Do it later (may mean) Procrastination (could lead to) No tomorrows

One short news item barely hints at financial disaster to a rancher:  “George West lost 400 head of sheep in one night last week.” That piece of information comes from a newspaper printed on January 18—125 years ago—but it would be a “killer” piece of information even today.

Perhaps the rancher mentioned saved a portion of his flock, but 400 dead animals had to be a severe loss. Judging by the other snippets included from that January 18, 1890 newspaper, the mail carriers as well as cargo contractors all had a great deal of difficulty throughout northern Nevada fulfilling their duties during that part of January. No mention of snow depth was given but it must have been too deep to travel easily and had to have been terrible for livestock and their owners. It was obviously deadly for those 400 sheep.

I don’t know how that rancher who lost so many sheep felt about his first tomorrow after he counted his loss—probably not to cheerfully. No doubt there are song lyrics somewhere dealing with “no tomorrows.” The idea can definitely be depressing—or it can be a motivating factor. It is certainly a Biblical truth that we are not promised any tomorrows. And there is more than one reference to doing something “today.”  

Jesus told a parable recorded in Luke 12:16-21 about a rich man who had amassed such riches he decided he’d build bigger storehouses (barns) to hold all his blessings. Seeing those words in black and white reminds me that blessings (riches) are not given to us just for storing and hoarding, but apparently that was the focal point of this man’s thinking.

At any rate, God came to the wealthy man that very night and told him his soul would be required of him. In other words, he was not going to see tomorrow. He was not going to be able to build those bigger barns. Even if he had planned to give away some of his wealth to the needy, it was too late. No tomorrow. God doesn’t promise me a “later.” So I’d best be acting on what He tells me to do/act/think today.

I need to remember those sheep.

Ice Cutting

This topic came from a recent entry in the Rewrite article in our local paper reporting that on January 11, 1890, the folks in the Elko area were apprised of the fact that several men and their teams (of horses, I presume) were out cutting ice for the hotels and saloons in town. It was also mentioned that it was a pretty cold job. The temperatures mentioned during the preceding week had lows ranging from -26 to -42 with a “high" of -6 during those subzero days. Apparently, the temperatures had moderated some in order for the men and their animals to withstand the weather and the cold work.

I haven’t done any research at the Museum to know where the town's ice house was located for the storage of these ice blocks, but I would hope it was fairly close to the river where the ice was cut.

The whole idea of cutting ice in the winter to be used in the summer is a totally foreign idea to children and young adults in 21^st century America. Actually, it’s a foreign idea to me and I’m much older than the ages I just mentioned. However, history books will tell us that electricity in everyone’s home didn’t come about until, in some cases, the 1940’s and 1950’s. Our refrigerators were once called ice boxes – for a good reason. That’s what they were. They held a block of ice (purchased from the iceman or if you lived in the country, you fetched it from your ice house). The coolness from the ice kept food from spoiling.

 My father had memories of cutting ice back on the farm in Missouri although his memories would have come from experiences closer to the 1920’s. The method he spoke of was to score the ice with some type of sharp implement, then I guess they would drill holes so that the ice saws could grab hold and cut the ice into blocks. How they kept hold of the ice blocks once they were cut, I don’t know. I think I remember seeing some large “tongs” out in our garage at the farmhouse and Dad said those were ice tongs. The ice blocks were stored in heavily walled structures with sawdust between layers of ice and covering the ice as the sawdust acts as insulation.

I searched the Net and discovered a fascinating post on Gizmodo about Harvesting Ice in Maine. The activity is a community activity which occurs every January and/or February and the article not only gives the history of ice cutting or harvesting, but also includes photographs of each step needed in the process. Truly fascinating. The group sells a 300 pound block of ice for $1 to sports fishermen who say the ice lasts for about a week because it doesn’t have air bubbles in it like artificially made ice does.

Preservation

Last week’s allotted blog writing time was filled with an “adventure.” Nothing spiritual, but it did have to do with good stewardship.  It all started with the purchase of a dehydrator during our Christmas sojourn to Las Vegas. Last weekend I put my new appliance to work. 

