nobody wonders about...
People wonder what happened to lots of "Little House" characters. But nobody seems to ask about these people:

Mr. Anderson
Nick Brown
Walter and Cora DeVoe
Mr. Foster
Mr. Hanson
Charles and Martha Harrison
Eva Huleatt
Hattie Johnson
Miles Lewis
Mr. Mead
Bill O'Dowd
Mrs. Peterson
Bill Ritchie
Mr. Thompson
Mr. Williams

Why is that? Because if everything Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote was true, then these people ought to fit nicely in the history of their respective "Little House" towns, right? There are additional characters in the manuscripts and in Pioneer Girl; in which case, I could have added Angeline Dayton and Cass Hobart to the list.
- posted by pioneergirl at 8:48 PM

 
slate-laced

In the museum at Rocky Ridge, there are two slates on display, identified as belonging to Laura and Mary. I assume this means that one of these is supposed to be The Slate from On the Banks of Plum Creek (see Chapter 21, "Nellie Oleson"). The slates are of different sizes, and one has red string lacing around its edges.

Who identified these slates as belonging to Laura and Mary, if not Laura herself? When? How do they know?

While reviewing the manuscript for On the Banks of Plum Creek, Rose wrote a letter (dated June 13, 1936) to her mother, in which she asked: "What was the slate and slate-pencil like? Just like the ones that I used to have? Red paper around the pencil, and red lacings (string) around the slate, holding the wooden frame on?"

To which Laura replied: "The slate had a brown, wood frame, morticed at the corners, made to fit, no lacings. Pencils were just the smooth round slate no, trimming."

This exchange has always made me think that perhaps the two slates in Mansfield belonged to Laura and Rose, not Laura and Mary. And yes, I realize that the laced slate could have been Mary's from a later date, and the unlaced slate could have been the earlier one from Plum Creek.

If you want to put red laces on your own slate, simply drill small holes through the wooden frame evenly spaced around the perimeter, and "sew" around the edges with string, yarn, ribbon, or other cording. It seems that lacing was more than mere decoration or "holding the frame in place;" it was often used to secure a narrow band of felt or leather around the slate frame. This would act as a silencer of sorts, to muffle the sound of a wooden slate against a wooden desk top.

Back when I regularly did "Little House" presentations, I used to "play school" and ask the students to get out their slates and slate pencils. I then offered them the use of one of mine, having collected enough so that none would have to share. Let me tell you that twenty or thirty slates in action does make a lot of noise!

Instead of slate pencils, which can be pricey and hard to find locally (but remember that most of the "Little House" museum bookstores carry them), I passed out soapstone pencils used for marking pipes for welding. Find them at most hardware stores. They're thin, white, and have no paper around them, and they're much cheaper than slate pencils. Like slate pencils, they do break when dropped, but the pieces can still be used to write with. You can also wrap and glue thin wrapping paper around them to help protect them. Best of all, soapstone pencils can be sharpened with a pencil sharpener or knife, so you can keep them pointed.

Look for actual slate boards instead of the cheaper, painted pressed wood ones. An actual slate will be the same front and back, and these, too, will break when you drop them. For pete's sake, don't use chalk. You can't hold it like a pencil, and it's just plain wrong!
- posted by pioneergirl at 1:48 AM

 
spring tonic
It's not quite spring, but I've been doing some spring cleaning, and I find that I'm just not into it. Maybe I need a spring tonic to jump-start myself into springtime?

In the manuscript for Farmer Boy, Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote about Mrs. Wilder's spring tonic:

Mother gathered barks and roots for another purpose that Almanzo did not like. Prickly ash and wild cherry bark, burdock and dandelion roots Mother boiled. In the liquor from the boiling she put sugar and boiled it down until it was almost a syrup. Then in this she put just enough Canada brandy to keep it from spoiling, poured it into bottles and set it away in the kitchen cupboard. Every morning, Almanzo and Royal, Eliza Jane and Alice had to take a spoonful of this spring medicine. It was bitter! Almost more bitter than anything one could imagine. But however Almanzo begged, no matter what faces he made afterward, he had to swallow a spoonful every morning before breakfast. Mother said it would cleanse his blood and keep him from being sick. Almanzo, like the house, must have a spring cleaning.

Once upon a time, winter diets consisted of grains and meat and whatever provisions had been preserved in the fall. In the spring, "first greens" were eagerly sought after. Laura mentions greens in The Long Winter (Chapter 31, "Waiting for the Train"): "I've thought of greens," Ma said. "But I can't find any weeds in the yard that are big enough to pick yet."

