Well, O.K. maybe not, but that was the title of it on the internet when I found it and I am inclined to agree. It makes about 6 dozen cookies. That means we can have some to eat, and I can still stash some in the freezer. After I made it the first time I was sold! and won't go back, no I won't go back to the old recipe on the back of the bag!
Imagine my joy when after Mother passed away, I found this exact same recipe in one of her recipe boxes, cut out of a magazine or a newspaper. She knew the secret all along........
AWARD WINNING SOFT CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES
4-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
2 t. baking soda
2 cups butter, softened
1-1/2 cups packed brown sugar
1/2 cup white sugar
2 (3.4 oz.) pkgs instant vanilla pudding mix
4 eggs
2 t. vanilla extract
4 cups semisweet chocolate chips
2 cups chopped nuts (optional)
Preheat oven to 350 degrees
Sift together the flour and baking soda; set aside.
In a large bowl, cream together the butter, brown sugar, white sugar, and beat in instant pudding mix until blended.
Stir in the eggs and vanilla.
Blend in the flour mixture.
Finally, stir in the chocolate chips and nuts.
Drop cookies by rounded teaspoons onto ungreaased cookied sheets. Bake for 10-12 min.
Edges should be a little brown.
ENJOY!
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Pioneer Moments
Saturday was Angel Food Ministries Day. Every month, we have people of every socio-economic level come in to buy Angel Food. Once and awhile one will share a story of how without it, they wouldn’t have enough to eat for the month. We have a similar story in our own family, only God provided the Angel. Every family has stories of hardship, and “pioneer moments”; ours is no different.
The following is an excerpt from the “written” family history of Adam and Anna Wolf whom Mother was named after; Anna Mae Wolf Horack Roseberry(whew).
Great Grandma Anna Wolf
Great Grandpa Adam and Great Grandma Anna Wolf were both born in Germany, but were brought to America as very young children by their parents who settled in Illinois. Adam and Anna would move west to Kansas where they would homestead south and east of Wichita around the South Haven area close to a tiny town called Portland. When Adam and Anna Wolf first moved to their homestead, they lived in a dugout. Later they built a small shanty being about 12X14, and still later, built a house, a barn, and a milk house.
The shanty, that they later used as a chicken house
Adam and Anna Wolf and thier children at the house they eventually built
They eventually obtained their land under the Homestead Act of 1862, which stipulated a head of household who was at least 21 years of age could obtain 160 acres of public land by “proving up.” (Wouldn’t the lawyers have a heyday with that terminology today!?!) The requirement for “proving up” meant the homesteader had to live on the land, build a home, make improvements, and farm for five years. It cost a total of $18 to homestead—a $10 filing fee and $2 for the land agent at the time the land was applied for and $6 at the time of “proving up.” In lieu of living on the land for five years, homesteaders were given the option of purchasing the land for $1.25 an acre after they had lived on it for six months. Adam Wolf and Anna purchased their land in this manner; it cost $200 to purchase the homestead.
Now, in order to secure enough money to pay for his land and buy the supplies to feed animals and his family, Adam returned to St. Louis Missouri, a distance of 400 miles from home, to work as a waiter in a hotel.
During this time Anna, and at least two of the children, remained on the homestead in Kansas. Adam would send her money and write her letters, which the post master had to read to her, as she could not read English. For some reason, she ran out of money, the corn and grain for the livestock ran out and she also ran out of food for her children and herself. There was nothing else to do but seek help from neighbors. Leaving the children at home by themselves, she walked over 3 miles to a neighbor and tried to explain to the man in her broken English, which was in actuality more German than English, her situation. His response to her was, “You are young and strong, and you will make it and be just fine. Just go on home.”, and gave her nothing.
She continued to walk an additional half mile to the farm of John Fredrickson and asked for his help. Mr. Fredrickson loaded corn, wheat and oats for the animals, and what food he could spare in the wagon and took Anna home.
Anna never forgot the kindness of Mr. Fredrickson at a time of desperately needing help and being destitute. When she related the story many years later to her then daughter-in-law, Grandma Amy Wolf, she told her that she owed her life to Amy’s UNCLE John Fredrickson for his help and kindness to her during this season of her life. Yes, our Grandma Amy Wolf’s uncle John was the one that extended the hand of compassion and kindness to the family that would later become his nieces’ own family.
