stjwelding
Veteran Member
Thank Pac.
Wayne
Wayne
Story So that your love may be complete.
- Thread starter PacNorWest
- Start date
Never thought of winding twine around my shoes. I might have to try that - we always have twine down by the corrals. Of course, UNwinding it might be like taking twine off the manure spreader! Thanks so much for your stories, Pac. They are just one of the bright spots in my day.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Thank you Pac, We raised Yak for a few years, and when our cow had her calf out in the woods, it was hard to get near her, the bull yak wouldn't even let the mama cow near her calf. We had shoo him off and the female yak, grab the calf and take it to the barn so mama could nurse him.
We used to cut up burlap sacks and tie them to our boots with twine. Worked real well. What also works extremely well are golf shoes!
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#98
Clora was going to run to the barn to take a peek at the new foal, but when she found out how slippery it was outside, she postponed her curiosity. With her foot the way it was and carrying three babies all bundled up, it sounded like a recipe for disaster.
Instead she and Helga planned the desserts for the birthday party; and as the freezing rain continued to fall and create a glassy coating over everything, they kept revising the amount downward. Concerned, they prayed that people would stay home during such trying conditions.
Whatever outside work had been planned for the day, went on hold. It was so nice to be inside next to the stove, no one wanted to move. The only one busy was Mark. He was humming around the house with his 'bug locators' investigating every nook and cranny available. He found three more listening devices and they joined their counterparts in a watery death.
Late in the afternoon as the barn crew came in, tree branches started snapping under the weight of the ice. Sounding like rifle shots, the Hickory, Ash and Oak dropped brittle, frozen branches.
Where Mark had Tom clear away trees close to the house, the structure was free from the danger of toppling trees.
John made his first solo walk from a chair to Clora's waiting arms, and Liz was yelling her displeasure at not being able to follow. Sam went over and held her hand and chubby baby legs wobbled after her brother.
Luke was sitting on the floor not paying any attention to the other two, totally uninterested in expending that much energy.
Supper and the well deserved rest that comes after a full day of chores and work, quietly morphed into an early bedtime.
Sunday, the day of church and birthday party was a repeat of the previous day. So was Monday and Tuesday. The only thing moving in the outside world was Wayne as he drove to work and back home, his four wheel drive pickup chained on all four wheels for traction.
Wednesday he was on his way home early in the afternoon and stopped by for a quick visit. Welcomed in, he had to have coffee and cookies.
"It's a good thing we've had such bad weather. It's basically kept people home, so the explosive dispute between the two sides of the 'love' shooting haven't had much contact. All the phone and electric lines are down in town, and it's so slick that nobody is out and about." Wayne had tons of information to share.
"The senior center is doing OK, they have everyone in the main hall with the huge fireplace for warmth. I understand meals are a little sketchy, but all are getting by. Gene is staying in town at the Sheriff's office, and I brought Karen home with me last night. She's quite a knitter so she's teaching Millie and Adoree, and their busy working on baby things."
Clora smiled and pushed the cookie plate closer to Wayne. He obliged by snagging a couple more. They chatted and when Wayne got up to leave, he asked Mark to come out on the porch for a moment. "We got word through a teletype that the Hall brothers are going to disrupt a major political meeting; but it wasn't known where. Just thought you might want to know about it."
"Yeah, thanks." Mark was perturbed but helpless to affect the outcome. "This kind of news is so hard on Warren, I almost wish he didn't have to hear about it."
"I have more bad news," Wayne was grim. "That newspaper reporter that Ankney got involved in your arrest has decided to write a book about you and your exploits during the war. Somehow he then found out about Pete and is researching that connection. He wants to dredge up all the old hurts, lies and spooky spy stuff he can, emphasizing the fact that any one of the three of us pulled a trigger and could be responsible for Pete's death." Wayne took a deep breathe and shuddered. "I'd really like to keep that part of our lives in the past."
"I'll talk to Clora," Mark promised.
Clora was going to run to the barn to take a peek at the new foal, but when she found out how slippery it was outside, she postponed her curiosity. With her foot the way it was and carrying three babies all bundled up, it sounded like a recipe for disaster.
