Tag: memories

Nostalgia filled puzzle

Post author By pastorkelvin
Post date January 26, 2024

A picture that evokes memories

Puzzle season is in full swing at our house. I just finished this gem. It is a favorite these days because it reminds me of so many things from my childhood. Take, for example, the big stove. While the style of this stove is from an earlier generation, we had a wood stove in the kitchen when I was growing up. I helped split wood for it as a teenager. (The pieces for our stove needed to be half the size of the chunks in the picture too.) I remember eating pancakes cooked on that stove quite often. They were a favorite noontime food at our farmhouse. The stove in the picture has a separate opening in the front where wood can be inserted. Our stove did not. Wood was inserted through the round grate on the top. I remember distinctly the tool that went in that little rectangular hole in the top circular grate. One night my mother used it as a prop for a spiritual lesson for her teenage son. She noted how she used that stove poker, as we called it, for so many things. Its manufactured purpose was to lift the hot grates. But we used it also to stoke the stove, moving the pieces of wood wherever they needed to be. It was just a handy little thing. Mom pointed out a lesson that I have never forgotten. If we would allow ourselves to be used by God for his good purposes, whatever that might be, we would be fulfilling our destiny as Christian people. No theologian ever defined sanctification better (Romans 12:1,2).

The oil lamp on the table tells me that the time period of this picture is pre-electricity on the farm. So that would be pre World War II, perhaps during the Depression. By the time I grew up, those oil lamps were already considered antiques, brought out only when the electricity went out. But I still have a couple myself. Yet now that flashlights with good batteries have become ubiquitous, I have not used the old lamps in years. (Is that an oil cloth tablecloth on the table under it?)

As I look out the window in the picture, I notice the tracks in the snow to the barn. The name of this 1000 piece puzzle from White Mountain Puzzles is Country Breakfast. I remember from my childhood farm days that work on the farm commenced before breakfast. The tracks evidence that the farmer in the picture has already been to the barn and spent time there before coming in hungry and ready for a Country Breakfast. The “arctics,” those big black boots with buckles now drying by the stove on the floor, had already been used that morning, making tracks to the barn and back. My father had usually spent at least two hours at the barn before breakfast. As a teen, sometimes in the spring I would be expected to help with those morning chores, and I remember how hungry I was by breakfast.

Of course, there’s the maple syrup on the table too. Farmers often made their own as we did. I remember helping to gather the sweet sap from the trees and helping to feed the fire underneath the boiling pan of sap as my father tended it faithfully to keep it from scorching, something that would ruin the taste. One of my earliest memories is of the year that the spring was too wet for the small tractors of the early 50’s to handle the muddy ruts in the woods. So, my grandfather and my father had rented a team of workhorses to handle the task of gathering sap. I was allowed to “ride” along, meaning hop on the wooden sled with the tank that transported the collected sap to the syrup shanty where it was boiled down.

Did I mention the rug on the floor. My grandmother had several of those braided round or oval rugs. Today you can buy replicas of them, but they are not truly interwoven, only braids stitched together. In the originals, the braids were woven into one another by hand. They were a very sturdy handwork, and a practical way of recycling worn out clothes. They were compromised usually only because someone had chosen a too worn-out or a less durable cloth from which to make a strip.

Even the construction of the room brings back memories. Notice the old wainscoting and chair rail behind the table under the window. Our farmhouse kitchen still had some wainscoting remaining during my childhood.

Well, I think you can see why I like the puzzle. Every time I study it, another memory comes back from the bank of nostalgia, tagged by some detail in the picture. That’s what makes this one so delightful.

Tags Farmers, jigsaw puzzles, memories, puzzles, woodstoves

Americana Journal Who Am I

The January challenge

Post author By pastorkelvin
Post date January 13, 2022

Jigsaw puzzle of wild turkeys — This puzzle is titled “The Challenge” for more than one reason

January is jigsaw puzzle season at the Jones household. I don’t know if it’s the cold outside or just that we need a change of pace from the business of Christmas. But each year when January rolls around, we dig out our stored boxes and pick some of our favorites. Sometimes we have dueling puzzle tables. I spread out a puzzle challenge on the old wooden table in the family room and JoAnne puts a puzzle out on the end of the dining room table. JoAnne always begins with a puzzle that she has had since she was a girl for old time sake, even though it has a missing piece.

