Saturday morning breakfast continues to be a tradition with us only now instead of having it with Margaret at the Golden Corral, we have it with the Robinsons and it’s usually at the Ram Zone in Wyalusing. However, because it was parents day at their daughter Jonecca’s school, we had to relocate one of our Saturday breakfasts to the Jolly Trolley in Dushore which was on their way down to Jonecca’s college.
As Mike made a U-turn to park in front of the restaurant I snapped a photo of the fruit hanging from the trees there along the main street in Dushore and it is my current desktop photo.
You know something? This isn’t even an especially good photo however, sometimes I get a little too busy to devote the time it takes to sort through the photos. Which -- I only thought I was behind on posting photos before! I haven’t posted since September twenty-first and I haven’t even looked at what I’ve downloaded since October twenty-fourth! And as a result I have been looking at this photo on my desktop for a long time now!
After our breakfast with the Robinsons, Mike and I drove around Dushore for a little while.
Coming back to the main street I see the Catholic church up on the hill to our left. “Mike, the road that goes up to the church is the Dushore Overton road. It should take us back out to New Albany. Do want to go that way?” I asked always looking for photo opportunities.
“Okay,” he said and off we went.
I’m happily snapping away at barns and cows and Mike is poking along, not in too much of a hurry.
Occasionally he would pull over to allow an impatient driver around us. We’re following the road signs and we come to an intersection that says straight across is Kelly’s Hill Road. On our right is Hottenstiens Hill Road. We were on the Dushore Overton Road and the way to the left wasn’t marked.
“Which way?” Mike asked but I didn’t know. We took the unmarked road and I got a few photos I wouldn’t have gotten had we not gone that way,
but a mile or two down the road Mike says, “I don’t think this is right.” He turned around and as we approached the crossroad of our mistake, we see a sign saying Overton is one mile straight through. We should have gone right instead of left.
Once through Overton and back on familiar roads we are heading for home when we see a sign that says ‘Plow Day’ with an arrow pointing to the right.
“What’s Plow Day?” we both asked at the same time.
“Let’s call Jon and Steph,” I suggested.
“It’s when a bunch of people get together and plow the field with their horses,” Jon told us.
“You wanna go see that?” Mike asks.
“Well, yeah!” So we follow the signs and get off onto some country dirt roads.
“Which way?” Mike asked as we were approaching an intersection.
“Ummm…” I say stalling for time as I snapped a few more pictures of an old truck sitting beside the road. It’s hard to take pictures and watch for signs!
“There it is,” Mike said spotting the directional sign.
We drive on and after a while we see where cars and trucks and horse trailers are pulled off into a field and cars are parked beside the road. There’s a trailer and a tent and a Port-A-Jon set up on the edge of the field and people are cooking over open fires with pots steaming on top.
“Do you have some money?” I asked Mike. I saw a table set up with a couple of big roaster ovens and a couple of ladies were fluttering around with big spoons, lifting lids and stirring things. We had just come from breakfast and I wasn’t hungry but I was open to buying a cup of coffee.
“Yeah,” he answered as he got out of the Jeep.
With nothing to stop the wind it came across the hilltop, blustery and cold. I pulled my sweater a little tighter around me and headed for the table.
“Hi, I’m Sue,” a lady said as she came up to us holding two pens. I thought we were going to have to write something but when she held them out to us and said, “Welcome,” I realized they were gifts.
“Thank you,” I said taking a proffered pen as Mike took the other one. I turned it over to see what was written on it while Mike was chatting with Sue. Albany Valley Plow Day 2015 was printed on the pens. Aww. How sweet is that? They had pens made just for the event!
“If we stay on this road,” Mike asked pointing to the dirt road we had just come in on, “will it take us to the Marsh Road?”
“It’ll take you out to Evergreen,” Sue said. “This road just makes a big circle,” and she made a big circle with her arm.
“Evergreen?”
“You know, where Lamar grew up,” I said speaking of our neighbor.
“Oh,” Mike said with realization dawning.
Sue went on. “There’s a lot of food over there, and coffee. Help yourself and if it’s not open and you want some, just go ahead and open it up.”
“Thank you,” I said minding my manners and smiling. “Can you tell us what’s going on here today?”