Instead she and Helga planned the desserts for the birthday party; and as the freezing rain continued to fall and create a glassy coating over everything, they kept revising the amount downward. Concerned, they prayed that people would stay home during such trying conditions.
Whatever outside work had been planned for the day, went on hold. It was so nice to be inside next to the stove, no one wanted to move. The only one busy was Mark. He was humming around the house with his 'bug locators' investigating every nook and cranny available. He found three more listening devices and they joined their counterparts in a watery death.
Late in the afternoon as the barn crew came in, tree branches started snapping under the weight of the ice. Sounding like rifle shots, the Hickory, Ash and Oak dropped brittle, frozen branches.
Where Mark had Tom clear away trees close to the house, the structure was free from the danger of toppling trees.
John made his first solo walk from a chair to Clora's waiting arms, and Liz was yelling her displeasure at not being able to follow. Sam went over and held her hand and chubby baby legs wobbled after her brother.
Luke was sitting on the floor not paying any attention to the other two, totally uninterested in expending that much energy.
Supper and the well deserved rest that comes after a full day of chores and work, quietly morphed into an early bedtime.
Sunday, the day of church and birthday party was a repeat of the previous day. So was Monday and Tuesday. The only thing moving in the outside world was Wayne as he drove to work and back home, his four wheel drive pickup chained on all four wheels for traction.
Wednesday he was on his way home early in the afternoon and stopped by for a quick visit. Welcomed in, he had to have coffee and cookies.
"It's a good thing we've had such bad weather. It's basically kept people home, so the explosive dispute between the two sides of the 'love' shooting haven't had much contact. All the phone and electric lines are down in town, and it's so slick that nobody is out and about." Wayne had tons of information to share.
"The senior center is doing OK, they have everyone in the main hall with the huge fireplace for warmth. I understand meals are a little sketchy, but all are getting by. Gene is staying in town at the Sheriff's office, and I brought Karen home with me last night. She's quite a knitter so she's teaching Millie and Adoree, and their busy working on baby things."
Clora smiled and pushed the cookie plate closer to Wayne. He obliged by snagging a couple more. They chatted and when Wayne got up to leave, he asked Mark to come out on the porch for a moment. "We got word through a teletype that the Hall brothers are going to disrupt a major political meeting; but it wasn't known where. Just thought you might want to know about it."
"Yeah, thanks." Mark was perturbed but helpless to affect the outcome. "This kind of news is so hard on Warren, I almost wish he didn't have to hear about it."
"I have more bad news," Wayne was grim. "That newspaper reporter that Ankney got involved in your arrest has decided to write a book about you and your exploits during the war. Somehow he then found out about Pete and is researching that connection. He wants to dredge up all the old hurts, lies and spooky spy stuff he can, emphasizing the fact that any one of the three of us pulled a trigger and could be responsible for Pete's death." Wayne took a deep breathe and shuddered. "I'd really like to keep that part of our lives in the past."
"I'll talk to Clora," Mark promised.
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Very nice Pac, thank you.
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Thanks Pac, I don't think I would like anyone writing a book about my life, not that I have anything to hide, it's just that it is my life and i believe that it is my choice who I share it with. As for Peat I have to agree with Wayne let the past stay buried no good can come from dredging it up, except for a reporter making a name for himself at the expense of someone else that had no other choice at that time, not to mention there might be someone hiding in the shadows that has no morals who doesn't want that indecent brought to light.
Wayne
Wayne
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#99
Clora wasn't happy to hear about the upcoming expose. "Of all the rotten luck, let's hope he gets sidetracked and off on another project. I don't want him digging around in your past either. I'm not ashamed of what you had to do, but I don't believe it's healthy for you to be continuously reminded of that chapter in your life."
"Thank you for your stanch support sweetheart, but that's part of accepting the job in the first place. You have done so much for me and I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart." Mark went to give Clora a hug, and immediately Lou asked in a scared voice, "Yer not gonna kiss her, are you?"
"I sure am, don't watch if it bothers you." Mark eased Clora toward him and gave her a large smooch.