With the exception of the grass Carrie then wonders if they can eat, spring greens were a welcome addition to the table. Just as greens heralded new life from old earth, spring greens were recognized for their ability to get the body's own juices flowing. Most spring tonic plants are slightly bitter and have traditionally been used to stimulate the liver and gall bladder to clean out the wastes accumulated during a sedentary winter of high fat consumption.

Mrs. Wilder's spring tonic contained prickly ash and wild cherry bark, burdock and dandelion roots. Boiled in sugar, the syrup was preserved in brandy.

The first leaves of dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) are slightly bitter and contain more iron than equal amounts of spinich. They contain vitamin A and trace minerals. According to sources, dandelions are diuretic, support digestion, reduce swelling and inflammation, and treat viruses, jaundice, edema, gout, eczema and acne. Brought to America from Europe, dandelions soon became a noxious weed found everywhere.

Burdock (Arctium lappa) is a biennial with stems that grow up to five feet, producing purple-red flower heads, and hooked bracts commonly known as burrs, and has a carrot-like root. All parts of the plant can be eaten when young; it grows bitter as it ages. Leaves are harvested in the spring before harvesting, and the root in the fall. Burdock is a traditional remedy for gout, fevers, and kidney stones. It is also used to treat rheumatism, and to purify the blood and aid in circulation.

Prickly ash (Zanthoxlym americanum) is a deciduous shrub, growing to ten feet with thorny gray branches. It prefers moist shade of the woodlands. The bark is harvested in the spring, and is said to alleviate rheumatism and toothaches when chewed. The bark is a strong expectorant and used to make cough syrup, stop hemorrhages, and treat tuberculosis and kidney problems. It was widely used in the 19th century as a circulatory stimulant, and it can increase cardiac function and elevate the blood pressure. Prickly ash should not be consumed by pregnant women!

Mrs. Wilder's wild cherry was probably the black cherry (Prunus virginiana), also known as chokecherry. The bark is highly toxic in large doses and can cause difficulty in breathing, spasms, and twitching. Native to North America, the wild cherry is a deciduous tree, growing to 100 feet having elliptical to oblong leaves, spikes of white flowers, and purple-black fruits. The inner portion of the bark is a reddish color and has the odor of almonds. It is collected in late summer and early autumn.

The bark, twigs, and roots have been used to treat diarrhea, lung congestion, coughs, and colds. It can prevent scurvy and ease labor pains. Tea made from the inner bark was used to treat sore throats, sores, burns, wounds, and conjunctivitis.

Brandy is a general term for distilled wine, usually 40 to 60 percent alcohol by volume. It can be made from grapes or other distilled fruit juice; Canada brandy was simply brandy that had been made in Canada.

I found an 1881 printed recipe for tonic, which contained several ounces of boiled roots preserved in a gallon of whiskey or brandy. A half wineglass full was to be taken three times daily. One can only imagine that medicines were taken for their alcohol content over any other ingredients they may have contained.

We know that Caroline Ingalls also collected bitter herbs and such for medicines (see Chapter 1 of Little House in the Big Woods), but did a temperate family such as the Ingallses also keep spirits on hand for medicinal purposes?
- posted by pioneergirl at 1:59 PM

 
singing together was even better than talking
Let me preface this by saying that I can't carry a tune in a bucket with the lid on, so this isn't really about singing; I just like the above line from These Happy Golden Years, and I like to think about Laura and Ida sharing a hymnal and singing together in church. A music teacher friend once told me that it wasn't that I couldn't sing, it was probably that I couldn't sight-read, but I think she was just being polite.

Someone asked me to put the "Little House" song pages from a couple of years ago back online, and I have just done that. There is a link to the "Prairie Song Companion" (catchy, huh?) on www.pioneergirl.com. The uploaded pages are not fully tweaked yet, and I already know of a broken link or two, but I'll work on it.
- posted by pioneergirl at 2:12 PM

 
george washington's birthday

I have had it in my mind for a few days to blog about George Washington's birthday today. But I cannot tell a lie; I know next to nothing about George Washington. So I went to the library today in search of a book about him. I decided to check out Recollections and Private Memoirs of Washington by his Adopted Son, George Washington Parke Custis, with A Memoir of the Author, written by his daughter; and Illustrative and Explanatory Notes, by Benson J. Lossing. This book was published in 1860, and the copy I checked out is a first edition with engraved and tissue-protected plates and all sorts of interesting fold-out documents. It also has a wonderful collection of handwritten notes in the margains. I was a little surprised that it was still circulating.