“Well my mom and dad started Plow Day and my mom makes all the food and everyone comes out with their teams and plow. That’s my mom over there,” she said indicating a lady who appeared to be presiding over the event.
“Sue! Hey!” someone yelled and she turned to look.
“Go on and get some coffee or a roll or something,” Sue said taking her leave.
“Thank you!” I said a she walked away. It was ch-ch-chilly! I only had a sweater on and Mike a long sleeved shirt. Coffee would help.
I walked over to where the tables were set up, located the cups and got some coffee. Then I scoped out the food and saw a cream cheese filled Danish and even though I wasn’t hungry, I couldn’t resist. I opened the box and picked one up and went back to where Mike was. “Wanna bite?”
“No. I don’t feel right about it. This is for their family and friends,” Mike said. “Not for us.”
“Mike, we were invited to help ourselves and to not do so would be rude.” I just don’t have the reservations about accepting hospitality that Mike does.
I ate my Danish in silence and drank my coffee as Mike and I watched the people bustle about.
I had my camera with me. “I should try to get someone for my Humans page,” I said to Mike and snapped a few photos of people.
“Peg, you can’t just take pictures of people without their permission,” Mike said. But in my experience most people don’t mind and if they do object they manage to communicate that to me with no problem at all. Usually by throwing a hand up to block their face or turning their back to me. Either way I get the message and don’t take any more pictures of them.
I looked around and spotted the trash can, walked over and threw my empty coffee cup away. I came back to where Mike stood shivering with his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I’m going to talk to her,” I said nodding toward Sue’s mother.
“Alright.”
I walked over and she looked up at me. “Hi! I’m Peggy and I do a webpage. Could I put you on it along with your picture?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Great! What’s your name?”
“Maxine,” she answered and when she paused I fired away with my first question.
“You started Plow Day?”
“Kellogg.” Oh. My bad. I didn’t wait for her last name. “Mm-hmm,” she answered my question.
“What made you start Plow Day?”
“I don’t know, he just decided he...he bought the horses and wanted to do something...and the kids wanted to help do it and everybody thought it was a good idea and...and...this is where we are,” Maxine finished with a laugh.
“How long have you been doing this?
“Seven years.”
“Uh-huh uh-huh,” I said having the habit of saying it twice in a row like that. “And do they make it a competition or is it just...” I was going to go on to say something to the effect of it just being a friendly contest, but I couldn’t formulate how to say that thought so I let it hang.
“No, they just...people just get together and plow. Show off their horses,” Maxine answered.
“Is that what it’s all about?”
“I think so,” and Maxine laughed.
“How many come out here to Plow Day?”
“Well last year we had a hundred or more and we had ten teams.”
“What’s the best thing about Plow Day?”
Maxine thought about it for a moment. “It’s the meetin’...” she stopped and started again. “I think it’s the people you meet and you get to know a lot of people.”
Just then she spies a man walking by, “What do you think Monty?” Monty stopped and Maxine went on. “This is my son.”
“Hi Monty, I’m Peggy, I do a web page and we just stumbled on your little event here, what’s the best thing about Plow Day?”
“Family and friends,” he answered quickly and simply.
“So this has been going on for seven years and your mom and dad started it all...” I didn’t have a question but I was hoping he would pick up the ball and run with it.
“Couldn’t do it though if it wasn’t for the kids,” Maxine chimed in.
“How many kids are there?” I asked her.
“SIX!” she exclaimed.
I drew in my breath with a gasp. Maxine laughed from deep in her belly. She was obviously delighted with my response and must get that a lot when people find out she has six children.
“My goodness! Boys and girls? What do you have?”
“Two boys and four girls,” Maxine answered.
Monty sees a buddy and yells something about not working in the rain. “No,” the buddy answers, “I’m waiting for you to come over and pick up hay.” And Monty wanders off to continue his conversation.
“Do all of the kids come?” I asked Maxine.
“Yeah, they’re all here today.”
“It’s really nice you kept your family close to you,” I said thinking how far and wide mine was scattered and how hard it was for all of us to get together.
“Suzy is the fartherest one away and she lives in New Jersey.” (Mom calls Sue by her little girl name.)
“Do you do this the same time every year?”
“Just about, now last year it was the 25th and today is the 24th.”
“And how long does it last?”
“Usually until around three.”