Then laughed as Lou held his hands over his eyes and went running from the kitchen.
"Ahh, iss muches goots ideas," and Karl walked over to plant a smoochy kiss on Helga's cheek, waving at Lou who was peeking around the corner to watch. He laughed deep and loud, "Ahh keeds, vait untills theys grows up."
"Dad," Milo interrupted, "if you guys are done with all the kissing stuff, can we go outside and look through that one shed. Robert said he would stand guard for us, so we're covered that way."
"Sure, let us know if you find anything interesting."
Boy's from all over the house ran for their coats and winter gear. One morning inside and they were already desperately looking for better adventure.
Helga was cooking a lentil and ham scrap soup with black beans and the last of the broken spaghetti ends that were in the bottom of the gallon jar. It promised to be a great lunch.
Clora wasn't happy to hear about the upcoming expose. "Of all the rotten luck, let's hope he gets sidetracked and off on another project. I don't want him digging around in your past either. I'm not ashamed of what you had to do, but I don't believe it's healthy for you to be continuously reminded of that chapter in your life."
"Thank you for your stanch support sweetheart, but that's part of accepting the job in the first place. You have done so much for me and I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart." Mark went to give Clora a hug, and immediately Lou asked in a scared voice, "Yer not gonna kiss her, are you?"
"I sure am, don't watch if it bothers you." Mark eased Clora toward him and gave her a large smooch.
Then laughed as Lou held his hands over his eyes and went running from the kitchen.
"Ahh, iss muches goots ideas," and Karl walked over to plant a smoochy kiss on Helga's cheek, waving at Lou who was peeking around the corner to watch. He laughed deep and loud, "Ahh keeds, vait untills theys grows up."
"Dad," Milo interrupted, "if you guys are done with all the kissing stuff, can we go outside and look through that one shed. Robert said he would stand guard for us, so we're covered that way."
"Sure, let us know if you find anything interesting."
Boy's from all over the house ran for their coats and winter gear. One morning inside and they were already desperately looking for better adventure.
Helga was cooking a lentil and ham scrap soup with black beans and the last of the broken spaghetti ends that were in the bottom of the gallon jar. It promised to be a great lunch.
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Thanks Pac nothing like parents kissing to clear the room of children. 
Wayne
Wayne
Catshooter
Contributing Member
What, no Cliff? It must be a holiday . . .
Cat
Cat
Catshooter
Contributing Member
Verily you speak the truth kua. It wasn't all that long ago that I read everything of hers from front to here. I should have counted the Cliffs! I do miss ol' Cliff though, he is extremely entertaining don't you think?
Cat
Cat
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#99b
It was sharp eyed Milo that discovered the false wall in the back of the shed. As a group they puzzled how to get into the small space until Milo said, " I'm gonna go get Dad and Mr. Karl."
The big boys were as intrigued as the younger ones and it was a splendid mystery for a slow day. Mark and Karl used a pick and a breaking bar to unhinge the first board. The homemade nails were almost a half inch thick and five inches long, driven solidly on each end, into the eight by eight timbers that served as the shed corner posts.
"They really meant for this to stay hidden," Mark muttered under his breath. "Milo take my tape measure and see if you can determine how deep this secret cavity is by measuring from here to the end and then again on the outside."
Teddy was right there to keep track of the measurements Milo called out, and they figured the compartment must be at least two feet wide, running the back length of the shed.
"Measure the back wall, to see how wide this is, it must be at least sixteen feet," Mark estimated. It took an hour's worth of work to get the one end of the four by six freed from the post. They had three more posts to go, and there was no prying the cross timber back far enough to peer into the dark hole. There were seven of the nails at each brace and in the end. They were made to hold tight, and they were.
It was cold and windy and Sam and Lou finally gave up and had to go back to the house. The sat at the table with hot chocolate and cookies and told Clora and Helga all about the 'special place.'
It was hard to get the guys to stop and come in for lunch, they were deep in the mystery, and although Robert suggested they use the chain saw to cut the timbers flush with the posts, neither Mark or Karl wanted to ruin the wood.
