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| Windy Hill Barn |
The early part of
January 1937 was made unpleasant first by a long rain and then ice. Going to
the barn I slipped and fell and smashed the lantern. I didn’t dare let the
cows out and so had to carry them water, Dinah, especially, being in "a
delicate condition" was heavy and clumsy and we expected her to drop her
calf any day, We fortunately got by this period without mishap and kept busy
for the next six weeks with nothing happening of special note.
At town meeting in March
I was "chosen" as a trustee of the Town Library, a very nominal
office in those days but it gave me my first inside look at town affairs.
Actually there were two branch libraries (as neither village would countenance
having the town library in the other) the one in Proctorsville, tho small being
the more active. In fact the one in Cavendish was moribund and had almost no
use, Supposedly ye town clerk was also librarian but she had little time to
give to it and there was no money to hire someone else so the books were in a
room in her building. The status quo had existed for some time and the other
trustees (we were five) were reluctant to stir up trouble and the situation was
impossible to change. However, I remained in office only half of the five-year
term as the result of as even more impossible state of affairs in Proctorsville.
This branch was left a small sum of money, and the trustees representing that
village thought it a fine opportunity to acquire something more impressive than
their one room next to the Post Office. No one could quarrel with that; but
when they came up with a plan to buy "the old opera house" which was
a great ark of a building, I objected strenuously. There was quite a row
culminating in a meeting of the village to vote on the plan. As the vote was
favorable, and also some hard feelings were involved, I resigned. I felt very
unhappy about this, even when later on my judgment was vindicated. The newly
acquired building was impossible to maintain and had to be given up at some
loss, and the library went into cramped rented quarters over the fire-house.
There were other
town affairs in which I was interested. Anyone speaking up at Town Meeting
inevitably called attention to himself; while plenty of people could talk very
few would. So by venturing to question the existing practice of hiring the
town's trucks, which seemed to me a most uneconomical way to operate, I became
a marked man,- the more so when the voters agreed it might be a good idea to purchase
a truck as an experiment. I don't know how this might have turned out if, in
1938, I had not been elected an auditor, which put me in a position to keep
comparative records of costs of running the trucks. One of my fellow auditors
(there were three, on this board - which could have used twice the number) was
of like mind, and fortunately the road commissioner was very willing to work
with us. By the end of a year's operation it was shown conclusively that the
town could save money by owning its road equipment. So from then on this
policy was followed. Of course it was not achieved peacefully and I was pretty
unpopular in some quarters, but there could be no question of the benefit to
the town.
The people must have
been satisfied, as early in 1940 some of the neighbors called to ask me to run
for selectman. In those days there always was enough competition for office to
make things lively, and I consented with reluctance, feeling that I would have
little chance against local men who were better known. So when the day came, I
was surprised to receive a majority vote; and thus my education in town
affairs continued. This was a vary interesting period. The Depression was
really hurting, and various means to assist people who were hardest up (nobody
was fluent) were in operation thru town, state, and federal agencies. I
remember well cooperating with the Overseer of the Poor, who certainly had an
almost impossible and thankless job, one phase being the periodic issuance of
food stuffs supplied by the government. Also, because of my interest in roads,
I found myself in charge of the WPA crew, or rather, of the projects they were
working on. It was during the summer of 1940 that we constructed the first
strip of hard-surface highway from the edge of Cavendish village northeast all
of a mile to Whitesville (a few houses at a road intersection.)
But this is getting
way ahead of myself. Town affairs could be spared only a limited time (paying a
very limited wage) and I fitted them into my schedule as best I could,
sometimes at considerable inconvenience. Returning to 1937: by April the roads
had dried out pretty well but were badly washed and cut up and had been very
hastily repaired if at all, so that I made some very unkind remarks about the
road crew when going down Langworthy Hill [now known as Wiley Hill] to the
village several dozen eggs were jounced of the seat with dire results. That
was on a weekly trip for my bookkeeping stint, when 1 expected also to shop and
then pick up grain at the freight yards.
Sugaring was about
over, and we enjoyed the annual sugar-on-snow party with one of the neighbors.
Then it was a wet spring, which held up outdoor work, but we managed to get
the garden in between showers, and also set out more raspberry bushes. After
this we had to devote time first, to coning with a bad infestation of tent
caterpillars, which spread from the wild cherry growth to the apple trees
(another reason to keep the walls free of growth) and required tedious and
messy work burning them out; and next it was essential to spray the apples
which were loaded with tiny fruit (they should have been done twice before
this, first in the dormant stage and then after the blossom petals had fallen.)
And finally, probably because of the bad weather, the calf got sick and required
nursing. After she recovered I sold her and bought a better one.
The saying is that
"a cold wet May fills the barns with hay" and so it proved. Aided by
a heat wave and dry weather in mid-summer, the crop was so good that in July I
again had it mowed "on shares" and there was ample; in fact the. Barn
could not have taken it all. This conserved my own time for other things, and
the weather was grand for outdoor work. But it was altogether too dry for the
garden, which suffered severely; we carried some water from the brook but of
course the latter was low. A brief downpour about the first of August was most
welcome. Then we were again short on water until late in October when there
were two heavy rains, the first since June. Altho the deluge stripped the trees
of their last bright leaves everyone was thankful to go into winter with full
springs.
Besides the gardens,
my summer was devoted to making improvements around the place. I was relieved
of considerable of the wood chore as I was able to hire a couple of men to work
up into cordwood a number of old maple trees over near the road which was our
eastern boundary: they were "going" and would otherwise have boon
lost as they were bigger than I could have handled. I made use of this "saved"
time by continuing clearing along the walls of the big mowing. A machine never
gets close enough to do a really good job, as it is too easy to snag the end of
the cutter bar. So wild growth encroaches fast unless during or immediately
after haying, the edges are kept "picked" clean with a scythe.