We were quiet for a moment. “How many acres do you have?”
“I don’t know,” Maxine answered, “Hey Busty!” she called and a man turned and headed our way.
“Is this one of yours?” I asked Maxine as Busty made his way towards us.
“That’s my oldest boy,” Maxine said as he joined us.
I turned to him and he smiled at me.
“Nice to meet ya,” I greeted him.
“How you doin?” he returned.
“How many acres do we have here?” Maxine asked.
“There’s a hundred twenty-two...on this.”
“I don’t know how many over home...” Maxine said.
“Umm, 80 or 90,” Busty answered and with that he was off to finish whatever he'd been doing when we interrupted him.
“How did he get a name ‘Busty’?”
“His name is Charles and everybody’d call, he’d come, and...and...I don’t know, just - Charles!” she yelled. “That’s my husband going there in the blue coveralls.”
“So you have a Charles and a Charles Jr.?”
“Mm huh.”
“And Charles Jr. you call Busty but you don’t remember how he got his nickname,” I said confirming my facts.
“No,” and she chuckled under her breath a little.
I had a feeling that there was a secret here but she wasn’t going to tell me. I changed the subject.
“Your husband’s still getting around pretty good,” I observed.
“Charles was eighty in September and I’ll be eight-two in April.”
I gasped, “You got a younger man!”
Maxine laughed from deep in her belly again.
“How long have you been married?”
“Fifty-nine years,” Maxine stated.
“Fifty-nine years!” I echoed. “Oh my gosh! What does it take to stay married for fifty-nine years?”
“I don’t know, there have been some good times and bad times, but I think it’s the kids...it was the kids I think...that when we had the kids...they was...” There was a long pause then a, “Yup,” and Maxine trailed off not finishing any of her thoughts as we both watched this lady come across the field carrying a plate of goodies.
“Well hello there!” Maxine greeted her and I realized it was a Bring A Plate affair. I would remember that if we made it back next year.
“Hi,” this lady replied pleasantly.
“How are you?” Maxine asked.
“Hangin’ in there,” she answers, then she turned to me, “I’m sorry.”
“Go right ahead,” I told her and I got up from my seat.
“So they didn’t get started yet?” I heard her ask Maxine.
“No, no, everybody’s been a comin’ and...and ...” Maxine let it hang.
After a pause this lady said, “Ten o’clock must just be an estimate,” and she laughed right out loud.
“And they’re visiting,” Maxine qualified.
“Yeah, yeah, you gotta do that,” and she laughed again. She seemed like a really nice lady but I wandered away leaving these ladies to catch up and looked around for Mike. I didn’t see him anywhere! I bet he’s sitting in the Jeep, I thought and when I got back to the Jeep -- there he was! Engine running, heat blasting, talking on his phone.
I opened the door and climbed into the welcoming warmth. I let him finish his conversation. “They haven’t started to plow yet and it goes until about three, let’s go home for a little while,” I said. “I need my jacket.”
“Wanna go this way?” Mike asked pointing forward to uncharted roads.
“Well, yeah!” I’m always ready to see new sights.
We start driving and the already narrow dirt road becomes even more narrow. “Is this someone’s driveway?” Mike asked. I kid you not, that’s what it looked like.
“There’s a guide rail and I don’t think the state puts them on private drives.”
We go a little further and the road curves to the right. Once at the curve we look ahead, “I don’t know Mike,” I said, “It looks like the road just goes up to that house.”
Mike put it in reverse and backs up to the curve and a little cut-off that’s there and he gets us turned around.
It reminded me of growing up. We had a really long driveway and we occasionally had people come in only to realize it was a private drive and turn around and go back out.
“Who’s that?” one of us kids would ask when we saw an unfamiliar car coming down the lane.
“Someone turning around,” was the answer. I never could figure out why they came down our driveway to turn around.
“Maybe it goes around the house,” Mike said and he’s creeping along and glancing back over his shoulder. We get to a spot where we can see that the road does indeed go on around the house. “Yep, it does.”
I was looking too. “I see it now.”
“Let’s turn back around,” Mike said and as soon as he could, he did! We turned around again and as we get down around and on the other side of the house, the road gets even more narrow, if that’s even possible. It is little more than a driveway at this point.
“I hope we don’t meet another car,” I said.