Old time puzzle challenge — JoAnne’s favorite puzzle from childhood

I usually begin the season with a Christmas puzzle with children in it as I think of the grandchildren and their Christmas activities.

But soon we move to more challenging ones. We keep track of the number of puzzles we complete and the total number of pieces involved each year. This year we each had a new puzzle to work on that presented bigger challenges. Mine was the one pictured above. It was titled, “The challenge“ for more than one reason. The cut was such that the edge pieces were not always obvious. What do these three pieces have in common?

Three edge pieces — Can you believe these are all edge pieces.

JoAnne worked on a puzzle featuring stamps from all the 50 states. As you can see it required a rather unique type of organization in order for it to be completed. She loves comparing pieces to the box picture and her new puzzle was ideal for that type of puzzle work.

Puzzle process — Puzzle solving process for stamp puzzle called “Greetings from”

Tags memories, puzzles, winter pastime

Journal Joy Notes Who Am I

Homemade tree ornaments tell a story

Post author By pastorkelvin
Post date December 14, 2017

Tags Christmas, Christmas ornaments, homemade, memories

Americana Journal Wisdom

Family times are times when knowledge is passed down

Post author By pastorkelvin
Post date July 2, 2017

Last week I took time for a walk up into the woods. The woods that I normally walk is filled with beautiful stands of oak, but on this particular noontime walk I happen to notice that there were many smaller black birch trees scattered in the hilltop area where I had stopped to half sit, half lean against a loaded-pallet sized boulder to rest.

I was suddenly taken back in my mind to a walk that I had taken with my family as a boy. Occasionally we picnicked in a deep wide ravine which we called Tough Gully. One day as we were hiking back up out of the gully from our picnic, my father pointed out a large black birch tree with branches hanging over into the field where we were walking. He plucked some twigs and told us to chew them because they would taste like root beer. I did.

Now on this day, more than 50 years later, I suddenly remembered and I walked over to the nearest black birch and knocked down a twig from its 9 foot perch with my walking stick and began to chew it, and, sure enough, it tasted like root beer! Thanks, Dad for the memory and the lesson. I’m sure such demonstrations are one of the reasons I know what a black birch tree is today and how its twigs taste. I snapped a picture of my twig with the tender bark gnawed away.

On the way down the hill from my walk I saw a young man walking up and I thought he might think it strange to see me chewing on a twig. So I explained what was going on. He gave me the strangest look.

I wondered to myself. Who in my family will know this little piece of forest lore when I am gone? Not that it is an earthshaking or survival-crucial fact. But how many other tidbits like it will fall forgotten when my generation passes? And how much practical info must have already fallen forgotten when the generations before us have gone on?

I thought about how important it is to spend somewhat unstructured time with future generations. For as things come up in life experience or in conversation, it is then that we in the older generation have an opportunity to pass on something that we have learned or that was passed on to us. Some of it might be interesting trivia, like enjoying the root beer tastes of a black birch twig. But something else more weighty that we share might someday become crucial for the emotional or spiritual or even physical survival of someone we love. Chewing on the memory made me value all the more the time I get to spend with my daughter and son-in-law and grandchildren.

Tags family, memories, nature

Americana Journal Who Am I

A 1921 Truck

Post author By pastorkelvin
Post date September 10, 2014

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A few weeks ago I stopped by the Hartford County 4-H Fair to see the exhibit of one of the families in our congregation. Griffin and Connor were working hard and doing great with their animals. Their grandma, Carol, a former 4-H organizer, took me around and introduced me to some of her friends. I love fairs anyway as they bring back memories. I exhibited Guernsey cattle at the Steuben County Fair in Bath NY as a teenager, both in the 4-H and open division. Many nights, I also watched over all the cattle our farm sent to the fair—memories. JoAnne and I dated at fairs.

While I was walking around at the Hartford 4-H Fair I came across another exhibit that I found fascinating. Bob Whittier was exhibiting his partially restored 1921 Republic truck. I chatted with him for a while and learned, for example, that the original headlamps still work. I also learned that the truck was the main source of transportation for the US military in WWI at which time they were called Liberty Trucks. He cranked up (literally) the engine and it purred. He plans further restoration of the roof.