"I don't know what type of wood this is, but it's in fantastic shape for it's age; and it appears to have been here for a long time. It's easy to see the kerff marks of the saw blade, and the board isn't totally straight, so it was cut a long time ago. In fact, what I can feel on the back side," and Mark nearly got his fingers pinched for his trouble;" feels like this was hewn with an ax, and just the one side cut by a saw."
Over lunch, a thousand theories were tested as to what might be in the space. "It might be empty," Mark said during a lull in the conversation and all the boys turned unhappy faces his way.
"I don't think so, logically, there would be no reason to go to the time and trouble if you didn't intend to hide something of value;" Teddy was applying hard reasoning to the situation.
"True, but what ever is in there has been there a long time and may have rotted away. I don't want you kids to get your hopes up high," Mark finished, as he put his last spoonful of soup in his mouth.
That little piece of conversation caused Clora and Helga to snort. "Hah! All of you are on pins and needles waiting to get into that space," Clora teased. "But you'd really better get a move on, there's only about four more hours of daylight and what happens if this has to carry over until tomorrow?"
There were groans all up and down the table. No one wanted to wait that long. The crew was full, warmed up and ready to tackle prying the rest of the nails loose.
They got the timber off just at dusk. Mark's flashlight illuminated long crates that were nailed shut stacked the height of the enclosure.
Way down on the other end, Milo was wiggling his arm into the dark hole. "There's a pan in here, like the one Ma puts on the stove, I can see a whole bunch of handles, there's lot's of'um."
Mark went down to the left side of the shed and used his more powerful light to investigate what Milo had found. He wiggled out a rust encrusted cast iron frying pan that was every bit as big as Clora's #12.
"Tomorrow," he promised, "we'll get another board off and see what treasures are in there. Let's everyone help with chores so we can get done in a hurry. We spent too much time in here this afternoon."
Karl was already coming out of the house with the milk pails and the pail of wash water. Teddy took the pan to the house and got the egg basket in return. Chores were done in a hurry and they all rushed back to the warmth of the kitchen.
It was sleeting and raining frozen rain once again, telling the students there would be no school again tomorrow. That suited them just fine. It was too exciting to contemplate what might be in the crates and why so many frying pans were there, hidden in the shed.
Helga had put the pan on the floor near the stove to gradually warm up. "What good is that thing gonna be?" Gary wanted to know. "It's all full of gunk and stuff."
"I think it might be quite a find Gary," Clora looked at the pan. "I believe we can clean it up and it will be good as new."
"There must be close to 20..25 handles I can see, also some three legged covered ovens, one of them is really big," Mark savored the chicken pot pie with steaming vegetables and flakey crust. "It's the crates that have me interested. I think we might have stumbled onto a fantastic find;" he paused to build up suspense. "Those nailed shut crates are marked CSA, and I'll bet a dollar to a donut they have rifles in them."
That got everyone talking all at once. "Hey," Gary had to shout loudly to be heard over the general noise. "What does CSA mean?"
It was sharp eyed Milo that discovered the false wall in the back of the shed. As a group they puzzled how to get into the small space until Milo said, " I'm gonna go get Dad and Mr. Karl."
The big boys were as intrigued as the younger ones and it was a splendid mystery for a slow day. Mark and Karl used a pick and a breaking bar to unhinge the first board. The homemade nails were almost a half inch thick and five inches long, driven solidly on each end, into the eight by eight timbers that served as the shed corner posts.
"They really meant for this to stay hidden," Mark muttered under his breath. "Milo take my tape measure and see if you can determine how deep this secret cavity is by measuring from here to the end and then again on the outside."
Teddy was right there to keep track of the measurements Milo called out, and they figured the compartment must be at least two feet wide, running the back length of the shed.
"Measure the back wall, to see how wide this is, it must be at least sixteen feet," Mark estimated. It took an hour's worth of work to get the one end of the four by six freed from the post. They had three more posts to go, and there was no prying the cross timber back far enough to peer into the dark hole. There were seven of the nails at each brace and in the end. They were made to hold tight, and they were.
