogs. The danger past, Ronnie slowed and stopped. Mike and Chris immediately stood and scanned the surroundings for any sight or sound of danger, guns ready. Mel quickly got out of the truck and stood in the back with Alicia, looking in all directions, but no target appeared.
Shaken, but otherwise okay, the group calmed down some and began to assess the situation. Mel and Mike checked their weapons and started back down the road on foot to look for targets. Chris stayed on the wagon and Alicia stood in the truck bed scanning the area. Ronnie shut the truck off and got out with his shotgun to keep watch.
Todd had heard the shooting, grabbed a rifle and trotted down the road toward the sounds, careful to not expose himself to the firing. He saw one dog stagger into the trees as the truck rounded the next bend out of sight, a quarter mile ahead. Assuming dogs to be the enemy, he continued to look for them, walking to avoid getting too close to the action. He stopped on a hilltop in the road and watched until he heard the shooting stop and then the truck shut off.
Mel yelled at Todd to not shoot as they headed his way. They met and walked back down the road to look over what had happened. They found five dogs dead in the road, and one just beyond the roadside ditch. After much discussion, they all decided that out of the 8 they had seen, only two dogs had gotten away into the trees, and both had been hit. Both Sophia and Emily had been in the truck bed and gotten their hands on their rifles, but had kept their heads down to keep out of Alicia's way, unable to find a target themselves.
A very shaken group made their way to their homes with the days' proceeds. _____________
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Post by kaijafon on Oct 14, 2013 16:25:03 GMT -6
I'm afraid that they will see even more dogs over then next few months!
Thank you!!!
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Post by freebirde on Oct 14, 2013 16:34:36 GMT -6
Need to put a dog in heat in a very secure pen, with a roof and floor, inside another secure pen surrounded by box traps. Box traps to live capture in case they belong to locals. You can take the feral dogs and put them down in a humane manner. Put bait in the traps so you can capture females in the pack also.
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Post by crf78112 on Oct 14, 2013 19:34:01 GMT -6
We have dogs dumped in our area regularly I think by city folks too guilty to put them in a pound. I wish they would have to see what happens to some of the dogs they abandon. Firstly the City has a no-kill policy so abandoned animals are either adopted out or placed in a doggy retirement farm. But no these people set there animals "free in the country", free to be savaged by packs of larger dogs or coyotes, free to be run over because they don't know not to sleep on the warm road, free to starve to death if they are not killed first. I try to catch as many as possible and take them to the shelter but some are so scared they are unable to be captured. Some can be caught with box traps, but some manage to join a pack of feral animals. These must be terminated as they will pack up on any creature not obviously dangerous to the pack. Can't allow them to stay in the neighborhood and requires constant vigilance as after being shot at, they will move on for awhile then return.
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Post by patience on Oct 15, 2013 7:58:36 GMT -6
CHAPTER 59, July, 2015
When Matthew had been mushroom hunting the past Spring, he'd found a hollow tree that had blown over in a storm. The good part was, it had been full of wild honeybees. They had moved most of their honey when he found it, but most of the old honeycomb was still there, so instead of mushrooms, he filled his sack with the sticky beeswax.
It was the work of a couple days to get it cleaned up. It had been very dark, almost black in the beginning. First he soaked in in warm water and stirred a lot to loosen the remaining honey, then rinsed it several times in cold water to keep from melting it and washing away the prized wax. He followed that with putting the still dirty wax in a kettle of hot water on the wood cook stove. It melted slowly, then he stirred more as it got hotter and thinned out. He carried the kettle outside and poured cold water in it to dilute and rinse out the impurities. The cold water went to the bottom, took the dirt with it, and cooled the wax. It sat outside overnight to cool.
The next day he had a cake of fairly clean wax set up hard in the kettle, with dirty water under it. He cracked the cake of wax out and scraped more dirt from the bottom of the cake. Then he repeated the whole process and came out with very nice yellow beeswax the third day. There was almost a gallon of it. This he melted and poured it into an old muffin pan and let it set up hard. When it got cold, he tapped it on the bottom and came out with cakes of wax. He planned to sell it to women for waxing sewing thread, or to mix with tallow for making candles that wouldn't soften and sag in hot weather.
When Mike Wilson heard about it, he offered to buy a couple pounds of it for bullet lubricant. He was casting lead bullets from salvaged materials. The molds Todd had bought had lubricant grooves in the cast bullets. Tallow alone would melt in hot weather and wasn't a real good lube, but beeswax was excellent. Mike mixed a one cup of beeswax with 2 cups of beef tallow, and added some old short candle stubs made of paraffin to harden it more. This mixture he melted and poured into some shallow baking pans, too rusty to use for cooking. When he had a batch of bullets ready, he set the pans on the cook stove to melt the mixture, then carefully set bullets in it one at a time, nose up. When it cooled off, he used old shell casings, expanded slightly oversize, as a cookie cutter to remove the bullets with the wax intact.
It was a slow process, but new ammunition was not available. Mike was hoping that ammunition would soon be produced again, and components for reloading. Todd's stock of primers and powder especially would not last forever. Mike had only a few hundred factory made rifle bullets left in .223 and .30 calibers. Cast lead bullets did fine in most pistols and revolvers, but rifle velocities were too high for their standard loads because the lead would melt slightly and foul the barrels. The ammunition problem would get critical in a year or two. Good reloadable brass was hard to come by. Nobody could save all their empties when they were hunting. Mike made good money reloading for the present, but he could see it coming to an end. He had set aside personal stashes for himself and his Dad, but that would be gone someday, too. ________________
Ed Wilson wanted another way to make an income that an old man could do. Raising beef was all right, as long as they could get some fuel and keep the hay machinery running, but they were getting short of baler twine, and mice had gotten into some of their spare twine. He was thinking that if twine and machinery parts were not available soon, they would be making loose hay in stacks. The garden seeds brought a good return, but they were getting short on money, so Joann had been working extra hard remaking old clothing to trade to some neighbors. It was hard to keep enough coming in for what they needed.
The problem of shoes had come up several times, so when Ed got his hides back from the tanner, he set his mind to making himself a pair of shoes. First, he made himself a good belt using an old one for a pattern and salvaging the buckle. He had seen leather punches and awls and knew how they worked. Mike had acquired an old small metal lathe that he had arranged to power with a 10 speed bicycle. If someone wanted lathe work done, they got to do some pedaling while he made the parts. Ed and Joann took turns pedaling while Mike made some leather punches for Ed using old engine valve stems he had softened in the forge and rehardened when he was done. Like most jobs now, it was slow business, but he got his punches.