Adam and Anna Wolf had 10 children, two of whom died in infancy, (Christian, and Elizabeth). They were married for 62 years. Adam died at 86 years of age and Anna died at 87 years of age.
During these days when families are struggling financially, and some are losing their homes and “our metal is being tested”, this is a story to bear in mind. This is our heritage, this is “us”.
The following is an excerpt from the “written” family history of Adam and Anna Wolf whom Mother was named after; Anna Mae Wolf Horack Roseberry(whew).
Great Grandma Anna Wolf
Great Grandpa Adam and Great Grandma Anna Wolf were both born in Germany, but were brought to America as very young children by their parents who settled in Illinois. Adam and Anna would move west to Kansas where they would homestead south and east of Wichita around the South Haven area close to a tiny town called Portland. When Adam and Anna Wolf first moved to their homestead, they lived in a dugout. Later they built a small shanty being about 12X14, and still later, built a house, a barn, and a milk house. The shanty, that they later used as a chicken house
Adam and Anna Wolf and thier children at the house they eventually built
They eventually obtained their land under the Homestead Act of 1862, which stipulated a head of household who was at least 21 years of age could obtain 160 acres of public land by “proving up.” (Wouldn’t the lawyers have a heyday with that terminology today!?!) The requirement for “proving up” meant the homesteader had to live on the land, build a home, make improvements, and farm for five years. It cost a total of $18 to homestead—a $10 filing fee and $2 for the land agent at the time the land was applied for and $6 at the time of “proving up.” In lieu of living on the land for five years, homesteaders were given the option of purchasing the land for $1.25 an acre after they had lived on it for six months. Adam Wolf and Anna purchased their land in this manner; it cost $200 to purchase the homestead. Now, in order to secure enough money to pay for his land and buy the supplies to feed animals and his family, Adam returned to St. Louis Missouri, a distance of 400 miles from home, to work as a waiter in a hotel.
During this time Anna, and at least two of the children, remained on the homestead in Kansas. Adam would send her money and write her letters, which the post master had to read to her, as she could not read English. For some reason, she ran out of money, the corn and grain for the livestock ran out and she also ran out of food for her children and herself. There was nothing else to do but seek help from neighbors. Leaving the children at home by themselves, she walked over 3 miles to a neighbor and tried to explain to the man in her broken English, which was in actuality more German than English, her situation. His response to her was, “You are young and strong, and you will make it and be just fine. Just go on home.”, and gave her nothing.
She continued to walk an additional half mile to the farm of John Fredrickson and asked for his help. Mr. Fredrickson loaded corn, wheat and oats for the animals, and what food he could spare in the wagon and took Anna home.
Anna never forgot the kindness of Mr. Fredrickson at a time of desperately needing help and being destitute. When she related the story many years later to her then daughter-in-law, Grandma Amy Wolf, she told her that she owed her life to Amy’s UNCLE John Fredrickson for his help and kindness to her during this season of her life. Yes, our Grandma Amy Wolf’s uncle John was the one that extended the hand of compassion and kindness to the family that would later become his nieces’ own family.
Adam and Anna Wolf had 10 children, two of whom died in infancy, (Christian, and Elizabeth). They were married for 62 years. Adam died at 86 years of age and Anna died at 87 years of age.
During these days when families are struggling financially, and some are losing their homes and “our metal is being tested”, this is a story to bear in mind. This is our heritage, this is “us”.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Waste Not, Want Not
Having grown up with a “depression era” Mom, we learned about recycling at a very early age. You didn’t throw anything away. We washed the bread sacks, and reused them, washed the aluminum foil and reused it, paper grocery sacks lined the trash can, and before it was all over, Mother was even using the empty plastic bag inside the cereal box to place between her meat patties, or pork chops or steaks to put in the freezer.“It doesn’t tear when it gets wet like wax paper does!”, she would say in response to my rolling my eyes at what seemed to be this extreme of “savings”.
Keeping butter containers, cottage cheese containers, any plastic container with a lid was a given, and when we moved Mother out of her house, we girls couldn’t help but laugh at the number of cottage cheese containers we found stacked up and ready for use in her cupboards. We teased Audrey at the time that we would keep all those as part of her dowry when she decided to marry.