It was cold and windy and Sam and Lou finally gave up and had to go back to the house. The sat at the table with hot chocolate and cookies and told Clora and Helga all about the 'special place.'
It was hard to get the guys to stop and come in for lunch, they were deep in the mystery, and although Robert suggested they use the chain saw to cut the timbers flush with the posts, neither Mark or Karl wanted to ruin the wood.
"I don't know what type of wood this is, but it's in fantastic shape for it's age; and it appears to have been here for a long time. It's easy to see the kerff marks of the saw blade, and the board isn't totally straight, so it was cut a long time ago. In fact, what I can feel on the back side," and Mark nearly got his fingers pinched for his trouble;" feels like this was hewn with an ax, and just the one side cut by a saw."
Over lunch, a thousand theories were tested as to what might be in the space. "It might be empty," Mark said during a lull in the conversation and all the boys turned unhappy faces his way.
"I don't think so, logically, there would be no reason to go to the time and trouble if you didn't intend to hide something of value;" Teddy was applying hard reasoning to the situation.
"True, but what ever is in there has been there a long time and may have rotted away. I don't want you kids to get your hopes up high," Mark finished, as he put his last spoonful of soup in his mouth.
That little piece of conversation caused Clora and Helga to snort. "Hah! All of you are on pins and needles waiting to get into that space," Clora teased. "But you'd really better get a move on, there's only about four more hours of daylight and what happens if this has to carry over until tomorrow?"
There were groans all up and down the table. No one wanted to wait that long. The crew was full, warmed up and ready to tackle prying the rest of the nails loose.
They got the timber off just at dusk. Mark's flashlight illuminated long crates that were nailed shut stacked the height of the enclosure.
Way down on the other end, Milo was wiggling his arm into the dark hole. "There's a pan in here, like the one Ma puts on the stove, I can see a whole bunch of handles, there's lot's of'um."
Mark went down to the left side of the shed and used his more powerful light to investigate what Milo had found. He wiggled out a rust encrusted cast iron frying pan that was every bit as big as Clora's #12.
"Tomorrow," he promised, "we'll get another board off and see what treasures are in there. Let's everyone help with chores so we can get done in a hurry. We spent too much time in here this afternoon."
Karl was already coming out of the house with the milk pails and the pail of wash water. Teddy took the pan to the house and got the egg basket in return. Chores were done in a hurry and they all rushed back to the warmth of the kitchen.
It was sleeting and raining frozen rain once again, telling the students there would be no school again tomorrow. That suited them just fine. It was too exciting to contemplate what might be in the crates and why so many frying pans were there, hidden in the shed.
Helga had put the pan on the floor near the stove to gradually warm up. "What good is that thing gonna be?" Gary wanted to know. "It's all full of gunk and stuff."
"I think it might be quite a find Gary," Clora looked at the pan. "I believe we can clean it up and it will be good as new."
"There must be close to 20..25 handles I can see, also some three legged covered ovens, one of them is really big," Mark savored the chicken pot pie with steaming vegetables and flakey crust. "It's the crates that have me interested. I think we might have stumbled onto a fantastic find;" he paused to build up suspense. "Those nailed shut crates are marked CSA, and I'll bet a dollar to a donut they have rifles in them."
That got everyone talking all at once. "Hey," Gary had to shout loudly to be heard over the general noise. "What does CSA mean?"
Catshooter
Contributing Member
There's my buddy! Heya Cliff ol' pal!
Cat
Cat
Catshooter
Contributing Member
I am a bad monkey.
Thanks Mrs. Pac! MOAR Cliffs please!
Man, what I would give to run across a stash of old cast iron. I'd love to have Clora's skillet, and eBay has 'em, but oh the prices. And the great big pots? Oh my.
Cat
Thanks Mrs. Pac! MOAR Cliffs please!
Man, what I would give to run across a stash of old cast iron. I'd love to have Clora's skillet, and eBay has 'em, but oh the prices. And the great big pots? Oh my.
Cat
Catshooter
Contributing Member
A new frying pan? A? That woman is a saint. Hope there is a whole treasure trove of old iron behind door #1.