After much deliberation, Ed decided to try using some masonry string for sewing leather. He had a lot of it, being one of the things he'd stocked up on. The string was far too thick for sewing, but it was made of 3 strands that he unraveled and got an acceptable answer when he waxed one strand with some of Mike's bullet lubricant. He had some heavy needles he had bought for farm use, in case he had to sew up an injured animal, or repair heavy canvas. Mike modified an old pair of pliers to push and pull the heavy needles by filing a narrow groove in the jaws.
Ed used an awl he'd ground from an old screwdriver to punch holes for thread in the hard cowhide, then hand sewed the buckle on his new belt. To soften the hard oak tanned leather, he coated it with beef tallow and laid it in the sun until it soaked in. That was too slow, so he heated a piece of flat metal in the cook stove and used it like an iron to melt the tallow into the leather. He found it worked better if he mixed in some lard. It took some working to soften the leather, pulling the belt over the edge of a board to bend it sharply back and forth until it was flexible. He was pleased with his result, and thought he could probably make shoes, but he needed some old ones for patterns.
The cowhide would make good soles and heels, but he had no way to split the thick cowhide for use in the thinner, softer upper parts of shoes and boots. Deerskin was too soft and delicate to wear very well, being better suited to making clothing and pouches. He bought a pig hide from the tanner and found it worked just fine. He had some mistakes to make and a lot of learning to do, but Ed found he could do the work sitting down, and it was a lot easier on him than farm work.
It took him a while, but Ed duplicated an old pair of slip on engineer boots he had loved until they were beyond repair. He didn't have to advertise. Anywhere he went wearing his new boots, he got orders for shoes. He was pretty slow making the first several pairs, but as he learned it got easier and faster. His products cost more than even the high priced shoes imported from Mexico they had seen in town recently, but Ed's were high quality and would outlast those.
Two year old Logan Reynolds got a new pair of tiny shoes made of deerskin, with pigskin soles and cowhide heels. Ed made them a little big, so he would grow into them. Joann learned that Alicia was pregnant again, so the shoes would surely get handed down to the next child. ________________
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Post by crf78112 on Oct 15, 2013 16:30:02 GMT -6
I used to sail a lot and learned that for canvas and leather repair you want a sewing awl. Now that I'm homesteading it is still a handy tool. I have a couple of awls and plenty of spare needles and thread. My wife was shocked when we met I was on an extended (5 month) camping trip and had a full sewing kit in my gear. If you have never seen a sewing awl take a look at: www.sailrite.com/Speedy-Stitcher-Sewing-Awl-Kit?gclid=CPr9ip7tmboCFY5r7AodQ20AVw and there are plenty of youtube videos showing how to use one.
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Post by crf78112 on Oct 15, 2013 16:32:19 GMT -6
BTW, I have NO association with sailrite or speedy stitcher.
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Post by patience on Oct 16, 2013 20:35:25 GMT -6
Chapter 59, cont'd.
The 4th of July dawned bright and clear, promising a hot day. Country people were enjoying a respite from hard work until the winter wheat got ripe, their gardens producing food for canning green beans, new potatoes, early tomatoes, salad greens and any vegetable they had seen fit to plant. Laura was busy boiling potatoes for the community dinner's potato salad, and had picked an assortment of young squash, green peppers, Roma tomatoes, and eggplant for grilling over the campfire at Gerald's place.
"Mike! Can you get me a bucket of water? I need to watch my cooking."
"Sure. Be right back."
He went out with the kitchen bucket and worked the hand pump on their cistern. He was careful not to spill any on the freshly mopped floor, and sat it on the kitchen counter top by the sink. He went out the back door to where his wife was cooking on the porch. They had moved the wood cook stove outside as soon as the weather got warm enough. It kept the house a lot cooler for sleeping at night.
"Can I help you here?"
"Yeah, you can skin those potatoes while I cut up some boiled eggs to put in the potato salad."
As they worked together, Laura asked, "Are you ready to go?"
"Yeah, I got the dishes packed in a wood box with some towels, and I got the barbecue utensils and salt and pepper. I put in the fire tripod I made, and the dutch oven with the baked beans in it. That's all in the truck. Dad and Joann are coming over soon with their stuff and we'll go together to Gerald and Anne's place."
"Okay. Better get some drinking glasses, and pack them good to make sure they don't break."
"There's room in the box for that." Mike went out with the glasses, holding them with both hands and backing out the door."
"I can get the door," Ed said, and opened it for him. "You all ready to go?"
"Soon as Laura gets the potato salad put together."
Joann asked, "Where can I put these pickles that they won't fall over and break?"
"I'll get another box. We need it anyway." Mike disappeared into his workshop.
As Laura came out with a covered dish, Joann got the door for her and opened the tailgate of the truck. Mike showed up with a box and some clean rags and packed it all away. Ed added his pan of barbecued beef, and they all got in the truck, the men in back and the women in the cab. Laura let the truck roll down the hill from the house and popped the clutch expertly, starting the engine without using the electric starter. The battery was about shot, so they habitually parked it on high ground. She pushed off the manual choke button Mike had used to replace the faulty automatic choke and the engine began to purr. Ordinarily they would walk the half mile to Gerald's place, but this was a holiday and there was a lot to carry, so they splurged a little by driving.
Mel Sawyer and Vickie Hoskins walked across the small field from their place carrying loaves of bread and a covered kettle. Mel had his ever present rifle on a sling over his shoulder, like everyone else with some kind of firearm, including all the kids over 10 years old.
Todd and his family came in their truck with Charlie and Denise Allen in the back with the kids, except Logan on his mother's lap. They unloaded heir food and carried it to the tables set up in Gerald's yard overlooking his ponds. Gerald had a big kettle on the fire frying catfish, and was too busy tending it to do more than say hello to everyone as they came in.
Tara and Ronnie came in with Matthew, Tara looking very pregnant, and carrying a big basket covered with a towel. Matthew had a couple jars of something he sat on a table with the rest of the food. Gerald's wife Anne said, "The big cooler over there has drinks in it. There's some sweet iced tea, several bottles of Gerald's wine chilling, some milk for the kids and some cold water in there. We can all thank Todd for bringing over the ice early this morning."
