THE HANDS OF A FARMING WIFE

Beets, more beets but this time red beets and pickling. This afternoon I pulled a bunch up and fed the greens to the pig and then after my CHECK ENGINE car stuff (read below) I spent two hours peeling and slicing. When Gwen got in this afternoon it was up to her to make the pickling brine, jar the red beauties and get them into the pressure cooker. I just loved how the photos came out so I am starting today's DO NEWS with those photos first. I have a thing about doors and about sleek metal motorbikes in front of old “organic” buidings (you will know this if you followed my photo journey through Spain in the summer of 2011) and also working hands (if you followed me through the fish markets of Chile earlier this year.). Today I shot THE HANDS OF A FARMING WIFE. This is nothing feminsit or non-feminist. I call it that because I was shooting Gwen's working hands mostly from the left and many shots captured her wedding ring.

And now onto... The Rest of the Story (Ha - I'm sounding like Paul Harvey. He wasn't from West Virginia though, he was from Tulsa.)

Where is my camera crew? Why are they not following me? I have so many priceless moments.

I went into town to check my email and confirm my way point hosts and my date for arrival to the sheep dairy farm in Wisconsin then I headed off to fuel up my car. I am not all that pleased with gas prices around these parts but what do I know. Perhaps the prices are just as bad ($3.50 per gallon) back in Massachusetts. Over my adult life I have seen a pattern. When the driving population has the free time to travel gas prices mysteriously rise in the USA. I don't think it is supply and demand. There's plenty of gas and oil. It's the oil companies taking advantage of the consumer. That is just a theory but I think it is a pretty good one. Watch once September rolls around and school starts. The price of gas will hold steady or reduce. Anyway, my car needed fuel and it now has been fed. Early Thursday morning I will be ON THE ROAD AGAIN.

I have enjoyed driving the sharp curves and abrupt inclines of this part of West Virginia but it will be nice to reacquaint myself with fifth gear. I love my MAZDA PROTEGE though my old NISSAN SENTRA SER would have had more power on the hills. Both had/have five on the floor but the NISSAN had a heavier engine. NOTE TO SELF: Come back and visit this area again but not in the snow. I would break a back tooth from the stress of maneuvering these byways in winter conditions.

So why the need for a film crew? Because of my chats with the locals. I loe meeting locals wherever I go. My CHECK ENGINE light lit up on my way to the farm ten days ago and as I hadn't dealt with it yet. I am pretty sureIt is a small vapor thing but as I need to drive for three days to get to Grantsburg, Wisconsin I would feel much more comfortable without the idiot light shining.

The auto shop was empty when I arrived except for a man behind a desk. I asked for Jim and that is who it was. Jim is 65 years old. He wore a greasy well worn baseball cap, had white hair and a full yellow/white beard and was missing his front teeth. I explained that I had been referred to him by the owners of the farm whre I was working, that I had a stuck CHECK ENGINE light, that I was sure there wasn't any real problem (just a vapor thing), and that I needed him to reset it. He directed me to pull my car into the bay. After I pulled it in I slid the driver's seat back and left the keys in the ignition. He got his CHECK ENGINE light reset device and hooked it to something under the dashboard. It took a little time register a reading.

Another fellow came into the garage and we started to chat. I told him that my daddy had taught me how to do a tune up on my old car (daddy? Yup - I was twanging away) but that was before all this computerized stuff. It was back when a car had a carburetor, dual points and things anyone could understand. Then I began talking about the price of gas. He was interested in just who the heck I was.

Meet the Richie County Sheriff. He introduced himself as Sheriff Bacchas then asked what I was doing around these parts being I had a Massachusetts license plate and all. I explained that I was volunteering on a farm down on Pullman Road. He didn't know Gwen and Bruce. That might be a good thing. No trouble there. We had a lovely chat as Jim waited for the meter device to finish reading things. “I am waiting for my meter to communicate with her car.”

All re-set. Nothing terribly wrong at all. I was good to go. “How much do I owe you?” I asked.

He replied with a head shake, “No matter.”

“Well thank you for your southern kindness. That is if you consider West Virginia to be the south, I am not sure.”

Jim laughed showing me a big smile through his missing teeth. “I'm from Virginia so I AM a southerner. It's fine.”

In my closing remarks to the Sheriff I noted that I felt better having that light off as I was going on a three day drive to work on another farm in Wisconsin. I thought his response was perfect (see the post of a few days ago regarding preconceptions and stereotypes.)

“Well take care. Those people up there are a bit different.”

“Sheriff, they're a bit different around these parts too. Actually, in reality we are all more or less about the same no matter where we are from.”

In closing the non-beet photos are not of Jim's garage but of a museum that I passed on the main drag The place was closed. I didn't call for an appointment. Check out the photo with the sign in the window. It suggests that I call up front so as to not be disappointed. I love the old gas pumps outside.

 

I DO believe my next post will be from a NEW STATE.  I have never been to Indiana before. I have to drive through Ohio to get to Indiana so it will be a DO NEW DRIVE.  My host emailed me about going to a outside jazz event plus his best friend is a porteno (Argentine from the port city of Buenos Aires).  It will be FUN!