We made it through January. ….
We made it through January. I thought it would never end. Can you ever remember so many cloudy days? One right after another. I told Mark it reminded me of Mount “Cloudmore.” That was a word he made up years ago when I attended a newspaper conference in Phoenix, Ariz. We decided to drive and the newspaper association paid me the price of an airplane ticket. Florence and Mark accompanied me, planning a little scenic tour coming home.
One of the places we planned to visit was Mount Rushmore in the Black Hills. It’s where the faces of four presidents are carved in the rock.
Remember, this was a long time ago and Mark wasn’t very old. All went well until the day we planned to go through the Black Hills. Either the clouds were so low, or it was so foggy that no faces were in sight.
It was late in the day, so we picked a motel between Rapid City and the monument. After it got dark Mark and I drove back, hoping the clouds or fog had lifted. No such luck. We even tried the next morning before heading home. No luck again, which prompted Mark to say they shouldn’t call it Mount Rushmore, but Mount Cloudmore.
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I thought it had been a lot warmer than usual, but was surprised one day when the weatherman said January temperatures were close to normal. I guess that is probably right, as there has not been extreme warmth or cold. I did find a year ago when it had been 20 below. This year, it was 18 above. That would make for a 38-degree difference.
Another change that is getting noticeable is the sunrise/sunset times. When we started the new year, the sun didn’t appear until 7:41. Now it is up at 7:24. Sunset was about 4:30; now it is after 5. That will continue to grow until early March when daylight saving time will find us getting up in the dark again.
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This is another story from way back in time. Well, not as far as the one about the Cumberland Legion Post. This was from the “Looking Back” column in the Turtle Lake Times. The Jan. 9, 2003, issue had an item about someone bringing in a menu from Beno’s Supper Club in Turtle Lake.
If you are familiar with Turtle Lake, Beno’s was about where the entrance to the casino is. It was owned by Bernard and Frances Perrault and they were wellknown for their good food.
They were also well known for something else. Beno has a habit of picking up someone’s dollar bill lying on the bar. He’d pin it to the ceiling. When it was full, he’d take the dollars and buy televisions for the Sister Kenny Institute to put in the patients’ rooms. He even purchased an iron lung one time just from the dollar bills he picked off the bar. It was a fun place to go just to see the dollar bills grow on the bar ceiling.
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I get a kick out of looking at Facebook on the computer. Some people have a habit of putting on a picture and asking if anyone can remember it. The other day someone put a picture of a washing machine on — the kind with the wringer on it. I can’t call it old, as I remember my mom’s, which sat in the pantry. It had a wooden tub and was powered by a gas engine, not the small engine that sat under the washer. Her engine was one of those old ones with the big reservoir that you put water in to keep it cool.
Then changes began to take place. Mom had her ideas, but Dad wasn’t quick to act. So one day when Dad and my brother Ben were going ice fishing on Big Round Lake, near the Indian Village, she coaxed Ben to bring the crowbar in from the granary when Dad kept all his tools.
When they got home the wall was out, or at least enough Dad had to fix it. He moved the wall enough so the kitchen stove got moved to the new kitchen from the old kitchen/dining room. A large opening was made for the replaced stove pipe, so heat from the stove would help heat the dining room.
But wait, there was more to come. On the other side of the wall from the cook stove was Mom and Dad’s closet for their bedroom. They gained enough room for a pretty small bathroom, but it sure beat going outside to the outhouse.
There had to be a very small window above the bathtub, as too big a hole couldn’t be chopped in the log wall. The new bathtub sure beat trying to fit into the round wash tub that served us for many Saturday night baths.
I’m not sure how Dad worked out a drain for the wash water, as the basement had no drain, just a dirt floor, but a small cement pad worked to hold the washer. The old wooden tub washer now had a small electric motor installed and away it went on wash day. I recall carrying many baskets of wet clothes up the outside basement stairs and out to the clotheslines.
Whatever happened to the old gas engine is a mystery to me. I’m guessing Dad sold it to someone.