Well, I am here to confess that the dowry is intact, and Mother would have burst with pride if she had been here to see what I discovered in my attic the other day. What I was doing in my attic is another story, but it led me to unearth a particular box, dusty, and dirty but closed tightly against the 16 years of accumulation of filth. As I pulled the box from beneath the others stacked upon it, I questioned myself about its contents. After all, I had been the one to fill it and seal it, and place it in the attic. What in the world could it be?
Imagine my relief, amazement, and sheer hysteria when I opened the box to discover several stacks of, you got it, plastic containers! Cottage cheese, ice cream, whipped topping, butter, you name it, and I’d saved it!
For one split second I seriously thought about resealing it, and placing it back in the attic for my children to some day run across and………..yea, you get it, and they would have too. However,upon closer inspection, the containers, after being exposed to extremes of the attic were stiff, and brittle, and not worth much, thus I pitched them. I couldn’t help but shake my head and laugh at the fact that for years that box of plastic containers had been in my attic paying homage to the fact that I DID recycle just like my mama had taught me. I was ready to deal with any surplus that came along. The reason they were in the attic, was because at the time of the move, I had enough recycled plastic containers in my kitchen cupboards that the multitude in the box were considered surplus!
I called my sister Anita to share with her that I had finally found the hidden family treasure of such great value; we both got a good laugh. But underneath, we also knew that the containers were just an outward sign of an inward lesson we had learned growing up with Mama: Don’t be wasteful!
Keeping butter containers, cottage cheese containers, any plastic container with a lid was a given, and when we moved Mother out of her house, we girls couldn’t help but laugh at the number of cottage cheese containers we found stacked up and ready for use in her cupboards. We teased Audrey at the time that we would keep all those as part of her dowry when she decided to marry.
Well, I am here to confess that the dowry is intact, and Mother would have burst with pride if she had been here to see what I discovered in my attic the other day. What I was doing in my attic is another story, but it led me to unearth a particular box, dusty, and dirty but closed tightly against the 16 years of accumulation of filth. As I pulled the box from beneath the others stacked upon it, I questioned myself about its contents. After all, I had been the one to fill it and seal it, and place it in the attic. What in the world could it be?
Imagine my relief, amazement, and sheer hysteria when I opened the box to discover several stacks of, you got it, plastic containers! Cottage cheese, ice cream, whipped topping, butter, you name it, and I’d saved it!
For one split second I seriously thought about resealing it, and placing it back in the attic for my children to some day run across and………..yea, you get it, and they would have too. However,upon closer inspection, the containers, after being exposed to extremes of the attic were stiff, and brittle, and not worth much, thus I pitched them. I couldn’t help but shake my head and laugh at the fact that for years that box of plastic containers had been in my attic paying homage to the fact that I DID recycle just like my mama had taught me. I was ready to deal with any surplus that came along. The reason they were in the attic, was because at the time of the move, I had enough recycled plastic containers in my kitchen cupboards that the multitude in the box were considered surplus!
I called my sister Anita to share with her that I had finally found the hidden family treasure of such great value; we both got a good laugh. But underneath, we also knew that the containers were just an outward sign of an inward lesson we had learned growing up with Mama: Don’t be wasteful!
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Why I keep meals in the freezer........
O.K. I am officially sick. Ear ache, stopped up head, and sore throat; can you say THE PITTS!
This is one of those “freezer meal” times. Fortunately I roasted a chicken earlier this fall, and after cutting what meat I could off the bones I boiled the bones,(O.K., I have to interject something here. THIS is a true Mother, depression era thing to do, boiling bones. It removes all the little tidbits of meat off those bones, and if you don't add too much water, makes more rich chicken broth. I have seen women take turkey and chicken carcasses after a meal with a goodly amount of meat on them and throw them away, I cringe, because my mama taught me not to waste that meat, or the good broth that comes from those bones, and bits of meat). I then added the broth from the roasted chicken to the liquid from the boiled bones, and put it over the meat in the container, and froze the whole thing. Thus, all I needed to do was thaw it, bring the whole thing to a boil, and add the noodles. I then fixed instant mashed potatoes (yes I said instant, this is not a sin, especially when you feel like I do), and TAADAA! Chicken and noodles!