A friend gave me a box of apples, mostly small in size, but all very sweet. The first layer of apples were washed, cut up and cooked on my stove top for apple sauce. My apple saucer or fruit sieve or whatever its correct name happens to be is an inherited appliance from Mom Diehl. (Actually, appliance is probably not a correct description since I think of such items as being powered by electricity. My apple sieve is definitely Patty powered).

This particular “appliance” for lack of a better word, is not designed very well as the fruit pulp just slips around the funnel shape because the “pestle” doesn’t fit flat against the the funnel side. And thereby comes a story.

The year we moved into this house I was putting items in a large box I called the “blessing box” (an idea stolen from a friend) consisting of things I no longer needed or had room for as our new home was a downsizing move. Unfortunately, I had put my mother’s apple sieve, which was very efficiently designed, on top of the items in “the box”. I went to a church retreat on this particular weekend and Dean had a garage sale. He was proud of helping clear out the house along with the garage, for when I returned home, the blessing box was empty. Needless to say, I was not pronouncing blessings upon him at that point.

That brings me to this Christmas. My son, Jeff, knows how frustrating it is to use Grandma Diehl’s apple sieve so when he saw a smaller version of my mother’s sieve at a friend’s house, he asked if he could buy it. His friend promptly gave it to him and he, in turn, gave it to me for Christmas. 

Now, back to the apple preservation. After the apple sauce preparation came the fruit leather trial. This necessitated the use of blender AND food processor (I clearly did not have the tools for a rapid, streamlined operation). I eventually poured apple puree onto two greased trays and started the dehydrator. While it was doing its work, my “new” apple sieve was initiated into service in the Diehl kitchen.

The next attempt was drying apple slices and I figured I had just the thing as my dehydrator manual had referenced the Presto Salad Shooter for just such a task. Maybe if the apples are nicely firm this appliance (it’s run by electricity:) fits the bill. These little apples were very ripe so the Salad Shooter just made a clogged up mess of mush. After several uncloggings I got smart and just tried a one-shot apple corer that divides the apple into 8ths (not an appliance--it's Patty-powered).

I’m happy to say these varied forms of apple preservation all taste good, but my efforts were less than a stellar success. I do have some bags of frozen apple sauce, the “dried” pieces of apples have been quite tasty, and the apple leather has not yet molded (I didn’t get it spread to a uniform thinness). I think we can get the leather eaten before that happens--the mold formation, that is.

Adventure

Adventure is rarely a word used in the everyday conversation of someone my age and stage in life, but it’s been on my mind recently. Instead of quoting a dictionary definition of adventure, here's how I would describe it.

Adventure is an out of the ordinary experience, anticipated with excitement and perhaps at least some fear. It can incorporate new locales, different relationships, or varied activities perhaps never attempted before. The descriptive phrases could continue, but these will suffice for now.

As I reviewed my past 47 years of adventures with Dean, I encountered these flashbacks—traveling to Calgary for the Stampede back when a passport wasn’t necessary to cross the border from Montana USA into Canada, attending an Eastern Shoshone Sun Dance ceremony on the Ft. Washakie Indian reservation (I taught there for three years), and taking off across the boondocks in a pick-up that didn’t look like it could get up the small “mountain” Dean assured me it could climb.

Those experiences all happened in our first five years of acquaintance/marriage. Multiply the experiences by the years and I participated in lots of adventures—some of which I dragged my feet, mightily. Since I always considered myself the “sane one” in these adventures (that could be translated “fraidy-cat”), I found myself wondering if I would ever experience another adventure (outside of Heaven) now that my adventurous partner is gone.

Actually, I now believe the answer is “yes,” I can experience more adventures aside from my final, most glorious one. The reading for January 1 in Jesus Calling spoke so beautifully to this idea. Sarah Young writes that Jesus wants us to come to Him with a teachable spirit, not clinging to old ways as we enter this new year. She finishes her paraphrase with, “Give yourself fully to this adventure of increasing attentiveness to My Presence.”

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

Adventure = anticipation (no fear necessary) since I know Who is planning it. BRING IT ON, 2015.