Cat
Cat
Sammy55
Veteran Member
I echo OA, Pac! Muches thanks to you and God for the blessings that you bring and that you are!!
Old Gray Mare
TB Fanatic
Skillet? How about a Gatling gun? A piece of field artillery? Maybe they will find some bronze along with the cast iron. Dang that ol' Cliff! Thanks again PAC. Your stories have more turns than a tight spring!
Nature_Lover
Wait! What?
Oh goodness.
Cat asked for a Cliff, and we get one big enough to drive a convertible off of it.
Thanks Cat.
Ok, if the crates hold guns, the CSA might just mean Confederate States of America, which existed as a confederacy of secessionist states during the Civil War from 1861 through 1865. Those crates might hold muskets.
Am I the only reader who thought the cast iron might actually be rhodium?
Nice cliff Pac. I love it. Thank you.
Cat asked for a Cliff, and we get one big enough to drive a convertible off of it.
Thanks Cat.
Ok, if the crates hold guns, the CSA might just mean Confederate States of America, which existed as a confederacy of secessionist states during the Civil War from 1861 through 1865. Those crates might hold muskets.
Am I the only reader who thought the cast iron might actually be rhodium?
Nice cliff Pac. I love it. Thank you.
cat killer
Senior Member
I was thinking the same thing.Oh goodness.
Cat asked for a Cliff, and we get one big enough to drive a convertible off of it.
Thanks Cat.
Ok, if the crates hold guns, the CSA might just mean Confederate States of America, which existed as a confederacy of secessionist states during the Civil War from 1861 through 1865. Those crates might hold muskets.
Am I the only reader who thought the cast iron might actually be rhodium?
Nice cliff Pac. I love it. Thank you.
Catshooter
Contributing Member
I assumed CSA meant the Confederates, maybe incorrectly, but they are in the south.
And you're welcome for the Cliff. I love 'em. Admit it, y'all do too!
Cat
And you're welcome for the Cliff. I love 'em. Admit it, y'all do too!
Cat
Last edited:
Lake Lili
Veteran Member
Morning Pac! I am worried that the family's, particularly Mark's, canned elk is getting low. So I found them a company that sells canned elk by the case: The Meat Maniac in Richmond, TX. Its a bit pricey at $7.99 a can but Mark might feel its worth the price.
Have a great day, Lili
Have a great day, Lili
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
Folks
I have discovered via a news paper article, that North Carolina is going to have a Elk hunting season sometime during the next two years. Transplanted Elk are flourishing after being hunted to extinction. Hee Hee, Mark will not be able to get away from the meat he despises. Pac.
I have discovered via a news paper article, that North Carolina is going to have a Elk hunting season sometime during the next two years. Transplanted Elk are flourishing after being hunted to extinction. Hee Hee, Mark will not be able to get away from the meat he despises. Pac.
stjwelding
Veteran Member
Thanks for the info Pac. Praying for you and yours.
Wayne
Wayne
Oh, how wicked that is, Mrs. Pac! Even after escaping the cataclysm of the West Coast, Mark still can't catch a break... He needs to become a rancher, and raise his own beef, or better yet, bison, for grins and giggles... Think of trying to keep those furry monsters penned-up... NOT!!! It would, however, keep them all out of mischief... Maybe...
God Bless You, Mrs. Pac!
Maranatha
OA
sssarawolf
Has No Life - Lives on TB
Oh my I have to know whats in those crates Confederate States of America huh wowwwwwwwwwwwww.
Confederate States of America huh wowwwwwwwwwwwww.
Dosadi
Brown Coat
Thank you Mrs. PAC.
Been busy this morning and forgot to type a thank you.
Ol's Cliff is driving on in for a visit I see.
My first thought was the gold from Richmond that supposedly moved south. Frying pans cast of gold made to look like cast iron, maybe mixed in with cast iron.
Cases of something. Hummmm?
Unreconstructed Southron residing in the Occupied CSA. (Round two coming, and the munitions factories are moving south. :-)
LOL.