“Me too,” Mike agreed with my sentiment. In many places there just wasn’t anyplace to pull off and let another car pass. Luckily, Mike is a great backer-upper. He backs up better than I drive forward! I knew if the need arose he could back up until we found a wide spot. We didn’t pass any other cars and we just enjoyed our ride on these country back roads. I snapped pictures and after a while we come to a T and the adjoining road was wider.
Before going back to our mountain home, we decided to go to an antique store and we browsed our way through the rest of the morning.
When we got home we had two spoiled little dogs waiting for their Saturday morning treat. I always save them something from my breakfast plate and believe it or not, they know when Saturday rolls around!
After freshening up and making a travel cup of coffee, I grabbed my jacket. “Are you ready?” I asked Mike.
“Yep.”
“Can we take the Gooseneck Road?” I asked as we got back in the Jeep and snapped our seatbelts.
“Sure,” Mike said and leaving our driveway he turned the Jeep in that direction.
We hadn’t been down that way yet and it’s just nice to see what changes have happened in the year since we’ve been gone.
One of the first things I noticed is the old saggy-roof Oak Hill Church had gotten a makeover. A new metal roof and siding.
The fall foliage was pretty as we came down the hill overlooking the old goat farm. His Kids Goat Farm was the name of it. The house had burned a couple of years ago.
Once we had made our turn onto the Gooseneck Road there is an old farm there. I have been photographing it through the years. The barn is completely gone now.
“Do you think we can find our way back to Plow Day the way we came out?” I asked Mike.
“Yeah,” he answered with no hesitation.
I’m not sure I could. There were a couple of turns and I wasn’t driving and half the time I wasn’t even looking at the road, I was looking through the viewfinder of my camera.
“Why do you want to go back that way?” you wonder.
Things just look different when you come at them from a different direction, you know what I mean? And you also see things you didn’t see the first time or maybe you did see but missed your shot.
With that in mind, here’s the old abandoned YOU STAY OUT house coming from the other direction. It sits on Carpenter Hill Road just as you turn off Moon Street (which is not a street - it’s a dirt road!).
Because of the way the road curves I missed seeing an old rock wall the first time through. Rock walls are slowly disappearing from the landscape of Pennsylvania as they are being sold off and dismantled.
I don’t know what's in the tree. At first I thought it was the curled pages of a book.
“A book!” you exclaim. “Who would put a book in a tree?”
I know, right! I realized how silly the thought was as soon as I had it. Maybe it was the curled edge of a NO TRESPASSING sign cause it certainly looks like something paper all curled up there.
“It’s a fungus,” I hear my mother in my head.
Isn’t it funny how, that no matter how old we get, we still can hear our parents in our heads?
Our neighbor Lamar Kipp told me a story about this very thing just the other day. The Kipp girls are long raised and on their own. The family had gotten together for something and during the course of the conversation - Lamar forgets what they were talking about now- Jenn turned to Lamar and said, “You’re all the time telling me what to do!”
“I started laughing,” Lamar says.
“What’s so funny?” Jenn asked him.
“I said, ‘Jenn, I haven’t told you what to do since the first day I dropped you off at college.’ Apparently she still hears me in her head telling her what to do.”
Apparently I’m not the only one who experiences this phenomenon.
Topping the hill I see they are plowing. I raised my camera and took a few shots through the windshield.
Mike pulls halfway off the road. coming up behind a parked truck, and his phone rings before he can shut the engine off.
“It’s my brother,” he says putting the car in park and flipping open his phone. “Heeello,” Mike answers in a slow drawl. Mike and Cork talk every week.
I sat there for a little while taking photos through the windshield, listening to him talk but I knew from past experience that his conversation could last for a while.
I bailed. I was hungry and there was food over there! I got out of the Jeep and went over and moseyed up to the food table.
OMG! (Oh my gosh!) there was a lot of food! A food explosion had taken place while we were gone! I found a place in line. Sue was behind the table helping to serve. “What will you have?” she asked.
“What are my choices?” I didn’t know what was under all those lids.
“There’s chili and barbeque and hot dogs…”
“How about a barbeque,” I said. Mike likes barbeque, I’d take him one. Sue reached into the bun bag and put one on my plate. “Thank you,” I said. Then she lifted the lid and let me help myself to as much barbeque as I wanted. I put a polite scoop onto the bun and shut the lid.