Everyone had found a patch of shade trying to stay out of the hot sun. A couple cheers went up for Todd as people headed for the cooler. The kids didn't seem to mind the heat and went down to the ponds to see if Gerald's catfish would come up to see them. Gerald fed them every evening, so when people showed up a few of the big fish would come over to investigate. They saw a few big ones laying on the bottom of the clear water, but even tossing a few pebbles in the water didn't bring any fish up from the cool depths.
"Come an' get it!"
The kids heard Gerald yell and ran for the big metal building where everyone had gathered to eat. Gerald had moved most of his winemaking things back out of the way to make room, and had set up temporary tables with concrete blocks overlaid with planks. Everything imaginable was pressed into service for seating, old lawn chairs, a couple dining table chairs, some buckets, and a box or two. The bigger kids all lined up by the farm wagon to eat standing with their plates and glasses on the wagon bed. Matthew found a seat on the wagon bed and held his plate, while Emily sat close beside him. The conversation got quieter as they ate. When plates were emptied, a few began to look over the deserts and found Sophia's peach pies, Laura's molasses cake, and various other baked goodies.
Later, as the food began to digest, some wen tto the cooler for a glass of wine as they sat and talked.
"What's the news, Todd? Heard anything on the shortwave?"
"Not much. Indiana says we don't have to vehicle insurance now, but drivers are 'financially responsible for accident damages' ".
"Hell, that ain't news! All the insurance companies went broke a long time ago."
"Right. They just made it official. They did say they are trying to get some businesses going, a small factory to make matches, and they are financing s few sawmills to get going again. They are letting them cut pine in the State Forests, but they can't get around the Federal fuel rationing, even for industrial use."
" 'Bout time somebody made matches," Charlie said.
"The fuel rationing is keeping everything down," Ronnie said.
"That's the bad news. A couple other Mideast countries are having oil wells lose production, so the prices are supposed to go up. Rationing will probably tighten up, too," Todd added.
Gerald said, "We got to find some ways to do things that don't need oil. Ever' time somebody wants to start a business, they bump their heads on the fuel thing. Electricity is the only thing that is still going to amount to anything. But you can't haul logs with electricity. You can run a sawmill on an electric motor, but that don't do any good for movin' logs of lumber."
Ed said, "It looks to me like we better get used to high priced fuel. I don't see that getting any better. I talked to Wes Blake in town a while back and he said he is training 4 head of steers for oxen. I said they are slow as the devil, so how can he get much farming done with 'em? He said, yes, they are slow, but we grow the feed for them, and they are more reliable than a tractor that you can't get parts for. He said he doesn't have to farm as much ground because he doesn't need the money to spend on fuel and equipment. Made sense to me."
Charlie asked, "So, are we going back to horse and buggy days?"
"Might have to," Ronne said, "There wasn't any need for oil before we had it. I suppose we might have to learn the old ways again."
"Well, I sure as hell don't want to cut wood with a crosscut saw. I'll pay $15 a gallon for gas for the chain saw," Charlie said.
Ed said, "I agree with you Charlie. I think it depends on what the job is and what other ways there are to do it. It still makes sense to use gasoline and diesel fuel for some things, but if it gets much higher, we better find ways to get by without it."
Mike hadn't said anything, but he was wanting to talk to Wes Blake about what farm machinery he planned to use with oxen, and how he was going about doing that. There was probably a need for modifying some machinery for use with oxen, or horses, if people did that. Mike began to think about what he'd seen the Amish do with machinery. _________________
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Post by patience on Oct 18, 2013 9:23:05 GMT -6
Chapter 59, cont'd.
The women were talking among themselves, too. Alicia told Tara, "If we can't get material for sewing, we're going to be wearing animal skins like the cave men."
Tara said, "I saw some new imported clothing at the used clothing store in town, but I couldn't afford any of it. And it's not that great, either. Just like the old cheap stuff with seams that rip out and thin material."
"I can't find any needles and thread to speak of. They just have some of those cheap repair kits at the pharmacy now. They had some regular big spools of thread, but they ran out quick. I got a couple spools of upholstery thread at the Saturday market, but it was old stuff, and they wanted a price for it, too," Joann said.
Vickie said, "I hope somebody starts making those things here again. We can't afford to buy the imported goods at all. I'm just watching for old clothes I can buy to make over to fit Mel and myself. It's underwear that is a problem."
"Isn't THAT the truth? All my under things are worn out and they are just not to be had anywhere," Joann said.
Alicia said, "Todd tells me that there isn't enough money to start up factories again, and if they did, fuel is too scarce to ship things around the country. He thinks this is going to last for a long time." ________________
Matthew had seen some nice looking clothing for sale the last time he went to market. The prices were a little on the high side and it wasn't new, but a lot of it looked pretty good. He told Ronnie he'd like to know where it had come from. They asked some questions quietly and learned that the man came from up north and drove a gray van that was dirty, but looked to be in excellent shape. Nobody seemed to know any more about him, but the van was always packed full of stuff. The man would rarely take anything except cash or silver for his goods. It remained a mystery for now. Black marketeers were common and nobody dared ask too many dumb questions about them. Matthew had bought a couple shirts and a pair of jeans from him. The jeans looked to be brand new.
Joann heard on the radio one day that the old Wal Mart warehouse complex in Seymour had been cleaned out by some very well organized thieves. The warehouses were mostly empty and unused now, except for an occasional rare rail shipment of goods out to other stores in the state. A night watchman had been killed and a large amount of clothing and other things stolen. The State Police, now operating at about 1/4 of their original staff level, were investigating.
She told Ed, "They'll sell that stuff on the black market and if they are reasonable about prices, nobody will turn them in. Clothes are too hard to find."
Ed said, "That's a fact. I'm thinking we saw some of that at the market last week. Ronnie bought some things that looked like brand new. I better warn him to not wear those clothes where a cop could see them. It would be real hard to prove, anyway, unless somebody was dumb enough to tell where they got the stuff."
Gloria, Kate, and Ashley were overjoyed to find new underwear at the market. They had heard the same news broadcast on TV. Larry and Wes were glad to have new socks, under wear, and Tee shirts, too. They had both gotten a couple pairs of new jeans and some shirts. All of them were some of the old Wal Mart brands, so they were pretty sure where they came from, but they all swore they wouldn't tell anybody about where it came from.
The gray van had left town empty. It didn't show up again until the weather started getting cool in the Fall. ______________
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Post by idahobob on Oct 18, 2013 11:09:47 GMT -6
Just got caught up ,again.
