THE FARM

THE FARM Around the turn of the century, my grandmother, Beatrice Nora Lattimer was working in a store in the small town where she lived in Missouri. Riley Horn came in and they became acquainted. He must have had hair then, because when I met him he was in his fifties, bald, wore a hearing aid and was very grouchy. They married and lived in Missouri for a couple o years. She was always a little ashamed that she was about four yeas older than Riley and a bit taller. They had a son, Lauren, who died at about age two. Grandma told me that her first baby was born face first with a broken neck, She was pregnant a total of seven times. All of the sons and daughters died with a full head of hair. The recessive gene for baldness must have come from further back. They moved to eastern Colorado and settled near Brush on a quarter section of land. I think that is 640 acres but I could be wrong. They dry land farmed, no irrigation, what ever grew was harvested. Mom remembers dust storms that blew farms from one side of the road to the other. A friend of the family, Mr. Beers moved to Idaho and wrote back about the rich farmland. So about 1939 after a good harvent, they sold out moved to Idaho. A couple of the boys went on the freight train with horses and some goods. Riley drove the brand spanking new car to Idaho. They lived on various small farms looking around for a better place. Mom was a teenager painting the bedroom when the radio announced the bombing of Pearl Harbor. I think it was not until after the war that Riley purchased the farm on the slope. It was a small farm, about 40 acres. They kept a small dairy herd of about 30 40 cows. They were milked electronically twice a day. Ollie ran the seperator and a few gallons went to the house for Grandma Horn to skim and turn into butter. She had a chicken coop and kept a bunch of chickens I got to help scatter chicken feed and grandma gathered the eggs. Every week Riley drove them to town and she turned in her eggs and butter, that was her money. On those trips to Albertson's, we learned not to ask for toys or candy. The only candy ever purchased was hore hound (cough drop ugh) and chicken wings, sort of a babe Ruth without chocolate. I remember two horses, one was Buttermilk, a mare from Colorado. Mom got on her once and she controlled the fractious mare beautifully. I never got to ride her but Sandy Cutbirth did, I was so jealous. Richard rode Dutch mostly for irrigation purposes if I have that right. There were no dogs allowed but there were wild barn cats. I had designs of catching one and dressing it in doll clothes. Pretty sure that effort would have ended badly. The milk was put in 25 gallon milk cans and about six of them would be trundled out to near the road and stored in a cement container filled with cold irrigation water. The dairy truck would come and pick them up once in the morning, so two milkings would be sitting there. This was a Co-op dairy and I remember Richard getting paid a little it for years after Corn harvest was a big deal. The harvest ran 24/7 until done. All the corn was hauled to the cannery in Emmett. I hitched a ride one night looking for Uncle Paul, never did find him but it was a small adventure. Riley purchased an entire bin of prunes for cow feed. Mom found a recipe for prune conserve and used some of them for preserves. I think there were walnuts in it the it was tasty. Grandma Horn always had a garden, my favorite veg was green tomatoes, which she pickled. Favorite way to eat them was grilled burger, shcmear of Mayo, a pickle and chomp! I love them. The farm house was small, one bed, one bath, living room, bathroom, kitchen and porch. Paul and Ollie slept on the porch for years until they added on another bedroom. Grandma kept a feather bed. I remember the grey and white ticking and I would “help” her make the bed. It looked so fluffy and huge when first made, but when I got to sleep with her, it deflated almost immediately. She had an old manual Singer sewing mahchine. I learned to sew on it and eventually made doll quilts for my sisters one Christmas. They had a storm cellar not to far from the house that contained the hot water heater and all of her jarred canning. I loved the smell of the dirt. There was a gooseberry bush growing on top of the cellar and I would beg her for a pie. She would shudder and make it. My favorite was always pumpkin, the recipe from her last Home Comfort wood burning stove cookbook. A family classic. Occasionally there would be a bummer lamb. They were always fun to play with until they got the better of me at butting. I am not sure they were ever eaten and lamb was not a dish that appeared on the Horn table. Grandma taugt me to emboider all the standard stitches, I went rogue and stitched some truly ugly disclothes. I always watched her cook, she used no recipes and I would try to guess quantity but there is nothing like experience. I love that woman with her crooked fingers1!!