“How about some beans?” Sue asked and lifted a lid.
Mike likes baked beans. “Sure!” and I put a couple of scoops on the plate. Then thinking about Mike being uncomfortable accepting hospitality, I reached in my pocket. “Can I give you a donation, you know, to help with the food?”
With no hesitation, Sue answers, “No. Mom and Dad do all of this because they want to bring the community together and eating is just a part of it.”
Country folk are just the best aren’t they! With country folk you come into the kitchen and you sit at the family table and they give you food and coffee. It just doesn’t get any better than that, does it. (No question mark there because truly -- it's not a question.)
“Thank you,” I said and made a mental note to thank Maxine too. I moved on to the dessert table. There were so many desserts! I was drooling just looking at them all! I love dessert! But I was making this plate for Mike. He hadn’t yet joined me. I didn’t know if he was still on the phone, staying warm, or just uncomfortable crashing the party.
I picked up a couple of chocolate chip cookies, put them on the plate and weaved my way through the knots of people who were standing around talking and made my way back to the Jeep where Mike was still talking on the phone. He saw me coming and put the window down.
“Here,” I said and thrust the plate at him. I’d have to get him something to drink too, I thought as Mike took the plate with only the slightest pause in his conversation.
“Peg just brought me a plate,” he told Cork. He took the plate and set it on the dash as I turned and walked away. I was going back for a plate of my own!
Once again I get up to the food tables and I’m looking things over and you know what? I decided to skip right to dessert. I know, I’m bad. I got chocolate cake with peanut butter icing and I’m standing there eating that when I hear Busty telling someone, “Let me get you some. We just squeezed it last night.” I watched as he strode past me, bent down, opened a cooler and pulled out a quart milk jug. It was a white one so you couldn’t see what was inside it. He let the lid drop, went over to the table where the cups were, pulled one from the stack and came back almost to where I was standing and handed it to a man who stood there waiting. Busty uncapped the jug and poured him a cup of what looked like apple cider.
“Oh,” I said. “You got any hard stuff?” I was channeling Momma here. She loves hard cider.
“No, we just made this last night,” Busty tells me.
“Can I have some?” I asked thinking it was private stock.
“Sure.”
Busty grabs another cup and hands it to me. I took it, he uncapped the jug and as he pours I tell him, “My mom is going to be so jealous when I tell her I had fresh cider.” I sipped. “Mmmm. This is really good!”
“Thank you,” he said. He capped the jug, set it on the table and walked away. I drained the cup of nectar of my favorite fruit and refilled it to take to Mike. I bet he’s waiting for this, I thought, but he wasn’t. As I crossed the road and approached the car I see Mike is still talking on the phone! He put the window down and took the cup from me. I went back to the party and straight for the dessert table. This time though I just stood there looking. There were pies and cakes and cookies and cobblers and brownies and too much to choose from. I couldn’t make up my mind so I stepped back out of the way and just eyed all of the goodies. “It’s probably better if you don’t eat anymore,” I tell myself. And then, to distract myself, I look elsewhere and I see Maxine sitting at her post. I’ll talk to her, I think, walk over and plop down on the step of the trailer beside her.
“Hi Miss Maxine!” I exclaim brightly. “I’m back.”
“Hi,” she replies and laughs.
We start chatting and Maxine, proud of her children, names them for me. “Marlene...she’s got a team of horses here someplace...”
“Uh-huh,” I say in her pause but I only had time for one ‘uh-huh’ before Maxine went on.
“And then Busty and Suzy and Monty - er Lisa and Monty and Katrina.”
Thinking about my Humans page, I asked Maxine, “What is the best thing about being a mom?”
“Oh my God!” Maxine said with disgust.
I laughed to cover my embarrassment for asking what apparently was a stupid question. “Do you have a favorite memory that you like to share?” I rephrased the question.
She didn’t hesitate but immediately her voice took on a different tone. “Christmastime with the kids when they was little...it was just wonderful...”
I waited for her to go on but she didn’t. In fact she added an “Mm-huh” as if putting a period on the end of a memory.
Then she did go on. “I don’t know how people can...that don’t want to have kids...that don’t want kids...I don’t know what we would ever do without them. I wouldn’t take a million dollars for any of mine!”