Tags fairs, memories, old trucks

Americana Journal Joy Notes Who Am I

A Maple Syrupy Memory

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On the last day of our recent week of vacation, my wife and I stopped at a Maple Syrup Museum on Route 7 just north of Rutland, Vermont. It was a fascinating stop for me as it brought back many childhood memories. The museum contains many artifacts from the production of maple syrup in the late 19^th and 20^th centuries. An entire wall mural was dedicated to telling the story of the production of syrup by the Native Americans of New England before settlers arrived. This fascinating dimension of the history of the maple syrup industry was new to me and I was glad to see it featured prominently. One of the most captivating displays was a hand-carved diorama depicting the gathering of maple sap using a team of horses and a sled with gathering tank on top. In the same diorama is a representation of a sap-boiling shanty in the woods. The first 3 pictures above are of this diorama. The last two pictures are from an even bigger diorama depicting lumbering before tractor power. The museum is a great stop for maple lovers and those who remember making syrup.

I have a very early childhood memory of assisting in the gathering of sap on the top of the hill above Twin Elms Farm. Deep in the woods plot, there was an old shed devoted to boiling sap in the spring. My father and grandfather had traded the horses for a tractor the year I was born. But, for the spring that I remember, it was too muddy in the woods to use the tractor for gathering sap. Early tractors were not the behemoths we are used to today. So my grandfather and father made arrangements to borrow a team of horses and use them to pull the sled and gathering tank. I remember riding the sled with its metal gathering tank on top from the house up to the top of the hill and into the woods. I recall the old wooden tank next to the boiling shed into which the gathered sap was dumped from the gathering tank. I remember the old arch, as it was called, inside the shed. It was simply two rows of concrete blocks, just wide enough apart to fit the large pans on the top. The two pans were placed end to end on the arch. The long slabs or poles of wood we burned were inserted into the arch underneath the pans at one end. The fire and heat traveled the length of the two pans– which must’ve been 10-12 feet — and the smoke exited through a stack at the far end. The freshest sap was inserted in the pan nearest the chimney, the cooler one; the boiled-down syrup was removed from the first pan, the hotter one. We did not use wooden buckets, as the diorama pictures, but galvanized metal ones instead.

This old syrup shanty on the hill was deserted before many years had passed. After that, my father continued boiling sap on a smaller scale in a single pan over a smaller arch. I remember helping and trying to keep it clean and light colored. I have many other memories that go with the traditions of maple syrup making at Twin Elms Farm too. I remember loving to drink the sap straight from the tree. I would go down to the maple tree in the front lawn and tip the sap bucket to get a drink. There was just a hint of delicious flavored sweetness.

After the sap had been boiled down in the pans over the arches, my mom would “finish off” the syrup over the kitchen stove. I don’t remember seeing it happen, but I was told that sometimes this released so much moisture that the wallpaper had come loose. She poured milk into the syrup to help boil out the impurities. I sometimes tasted the creamy, foamy skimmings, though I don’t think Mom approved of that. I remember each year we would have a contest at stirring maple sugar. Mom would boil down some syrup even further until it was just the right consistency for making sugar candy. I think it was right when it would spin a hair from the spoon. Then she would ladle it into bowls and we would begin stirring our bowlful. The faster you stirred, the lighter colored and finer textured your sugar would be. That was the goal. Of course, the most delightful part was eating it. I preferred eating it while it was soft and still do. JoAnne learned about stirring maple sugar while she was dating me. She learned to love eating it too and still does, much more than me. I bought her some at the museum.

At the Vermont museum they had taste samples of different grades of maple syrup. I checked them out! I remember during maple syrup season on the farm, once in a while, Mom would serve us a small dish of maple syrup for dessert– nothing with it — just served to eat with the spoon. I loved it and I still can eat maple syrup by itself. Mom also prepared syrup for us to pour on snow if the weather made snow available. This was also a delightful candy treat. We called it wax.

The museum had maple cream to sample also, which is the most delicious stuff ever, but correspondingly expensive. As we left the museum, JoAnne and I just wanted to find a restaurant that served pancakes with the real thing—maple syrup—for a topping! At home, we never ate pancakes any other way.