Evidently this had not been done for years so now a scythe was inadequate. I
had to use heavy clippers and sometimes a saw or axe and, like co many jobs of
relative unimportance, it was slow work. When the children could occasionally
help it was pleasant to have their company, and they all were good workers. As
a number of trees wore involved it also provided some cordwood.
After a while 1 had
to drop the clearing when I received a shipment of barbed wire, and begin
stringing it on posts I had previously put in. around the edge of the pasture.
This was designed to keep the animals out of the woods, a -practice advocated
by the government, which provided e subsidy to defray actual out-of-pocket
cost. It prevented the cows from browsing on or trampling down new growth and
hence theoretically resulted in eventual improvement of the woodland. It also
restricted the pasture area, which did not please the cows. I was dubious as to
what had been gained by a lot of hard work, but at least it was easier to find
them.
Our youngest cow
dropped a heifer calf and this one was named Shirley, I suspect after a movie
celebrity. But Bobby (the mother) did not have a very good bag which was
disappointing for, like all farmers, I wanted to reach the point where I could
share milk and was commencing to wonder if we ever would.
So spring merged
into summer and summer into fall, without our quite knowing where the time
went, But we were able to get fall work done unusually early,- all garden .produce
in, storm windows hung, some manure spread, and the fencing project carried
well along. In fact by early November I had completed 134 rods of three-wire
fence.
This year when we
moved the kitchen range into the house it was placed in the space it was to
occupy as long as we had to cook with it, that is, until the power came thru
after the war when we were able to have an electric stove. We put it in the
corner of the long back room next to the partition with the dining-room, and passed
the pipe thru a metal thimble in the wall and thence into the pipe outlet in
the dining-room chimney above the fireplace. Isabel always disliked this but it
was the best arrangement I could make, At least it had good light from the
north window, which then was one of the only two windows in the room, the other
at the living-room end looking out back; this presently would belong to the
bathroom. Now it gave light for the "dry" sink against the back wall.
As previously mentioned, there was no outside door. So the immediate set up was
far from ideal, but at least it was convenient to the dining-room. It also left
the whole of the "old" kitchen free for use as our living-room. Nor
was I sorry to no longer have to move both the range and the water out to the
shed-room every spring and back again in the fall. We no longer had the bother
of carrying in wood, as I had modified the range to take a double-chimney oil
burner, which I had been lured into buying by an attractive catalog. It was no
mean undertaking, but I was beginning to feel I could do almost anything. When
adjusted, it worked fine; Isabel found she could keep a more even heat than
with wood, and also by leaving it "on" overnight the kitchen was warm
in the morning, Of course it increased our oil consumption, I had to refill the
oil-tank daily from the barrel in the shed room, but this was less of a chore
and far cleaner than carrying wood, And it saved wood!
A good outside
interest for me was the American Legion. I joined the Post in Proctorsville and
generally attended the monthly evening meetings. At that time a great deal was
made of the special commemorative holidays. It was considered a duty to always
decorate soldiers’ graves just before Memorial Day, A number of old cemeteries
are scattered about the town, and a few individual burials such as one a mile
above our house close to the old Crown Point military highway. Flag placing was
assigned as was most convenient for members of the Post, and helping with this
gave me quite a time searching out-of-the-way locations. Then on the day itself
there was a parade behind a good hired band, and ceremonies were hold alternate
years in the two village schools. As my father had been a Union veteran I was
brought up in the tradition and was happy to help carry it on.
The Legion this year
held a special ceremony the evening of what I still think of as Armistice Day,
11 November, with a tableau and singing and the awarding of prizes to school
children who were winners in an essay contest sponsored by the Post. Events in
Europe were beginning to make an impression here, undoubtedly stirring the
memories of veterans of what was then the World War, Whatever the reason,
activities increased,
Our piano was
proving its worth, Not only was Ann getting on well with her lessons, but
Isabel enjoyed playing. I had almost forgotten the long ago times at her home
when family and various friends used to gather around the same old Chickering,
which I now have to play and sing. [Chickering and Sons was an American Piano
manufacturer. Founded in 1823, Chickering pianos were made until 1983, and were
known for producing award-winning instruments of superb quality and design.] It
was very pleasant.
Having discovered
that by shopping in Rutland we more than saved the cost of gas and also found greater variety to choose from, we
drove there more frequently when we could spare the time. Even under good
conditions the gravel roads with their sharp curves and steep grades were not
too easy for Lizzy, and if we made the trip (33 miles) in an hour and a half we
were doing well. But it was nice to have a little change, and we took the
children when we could,
There also was an
amusing puppet show at Fletcher Farm, and the usual 4-11 round-up at Windsor.
So the year would have ended on a happy note had not Isabel become ill,
requiring an operation, which was performed at the hospital in Burlington in
mid-December. She was not able to be about for Christmas, so I made up a bed
for her in the window embrasure of the living-room where we usually had the
tree, and put up the tree in the dining-room where she could see it thru the
open doors. For me it was a period of very great worry.
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| Pete Newton checking out the flooring |
Windy Hill Barn Renovation: This summer, the current owners of Windy Hill had the barn restored, which figured so prominently in Tiemann's Memoirs. Thanks to Mary Anne Butler, below are pictures she took during the renovation.
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| Amos Newton one of the restorers |
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| Barn floor |
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| Side view of barn |
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| Nailing the door in place. |
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| Door Raising with Pete and Amos. |
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| Pete Newton unloading lumber for the barn |