So look for me to know more about George Washington in the weeks to come.

George Washington is mentioned in two "Little House" books. In Farmer Boy, Almanzo and Alice tip-toe into the forbidden parlor, where Washington's picture looks sternly from its frame between the windows. (See Chapter 18, "Keeping House.") We don't have a single historical figure's portrait hanging in our home, and if we did, it would most likely be of Robert E. Lee than a former president, and I say that in all honesty. By the way, George Washington Parke Custis was the father-in-law of Robert E. Lee.

George Washington is mentioned several times in Little Town on the Prairie. In Chapter 19, "The Whirl of Gaiety," the Ingallses attend the debate: "Resolved. That Lincoln was a greater man than Washington." (I wonder who won?) In the same chapter, George Washington is one of the wax figures displayed in Mrs. Jarley's Waxworks. Later, in Chapter 24, "The School Exhibition," Laura points to the schoolhouse portrait of President Washington as she tells about about his poor boyhood, his work as a surveyor, his defeat by the French at Fort Duquesne, and then of his long, disheartening years of war. She told of his unanimous election as the First President, the Father of his Country, and of the laws passed by the First Congress and the Second, and the opening of the Northwest Territory.

I'm not sure that there are many students today who learn that much about the Father of our Country.
- posted by pioneergirl at 11:00 PM

 
shiftless
In Laura Ingalls Wilder, Young Pioneer, Beatrice Gormley wrote: Laura knew this girl, Stella GIlbert. The Gilberts were neighbors of the Ingallses. Laura thought the whole Gilbert family was shiftless. Some time ago, she'd refused to go to a party with Stella's brother. (See chapter titled "Laura in Love.")

Here is what Laura wrote about the Gilbert family in Pioneer Girl:

Some people named Gilbert lived on a farm north and east of town. There were Pa and Ma Gilbert, Al and Fred and Stella and Leona Gilbert.

They had come early in the spring after the hard winter and by the next winter Ma Gilbert had become bedridden and had not been out of her bed since though she looked well enough, with bright eyes and color in her cheeks.

Stella and her father did the work and cared for Leona who had been born since her mother refused to try to get up.

I got acquainted with Stella at Sunday-school and had been out to the house and seen the rest of the family. Now Fred was going to school and seemed to want to be very attentive to me.

There was a dancing club in town with dances every Friday night and I had been thinking I would like to go, but when Fred told me he had bought a membership and asked me to go with him, I couldn't bear to think of being with Fred so much and refused. He was nice enough for anything I could explain, even to myself, but he was a green country boy and I didn't like his style, nor the Gilbert family.

I'm not sure I interpret this as "shiftless." The dictionary defines shiftless as: lacking ambition or purpose; lazy. Characterized by lack of ambition or energy. Lacking resourcefulness or efficiency; incompetent.

Laura doesn't seem to have liked the family, though. Laura went on in Pioneer Girl to say that the Gilbert family moved west and became millionaires investing in real estate. That is true, but the Gilberts were also quite well off before they left De Smet. When Charles Ingalls was declaring a personal worth of only a hundred dollars or so (for personal property taxes), Mr. Gilbert was worth thousands of dollars. He was also a prominent citizen in Minnesota before moving to Dakota to take a claim, with the area around his former home known as "Gilbert's Hill" decades after the family had left. Mr. Gilbert's son, David, was the mail boy during the Hard Winter, regularly walking to Lake Preston and back for the mail. That doesn't sound like he was lazy. And in later years, Laura wrote that she had actually been quite smitten with Fred Gilbert, once upon a time.

Born in June 1867, Fred Gilbert died in 1899. He is buried in the De Smet cemetery very near the Ingalls family graves.
- posted by pioneergirl at 9:00 PM

 
speaking of historical accuracy...
I moved some juvenile bios of Laura Ingalls Wilder recently, and I noticed all the bits of paper sticking out of Beatrice Gormley's "Childhood of Famous Americans" book, Laura Ingalls Wilder, Young Pioneer (New York: Aladdin Paperbacks), 2001. I tend to order anything about LIW sight unseen, and I must say that most of the juvenile biographies are really quite nice; it always amazes me how many there are and that new ones seem to be published all the time! They're usually taken from William Anderson's writings, and the most fault I can find with them is that authors sometimes mix apples and oranges, or use bits from Wilder's fiction and bits from Wilder's real life, mix at will, and call it "the true story." I'm guilty of the same thing from time to time; it's hard not to do it.