Not to brag, but anyone who has had my roasted chicken will tell you it is outstanding, and it is all in the Sweet Basil Rub that goes on before the roasting. It is a recipe I found on the back of a Butterball Roasting Hen I bought. I tried it, and haven’t roasted a chicken or turkey without it since. Like I said it is the best. Word to the wise; don't start with anything less than a 5 lb. bird.
Here is the recipe:
Sweet Basil Rub
1 T. Salt (can reduce, if wish, but not too much)
2 t. Sugar
¼ t. Garlic Powder (not garlic salt)
¼ t. Onion Powder (not onion salt)
¼ t. paprika
1/2 T. Lemon Juice
½ t. Black Pepper
1 T. Whole Basil
2 T. Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Mix salt, sugar, garlic, onion, paprika and lemon juice together. Next, add black pepper, basil and olive oil. Mix into paste. Rub paste(with your hands)over washed and patted dry hen, inside and out.
For the best gravy, save drippings from roasting pan.
Now to cook the bird
1.Preheat the oven to 350
2.Remove giblets
3.Wash and rinse bird, pat dry
4.Rub with Sweet Basil Rub
5.Place bird breast side down, (yes, I said down, your white meat will be moister) and tent foil over; remove for last 10 min. of cooking to brown nicely.
6.Roast in oven to an internal temp of 170 degrees or till juices run clear.
7.Remove roaster, allow bird to stand 10 min. (actually the bird is past standing at this point, so just let it lay there :) before carving.
For every 1 lb. of bird weight cook approximately 20-25 min.
5 lbs – 1 ¾ hrs.
5 ½ lb.s – 2 hrs.
6 lbs.- 2 ¼ hrs. etc.
If you are not going to serve the bird right away and want to make chicken and noodles, remove all meat from the bone and place in a freezer safe dish. Then take the larger bones, place in large kettle, and JUST cover with water; bring to boil. Cool, and add drippings from the chicken roaster, pour all over the meat in the freezer dish, cool completely and freeze. I use those noodles in the bread isle, the ones that are the closest thing to homemade I can find. There is a awesome brand of potato buds that I find at Sam's that are the next best thing to real mashed potatoes. The company that makes them is from Idaho--need I say more?
This is one of those “freezer meal” times. Fortunately I roasted a chicken earlier this fall, and after cutting what meat I could off the bones I boiled the bones,(O.K., I have to interject something here. THIS is a true Mother, depression era thing to do, boiling bones. It removes all the little tidbits of meat off those bones, and if you don't add too much water, makes more rich chicken broth. I have seen women take turkey and chicken carcasses after a meal with a goodly amount of meat on them and throw them away, I cringe, because my mama taught me not to waste that meat, or the good broth that comes from those bones, and bits of meat). I then added the broth from the roasted chicken to the liquid from the boiled bones, and put it over the meat in the container, and froze the whole thing. Thus, all I needed to do was thaw it, bring the whole thing to a boil, and add the noodles. I then fixed instant mashed potatoes (yes I said instant, this is not a sin, especially when you feel like I do), and TAADAA! Chicken and noodles!
Not to brag, but anyone who has had my roasted chicken will tell you it is outstanding, and it is all in the Sweet Basil Rub that goes on before the roasting. It is a recipe I found on the back of a Butterball Roasting Hen I bought. I tried it, and haven’t roasted a chicken or turkey without it since. Like I said it is the best. Word to the wise; don't start with anything less than a 5 lb. bird.
Here is the recipe:
Sweet Basil Rub
1 T. Salt (can reduce, if wish, but not too much)
2 t. Sugar
¼ t. Garlic Powder (not garlic salt)
¼ t. Onion Powder (not onion salt)
¼ t. paprika
1/2 T. Lemon Juice
½ t. Black Pepper
1 T. Whole Basil
2 T. Extra Virgin Olive Oil
Mix salt, sugar, garlic, onion, paprika and lemon juice together. Next, add black pepper, basil and olive oil. Mix into paste. Rub paste(with your hands)over washed and patted dry hen, inside and out.
For the best gravy, save drippings from roasting pan.
Now to cook the bird
1.Preheat the oven to 350
2.Remove giblets
3.Wash and rinse bird, pat dry
4.Rub with Sweet Basil Rub
5.Place bird breast side down, (yes, I said down, your white meat will be moister) and tent foil over; remove for last 10 min. of cooking to brown nicely.
6.Roast in oven to an internal temp of 170 degrees or till juices run clear.