Tags maple syrup, memories, summer fun, vacation

Americana Journal

A family memory

Post author By pastorkelvin
Post date April 30, 2014

Family memories are often attached to old vehicles

This antique Packard belongs to Steve, a neighbor of mine. It reminds me of a story my Mom used to tell. When she was a girl, probably a young teen, she was taught to drive a car in order to help on the farm. He father instructed her how to pull hay up into the mow with it. I think it was a Maxwell. Cars in the 1920’s, the era this car is from, were often put to work on the farm. I’ve heard stories (I can’t remember where) of a rear tire being removed from an old car and a belt somehow put on to drive a saw. Steve found an original engine for this car in another old Packard that had been used as a tractor. Much of the interior work on this car is leather. Steve pointed out that many parts were hand-made, not mass-produced in that era.

Tags American history, antiques, memories

Americana Journal Who Am I

Dating at the Fair

Post author By pastorkelvin
Post date September 30, 2013

Keeping a tradition

One of the first dates I asked JoAnne to go on was to the Steuben County Fair. We remember eating spaghetti at an Italian stand where I learned how to twirl spaghetti on my fork against a spoon rather than cut it up. After that, one of our annual dates was a trip to the New York State Fair. While we lived in Syracuse, we kept this tradition going by visiting the fair annually. We love ogling all the exhibits. JoAnne seeks out the needlework shows since that is one of her hobbies. I love the farm animal and farm equipment exhibits because of my farm upbringing. Both of us enjoy historical and travel exhibits and some vendors exhibits, though there are always more of these latter type than anyone can handle. We admit, we missed our traditional trip to the NYS Fair this year. But when we heard about the Big E, an exposition for all six New England states, we jumped at the chance to go. Maybe this would be much like the Fair.

The Big E

JoAnne and I arrived through gate 10 in the late morning on Friday, Sept. 27. It was about the only day we were free to go. But the weather was perfect and it was the day the big horses were showing –perfect for me. We start with the nearest farm building which today houses an eclectic collection of alpacas, goats, and sheep. We ask a question or two of an alpaca keeper and go through the wool exhibit too. Outside is the butter sculpture. Now there is a memory—

Tags big E, family traditions, memories, state fair

Journal Joy Notes Who Am I

A Thanksgiving Tribute to My Mom

Post author By pastorkelvin
Post date November 22, 2012

November 20^th, my Mom, Dorothy I. Jones, went to be with her Savior. She had turned 90 in August. Though she had been declining for months as a consequence of slow congestive heart failure, the end happened quite suddenly and unexpectedly. I’ve been working on this Thanksgiving tribute to Mom for a couple days. Also, here’s a link to her obituary.

Obituary for Dorothy I. Jones

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I’m thankful for our phone conversations

When I think of my Mom, one of the first blessings that comes to mind is our phone conversations. The chain of them began when I was a freshman at the University of Rochester. Late at night I would sit at the hallway telephone and talk to Mom. Our conversations have never been short and that habit goes back to that year too. Recent years I would get on my cell phone while sitting in my big chair and converse. It was not unusual to be an hour on the phone. We covered a lot of subjects; family news, farm news, church news and upcoming schedules. But Mom also talked about Bible verses she was studying or teaching from, articles or books she had read, things from gardening in the summer and feeding birds in the winter, and even news items of note—she loved Paul Harvey especially. I will miss those conversations.

I’m thankful for her prayers

Another great blessing from my Mom was her prayer life.

Tags family, family traditions, memories, Mom, Thanksgiving

Journal Who Am I

Arkport Class reunion

Post author By pastorkelvin
Post date July 12, 2011

Great evening! Lots of laughs! Cousin Ken Isaman is a great emcee and stand-up comedian and gets lots of help from our class. He and Shirley Kilbury Chapman did a superb job organizing our 45^th class reunion of Arkport Central class of 1966 at Club 57 near Hornell, NY. JoAnne went with me and knew many of my classmates since she spent childhood summers in Arkport at her grandparent’s house and as children several of my friends sometimes went to her grandparents to play with her older brother, Joe. It’s a shame how much one forgets, but getting together helps refresh the memory. For example, I remembered that Bev Morgan was a key player in the class auction preparations (sophomore year, I think) and also a member of our Youth for Christ Club but I totally forgot that Roger Griffin played trombone too along with John Callahan and I. Ken distributed gag gifts. Mine was a skeleton puzzle. He said it was fitting for the class science brain and besides, I probably didn’t have any skeletons in my closet so now I could have one! It was a great evening and I’m looking forward to the next reunion in five years.

Tags Arkport, class reunion, memories

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