But Gormley's book really, really offended me when I read it. There were just so many pure-T wrong statements! I don't know if recent editions have been corrected; one can only hope that there aren't still children (and adults) out there reading that the Ingalls family crossed the Missouri River as they left Pepin.

I'm going to look at the notes I left in the book to see what else jumped out at me. I would never recommend it to anyone, and it feels a little wrong to be writing about it at all.

First of all, it's quite obvious that Gormley used one of the Pioneer Girl manuscripts as part of her research. But even parts of Pioneer Girl aren't accurate; the hand-written manuscript is only as accurate as Laura's memory at the time it was written, and the later typed versions have lots of extras, often courtesy of Rose.

So when Gormley writes that the "high water" episode from Little House on the Prairie really happened as the Ingalls family was leaving Indian Territory, you know that her source for this information was Pioneer Girl, but who's to say that Laura didn't realize after Pioneer Girl was written that it happened on the way to Indian Territory? And, of course, there are no footnotes or endnotes in Gormley's book (or most other biographies, even William Anderson's juvenile biographies).

I was going to include my list of things Gormley "got wrong" imho, not to generate a debate, just because the "historical accuracy" thing has been on my mind as I do my own recent research. But I've decided not to do the whole list, just the first ten I flip to.

(1) Pa sold his Big Woods farm to Mr. Peterson.
(2) The Floweret is all verses.
(3) Uncle Peter's children were Alice, Ella, Peter, and Edith.
(4) The Ingallses arrived in Walnut Grove in the summer of 1874.
(5) Nellie was Laura's age.
(6) Tommy Steadman was the baby of the Steadman family.
(7) George and Maggie Masters moved in with the Ingalls family in the fall of 1880.
(8) Laura worked for Mrs. Clayson for six weeks.
(9) Mr. Clewett taught the De Smet school after Eliza Jane Wilder.
(10) The Gilbert family was shiftless. (This one is just plain laughable, sorry.)

Ranting aside, I know that that "Little House" books are historical fiction, and as such, they might not always tell the historically accurate story, which is perfectly acceptable. Some LIW biographers (we're talking juvenile bios, here) do a great job emphasizing where "Laura got it right" while not drawing too much attention to where fiction and history aren't quite the same story. That's okay by me, but your mileage may vary.

I'm not a biographer; I'm a researcher (a researcher who hates to write, btw). I research little bits of Laura's life and history as it interests me. Right now, I'm a researcher desperately in need of a tangent. It's been a while since I had a research project I could sink my teeth into, and it probably explains why I'm so darned cynical all the time lately. (Okay, I admit that I'm cynical all the time and always have been!)

I realize that not even tens of people read this blog, but I'd be interested in knowing which juvenile biographies you find enjoyable.
- posted by pioneergirl at 1:59 AM

 
not to be confused with cirrhosis
While working on the manuscript for On the Banks of Plum Creek, Laura Ingalls Wilder gave the following speech at a meeting of the Mountain Grove (Missouri) Sorosis Club.

Sorosis, a professional women's association, was created in 1868 by Jane Cunningham Croly, because women were usually excluded from membership in many professional clubs. The work of Sorosis was "municipal housekeeping": applying to municipal problems the same principles of housekeeping that a well-educated woman was expected to practice in the late 19th century.

In 1890, delegates from more than sixty women's clubs were brought together by Sorosis to form the General Federation of Women's Clubs, whose mission was to help local clubs better organize, while encouraging clubs to work together on lobbying efforts for social reform of health, education, conservation, and government reform.

The word sorosis comes from the botanical name for a fruit formed from the ovaries of many flowers merged together. An example is the pineapple. It may also have been intended as a term related to sorority, which is derived from the Latin soror, or sister.

Laura's speech was titled MY WORK, and much of what it included are things that one often hears people mention about Laura, then say that they "heard it somewhere." Now you can say you read it here!

MY WORK, by Laura Ingalls Wilder

I hope you will pardon me for making my work the subject of this talk for I had no choice. The children's story I am writing completely filled my mind.

And again I must ask your indulgence for reading it. Since ten years have passed without my speaking to a crowd, I am some like one of the boys in the recent speaking contest. He said to me, "I was scared plum to death and it was actually pitiful how my knees shook."

When I began writing children's stories I had in mind only one book.

For years I had thought that the stories my father once told me, should be passed on to other children. I felt they were too good to be lost.

And so I wrote Little House in the Big Woods.