Great story. Sounds like a big dose of reality, that we may be facing, soon.
Bob III
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Post by patience on Oct 18, 2013 21:36:57 GMT -6
CHAPTER 60, September, 2015
Wheat harvest had gone well for Dan Billings and Todd Reynolds. The yield had been pretty good at 40 bushels per acre in the fields where they grew soybeans last year. Lesser acreage planted this year had caused grain prices to go up. The State was paying $8.20 a bushel this year, having struck deals with other states in the south, with trade agreements to supply sugar, molasses, and cotton cloth from restored textile plants there, to be delivered by rail later in the year.
Dan and Todd had only planted a total of 40 acres, but the income from that was $12,800 they split between them. Almost $2,000 of that they had spent on parts made by a machine shop in Seymour, to keep Dan's combine running. Even so, they had almost $4,500 each left, and they both had enough wheat left for seed and home use for the year. They still had soybeans and corn to harvest, and expected to net around $20,000 apiece for the year. _______________
Truck drivers that delivered fuel and groceries had told that there were more stores open in the Clarksville area now and they were stocked pretty well on Mondays and Tuesdays, after the weekly rail shipments came in. They also said the city police were back on the job, at least a third of them, so there was less crime now. The stores all had their own armed security people, too, and open carry of firearms was allowed. He didn't know if the gun laws had been changed or not, but everybody carried guns anyway and nobody was objecting.
Wes and Larry decided to take a trip to the Rural King farm store there and look for some much needed supplies. The women objected, but were resigned to the risks and made their lists of what was needed, and nice-to-have items separately. Early on Tuesday morning the two of them set out in Wes' pickup with the lockable camper top.
Wes drove slowly, both for better gas mileage and to better see the surroundings. The trip down highway 60 was quiet, with almost no traffic. Half of the creek bottom fields along the highway had not been farmed this year and were grown up in weeds. Only about one in 3 houses showed signs of being lived in, and that was hard to tell, with overgrown lawns. A few hardy souls were cooking over fires in the yards and warily watched the truck when they passed by. The closer they got to I-65, the more burned out houses they saw. In Hamburg, there were several obviously deserted business buildings, but one old grocery parking lot was busy with what looked like a market day gathering. The traffic light at the intersection worked, but there was only one car crossing their route.
The interstate highway looked narrower somehow, until Wes realized that the grass along it had not been mowed, causing the illusion. Both men had handguns under their loose flannel shirts, and there were 2 shotguns behind the seat, but everything looked quiet when they turned into the store parking lot. It had a lot of potholes, but there were a few vehicles there and shoppers going in and out looking more or less normal. There was a security guard at the door with a short shotgun and a holstered pistol, standing with his back to the brick store front. The men watched as several customers walked in and out carrying guns in holsters. Customers seemed to all be in pairs, one pushing a shopping cart to their vehicle and the other behind them looking watchful.
Larry said, "Looks kinda like the wild west, but I don't see any trouble."
Wes said, "You know what they say, an armed society is a polite society."
Larry chuckled and said, "You got that right! I say we go on in and just be slow and careful. I don't want to get anyone agitated here."
"Right. Let's go."
They found a cart inside and were surprised that the store was fairly well stocked, although there were only half as many shelves as there used to be. The clothing area was very small now, and prices were high. Most of the clothing looked a little dusty, like it had been there a long time. After seeing the price on a heavy work coat at $349 Wes decided that his old one would do just fine for another winter. Likewise on his rubber boots. What they had here said Made in China, and were close to $100 a pair. They weren't very thick material, either. Wes thought he could use some old parts of inner tubes to come up with a useful substitute, if he could figure out how to sew it together.
Oddly, there was still a big selection of paint, but it also looked like it had been there for a very long time. Some of the cans even showed a few specks of rust on top. Wes decided that a couple gallons of oil based aluminum enamel would be a good idea, even at $59 a gallon.
They found some sewing needles and thread, packages of lighter flints, and tubes of pressure grease, but all those were limited quantity per customer. There were still some odds and ends of bolts and pipe fittings, but nothing that looked like very useful sizes, and a small quantity of motor oil (15W40 only), limit 5, at $29.95 per gallon in generic looking metal cans, with a $4 deposit on the can. There were no filters, except some odd air filters. Wes bought 5 gallons of motor oil and the limit of 6 tubes grease at $5.99 each. Larry popped the cap off one tube to look and it was the old yellow colored cheap kind, not even the black lithium base grease.
The veterinary area had only some fly spray in cans and odd things like ear tags and calf pulling chains, but zero antibiotics or disinfectants. The housewares section did have canning jars and lids, but at $4.99 for a dozen lids, the men got the minumum they felt they had to have. There was a lot of old stock of kitchen gadgets and decorative items that clearly weren't selling. What matches were available were limited to one box per customer, and they were $4.49 a box for 100 books of paper matches. No wood matches were in sight.
Larry said, "These prices make our farm income look pretty small, huh?"
"Sure do. We'll not be buying anything we can do without."
"Makes me start to wonder if the trip was worth it," Larry said.
Wes looked grim as he said, "The women aren't going to be happy, are they?"
"Nope."
They added a few more things on their lists, but had only checked off a third of what the "Need" list said, and nothing else. Even so, their bill was $428 and change. Wes had been keeping track and thought that was too high until he saw the sales tax was now 15%. Apparently the State had about given up on collecting much income tax and were going to get their money this way. His expression looked like most of the long faced people at the checkout.
To their surprise the Bass Pro store was open. It had the big glass front windows covered with well aged plywood. The doors were covered with a sheet of steel, and had a place for a bar on the inside. The selection there was almost all old stock, with very few guns in evidence and no ammunition. There were a few compound bows, but only the cheapest variety of arrows and points, and not many of those. The decorative fish pond displays had been emptied and the fishing gear was badly depleted. There were only three clerks to assist customers for the entire store, compared to a couple dozen in years past. The hunting clothes were picked over leaving only odd sizes of things, and like Rural King, prices were outrageous and the goods were dusty.
The store lighting wasn't the best, with a lot of burned out lights. Larry looked at Wes and said, "I don't see anything I can't live without, do you?"
"Nope. Let's go."