7.Remove roaster, allow bird to stand 10 min. (actually the bird is past standing at this point, so just let it lay there :) before carving.
For every 1 lb. of bird weight cook approximately 20-25 min.
5 lbs – 1 ¾ hrs.
5 ½ lb.s – 2 hrs.
6 lbs.- 2 ¼ hrs. etc.
If you are not going to serve the bird right away and want to make chicken and noodles, remove all meat from the bone and place in a freezer safe dish. Then take the larger bones, place in large kettle, and JUST cover with water; bring to boil. Cool, and add drippings from the chicken roaster, pour all over the meat in the freezer dish, cool completely and freeze. I use those noodles in the bread isle, the ones that are the closest thing to homemade I can find. There is a awesome brand of potato buds that I find at Sam's that are the next best thing to real mashed potatoes. The company that makes them is from Idaho--need I say more?
Sunday, February 1, 2009
The Gin Game
Roger and I watched the movie The Gin Game last night.
I had seen the original taping of the Broadway Play staring Hume Cronyn and Jessica Tandy years before when we still lived at Rinker; yea that was a loooong time ago. I remember laughing at it, but didn’t remember the story other than it was about two elderly people living in a retirement home who played game after game of gin rummy. She kept beating him, and his frustration, albeit expressed mostly with swear words, was comical. That remembered, I rented it.
Funny what time and experiences do to your perception of something? There are many poignant moments in the movie, downright sad if you are my age, and have taken care of an elderly parent. Mother had many of the same conversations with other residents that she lived with at the manor, and when she was in the rehab center we both saw firsthand the things depicted in the film; odd there didn’t seem to be that much humor in them, either when they are happening, or being observed.
One thing I noticed this time that completely escaped me the first time was the utter frustration they both expressed at their circumstances. Living too long, out living their resources, neglect from family and friends, aches and pains; easily depicted on stage, but oh so different when going through them in real life.
Mother and I had many a conversation about some of the same issues raised by that movie, and watching it brought back a lot of memories for me of those talks. The remembrance of observing someone you know and love go through the things that before were only words on a piece of paper, or lines in a play, no matter how well “written”, are never fully captured. As much as we tried to find the humor or steel ourselves to the inevitability of it, it was real, and palatable, and wouldn’t be ignored.
Mother kidded a lot about "old age isn't for sissy's", and everyone living within earshot of her agreed with her; usually through a resounding "You're right about that!" Knowing and acknowledging it are one thing, accepting it is something completly different. However, Roger Closson, the director of Presbyterian Manor, has stated time and time again that the resistance to getting older is, sure enough, what keeps many people alive longer than they or anyone else expected. But he is quick to add, those who do it with bitterness, and anger, don't enjoy the ride, as much as those who can laugh at the changes and embrace the opportunities that come along with them. He then proceeds to tell a joke along those lines -he knows them all-:).
I'm not big on change, I've had about enough of it this past year, thank you very much, but I was made aware of my attitude toward it while watching that movie. It is going to be with me the rest of my days so I better decide how I am going to respond to it, or I am going to be very frustrated, and swearing when I don't win the game.
I had seen the original taping of the Broadway Play staring Hume Cronyn and Jessica Tandy years before when we still lived at Rinker; yea that was a loooong time ago. I remember laughing at it, but didn’t remember the story other than it was about two elderly people living in a retirement home who played game after game of gin rummy. She kept beating him, and his frustration, albeit expressed mostly with swear words, was comical. That remembered, I rented it.
Funny what time and experiences do to your perception of something? There are many poignant moments in the movie, downright sad if you are my age, and have taken care of an elderly parent. Mother had many of the same conversations with other residents that she lived with at the manor, and when she was in the rehab center we both saw firsthand the things depicted in the film; odd there didn’t seem to be that much humor in them, either when they are happening, or being observed.
One thing I noticed this time that completely escaped me the first time was the utter frustration they both expressed at their circumstances. Living too long, out living their resources, neglect from family and friends, aches and pains; easily depicted on stage, but oh so different when going through them in real life.
Mother and I had many a conversation about some of the same issues raised by that movie, and watching it brought back a lot of memories for me of those talks. The remembrance of observing someone you know and love go through the things that before were only words on a piece of paper, or lines in a play, no matter how well “written”, are never fully captured. As much as we tried to find the humor or steel ourselves to the inevitability of it, it was real, and palatable, and wouldn’t be ignored.