That book was a labor of love and is really a memorial to my father. A line drawing of an old tintype of father and mother is the first illustration.

I did not expect much from the book but hoped that a few children might enjoy the stories I had loved.

To my surprise it was the choice of the Junior Literary Guild for the year 1932. In addition to this it ran into its seventh edition in its third year and is still going strong.

Immediately after its publication I began getting letters from children, individually and in school classes asking for another book. They wanted to hear more stories. It was the same plea multiplied many times that I used to hear from Rose: "Oh tell me another Mama Bess! Please tell me another story!"

So then I wrote Farmer Boy, a trye story of Mr. Wilder's childhood. This was a few years farther back that my own in a greatly different setting. Little House in the Big Woods was on the frontier of Wisconsin, while the Farmer Boy worked and played in Northern New York state.

Again my mail was full of letters begging for still another book. The children were crying, "Please tell me another story!"

My answer was Little House on the Prairie, being some more adventures of Pa and Ma, Mary, Laura, and Baby Carrie who had lived in the Little House in the Big Woods.

Again the story was true but it happened in a vastly different setting than either of the others. The Little House on the Prairie was on the plains of Indian Territory when Kansas was just that.

Here instead of woods and bears and deer as in the Big Woods, or horses and cows and pigs and school, so many years ago, as in Farmer Boy, were wild Indians and wolves, prairie fire, rivers in flood and U.S. soldiers.

And again I am hearing the old refrain, "Please tell another!" "Where did they go from there?"

After being crowded on from one book into another I have gotten the idea that children like old-fashioned stories. And so I have been working, in my spare time, this winder writing another for them, which will likely be published within the year. It will tell of pioneer times in western Minnesota, of blizzards, of the 1873 [sic] plague of grasshoppers, of Laura's first school days, of hardships and work and play. With the consent of publishers, I shall call the story On the Banks of Plum Creek.

The writing of these books has been a pleasant experience and they have made me many friends scattered far and wide.

Teachers write me that their classes read Little House in the Big Woods and went on to the next grade but came back into their old room to listen to the reading of Farmer Boy and that the next class was as interested as the first had been.

A teacher in Minnesota writes me that Little House in the Big Woods and Farmer Boy are in every third grade in the state.

There is a fascination in writing. The use of words is of itself an interesting study. You will hardly believe the difference the use of one word rather than another will make until you begin to hunt for a word with just the right shade of meaning, just the right color for the picture you are painting with words. Had you thought that words have color?

The only stupid thing about words is the spelling of them.

There is so much one learns in the course of writing, for instance in writing of the grasshopper plague. My childish memory was of very hot weather. In making sure of my facts, I learned that the temperature must be at 68 degrees to 70 degrees for grasshoppers to eat well and it must be above 78 degrees before the swarms will take to the air. If the temperature is below 70 degrees the female grasshopper doesn't lay well, but above that she may lay 20 or more "settings of eggs."

In writing Little House on the Prairie I could not remember the name of the Indian chief who saved the whites from massacre. It took weeks of research before I found it. In writing books that will be used in schools such things must be right and the manuscript is submitted to experts before publication.

I have learned in this work that when I went as far back in my memory as I could and left my mind there awhile it would go farther back and still farther, bringing out of the dimness of the past things that were beyond my ordinary remembrance.

I have learned that if the mind is allowed to dwell on a circumstance more and more details will present themselves and the memory becomes much more distinct.

Perhaps you already know all this, but I will venture to say that unless you have worked at it, you do not realize what a storehouse your memory is, nor how your mind can dig among its stores if it is given the job. We should be careful, don't you think, about the things we give ourselves to remember.

Also, to my surprise, I have discovered that I have led a very interesting life. perhaps none of us realize how interesting a life is until we begin to look at it from that point of view. Try it! I am sure you will be delighted.

There is still one thing more the writing of these books has shown me.

Running through all the stories, like a golden thread, is the same thought of the values of life. They were courage, self reliance, independence, integrity and helpfulness. Cheerfulness and humor were handmaids to courage.

In the depression following the Civil War my parents, as so many others, lost all their savings in a bank failure. They farmed the rough land on the edge of the Big Woods in Wisconsin. They struggled with the climate and fear of Indians in the Indian Territory. For two years in succession they lost their crops to the grasshoppers on the Banks of Plum Creek. They suffered cold and heat, hard work and privation as did others of their time. When possible they turned the bad into good. If not possible, they endured it. Neither they nor their neighbors owed them a living. They owed that to themselves and in some way they paid the debt. And they found their own way.