The Wal Mart store was open where they found the same poor selection of food and clothing with super high prices, so they didn't buy anything. Harbor Freight was closed and looked to have been so for a long time with grass and weeds growing through numerous cracks in the parking lot. The only restaurant they saw open on the business strip was where Long John Silver's used to be, but their sign had been replaced with a hand painted one that said "Home Cooking". They drove on past the few cars there and headed for home. ____________________
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Post by patience on Oct 19, 2013 14:18:43 GMT -6
Chapter 60, cont'd.
Cotton harvest was nearly finished in the Deep South, despite a lack of equipment. Unable to either find parts or pay for them to keep their equipment running, crop incomes were lost so over the past 3 years many had lost farms to foreclosures and now worked directly for the banker owners. Small southern farmers were now tenants on the farms they had once owned. Those who had been able to hang on were reduced to picking cotton by hand as it had been generations ago.
A few cotton gins were in operation again, with most of the product being shipped directly to Asia. Some ancient textile mills, shut down years ago when production moved overseas, were running again, with all the old hazards of lung damaging dust and firetrap buildings. But it meant jobs where there had been none. Some very old and long retired mill mechanics had been recruited to oversee repairs and restoration of the long idle factories. Bolts of plain, undyed cotton muslin and denim began to flow out first in a trickle, then a stream to eager customers. Cotton thread was being spun again and these products in small quantities made it to northern states by late September. ________________
Joann saw the truck, a box van, unloading cloth at the Dollar General store and hurried inside. She waited for half an hour until the bolts of cloth and boxes of thread were put on display. When she saw the price at $3.50 per yard for 54" cotton muslin and $6.00 for denim, she asked how much was on a bolt? Fifty yards, they said. She went back out to Todd's truck and told Alicia, who chased down Todd in the grocery next door. Together, they all went back to Dollar General and bought a bolt each of muslin and denim, and 2 big cone-shaped spools of white thread, one regular weight and the other heavy weight. The women went home overjoyed and set about splitting up what they each needed and settling up on the cost. Ashley and Kate were the next ones to make a similar purchase. Before closing time, there wasn't much of the shipment left.
The seams were ripped out of the worst worn clothing so the pieces could be used for patterns, and women began sewing immediately, the menfolk being diverted to help keep the garden harvests coming into kitchens for canning. Everyone watched for walnuts to get ripe to use for dying the resulting garments, along with pokeberry juice, and any other dyestuffs they could think of. Old books were searched for dye recipes and mordants.
There was no elastic, buttons, zippers, or hooks available, so boxer shorts were fitted with drawstrings, and buttons made of wood, horn, and antler replaced zippers, requiring some alterations in patterns. Socks were still an expensive and sought after item, with no ready replacement for them. The imported cotton socks from China had shown up again at the Dollar Store but at $4.00 a single pair, few people bought them, choosing to do without in summer, but winter was coming soon. There were rumors on market day of some woman who had sheep that was spinning yarn, but nobody had seen any yet. _________________
Larry Barnes had spent half a day carefully stirring the aluminum paint that must have sat on the shelf for years, until he got the settled pigment mixed up. Wes found a gallon of linseed oil that Joe had bought years before and mixed some in the paint to make it go further. They painted all the metalwork around the farm, fuel tanks, gates, sheet metal on the combine, and the hand well pump. The farm began to look a little better. The motive was not appearance, but to preserve the metal. Kate had insisted that they put up a gate across the driveway so they could let the cattle graze around the house and barn lot. Using gasoline to mow the lawn was unthinkable. She and Gloria shoveled manure from the yard and put it on the garden. Larry and Wes found Joe's old mowing scythe and cut the highest weeds. It began to look like a lawn again just before corn was ready to pick.
Larry was a pretty good woodworker and had hewed and whittled out a series of ox yokes as the steers they were training grew bigger. Both teams of oxen were working fairly well now, and did some duty dragging logs up near the wood shed to be cut into firewood. At 2 1/2 years old they weren't driving well enough yet to trust them with a wagon, but they did fine pulling a wooden sled around the farm to move loads. They would get some practice plowing this Fall if the weather held. Wes had converted an old 2 bottom drag plow to pull with both teams hitched one in front of the other. ___________________
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Post by nancy1340 on Oct 19, 2013 20:28:32 GMT -6
Thank you.
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Post by patience on Oct 20, 2013 17:31:49 GMT -6
CHAPTER 61, October, 2015
An early frost had killed a lot of weeds along the roads and fencerows. The leaves on Poplar and a few Maple trees had begun turning bright yellow and red. Todd was driving his tractor pulling Dan's old 2 row ear corn picker, the combine being out of commission for the moment until they could figure out how to repair it. This was slow business, picking only 2 rows of corn at a time instead of 8 rows with the big combine. It also meant they had to find storage space for the ears of corn, since this machine did not shell the grains off like the combine did. Ed had found rolls of welded wire mesh that would answer for temporary corn cribs, but there was still the problem of how to shell the corn if they were going to sell it. Cows could chew it off the cobs, although they were a little wasteful doing it. Hogs would, too, but they wasted even more of it. Nobody around close had an old corn sheller, either.
Dan and Mike Wilson were working on the combine and expected to get it going again, but it had rained some and the corns stalks were starting to fall over. They had to get it picked pretty soon, or lose a lot of it from being fallen over where the picker could not get it. Bob Clemmons was driving Dan's tractor and shuttling wagons of corn to the crib to unload them with a hand scoop onto their quickly erected wire cribs. Bob had found enough work in the area to stay on renting from Ronnie Nichols. He was a willing worker and a likable sort. Ronnie said he had made a lot of improvements in the old Duncan place for him, mostly to reduce his rent and that suited Ronnie just fine.
The sun was going down and the corn was getting tough as the evening dew settled on it, the ears not snapping off well, nor shucking very well. Todd decided that when this wagon was full he'd better quit for the day. Bob was coming over the rise when Ronnie got to the end of the field and shut it down. He planned to leave the tractor and picker in the field and ride back with Bob when he took in this last load. Todd went to the back of the picker to unhitch the wagon for Bob who expertly backed up to it. Todd dropped in the hitch pin and climbed on the tractor.
Bob asked, "You done for the day?"
"Yeah, it's getting tough. I'll help you scoop this one off. What's that thing in the fencerow?"
Bob said, "It looks like an old mowing machine. One of those old horse drawn jobs. I saw the seat sticking up outa the weeds."
Todd was thinking. "Ronnie said something about getting some horses to work his place, and he wanted to find some of that old equipment. I better ask Dan about that and see who it belongs to."
