Fall has arrived and it sure feels like it. The temperature at our house Saturday morning was 31 degrees so I picked all the cucumbers, green peppers and most of the tomatoes from the three raised bed gardens.
It was 37 degrees here on Monday morning when Casey and Taz went to our Horse Creek pasture to start trailing the cows home. RonE and Jace Jenson and Bill Holt helped them gather the cows out of the deep draws and head them south. Jace said he had ice on his windshield when he left Ralph and when Clint Doll helped Taz and Casey trail the cows through the Hackamore pastures, Clint said it was 32 degrees at his house that morning. By that afternoon the temperature rose to 78 degrees so my laundry got dry on the clothesline and Reub was able to cut some third cutting alfalfa that afternoon.
Taz helped Reub get the square baler home from Glendo Tuesday morning and then he took our air conditioner out for me before he left for rodeos in Kansas City and Omaha that afternoon. The furnace kicked in Saturday morning and we sure don’t need air conditioning now.
The next national census will start soon. A guy from the census bureau stopped here on Wednesday to verify that there were still people living in the same place as the last census. He had our house and Casey and Missy’s house listed, but didn’t have Taz and Amanda’s house on the list yet. When he saw me limping, he gave me some advice about supplements that he takes that fixed his pain so I thanked him for the advice with a sack of ripe tomatoes. My knee just keeps getting worse, so I’m having it replaced this Wednesday in Spearfish and from all the stuff the surgeon gave me to read in preparation for the surgery, it looks like there will be quite a bit of pain involved afterwards. I’m thinking I might not even get the Roundup written next week after the surgery.
It was 33 degrees here Thursday morning when Casey went up to Ralph to help Jenson’s preg test their cows. Reub spent the morning bunching bales at Coyote’ and he was able to get the third cutting alfalfa square baled that afternoon when it warmed up. The laundry got dry on the clothesline again and I baked a big batch of buns that afternoon to help Reub keep himself nourished while I’m laid up.
There was a celebration of life for Violet Krambeer, 98, at the Reva Hall Friday afternoon and a lot of friends and family showed up to bid goodbye to her. There was a private family burial service before the service. Ken Amor also brought my sister Judy’s tombstone to set in the Glendo cemetery where we buried her in June. Aunt Violet was a Wilkinson and my late mother Lila White’s sister. It’s really hard to say goodbye to family members.
Margaret Week drove out from Washington this week to gather up some things from their place northwest of Prairie City. We hadn’t seen our old friend for years and thankfully Karen Wilkinson told her about Violet’s service at the Reva Hall and asked her to come. Her husband Bruce didn’t come with her and she was worried about the snowstorm that was moving into Montana that she was going to have to drive through, so she left early to try to make the trip home safely.
There were a lot of things happening on Saturday. It was Men’s Day at the Rainbow Bible Ranch south of Union Center and Lester Longwood took Duane Harris and Reub with him down there. RonE and Starla Jenson and Casey and Missy went to Spearfish for the football game to watch BHSU beat a team from Colorado. After the game they all came back to Buffalo for the wedding of Kirbi Braaten and Taten Brengle later that afternoon. Taz got home from the rodeos Friday night and he and Amanda also went in to the Brengle wedding. The Reva/Sorum fire department had their pancake and sausage supper that evening in Reva and I joined a lot of neighbors for that. The Camp Crook fire department also had their BBQ supper at the Camp Crook Community Center Saturday evening. These local fire departments are all staffed by volunteer firefighters and operate only on what neighbors donate to keep them going.
This illustrates what they deal with:
A fire started on some grassland near a farm in Indiana. The fire department from the nearby town was called to put the fire out. The fire proved to be more than the small town fire department could handle, so someone suggested that a rural volunteer fire department be called. Though there was doubt that they would be of any assistance, the call was made.
The volunteer fire department arrived in a dilapidated old fire truck. They drove straight towards the fire and stopped in the middle of the flames. The volunteer firemen jumped off the truck and frantically started spraying water in all directions. Soon they had snuffed out the center of the fire, breaking the blaze into two easily controllable parts. The farmer was so impressed with the volunteer fire department’s work and so grateful that his farm had been spared, that he presented the volunteer fire department with a check for $1000. A local news reporter asked the volunteer fire captain what the department planned to do with the funds.
“That should be obvious,” the chief responded, “the first thing we’re gonna do is get the brakes fixed on that danged old fire truck.”