Their old fashioned character values are worth as much today as they ever were to help us over the rough places. We need today courage, self reliance and integrity.

When we remember that our hardest times would have been easy times for our forefathers, it should help us to be of good courage, as they were, even if things are not all as we would like them to be.

And now I will say just this... If ever you are becoming a little bored with your life, as it is, try a new line of work as a hobby. You will be surprised what it will do for you.
- posted by pioneergirl at 1:58 AM

 
i remember manchester

Someone who spends way too much time at youtube.com sent me links to visuals of the tornado that destroyed Manchester, South Dakota, in June 2003. You can read about the tornado (and see more photos) in the April 2004 issue of National Geographic, and see footage on more than one oft-repeated television special.

In Laura's day, Manchester was a thriving little town, with four town blocks of multiple lots laid out exactly as the four original De Smet town blocks, except on Kingsbury and Center Streets instead of Calumet and First. There was a depot, hotel, town school, and general store, among other buildings. The McKee claim was about two miles northwest of town, about the same distance as Charles Ingalls' claim was from the town of De Smet.

By the time I visited Manchester over 100 years later, there wasn't much left of the original town - only a town hall and a couple of boarded-up buildings, plus a farmhouse or two or three in the town proper, one of which you see being totally destroyed in the tornado video (and you should know that two people were in that house when it was destroyed). Kingsbury Street was still a dirt road, and Center Street was your "turning around" point to go back where you came from. To get to the former McKee claim, you drove on dirt roads past several farms, but there are no buildings on the former McKee land today.


The image on the left is of Manchester shortly after the tornado. The image on the right is of Manchester today.

Rest in Peace, Manchester.
- posted by pioneergirl at 9:28 PM

 
what you can buy with a cow and a calf

Ever since backtrailing a billionteen miles from where I want to be to where I feel like I've died and gone to hell, ones of people have emailed and said they wanted to see a picture of the new place. Then there are those who live close enough to visit and see it for themselves, but for some reason they won't cross the state line to do so. I'm not naming names; I'm just saying is all.

So now you've seen it. And it explains a lot as to why I haven't been putting my heart into blogging lately. I'm just too blamed tired every night after working on fixing the place up, although why anybody would want to live in this town is still beyond me.

We downsized a lot when buying this place, but the price was right (see above: it cost a cow and a calf, or around $60 in terms of 1883 dollars). It's two rooms below and a chamber, double board sided and tar paper double between the sheeting. I know it's not much to look at now, but it will be lovely when it's painted white with Virginia creepers over the windows, a flower garden, roses, verbena, phlox, etc., before the door. There will be an arbor at the left over which a magnificent grapevine will grow, and a henhouse with yard, etc. The walls will be nicely papered and there will be carpet except for the kitchen and that painted. And lace curains. Did I mention the lace curtains?

I am very much attached to my little house.

Okay, so maybe you've already figured out that the description was written by Eliza Jane Wilder about the second house built on her homestead claim. See A Wilder in the West for snippets or Eliza Jane Wilder's homestead file for the whole thing. And the photo above just happens to be of that same house taken a few years ago, which is, yes, still barely standing on private property and surrounded by lots of junk and snakes and old cars and snakes and weeds. Minus windows and most of the walls, you can (or could when I was there) still make out the various rooms and see layers of wallpaper on the walls and vestiges of white paint on the siding. There is an interesting rock walled "garden" at the south (facing De Smet) side of the house, with no access except through the house proper. It must have been a lovely place at one time, and it's a crying shame that somebody didn't do something with Eliza Jane's house decades ago when perhaps it was still salvageable.

My house isn't Banker Ruth's, but it was built by an early Backtrailerville banker in the days when people had horses and barns and town lots had alleys behind them. The alley behind my house is now covered with trees that two people can't hold hands around, they're so huge. Quite frankly, I'd rather have the alley. And the barn was converted into a barely standing garage, and the yard has been oh-so-neglected for what must have been decades, judging by the ivy in the trees, ivy in the yard, and ivy over the very roof itself.

So, as much as I'd rather be up to my ears in "Little House" research, I've been up to my ears in tasks like pulling ivy out of trees and digging up stumps of long-ago shrubbery and laying a brick edging so, hopefully, when it comes time to plant something, I can plant roses, verbena, phlox, and a grapevine (well, maybe scuppernongs) before the door.

I will never love it here. I will never even like it here. And in order to keep my sanity, I will be spending a lot of time taking my anger out on the earth and hoping that one day in the future, I can once again live in a house I can love in a town I can appreciate.