"They's a mess of that old stuff down in river bottoms. I seen several things settin' in the weeds down there when I come down here from Brownstown. They wasn't anybody on them farms, either. They got flooded out a coupla years in a row and then with the hard times an' all, I guess they just give it up."
"I bet Ronnie would love to get his hands on that stuff. You'd better tell him about it the next time you see him."
"I'll do that. He's been pretty good to me. I'd do anything I can to help him." They shoveled off the load of corn and walked from Dan's place to their respective homes.
Bob stopped at Ronnie's to tell him about the mower in the fencerow and the old equipment across the river. Ronnie was interested.
"You say nobody lives on those farms now?"
Bob said, "Last year they wasn't nobody there, an' it was all growed up in weeds. I doubt if anybody is there now. That stuff will just lay there and rust away. You just as well have it as anybody. The bank prob'ly took them farms and I know they was gettin' all the newer machinery, but nobody bid on it at auction. I dunno what happened to it. Then the bank went bust and no tellin' who owns them farms now, if anybody does. State'll prob'ly take the ground for taxes, eventually. I say, finders keepers!"
A week later when the corn harvest was finished, Bob and Ronnie packed a lunch and went to look at what might be available on the deserted farms. Off the highway on the county roads there was one old farmhouse after another with weeds grown up around them and no signs of life anywhere. They drove for 5 or 6 miles before they saw a couple cooking something over a fire in the side yard and stopped. The man straightened and picked up his shotgun leaning against the porch of an old house. Ronnie shut the truck off in what had once been a driveway, now overgrown with grass and weeds. He told Bob, "Let's leave the guns in the truck."
"Hello! I'm looking to buy old farm machinery. Like to talk to you a bit."
"Well, c'mon up. We got nothing to offer you but a drink of water, but you're welcome to that," the man said.
"I'm Ronnie Nichols, " he said, offering a handshake.
The man held his shotgun by the barrel, but shook hands with Ronnie and introduced himself as Calvin Brown.
"I got no machinery left. Bank took it all. They couldn't take the house 'cause it and 2 acres was in my mother's name, but they took the farm and everything off of it. Damn 'em all," he said with feeling.
"I hate to hear that, but seems like it happened a lot."
"Sure did. Ain't nobody in 5 mile of here but what got kicked out with nothin'."
Bob said, "That's what happened to my sister and her husband. They did get together with his brother, though, and they are working his Dad's old place."
"Who's that?"
"My brother in law is Alvin Wischmier, his brother is Steve. Their Dad's place is up just west of Brownstown. I ain't seen 'em this year, but they was growin' melons and vegetables last year when I camped there."
"Yeah! I know Steve. Worked harvest for him last Fall. What's your name?"
"Bob Clemmons. I lived in Indy until it all came apart and came down here for a place to land. I work for Ronnie here now, and some others over on the ridge south of the river."
The small talk continued for a few minutes, putting them all at ease before getting down to business.
Ronnie said, "I'm looking for old horse drawn machinery. With gas and diesel so high, I think I might be able to make that work out."
"Real horse drawn stuff? You can have all that you can find. There's probably a piece or two of that kind of thing at every farm in the county, layin' in fencerows and in scrap piles. I got a couple things in that pile over there. I was gonna sell it for scrap, but nobody's buyin' now."
"Let's see what you've got."
Ronnie bought a couple one horse cultivators and a very rusty but serviceable walking plow for $25. The wood handles were long rotted away, but the metal parts were workable.
"That's more than they used to give for scrap metal. I'd sell you a lot at those rates if I had it."
"Do you know where there is more, so we don't have to hunt? I'll pay you for your help."
"Let me get a bite of lunch here and I'll show you where we can load you truck."
Ronnie and Bob got their sack lunches from the truck and sat down to eat with them talking over what Ronnie wanted. Within a couple hours, Ronnie's truck was loaded and he paid Calvin Brown $40 for his help and information. They agreed he would come back the next day and get other things he had seen, but didn't have room to load.
The next day they took the flat bed wagon behind the truck. They spent the day digging around old farm buildings and fencerows, and Calvin Brown made another $50. Ronnie and Bob were tired and had the truck and wagon loaded heavy on the way home. He drove it straight to Mike Wilson's home shop unloaded the truck and left the wagon there.
"Fixing this stuff up is going to take quite a while," Mike told him.
"Yeah, I know. I'll have Matthew come down and help you take it apart so you can fix what needs it. I'm going looking for some paint while you do work on it. You keep track of what work you have in it and I'll trade or pay you in silver, okay?"
"Yes sir! That's my kind of work."
Ronnie's next stop was at the tanner's down in the valley to buy leather, and that man directed him to an Amish man who made horse harness. He left an order for a set of team harness and asked who might have work horses to sell? The harness maker sent him to a member of his community that had horses and needed to sell some. Property taxes would be due next Spring and he would rather not feed the extra horses through the winter. The team of ten year old Belgians, a mare and a gelding, were big and in good health, but they were not cheap. After some haggling, and seeing some real silver coins, the man sold them for the silver equivalent of $1,200. At the going rate of 15 to one, that came out to 320 silver quarters, or $80 face value of silver. The man gave him the horses' work collars and halters as part of the deal.
Ronnie hired Todd and his truck to pull Dan Billing's stock trailer and haul his new team home a week later wearing their brand new set of black harness. Since he had supplied the leather, the maker had charged him $65 in silver. Ronnie thought it was a fine deal and gave the man a $5 tip for good, fast work and his help finding the horses. The Amish man thanked him sincerely and invited him to come back if he wanted to do more trading. Ronnie suggested that he tell all the horse breeders that there would be a demand for their stock coming soon from small farmers like himself. _____________
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Post by nancy1340 on Oct 21, 2013 2:15:05 GMT -6
Thanks for the new chapter
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Post by papaof2 on Oct 21, 2013 8:48:28 GMT -6
When my wife's grandparents were still alive, we'd visit them several times each year (north Alabama) and I remember seeing bits of old machinery along fences and in sagging barns along the back roads there.
That would probably be an area that could come together as the people in this story are doing. There were always some cattle visible and Grandpa talked about who had hogs and chickens and who was raising which crops - so many of the pieces would be available.
If there are older gasoline tractors, they could be converted to wood gas if someone has the info and parts, although one conversion I saw basically used 30 and 50 gallon barrels (trash cans) and very simple plumbing. This should be a simple conversion, as tractors usually run at a steady speed appropriate to the task at hand.
