The Ladies Page


It was a Saturday morning the five of us chose for our unusual
outing. It was an unusual combination, age-wise. There were the two
young women of twenty one, and three of us who revolve around
sixty. We settled on a Saturday morning because that was the only
morning we could get together.

The birds weren’t too cooperative but the deer were out full
force. Mary and I had just finished painting the trim on the house.
We weren’t thinking too clearly. Somehow Mary led our new
daughter-in-law to believe we were leaving at four o’clock.
Poor Andrea was up and waiting before we were out of bed. Finally
the telephone rang as I was struggling into my last shoe.
‘Oh,’ came a sleepy voice over the wire, ‘I thought you
had gone off without me.’

‘Oh, you poor thing,’ I sympathized, ‘What time did
you get up?’

‘About three thirty,’ she answered with a slight edge in
her voice.

‘We’ll be right there,’ I assured her. Mary hops
into the car and picks her up while I gather the last of our
supplies together. Then we sit down to wait. One of our
sixty-year-olds is driving out from Brandon. After sitting for
about fifteen minutes we decide to use the telephone again.

‘Oh, I thought you were going to pick me up,’ she

‘Oh, sorry,’ we have to go through Waupun,’ I

‘Be right there,’ she answered. About ten minutes later
she zoomed right past our driveway, realized what she had done,
turned around and came back. By now we were laughing hilariously at
all our stupidity.

‘Well I made it,’ she added, laughing as hard as the
rest of us. ‘Nothing like getting an early start.’ She
panted with exertion as she settled herself and her contribution to
our breakfast in the back seat.

In Waupun we picked up another partner, this one a little plus
sixty. She was sitting serenely on her front steps waiting. I think
she knows more about bird watching than the rest of us put
together. We were chasing the birds all away with our mixed-up

After some more merriment about our timetables we were on our
way, binoculars, bird books, and bees in our bonnets. We were
headed for Briggsville. This is where there are supposed to be
hundreds of bluebirds. We were certain we would see at least twenty
that is if we weren’t too late.

As we drove along we got to confessing our hangups. We all
admitted we procrastinated. I was beginning to think we should have
put off going on this trip. The sun was not going to shine for us.
The clouds hung rather heavily in the morning sky. The birds would
not be eager to get out and sing their Hallelujahs all over the
place. But as we neared Briggsville the deer population sent out
welcoming committees. Twelve in all hopped through our morning
experience, the one with such a long flag he resembled a ghost who
had overstayed the night and was leaping back to the phantom haunts
of writhe like creatures such as he. We waved him on his way and
even shouted a reprimand after him to remind him of his

Andrea spied two gray and white sad faced cows with whom she
just had to carry on a mooing conversation. I ‘began to be glad
there were no little white wagons around. I think she Was trying to
psychoanalyze them to see why they looked so dreadfully sad. She is
a nurse and surely her mind works this way.

We found a delightful marshy place where there was freshly mowed
hay. Here is where Mr. and Mrs. Bobwhite marched across the road in
front of our parked car. Here were Bobolinks, Cardinals, Cowbirds,
Goldfinches, Red-headed Woodpeckers, and others we found hard to
identify. We left this place with regret but we were getting hungry
and had to find a place we could fix our bacon and eggs on the

The Town Hall in one particular township around Briggsville has
a sizeable body of water beside it and a sandy beach. Here is where
we arrived just as it began to drizzle slightly. Had the
temperature been a bit more cooperative we really wouldn’t have
minded, but one needed a sweater and a jacket. Two of us had only
taken sweaters. Two weeks later I am still nursing a cold.

But, suffice it to say, we had a marvelous time. Bacon and eggs
never tasted better. Andrea and Mary went into stitches about Aunt
Margaret carrying her instant coffee in a psycho delic-colored
envelope. ‘How shocking,’ they commented dryly. ‘You
never can tell what these older folks are going to do, you

All in all, we had such a good time. Why don’t you ladies
try it sometime ? We were so weary of paint and paint brushes. Our
fifth lady May me had been to just too many meetings for any good.
Aunt Margaret has an ailing husband. She dropped her care and worry
for a while. But we only saw one bluebird. Really, who cares? We
dropped all our concerns for a little while in God’s great
out-of-doors and came home wonderfully restored. We will remember
it for months to come, and I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if we
try it again next summer. Maybe, then we will get started on time,
and talk with the bluebirds instead. Bluebirds are a symbol of
happiness. And our cup runneth over already. How about that?

Farm Collector Magazine
Farm Collector Magazine
Dedicated to the Preservation of Vintage Farm Equipment