But I can't help but wonder how Charles Ingalls felt all those years in De Smet, when he really wanted to have kept on moving west.
- posted by pioneergirl at 11:14 PM

 
hat, no hat, and smiling

Back in the day, there were ten couples in De Smet who used to have a round of parties together. The couples included a few familiar "Little House" names: Fuller, Hopp, Sanford, Sherwood, Tinkham, and Wilmarth.

It was also the time of the penny picture arcade, and the ten couples once had their photographs taken in three poses: with hat, without hat, and smiling. That's the "bald-headed furniture man" shown above in his three poses.

Oh please, the next time there's a LH gathering, can't we all pose for a composite photo: bonnet, no bonnet, and smiling?

Progressive cinch, anyone?
- posted by pioneergirl at 4:14 PM

 
happy birthday, farmer boy
Last night, when I could hardly climb into bed with all my sore muscles, I wondered if Laura wore herself out on the end of a crosscut saw when she and Almanzo had just moved to Mansfield and were working so hard on Rocky Ridge Farm?

Since backtrailing east a while back, I have been trying to take my mind off of things by throwing myself into all the work that needing doing around a place sorely neglected for decades. When the sun is shining, no matter how cold it is, I I go outside after lunch (for the time being, I do "Little House" research in the morning). So I've raked leaves, chopped underbrush, pulled ivy, dug trenches, hauled rocks, pulled weeds, and cut down trees. People stop by and tell me that the place sure looks better than it ever has! It's a sad day when bare dirt and nothingness looks better than what was there.

I tell people that I live in Hooterville, but I need to come up with a suitably derogatory "Little House" reference -- maybe "Eastville"? Laura didn't like Westville, but if I had moved there, at least it would be a "Little House" site... After all, fictional Hooterville was supposed to have been located in Missouri, and I stayed in love with Missouri until I lost my heart in South Dakota.

Anyway, I'd be blogging if I wasn't so worn out. I blog in my head but I'm too tired at night to visit the computer. I'll try to do better.

I had planned to make dinnertime stacked pancakes to celebrate Almanzo's birthday, but I think I'll make Neta's swiss steak instead. The recipe is in the LIW Country Cookbook, but I heard it from Neta herself. The story is that Almanzo used to always compliment Neta on her swiss steak and it made Laura a little mad the way he went on and on about it, and she told him so. So the next time Neta made swiss steak, Almanzo told her that "Bessie says I brag on your cooking too much" so he wouldn't say anything about it this time, but she was to know that he enjoyed it just the same. By the way, Neta told me that she didn't use garlic, although garlic is included in the cookbook recipe.

Neta's swiss steak is what I grew up knowing as country fried steak. You can buy cubed steak or pound your own round steak; you'll need 2-4 pieces, depending on the size of your cast iron skillet.

Salt and pepper the meat, then pound as much flour into it as it can take. Set the meat aside for thirty minutes, then dredge it in flour again before cooking. Brown on both sides in hot oil, then remove to a plate to pour off any excess oil. Add a can of cream of mushroom soup to the pan, and stir in a can of water and a bit of sliced onion. Turn the heat to low and add the pieces of meat. Simmer for an hour or more, or until quite tender, turning the meat once during simmering. Serve with rice or potatoes. Fried apples and onions only adds to the goodness.

In a recent newsletter, the Almanzo Wilder Association (the Wilder ::::shudder:::: Homestead) asked for people to write and tell them how they would be celebrating Almanzo's birthday this year. I guess they are going to publish the best of the contributed suggestions at a later date. Rosebunting said she was going to shove some popcorn in some milk. I said I was going to cuss like a sailor. We did not write in with those suggestions.

How be you celebrating Almanzo's birthday?
- posted by pioneergirl at 8:25 AM

 
"on the day you were born..."
Some middle-of-the-night thoughts about Laura's birth day, which I didn't get out of bed to blog about:

Did Pa ever tell stories about the day Mary/Laura/Carrie/Freddy/Grace was born? Laura tells us a bit about Carrie's and Grace's births in her unpublished writings, but it would be interesting to know about (especially) Laura's birth. What time of day was she born? Was Ma in labor a long time? Was it an easy birth? Who was there? Did Pa have to rush out in the middle of a snowstorm to fetch Aunt Polly? Who was looking after two-year-old Mary during the birth?

This year on February 7, the high temperature in Pepin was in the zero digits, and when I looked at the weather report during the night, it was eleven below zero. Weird, but I never really thought about Laura being born firmly in the middle of winter before.