Mother kidded a lot about "old age isn't for sissy's", and everyone living within earshot of her agreed with her; usually through a resounding "You're right about that!" Knowing and acknowledging it are one thing, accepting it is something completly different. However, Roger Closson, the director of Presbyterian Manor, has stated time and time again that the resistance to getting older is, sure enough, what keeps many people alive longer than they or anyone else expected. But he is quick to add, those who do it with bitterness, and anger, don't enjoy the ride, as much as those who can laugh at the changes and embrace the opportunities that come along with them. He then proceeds to tell a joke along those lines -he knows them all-:).
I'm not big on change, I've had about enough of it this past year, thank you very much, but I was made aware of my attitude toward it while watching that movie. It is going to be with me the rest of my days so I better decide how I am going to respond to it, or I am going to be very frustrated, and swearing when I don't win the game.
Monday, January 26, 2009
Horack's Judging Rated High At State Contest
Since we are writing about our folks high school years, I thought this might be a good time to interject a little story about Daddy.
Apparently when Daddy was in High School, he was in the school Farming Association (FFA I’m thinking), and as part of the requirements they learned about livestock, how to care for, and judge it.
Following is a newspaper article that appeared in (what paper, Mother and I never knew). Apparently, Daddy was good at what he did in FFA, read on………………
Apparently when Daddy was in High School, he was in the school Farming Association (FFA I’m thinking), and as part of the requirements they learned about livestock, how to care for, and judge it.
Following is a newspaper article that appeared in (what paper, Mother and I never knew). Apparently, Daddy was good at what he did in FFA, read on………………
Friday, January 16, 2009
Horacks meet Deets (cont. from Watch God Work)
Notice the signature, A.J Deets, that was Leonards Dad
1937 graduating class of South Haven High School. Mother, first row third from left, Leonard behind and to left, Katherine, third row, third from right.
When Anna Mae was in high school, there was a boy a grade ahead of her named Leonard Deets. His mom was Anna Mae's Sunday School Teacher. I think it was her Junior year in high school that a girl came to their school named Katherine Kirk. She moved up from Oklahoma to live with her brother and attend high school. He lived where our Uncle Henry and Aunt Betty later lived and still owns.
One day Ernest came home and told Anna Mae that he heard the place across the road west had sold to some people named Deets. Anna Mae replied that she wondered if they would be related to the Deets she had known in high school. She was thrilled to learn that it was Leonard and Katherine.
Katherine & Mother in St. Louis
Leonard & Daddy at New Salem Park
Ernest and Leonard first met when Leonard got a phone call to grab a bucket and meet Ernest at the end of his driveway because Rigg's barn was on fire. Leonard later put two and two together when he saw Ira's threshing machine in the machine shed at Horack's. He recognized it as the machine that had threshed his Dad's wheat years earlier.
Stories with the Deets would be a complete other Blog. They have been such a big part of our lives and still are. There is not a doubt in any of our minds that God put out families across the road from each other. For which, we are forever grateful.
1937 graduating class of South Haven High School. Mother, first row third from left, Leonard behind and to left, Katherine, third row, third from right.
When Anna Mae was in high school, there was a boy a grade ahead of her named Leonard Deets. His mom was Anna Mae's Sunday School Teacher. I think it was her Junior year in high school that a girl came to their school named Katherine Kirk. She moved up from Oklahoma to live with her brother and attend high school. He lived where our Uncle Henry and Aunt Betty later lived and still owns. One day Ernest came home and told Anna Mae that he heard the place across the road west had sold to some people named Deets. Anna Mae replied that she wondered if they would be related to the Deets she had known in high school. She was thrilled to learn that it was Leonard and Katherine.
Katherine & Mother in St. Louis
Leonard & Daddy at New Salem Park
Ernest and Leonard first met when Leonard got a phone call to grab a bucket and meet Ernest at the end of his driveway because Rigg's barn was on fire. Leonard later put two and two together when he saw Ira's threshing machine in the machine shed at Horack's. He recognized it as the machine that had threshed his Dad's wheat years earlier.
Stories with the Deets would be a complete other Blog. They have been such a big part of our lives and still are. There is not a doubt in any of our minds that God put out families across the road from each other. For which, we are forever grateful.
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