Now the large nails, I"m thinking that maybe either a secret door, or a tunnel leading up to the place from maybe a hand dug well or basement or other hidden place. That level of building wasn't intended to be opened up that way, but to be near impossible to open up. Who Knows? Why Mrs. PAC and ol' Cliff.
Dosadi
Been busy this morning and forgot to type a thank you.
Ol's Cliff is driving on in for a visit I see.
My first thought was the gold from Richmond that supposedly moved south. Frying pans cast of gold made to look like cast iron, maybe mixed in with cast iron.
Cases of something. Hummmm?
Unreconstructed Southron residing in the Occupied CSA. (Round two coming, and the munitions factories are moving south. :-)
LOL.
Now the large nails, I"m thinking that maybe either a secret door, or a tunnel leading up to the place from maybe a hand dug well or basement or other hidden place. That level of building wasn't intended to be opened up that way, but to be near impossible to open up. Who Knows? Why Mrs. PAC and ol' Cliff.
Dosadi
PacNorWest
Veteran Member
#100
Mark held up his hand to stem the excited talking. "We can't be certain Gary, but I am assuming that CSA stands for Confederate States of America. Now I understand you don't know what that means, and I will try to explain a little later, but at one time there was a war here in this area." Mark was faced with explaining a topic the child had no background or idea about.
"Like all wars, people were hurt, killed and impoverished; no matter which side they were on. To protect their future, some people hid items they thought would help them to live better after the war. Like frying pans, to cook the meat the rifles hunted. Now I'm going to ask a special favor of everybody here. I don't want you talking about this to anyone, we need to see what we have and what needs to be done with it. I know it's very exciting, but I want you to keep this family business only."
It was easy to see Gary and Lou didn't have a clue what Mark was asking. Mark was rubbing his chin in frustration, when Robert piped up. "Gary and Lou, it's like hiding food and not tellin about it, when we needed it later for be'in hungry. We ain't gonna talk about this to help Ma and Dad, 'cause they asked us nice not to." Just like that, the problem was solved for ten minutes or so.
Later that night when Mark and Clora were in bed, Mark said the things that had been bothering him about the find. "I wonder if we won't find a connection between the hidden room above us and the stash in the shed. Those items were securely hidden, like maybe a hurried shipment of stolen goods, or a last minute 'relocation' of items they didn't want found."
"Do you think they might be from the Civil war?"
"It has all the possibilities, but we won't be sure of course, until we see what's in the crates. They are certainly long enough boxes to be muskets, and they resemble most of the munitions boxes I've seen around the world." Mark yawned, it had been a long day.
"The thing is, what ever is hidden behind there wasn't ever meant to be moved out the way we are going in. We are going in the end of the tunnel, so to speak. So there is another way into the stash."
"Well, it sure beats worrying about some nosy reporter with itchy fingers. Do you want to make a bet how long it takes Gary to blurt out the 'secret' to the next person who comes in the door?" Clora chuckled. "I don't give him over ten minutes."
"He'd better behave," Mark growled, "we don't need the exposure a 'civil war' find would bring us; we'd have people swarming all over this place."
"We'll have to tape his mouth shut," ever practical Clora, could easily guess what was going to happen. "There will be no family secrets if he knows about them."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Mark finished his modified one armed lean against the wall push up. He had progressed to the point he could do three of the 'wallies' with his injured shoulder; and it made him feel better.
"Is it time that I put more medicine on your foot?"
"Yes please, it would be very welcome." Clora finished braiding her hair in a long twist. "I seem to be on my feet more than usual."
It was snowing the next morning, and that suited Mark well. The heavy deluge of white kept anyone passing by on the road from looking in and seeing the group working in the shed. Not that there was any traffic besides Wayne and Ankney, but the possibility existed.
They got another board un-nailed, but still couldn't see into the crates and they were too heavy to move. The stash of cast iron was a rare and fantastic find. There were 40 some pans of all shapes and sizes, some were spiders, some were flat bottomed and others were griddles, grills and gem pans. There were papers rolled in oilcloth that disintegrated when unrolled, spoiling the mystery.
Some of the skillets were wrapped in oilcloth and when Mark scraped the rust away, they were stamped 'Dixie Foundry' on the bottom.