Surely in a cabin that was perhaps no bigger than my living room, there wasn't all that much privacy while Laura was coming into the world. Was there a door to the bedroom? Was it open or closed? Was there a roaring fire and could you hear the wood crackle and pop from the big bed? Was it warm and comfortable in the bedroom or drafty and chilly?

Was there conscious sadness that Laura was a daughter instead of a son? There were already a lot of boy cousins in the Ingalls and Quiner households: Polly and Henry had two sons; Martha and Charles Carpenter had two; Aunt Nancy Quiner had two; Lydia had one; and James had one (or two -- I'm not really sure if Samuel was born before Laura...). And Laura's Cousin Peter was not quite 3 months old when she was born.

By the way, that photo from yesterday is of Cousin Peter.
- posted by pioneergirl at 1:59 AM

 
guess who?

It's a character in the books. The photo was taken after 1885, so it is not a "book era" photo.
- posted by pioneergirl at 2:32 PM

 
find mr. ely's tent

A fiftieth reunion of the Battle of Gettysburg was held in June-July 1913. Lumberman Ely from the De Smet "Little House" books was there. July 2nd of the battle, Mr. Ely had been shot in the right chest, the ball passing through his body and exiting near his backbone. After the battle, he was carried to a field hospital, where he lay for four days before being seen. One doctor ran a handkerchief through the hole in Mr. Ely's body before declaring that he couldn't survive. Obviously he did.

Mr. Ely was moved aside, and later sent to a hospital in Philadelphia. His mother came from Minnesota to attend to his wound. Most remarkable was the fact that Mr. Ely recovered enough to return to the fighting by the end of the year.

Mr. Ely's wound bothered him for many years. It opened once, and he removed a piece of India rubber. He remembered that his rolled-up rubber blanket had been slung over his shoulder during the battle, and obviously a piece had entered his body when he was shot. Twice, his wound opened and he removed pieces of bone.

Mr. Ely was almost seventy years old at the time of the Gettysburg reunion, but he traveled to Pennsylvania with other South Dakota soldiers in the luxury of a train of steel Pullman cars, said to be "one of the handsomest trains to enter Gettysburg."

Of his trip, all Mr. Ely said was that it was "a pleasure." He didn't mention the reunion camp covering 280 acres, the 173 field kitchens, the 50,000 attendees, or the 32 bubbling ice water fountains. He didn't mention that the temperature was often 100 degrees, or that almost 10,000 men were treated by the medical staff during the event. He didn't mention that he was issued a cot and bedding, or that he bunked with seven other men in a tent.

You can read about the Gettysburg Reunion in Lt. Col. Lewis E. Beitler's Fiftieth Anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg: Report of the Pennsylvania Commission (Harrisburg, Pennsylvania: William Stanley Ray, State Printer, 1914).

Mr. Ely died in De Smet in August 1916.

The Civil War and the Battle of Gettysburg has been on my mind because I recently watched (for the eleventy-seventh time) Ken Burns' excellent documentary: The Civil War. What made me think of Mr. Ely and his Gettysburg reunion attendance was images from the reunion shown in the documentary. Mr. Ely might have been in that footage I saw!
- posted by pioneergirl at 10:04 PM

 
"a dog that will fetch a bone..."
I had an interesting phone call this week. Apparently, someone (or sometwo) is working on a Laura Ingalls Wilder documentary. It is in the "discussion phase," where ideas are being tossed around as to how a Laura Ingalls Wilder documentary ought to be done.

So the question was: what would I hope to see in a Laura Ingalls Wilder documentary?

My answer? Scholarship.

Now that I've had a few days to think about it, I'm still not certain as to exactly what I would hope to see in such a documentary - other than something that was historically accurate. It has always bothered me how often historical accuracy has taken a backseat to keeping the damn myth alive.

If there's one thing I've learned in the past ten years or so, it's that it's not nice to point out (with proof) that Laura was wrong about anything. "Why would you want to prove Laura wrong?" I've been asked.

I don't think the problem is "proving Laura wrong." I think the problem is in proving that widely-available publications are wrong. Therefore, I honestly don't think anyone has the balls to tell the real story.
- posted by pioneergirl at 6:27 PM

 
l.e.w.

I came back (two days from now; I'm back-blogging...) to find some of the snipes were discussing the engraving on Laura's Crown silverplated wedding silver. Was it engraved with LIW or LEW? What did it look like? Script? Block letters? Etc.

Now you know.
- posted by pioneergirl at 2:12 AM