Patrons of Husbandry

The National Grange of the Order of Patrons of Husbandry is a fraternal organization of farmers, by farmers and for farmers that provided for "the intellectual, social and financial improvement of the farmer and his family". Granges provided information on sound farming practices, banded together to lower exorbitant freight rates on railroads, and campaigned for Rural Free Delivery of mail.

The first Grange in Maine was founded in 1873. By the early 1900's there were over 500. Today that number has dwindled to around 150. Jeff Kirlin over at The Thing of the Moment and I have vowed to get photos of all the remaining Granges in Maine this summer! (Right Jeff?).

So without further ado (or explanation) here are 12 Granges:

Readfield Grange

Leeds Grange

Richville Grange

West Baldwin Grange

North Jay Grange

Starling Grange, North Fayette

Sidney Grange

Enterprise Grange, Richmond

Wales Grange

Winthrop Grange

Manchester Grange

Androscoggin Grange, Greene

Memorial Day

My dad fought in World War II. Rob was never someone to revel in war stories, and rarely talked about his experiences except to tell self-deprecating stories about chasing camels from watering holes in Libya so he could take a bath or sleeping in Italian vineyards after the Battle of Monte Cassino. He received two Purple Hearts and a Good Conduct Medal. He gave me the Good Conduct Medal a few years ago and told me to give it to my dog.

Rob met Doris after the war and they were married in 1948. They moved into the first floor apartment of my grandfather's house, where my father had lived since he was five years old. By the time I was five, my parents, now with four kids, had moved to the larger, two-floor upstairs apartment, while my grandparents had moved to the first floor.

Rob has always had a green thumb and started a vegetable garden in the back yard of the house during the great depression, when he was about 13. When my mother moved into the house she gradually took over the flower garden as my grandmother’s health failed. It was a good division of labor. Every winter, Doris pored through flower catalogs, asking Rob what he thought of this lily or that daisy. Rob read up on green beans and squash and asked Doris if she wanted tomatoes for sauces or salads this year.

My mom died in 2001. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in late May and passed away in early July. One of her last instructions was to have Rob thin the day lilies because they were really getting overcrowded. The flower garden wasn’t carefully tended that year or the next. But eventually, Rob began to tackle the columbine and cone flowers and geraniums and clematis.

It’s been eight years since Doris passed away. Rob now grows flowers like he grows vegetables. He goes for big volumes and high production and if she could see it, Doris would roll her eyes and say “Oh jeez Rob! Cut back those cone flowers!”

On Memorial Day, I took Rob to the cemetery so he could plant something for Doris. Her stone is easy to spot because of the enormous clump of day lilies, daffodils and columbine around its base. Rob brought a calla lily, a geranium and a clematis to plant, though he doubted the clematis would make it. He cut back the daffodils and pulled a few of the bulbs. I began to pack them up to bring back to the car, but he said “Ya know, I think we can fit these in back here.” I heard a faint spinning sound from beneath my feet. He inspected them for grubs and replanted them close to the headstone, which has both their names on it.

Some people say...

...that I treat my dog like a child.

I don't know where they get this idea.

The Rookie

This is Junket. She's a 12 year old sheep dog.

Um, let me make that clearer. She's the SHEEP'S dog. She grew up with the sheep, lives with the sheep, eats and sleeps with the sheep. She thinks she is a sheep. However, she still barks like a dog, (a big, angry dog) whenever a coyote or other stranger tries to enter the sheep pasture. Which is the whole point.

This is Churchy, a one year old Maremma sheep guardian dog. Churchy will take over for Junket someday in the big pasture.

But first she needs to learn some manners, like not jumping on the sheep or up on the gate when you're about to open it.

Right now Churchy spends a lot of time in a pen with half a dozen easy-going ewes, which is where the rookies learn proper sheep etiquette. Eventually, though, she'll be the dog in sheep's clothing who'll surprise a coyote crossing the big pasture late some night.

Six hundred and seventy five souls

I've spent the last two days paying my respects to 675 people I never knew and am  not related to.

The project was simple enough. Map all the headstones in an old burial ground on Cape Cod. Positional accuracy required - six inches, plus or minus. The technology is straight forward. Rent a $5300 Global Positioning Satellite receiver with a $2500 high sensitivity antenna, stand in front of each stone and listen to the GPS receiver as it acquires the signal from the satellites orbiting 12,550 miles above - "beep, beep, beep". Once the signal is acquired, wait  for the satellites to move enough to refine their triangulation on your position. The satellites are moving at 9000 miles per hour, so 30 seconds is usually sufficient. Record the number of the headstone. Move to the next one.

Thirty seconds is not enough time to do much of anything.  So you read the stones and wonder about the people below you. What does Hannah Agry, died on Nov 19, 1792, in her 27th year think of the short, bearded fellow with the odd, beeping yellow box standing above her? Is she amused? Angry? Is Rebecca H., wife of Josiah Melcher, happy to be getting some attention 164 years after her passing? Or is she not thinking at all because she simply turned to dust long ago and that was that. Repeat 675 times.

It's Been a Wonderful 8 Years

Except now...

...I have...

...a really bad...

...hangover.

Burn Piles

In many towns in northern New England you can burn your brush, building debris, old tires, household appliances, deceased pets and other detritus without a permit as long as there is snow cover on the ground. It's a tradition!

Jude is a burn pile expert. She knows to always wear a hat.

In contrast, I discover a cheap way to get a haircut.

Hubcap Heaven

Maine is a major player in the pre-owned hubcap industry.

There's HUBCAP 4U in Littleton, Maine.

HUBCAP 4U's spacious showroom.

HUBCAP 4U's convenient self-check out.

And, in Bryant Pond, there's Conant's Hubcaps. That's Leon in his "office".

While Conant's showroom is a bit small....

... he has a huge inventory in his many stockrooms.

The Graduate

For the past eight weeks, I've been taking Trip to a puppy class.

They only other puppy in the class is Trip's brother Ozzy (on the right), who lives with a family in a town a few miles north of mine.

With only two puppies in the class, some liberties are taken. Trip and Ozzy are given a bit of time to say "hello" at the beginning of each session.

This usually starts casually enough...

... but soon leads to a little bit of rough housing...

...and then more...

...and more...

...until finally someone says "Enough!"

And then we have two quiet pups again.

Both pups graduated this week - here's Ozzy's class picture.

And here's Trip's.

One Thing I Hate...

Are dog owners who...

.. don't pick up after their dogs!

Photographing Dogs - II

Aw, isn't that cute! Big old Bon is getting along with little Trip. Let's take their picture. Sit Trip! Sit Bon!

Trip: Didja hear that?!!

Bon: What?
Trip: That funny noise! I think it was to the right!

Bon: Where?
Trip: No! Wait! I think it was to the left!

Bon: Where? Where!!
Trip: Oh wait. Nevermind. It's just the shutter.