Sent from my IdeaTabA2109A using proboards
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Post by patience on Oct 21, 2013 9:24:08 GMT -6
papaof2,
That's an idea that will come up soon, I'm sure. Somebody has a small sawmill running on wood gas in the valley nearby now.
CHAPTER 62, November, 2015
The steel stamping factory where Ed had worked last year had not called him back. He learned by the grapevine that the State didn't have the funding to last until they could make a profit, so it had apparently closed for good. It was unclear who owned it, the privately held stock company having bankrupted and dissolved after the crash.
Ed didn't miss going to work early every day. He had enough to do with the smal farm and tending his cattle. His shoemaking enterprise had picked up speed when he found an old leather stitching machine by way of the normal gossip at the farmer's market. Mike had helped him rig up a small gasoline engine to run it, so when he got enough shoe parts cut out and ready, he would fire it up and sew leather for a couple hours. I cut his time and thus what he had to charge for shoes and boots enough that he could compete easily with the Mexican imports. Christopher Reynolds was helping him one day a week with some of the work, so they were able to fill orders in a reasonable time.
With Joann's sewing, and her helping with the seed business, they were doing pretty well financially. The trailer was now snugly enclosed in the insulated shelter building, and they had gravity flow water from the cistern tank installed uphill from it. The shelter building was becoming a house, as Ed added improvements here and there, all heated by the wood stove Mike had built. There was even a bathroom in it now with a real flush toilet and the trailer was more roomy after Ed had taken out it's tiny bathroom and increased the size of the kitchen and dining areas.
Joann was sitting beside the stove mending some work clothes when Ed joined her with two cups of coffee, one of their few expensive indulgences. He sat one cup on the table beside her and said, "I really think a lot of you. I hope you know that."
She smiled and said, "I've known that for a long time now."
"I don't say it often enough, though. You deserve to hear it more often. I really do love you."
Joann laid aside her mending and stood to kiss him and give him a hug. "I love you, too. You're a good man Ed Wilson."
Ed's old white cat moved closer to the stove to keep his tail from being stepped on, and went back to sleep. __________________
Mike was busy in the reloading shed, filling an order for 100 rounds of .308 for Mel Sawyer. The case tumbler was busily working away, rattling as it cleaned and polished other empty cartridge brass. It was the only powered item in the shed, and driven by what used to be a decorative windmill from somebody's yard. Todd had found he could order imported bulk primers and powder, plus some kinds of ammunition through a gun shop in Clarksville, but the prices were high. That kept the reloading a money making proposition. Todd ordered enough at a time to get the best prices he could and had developed a good business reselling ammunition at the weekly market days.
Mike had enough shop work to keep him busy now and had added some things to reduce their spending. There was a calf to pasture on the back half of the clearing around his Dad's trailer where it could get to the pond for water. It kept most of the weeds down and would fill a lot of canning jars with beef soon.
Laura had planted grapes, strawberries, raspberries, horseradish, and rhubarb from starts she'd taken in trade for sewing. Mike had bought her a new Janome 712T treadle sewing machine only weeks before everything had crashed. True to his habit, he'd bought enough needles, bobbins, and parts to keep it running for a lifetime. He had mounted it in an old Singer treadle machine cabinet, and refinished it like new. She and Joann used it to keep their men in clothes and make some extra money.
There was a market for Mike's improved hand cranked clothes wringers, so he had improved his wood lathe to run off a 3 HP Honda engine that powered a light lineshaft into his shop. That ran his grinder, a table saw, old metal lathe, and some other equipment as needed, and it would run most of the day on a quart of gas. The wood lathe made it easy for him to turn out rolling pins, a popular market item. ________________
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Post by patience on Oct 23, 2013 7:07:02 GMT -6
Chapter 62, cont'd.
Mel Sawyer had been trapping for hides and meat, growing a huge garden and working a little here and there for income like Charlie Allen and Bob Clemmons, lately for Ronnie Nichols doing some logging.
"This kind of work gets harder all the time," Charlie told Mel as they were piling brush to burn.
"Yes it does," Mel said. "I need to find an easier way to make a buck."
"Yeah, me too. But what can an old guy do now? There just ain't that many ways to make an income. If we wasn't doing for ourselves with food and all, we couldn't make it now."
Mel looked serious as he said, "I've been thinkin' on it and there's no jobs for truck drivers now. I'm too old to be soldiering now. I figured that I'm not a farmer or a blacksmith or anything like that. Mostly what I'm good at is some gardening and cooking, and I got plenty of food. I was thinkin' to open a restaurant, but there's not much need of that. Then I got to thinkin' that people sure gobbled up those pies that Todd's girl took to market. Maybe I could set up with a kettle of Jambalaya, or Burgoo, or Chili, and do some good there. What do you think?"
"Well, it's gettin' on toward lunch time and I'm hungry so allow for that, but it sure sounds good. You want some help at this?"
"Prob'ly need some help. I'd have to see what I can make at it before I say what I could pay you."
Charlie said, "How about we work out something on shares? You know, pay me a percentage of what you make? That way you don't get hurt and I get paid for the amount of work I do, huh?"
Mel stopped and wiped sweat away, then said, "I think it's worth a try. It's gotta beat doin' this." ____________________
The mayor was at a loss for how to finance city government operations. Property ownership was at an all time low, so property taxes yielded very little. The water Department was unable to treat water to a drinkable standard and the State said they could only charge the industrial rate for non-potable water. The City Police Department had only the Chief as an employee for lack of funds, and trash collection was a thing of the past with fuel so expensive and truck maintenance impossible without repair parts. There was no city council now, everyone having abdicated those positions when pay wasn't forthcoming to try to survive. Street maintenance consisted of individuals going to the quarry and buying small amounts of crushed stone to patch the worst potholes. The quarry was on it's last legs again as State revenue for road repair had fallen.
But the mayor's wife had an idea. Tax the farmer's market. "After all, that is where the money is now. You're charging for booth space, but not nearly enough. There is no way to tell how much anybody sells, because it is all trading and cash, so all you can do is up the charges for booth space."
"But the Fairgrounds belongs to the County, not the City," he protested. 'I'm on thin ice there now."
"The County government doesn't exist, so do what you have to. I don't intend to starve when al those people are making money out there."