"That gives us a starting place," Mark wiped the knife blade on his pants and handed the pan to Tess, "see if Ma can clean this one up."
Tess was happy to have a task that would take her to the house. It was rotten cold outside.
Mark held up his hand to stem the excited talking. "We can't be certain Gary, but I am assuming that CSA stands for Confederate States of America. Now I understand you don't know what that means, and I will try to explain a little later, but at one time there was a war here in this area." Mark was faced with explaining a topic the child had no background or idea about.
"Like all wars, people were hurt, killed and impoverished; no matter which side they were on. To protect their future, some people hid items they thought would help them to live better after the war. Like frying pans, to cook the meat the rifles hunted. Now I'm going to ask a special favor of everybody here. I don't want you talking about this to anyone, we need to see what we have and what needs to be done with it. I know it's very exciting, but I want you to keep this family business only."
It was easy to see Gary and Lou didn't have a clue what Mark was asking. Mark was rubbing his chin in frustration, when Robert piped up. "Gary and Lou, it's like hiding food and not tellin about it, when we needed it later for be'in hungry. We ain't gonna talk about this to help Ma and Dad, 'cause they asked us nice not to." Just like that, the problem was solved for ten minutes or so.
Later that night when Mark and Clora were in bed, Mark said the things that had been bothering him about the find. "I wonder if we won't find a connection between the hidden room above us and the stash in the shed. Those items were securely hidden, like maybe a hurried shipment of stolen goods, or a last minute 'relocation' of items they didn't want found."
"Do you think they might be from the Civil war?"
"It has all the possibilities, but we won't be sure of course, until we see what's in the crates. They are certainly long enough boxes to be muskets, and they resemble most of the munitions boxes I've seen around the world." Mark yawned, it had been a long day.
"The thing is, what ever is hidden behind there wasn't ever meant to be moved out the way we are going in. We are going in the end of the tunnel, so to speak. So there is another way into the stash."
"Well, it sure beats worrying about some nosy reporter with itchy fingers. Do you want to make a bet how long it takes Gary to blurt out the 'secret' to the next person who comes in the door?" Clora chuckled. "I don't give him over ten minutes."
"He'd better behave," Mark growled, "we don't need the exposure a 'civil war' find would bring us; we'd have people swarming all over this place."
"We'll have to tape his mouth shut," ever practical Clora, could easily guess what was going to happen. "There will be no family secrets if he knows about them."
"That's what I'm afraid of," Mark finished his modified one armed lean against the wall push up. He had progressed to the point he could do three of the 'wallies' with his injured shoulder; and it made him feel better.
"Is it time that I put more medicine on your foot?"
"Yes please, it would be very welcome." Clora finished braiding her hair in a long twist. "I seem to be on my feet more than usual."
It was snowing the next morning, and that suited Mark well. The heavy deluge of white kept anyone passing by on the road from looking in and seeing the group working in the shed. Not that there was any traffic besides Wayne and Ankney, but the possibility existed.
They got another board un-nailed, but still couldn't see into the crates and they were too heavy to move. The stash of cast iron was a rare and fantastic find. There were 40 some pans of all shapes and sizes, some were spiders, some were flat bottomed and others were griddles, grills and gem pans. There were papers rolled in oilcloth that disintegrated when unrolled, spoiling the mystery.
Some of the skillets were wrapped in oilcloth and when Mark scraped the rust away, they were stamped 'Dixie Foundry' on the bottom.
"That gives us a starting place," Mark wiped the knife blade on his pants and handed the pan to Tess, "see if Ma can clean this one up."
Tess was happy to have a task that would take her to the house. It was rotten cold outside.
Catshooter
Contributing Member
Sweet Cliff!!!
This looks like your cliff Mrs. Pac:
http://www.bing.com/images/search?q...a05987341d9e951de6bcd2394ee413b7o0&ajaxhist=0
This looks like your cliff Mrs. Pac:
http://www.bing.com/images/search?q...a05987341d9e951de6bcd2394ee413b7o0&ajaxhist=0
Last edited: