| July/August 1959

Country Echoes

MAE BABER, R. D. 2, Brandon, Wisconsin

IT MAY BE THIS PARTICULAR summer morning that one of our Steam Engine Brothers is searching in vain for a tail pipe for his tender or a fan for his flues. (I wish I understood these things).

Indeed, you have a problem! Well now, don't ever think you are alone in this. So have I. Mine, however, is of quite a different nature. You answer it for me, if you can.

How does one suddenly project herself from January to July? Here I sit, cozily, near a radiantly warm register trying to write this column for July or August, perhaps even September. How does one anticipate what Aunt Lene might do? She's a woman too, and the species do react unexpectedly at times.

Ah me! The last thing I remember from yesterday is the tank truck for our milk at 9:30 P. M., and the milkman telling my husband it was the seventh place he had made all day out of his forty-two stops. There is snow to the 'left of us' and 'snow to the right of us' and while it doesn't 'volley and thunder' it surely rolls. Wisconsin hasn't been treated to a blizzard like this one for several years. I needed a junior size snow plow before the day was over to get through the popcorn which one of our sons popped in three installments. 'Morning, afternoon, and evening it's popcorn' is John's slogan. In the afternoon session it was gooey, sticky particles that would not cooperate with one another to form balls so this was happily consumed via adhesive teaspoons. Do you know of what I was reminded?