The mayor put up a large poster at the fairgrounds to the effect that booth space would be collected by a City official (him) and the rate was changed from one dollar to 5 dollars effective the next Saturday. Mass confusion resulted. Most of the poorer regulars couldn't afford the increase and immediately went home, wondering what to do. As customers milled around, a few of the bigger sellers paid the charge and set up their wares, but it was a much smaller affair. Many customers left after seeing the small selection of sellers.
Brent Collins, once a building contractor who now sold used building materials, spoke to each vendor in turn. He invited them out to his property, a mile north of town just off the highway. It was outside the City limits, so the mayor and his high charges could go hang. Brent would offer the use of outside space for a dollar each, and inside his huge pole barn for 2 dollars each. Everyone agreed to move there next Saturday. Brent asked all the sellers to spread the word to everyone. He planned to have someone posted near the fairgrounds to direct customers to his place.
The mayor went home despondent and told his wife he had collected even less than usual, because so many small vendors had left. His wife assured him they would be back the next Saturday, not to worry, and it would weed our the riff-raff, she said.
The following Saturday, Mel and Charlie set up their lunch booth at Brent's place, paying only a dollar for an outdoor space and did very well. A few vendors came in late, and a few were missing, but most had showed up. The trading was busier than usual, having mostly missed the past week, but now resumed smoothly. The mayor heard what happened, and was fuming at his wife that it was all her fault. Another source of City revenue was gone. Two weeks later, his wife had to go to the market to buy some necessities, because her husband refused to do the shopping there. He began to worry about his chances for reelection. ________________
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Post by idahobob on Oct 23, 2013 9:13:21 GMT -6
Politicians......
Hrrmmmph!
Bob III
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Post by papaof2 on Oct 23, 2013 10:15:38 GMT -6
That's why all political office should be for ONE TERM ONLY. If the person is worth his salt, he'll get things done. If not, at least he won't spend the second half of the term trying to get re-elected...
Sent from my IdeaTabA2109A using proboards
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Post by nancy1340 on Oct 23, 2013 15:58:42 GMT -6
Thank you.
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Post by patience on Oct 24, 2013 9:06:46 GMT -6
CHAPTER 63, December, 2015
In other parts of the country that still had natural gas and electricity, some industrial activity was restarting, although on a much smaller scale. Old automobile plants in Dayton, Ohio and around Indianapolis had begun making everything from engine gaskets to bathroom faucets. The selection was very limited and distribution was still a problem, but some items began to show up in general stores. Dollar General was one that had weathered the crash and the stalled recovery better than most and now expanded what they carried to include a little of everything, in many cases taking over adjoining empty buildings for more floor space.
One business that had boomed as a result of a lack of part supplies was junkyards. Although driving was down to maybe 5% of what it had once been, new cars were completely unaffordable and gathered dust in storage and car auction lots, old vehicles were being kept running if at all possible. Wes and Larry had begun to do some mechanic work at their farm shop. Most of it was on old farm equipment, but some vehicles, mostly pickup trucks, began to collect there waiting for repairs.
Farmers whose operations had survived had downsized and were trying to make their equipment last. A growing number were using animal power, convinced that things were not going to get a lot better for the machinery and fuel situation. Consequently, every old moldboard plow that once adorned a junk pile or fencerow was dragged out and put back into service, many of them taken apart to make single bottom plows for pulling with horses, mules, or oxen. Because neighbors had seen Wes and Larry's use of oxen, they got the business of doing many conversions of machinery. One of the most popular products was what the Amish called a fore cart. It was a simple 2 wheel affair like a heavy duty chariot with a rear hitch for pulling any drag style implement with a pin hitch. Rear axles from old cars and junk pickup trucks got used for this, with a long tongue and seats added of all descriptions. ________________
Vickie Hoskins had some income from Todd who rented the tillable 20 acres of her land, but that wasn't enough to make ends meet. After the devaluations and cuts to Social Security it was now only about 1/8th of what it had been. She made small amounts when somebody needed her medical skills, but that didn't amount to much. She and Mel Sawyer had been helping each other where they could, but with her big house to heat it made sense for her to move in with Mel and seek a renter for her house. The first tenant was a middle aged couple who only stayed a couple months until he found work elsewhere. Disappointed and needing the rent money, she advertised on the bulletin board at Brent Collins' on market days, and had Ed Wilson post another notice at the market in Brownstown. She'd had no response when the weather turned cold, so they closed the house up for the winter and she settled in to make herself useful to Mel. ________________
The demand for reloading had dropped after the first of cold weather, with hunting and butchering being finished for the season, so Mike Wilson turned his attention to cutting additional firewood and working on restoring an old windmill he had gotten in trade. It was an antique water pumper that he hoped to sell. He kept the wind powered tumbler busy polishing empty brass shells while he did other work.
Laura was busy making mincemeat to can, and helping Joann package seeds for sale. They had bought a stack of old magazines for practically nothing and were using the paper to make seed envelopes. Laura had a roll end of newsprint paper she was cutting for labels and gluing them on the envelopes with paste made from sifted and boiled wheat flour. Pens and pencils were a rare commodity, so she had made ink from pokeberry juice and used a quill pen made from a wild turkey feather. ________________
The pink stain Ronnie saw on the cut ends of some Ash logs was evidence of the Emerald Ash Borer, he'd been told. The Ash trees in his woods were dying, and something was afflicting the Tulip Poplar trees as well, causing them to bleed large amounts of sap from the leaves in late summer, then to drop their leaves early. Nobody seemed to know what was causing it and a lot of Poplar trees had already died in the past couple years. So, Ash and Poplar was what Ronnie was cutting now, trying to get what lumber he could out of the trees before the wood rotted. Most of the Ash went for firewood, in an attempt to keep the borer insects from spreading. The Poplar made good siding lumber for farm buildings and was sawed at the mill in the valley. The sawmill owner had an old diesel log truck he used to take logs to the mill. Ronnie made several trips with his horses and a farm wagon to get the lumber home.
Ronnie was concerned about getting enough nails to use what lumber he had cut, since nobody had them in stock. There was a rumor that nails were being made in northern Indiana, but so far it was just a rumor. He badly wanted to build a good hog house. He knew he could split pegs from Hickory to use instead of nails, but each hole had to be bored for the pegs and it would take ages to do that. He was greatly relieved on the Saturday before Christmas when he found new boxes of nails from China in the recently reopened hardware store. He was less than overjoyed at the prices. ______________
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