I know a quote for my Humans page when I hear one! I couldn’t dispute her comment and in the pause my mind drifted to something Mike had said. “This is for their family and friends,” his words echoed in my head. “Miss Maxine, do you know everyone here?”
“Oh no.”
“So I am not the only stranger here!” I felt vindicated.
“No, no.”
A man came up and Maxine reached into a box beside her. She greeted him and handed him two pens. He thanked her, put them in his pocket and they started to exchange pleasantries. I took this opportunity to excuse myself.
I found a spot to stand and take pictures. This beautiful team of black horses belongs to Maxine and Charles. I believe it is their niece driving as Charles walks beside.
“Did you see that cake?” I overheard one lady ask another.
Cake? “Did you see that cake?” Hmmm. Interesting. I better investigate.
“I didn’t see it,” I piped up and chipped in.
“You have to see this cake,” this lady said and walked us over to the dessert table. She lifted the top of the cake box and it’s one of those photo cakes. Plow Day 2015 was written in yellow icing.
She saw my camera. “Maybe you could take a picture of it for them?”
I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t know these people. “Sure,” I said, “but I can’t use this camera, it’s too big.” I pulled Andrew’s Camera out of my pocket, glad that I had it with me and obligingly took the photo. I call my small Canon Andrew’s Camera because it’s the camera I let my grandson use when he comes to visit us.
I wander away as these ladies are talking over the cake and I see Sue. There’s how I can get the photo of the cake to them! “Sue, do you have an email address where I can send some photos?” I ask.
“Let’s see if Brenda will give you hers. She lives here and she’ll make sure Mom and Dad see them.”
Sue led the way to where Brenda was and explained what we wanted.
“Sure,” she said and started to pat her pocket for a pen and paper but I was ready. I handed Brenda a card and a pen and she gave me her email.
“I’ll put ‘photos’ in the subject line so you know it’s from me,” I told her. If she’s anything like me, she won’t open emails from people she doesn’t know.
“Thank you,” she said.
And with that I felt like my day was complete. I had lots of photos of our adventure, I had a quote for my webpage and I had an email address to send the photos to. There was only one thing left to do.
I walked over to where Maxine still sat. “Miss Maxine! Thank you for an awesome day!” I exclaimed.
She smiled and nodded her welcome.
I waved my good-bye and went on to the Jeep.
Guess who was still talking on the phone? Yep! Mike! I climbed in just as he was wrapping up his conversation.
“I’m ready.” I thought he was sitting in the Jeep waiting for me. “You want to eat your sandwich before we go?”
Mike reached for his plate and bit into his barbeque. “Mmmm.”
I was fairly bursting with my news. “We were not the only strangers here! I asked Maxine and she said there are a lot of people here that she doesn’t know.”
“Hmm.”
“And I tried to give Sue a donation for the food but she wouldn’t take it. She said that’s what this is all about; bringing people together.”
“Hmm,” was all Mike had to say about that too. Then, “These beans are good.”
I watched the last of the teams coming in as Mike finished his lunch. “How come only the women are plowing?” Mike asked.
“I don’t know, why didn’t you come over and ask someone?”
“I was just getting ready to come over,” he said, “but if you’re ready to go…”
“Yeah, I’m ready.” We buckled up and Mike pulled out onto the road.
“You wanna go this way?” he asked.
It’s spooky how sometimes it’s almost like he can read my mind. “Yeah,” I answered as if I didn’t really care, but I did. We were headed back out to Dempsey Hill Road, the road we had come in on originally and I’d only been on that road that one time. I was anxious to see how things would look going the other way or what I might have missed.
Here’s a picture of the truck from the other direction. I think I like this view better. What do you think?
What are those little crosses in the weeds for? I puzzle as I snapped a photo.
Then I glance on the other side of the road.
Oh. It was probably the old clothesline.
Even once we were back on roads we travel more often I continued to take pictures. I can’t tell you how many photos of this barn I have, in all kinds of weather, all times of the day and even in different seasons of the year.
This shed is another of my favorite subjects. It has been slowly falling through the years.
Back on our own road I take pictures of the neighbors treasures.
What a great day it was, getting to meet new people, see new things, and travel new roads.
Let's call this one done.
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